Albus Dumbledore and the Wizard's Ruse

Book Three of the Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts Series

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling. The story is written for entertainment and not for profit.

Author's Note: Someone tried to correct me by saying that nobody has ever split their soul into more than two, according to Dumbledore in HBP. Well, so far I have not misinterpreted canon because Imhotep split his soul between his corpse and his staff. Albus and friends were only speculating that the Egyptian Dark Lord might have split it into more than two. Perhaps that is just a dead end in the mystery… then again, perhaps it is not…

"Place a boy on a sports field and all rational thinking departs him."

Chapter 10 – Gryffindor versus Slytherin

If Albus thought that he would have time on his hands to ponder the many mysteries that had been thrown up during the first meeting of the Order on Sunday, he was sadly mistaken. Monday to Friday evaporated in a maelstrom of scrolls of homework and Quidditch practices as Thomas Jones drove the Gryffindors into the ground ahead of their crucial match against Slytherin. The only progress made that week with respect to the mystery was seeing Mars send an owl to his parents to enquire about Metamorphmagi in England. The other notable event was being cornered by John Gaunt in between classes on Monday morning.

Now, Albus had a retinue of people accompanying him to and from classes that week to keep him safe from Slytherins, as did the rest of the Gryffindor team. Likewise, the Slytherins were marching about in groups of ten to defend their players. One such group encountered Albus and his security guards in the middle of a corridor. The tall and imperious figure of John Gaunt was in the midst of it.

'Dumbledore, I need a word with you,' Gaunt said.

'Absolutely not,' said Mars, who stood with his wand out at Albus' right hand. 'We do not trust you not to attack our Seeker.'

'I have no interest in harming Dumbledore,' said Gaunt. 'I need a word.'

Some of the Slytherins were discomfited by this, given that Gaunt was their Seeker.

'What if Dumbledore harms you?' one of his colleagues said. 'How can you be certain to trust him?'

'I am a superior wizard to Dumbledore,' said Gaunt, 'and do not fear him.'

'You are most certainly not superior to…' began Emily Marchbanks, standing to Albus' left. Albus was quick to interrupt her so as not to let the situation deteriorate into a duel.

'Could everyone just back away for the briefest of moments,' Albus said. 'Gaunt wants a word with me, and a word with me he shall have. We are both competent enough to defend ourselves from attack, whether you believe it or not.'

The Gryffindors reluctantly stepped away from Albus. They retreated to stand against the wall of the corridor, awaiting Albus' return. Gaunt gave a curt nod to his entourage and they did the same, standing twenty strides from the Gryffindors. The two groups eyed one another suspiciously while Gaunt took Albus by the arm and pulled him behind a suit of armour.

'Dumbledore, I have been thinking about the mystery surrounding your father,' Gaunt began, 'and I think it would be wise if you do not communicate your suspicions to either your mother or your father just yet.'

'I have not said anything as yet,' Albus said. 'But why do you think I should remain silent?'

'Because,' Gaunt said, 'we know too little to make any clear assumptions. If the person who Legilimensed you that day was someone using Polyjuice Potion or Metamorphmagi to imitate your father, then conveying your concerns to him would give away the fact that you are aware of the deception. Likewise, if it is actually your father behaving in an odd fashion, you would risk his anger by questioning him. Either way, we do not want anyone knowing that we are investigating this mystery.'

'That is very good thinking,' Albus said. 'Thank you, John.'

'The name is Gaunt,' the fourth year said. He swept away from Albus and rejoined his cronies. Before they could disappear around a corner, Albus called out after him.

'By the way, John Gaunt,' Albus said, 'good luck for the Quidditch match on Saturday.'

'Save the luck for your self,' Gaunt said over his shoulder. 'I will not need it.'

Albus looked around at his friends and saw that Emily Marchbanks and Maggie Weasley in particular were seething.

'That is quite simply the vilest human being I have yet encountered,' Emily said.

'He is arrogant beyond reckoning,' Maggie added. Albus laughed.

'He is harmless,' Albus said. 'He can use all the grand words and posturing he wants, but until he demonstrates his worth on the Quidditch pitch, they are only words.'

'What did he want with you, anyway?' Mars asked as they made their way to their next class.

'Oh, he simply advised me not to speak to my mother or father about this mystery,' Albus said. 'Whatever is going on, I think it is best we keep our investigation quiet for the time being.'

'That is a good idea,' Mars said. Emily and Maggie both shot him a foul look. Albus noticed, and wondered if his friends were not as guilty of prejudice as the Slytherins they so reviled.

Saturday morning dawned blustery and overcast for the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Despite the grim October weather, the entire school made their way down to the Quidditch pitch to watch wrapped in cloaks and woolen scarves. Hogwarts loomed like a gothic castle against the grey skies, and with the Forbidden Forest dark and ominous on the hills opposite, one might have been forgiven for believing that ill portents surrounded the match. The students of the four Houses were fairly buzzing with excitement. The Slytherins had a set look about them, determined to regain what they believed was rightly theirs: the lead in both the House Championship and the Quidditch Cup. The Gryffindors were energetic and boisterous in their stand, singing rallying cries and making the most noise out of all the houses. As leaders in the Championship and defending Quidditch champions, they had reason to be in good spirits in spite of the weather. Despite their general optimism; however, there was an edge to their mood: the last match against Slytherin two years ago had resulted in several nasty injuries to their players. Neither the Ravenclaws nor the Hufflepuffs were sure who they wanted to win. A Gryffindor win would make it very difficult for the other houses to capture the House Championship, but nobody truly felt like they could tolerate a Slytherin victory. In all: the Quidditch pitch resonated with noise as the whole school waited for what promised to be a classic encounter.

In the Gryffindor changing shed, Albus was jittery. He had been sitting in his Quidditch uniform for almost an hour, jangling his broom in his hands and tapping the ground with his feet. His sole was patting the ground at a hundred taps a minute, and his throat was dry. Richard and Walter were tossing a heavy ball back and forth at one another to warm up their shoulders. Ella and Alaria both looked as pale and nervous as Albus, sitting shivering on a bench opposite where he did. Perhaps the most nervous of all was William, who was sitting close to Albus with wide eyes and a pounding heart. Thomas, meanwhile, was pacing the floor talking incessantly.

'… and as we talked about Thursday,' Thomas was saying, 'the triplicate maneuver is going to be our best shot of scoring frequently. Provided Walter and Richard keep the Bludgers off us, we should be able to execute efficiently…'

Albus was only half paying attention to Thomas' unceasing monologue. He knew that victory relied on a swift capture of the Snitch, in spite of what Thomas was saying: nothing less than that would prevent the Slytherins from murdering his team mates.

After what had seemed like a lifetime, the call came for the two teams to walk on to the pitch. A lion's roar echoed around the stadium as the Gryffindors jogged out into the dim light. The Slytherins responded with a unified hissing sound as their team did the same. The two captains came together next to the referee, Madam Cross, the Librarian.

'I demand a clean match,' Madam Cross said. 'At the first sign of foul play I will be awarding multiple penalties. Play fair or face the consequences.'

Thomas and the opposing captain shook hands for longer than was necessary and then the whistle blew to signal the start of the match. Fourteen able-bodied fliers shot up into the sky, followed by a Quaffle and two Bludgers. As usual, the Golden Snitch vanished without a trace before Albus could even sight it.

Albus made straight for his favourite position, a hundred feet above the three Gryffindor hoops. From here he could scan the stadium for the sight of a flash of gold or a spark of light that might give away the location of the Snitch. He was joined by John Gaunt, who hovered a dozen feet away from Albus.

'I shall be on your shoulder all match,' Gaunt said. His voice was unnaturally cold and actually made Albus' hairs stand on end.

'Do as you wish,' Albus said under his breath. 'The Snitch is still mine.'

Albus was unable to adhere to Thomas' instruction that he catch the Snitch within a few minutes, because it was nowhere to be seen. He tried scanning the pitch for a sight of it, but it had disappeared completely. As usual, Albus became distracted by the other events going on in the field of play. Directly beneath him, William Potter was enduring a torrid time in front of the hoops. Slytherin had conjured up a brilliant strategy whereby one of their Beaters would send a Bludger at William moments before their Chasers launched the Quaffle at the hoops. Invariably, William would have to dodge to avoid the Bludger and the Quaffle would sail through the goals.

From his vantage point Albus was able to see the pattern unfolding. He decided that something had to be done about it. He shot off in the direction of Walter Pettigrew. True to his promise, Gaunt followed him, thinking that Albus must be after the Snitch. Albus figured that Gaunt's strategy was not to search for the Snitch himself, but only to react to whatever Albus did. This was presumably to give the Slytherins enough time to inflict harm on Albus' Gryffindor teammates.

Albus found Walter trying to wrest a Bludger away from the other Slytherin Beater.

'Walter,' Albus called down, 'the Slytherin Beater is targeting William every time their Chasers take a shot at goal. If you do not keep the Bludgers off of him, then the Slytherins are going to keep scoring all day.'

'Very well,' Walter said, 'but you ought to be hunting for that Snitch, not watching the game.'

Albus returned to his post high above the pitch, accompanied by Gaunt. He noted with some satisfaction that Walter was now doing an admirable job of circling the hoops and deflecting any Bludgers that were sent in William's direction. William was suitably relieved and had started saving goals. This seemed to bolster his confidence as the Gryffindors in the stands cheered loudly with each save. Meanwhile Albus let himself be distracted by the commentary of Ron Lovegood, the sixth year commentator from Ravenclaw.

'The Gryffindors in possession of the Quaffle now,' Ron was booming with a magically enhanced voice. 'Eades, to McMarsh, to Jones, and back to Eades again. This triple maneuver is working wonders for the Gryffindors and the Slytherins seem unable to defend against it. McMarsh in possession, back to Jones and… he scores! Another ten points for Gryffindor as they retake the lead. What a game we have here. Gryffindor lead by eighty points to seventy. That's the seventh time the lead has changed hands today.'

Albus noticed Gaunt flying off out of the corner of his eye. His heart skipped a beat, thinking that Gaunt must have spotted the Snitch. He went in pursuit of the Slytherin fourth year, who flew in a wide arc around the stadium and arrived next to the Slytherin hoops.

'Blade,' Gaunt cried out to the Slytherin Keeper. 'The Gryffindors are using a three-pronged attack on the hoops but it ends up in Jones' hands most of the time for the strike. Ignore the other two and concentrate on Jones.'

Albus realized that Gaunt was also an astute reader of the game. He chose to fly in the direction of Thomas, who was trying to recapture the Quaffle from the Slytherin Chasers.

'The Slytherins know about the triple play,' Albus said. 'The Keeper is going to be watching you for the shot. Get Eades or McMarsh to score instead.'

'Thanks, Dumbledore,' Thomas said, 'and you had better go looking for that Snitch before Gaunt gets his grubby paws on it.'

Albus wheeled about and returned to a position high above the pitch. Despite their early concerns, Gryffindor were holding up very well against the Slytherin Beaters. Two years ago, Pettigrew had been a fourth year and Malkin a third year. Now the pair were sixth and fifth years respectively, and seemed to be the physical equals of the Slytherin Beaters. As a result, nobody had been injured by a Bludger yet and Albus hadn't even seen one come his way.

'Gaunt, at your service,' said the familiar voice of the Slytherin fourth year. He had returned from discussing tactics with his Keeper and was once again hovering next to Albus. Albus chose to ignore him this time, and reverted to searching for the Snitch.

'What a fabulous play by Gryffindor,' cried Ron Lovegood. Albus could not help listening in. 'They seem to have adjusted their tactics and now McMarsh is scoring at will through the left-hand post. Another goal for Gryffindor and the score is one hundred and forty to eighty.'

The roars of approval from the Gryffindors in the stand echoed around the stadium. Albus let his eyes follow the game and noticed that William was now riding on confidence and saving numerous goals. Thomas was in the form of his life, intercepting at least one in every three Slytherin passes and using Eades and McMarsh either side of him to confuse the Slytherin Keeper. Thomas would delay his pass until the last possible moment before offloading to either of the other Chasers, who could then score through undefended hoops. The Slytherin Beaters were struggling to keep up with the furious flying of Pettigrew and Malkin, both of whom were giving the Slytherin Chasers a torrid time with the Bludgers.

'Gryffindor score again,' Lovegood cried. 'Eades scores her eighth and Gryffindor lead by two hundred to ninety. Slytherin look completely out of sorts today.'

Suddenly Albus' and Gaunt's lofty position above the field of play was disturbed by the arrival of one of the Slytherin captain, one of their Chasers.

'Gaunt, the prerogative is on you now,' his captain said. 'We are going down in a ball of flame unless you can capture that Snitch.'

Slytherin's captain rejoined the fray and Gaunt took action at once. He abandoned Albus and started flying in a wide circle around the outside of the stadium. Albus had no choice but to follow. The last thing he needed was for Gaunt to happen upon the Snitch and steal an unlikely victory for Slytherin. With Gryffindor in complete control, Albus and Gaunt now switched roles: Gaunt was the Snitch-hunter and Albus simply had to follow Gaunt's every move.

Albus had to push hard on his broom to catch up to Gaunt, who was also the owner of a Cleansweep Two. The pair was soon flying shoulder to shoulder at a hectic speed. Their heads moved from side to side, searching the air for that giveaway glint of light. They had just swooped low over the heads of supporters from Ravenclaw when they spotted it simultaneously. It was dancing around at the foot of the Slytherin hoops.

Without a word to each other, and straining every sinew in their young bodies, Albus Dumbledore and John Gaunt surged downwards towards the Snitch. A gasp went up from the crowd when they realized what was in motion and even the six Chasers and four Beaters stopped playing momentarily to watch their Seekers battle it out.

The Golden Snitch apparently noticed that the Seekers were on their way because it shot off at an acute angle. Albus and Gaunt had to veer to the left to follow it. Now they found themselves just meters away from the Snitch and nothing separated the two of them. Gaunt surprised Albus by ramming his left shoulder into him. Albus was knocked out of the line of flight but quickly resumed the chase. He returned the favour into Gaunt's left shoulder, sending the Slytherin fourth year directly towards the Gryffindor stand. Gaunt had to execute a deft turn to avoid plunging straight into the mass of baying Gryffindors. He would not go down without a fight; however, and was soon back on Albus' shoulder. The pair was similarly matched for height, size and flying skill. Realizing that repeatedly flying into one another was a futile exercise, they started flying in a helical shape around one another as they pursued the Snitch. Another gasp went up from the crowd as they saw the furious, dizzying pursuit gather in intensity. The Snitch was jetting away at an even faster pace but the two boys would not give up.

'What a remarkable sight,' Lovegood was screaming. 'Dumbledore and Gaunt are flying like water down a drainpipe as they chase down the Snitch! Remember that Gryffindor leads by two hundred and fifty to one hundred and ten, so Gaunt can still snatch the unlikeliest of victories if he can see off Dumbledore.'

Neither Albus nor Gaunt heard what Lovegood was saying, nor did they pay any attention to the screams and yells of the crowd. Both were one hundred percent focused on the tiny golden speck just a dozen yards or so ahead of them. With every dive or sideways dart that the Snitch gave, the two Seekers would duly divert their own course. Albus could feel the blood rushing about in a mad spin inside his head, and he felt like he was ready to vomit. But nothing could possibly deter him from continuing the chase. At that moment, nothing in the world seemed more important than capturing the Golden Snitch.

Suddenly the two Seekers were accompanied by other fliers. Richard Malkin was flying at Albus' left hand side, his Beater's bat held aloft to protect the Seeker from a barrage of Bludgers. A Slytherin Chaser was flying alongside Gaunt, trying to yell something at him. With the wind rushing through their hair and past their ears, both Gaunt and Albus could only catch snippets of the Chaser's words: '…leave…we… trail…and sixty points…'

At that precise moment several things happened. A Bludger struck Malkin in the side of the face and he fell off his broom. Albus instinctively turned to look and was caught in the face by Malkin's loose bat. Albus nearly lost hold of his broom and was seeing stars for several seconds before he could see properly again. By then Gaunt was hundreds of feet ahead of him and reaching out for something that shone rather brightly. Malkin was out cold on the ground below, and staff members were rushing down from their seats to see if he was alright. Albus watched with a cold dread as Gaunt successfully closed his hands on the Snitch. And then there was a full three seconds of dead silence around the stadium.

'Gaunt catches the Snitch,' Lovegood cried at last, his voice hoarse. 'Gaunt catches the Snitch, but oh what folly! Two extra goals by Jones in the interim gave Gryffindor a two hundred and seventy to one hundred and ten point lead. That means that Gryffindors are the winners by ten points! Gaunt catches the Snitch, but Gryffindor win!'

It took Albus a couple of moments to digest what had just happened, and then he was ecstatic. The personal defeat of having lost the Snitch to Gaunt evaporated in the joy of Gryffindor's victory. He flew down to join his team mates, who were gathering at the side of the unconscious Richard Malkin.

'Brilliant work, Dumbledore,' Thomas said, grabbing Albus in a hug and patting him on the back. 'You kept Gaunt off that Snitch long enough for us to take an unassailable lead.'

Albus shook hands with his team mates and they all grinned like little children, before their attention was irrevocably drawn to their stricken Beater.

'How is he?' Albus asked.

'Malkin will be fine,' said Madam Rose, the curator of the Hospital Wing. 'He sustained a nasty blow but my potions will put him right.' She cast a levitating spell on Malkin's lifeless body and proceeded to carry him up towards Hogwarts castle. The Gryffindor team followed respectfully, even though the other members of the House wanted a piece of them. It seemed appropriate that they should accompany Malkin to the Hospital Wing before celebrating properly.

'You did a terrific job,' Albus said to William, who looked awestruck by the moment and the glory that accompanied it. 'Once I told Pettigrew to keep the Bludgers off you, you had no trouble keeping the Slytherin Chasers at bay.'

'That was you?' William said. He gave Albus what amounted to the first smile between them in weeks. 'Thanks, Albus. Your flying was rather spectacular yourself.'

'Alas, but I was confounded by Gaunt,' Albus said.

'That is not your fault,' Alaria McMarsh said, putting a light hand on Albus' shoulder. 'Malkin failed in his task and if it had not been for his bat striking you in the face, I am certain you would have beaten Gaunt to the Snitch.'

'So am I,' William said, beaming at him. Albus grinned. He had his friend back, and he could not help but glow in the aftermath of the compliment from the blonde, blue-eyed Gryffindor Chaser. Albus did not know it, but the throbbing in his head was less a result of flying in a vortex than a feeling of intense attraction toward the beautiful sixth year, McMarsh.

Once Malkin had been taken care of in the Hospital Wing by Madam Rose, the Gryffindor team headed back to the tower for the celebrations that were due to follow. Albus; however, was intercepted by his mother.

'A quick lesson in Occlumency, if you will,' Lubo said, 'before you start drinking illicit Butterbeers that your ghastly brother ferrets into the school.'

Albus had the sense not to complain, and pardoned himself from the throng of Gryffindors marching up the stairs. He followed in Lubo's footsteps as she led him to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. As he went, he realized that one of the uppermost of his thoughts was the mystery regarding his father. He recalled his discussion with Gaunt earlier in the week: they had to keep their investigation secret until they were better informed. Lubo could not find out what Albus knew, or suspected, about his father. And he was about to be Legilimensed by her! Albus realized at once that he had to seek an outlet.

'Mother, can we please postpone the lesson for a time?' Albus asked.

'I beg your pardon?' Lubo said. 'Son, Saturday afternoons are routinely set aside for Occlumency. You are well aware of this.'

'Yes, but I have just engaged in a Quidditch match,' Albus said, searching quickly through his head for excuses. 'I was knocked on the head by Richard's bat, I flew in dizzying spirals for several minutes, I have a headache, and I am distracted by our win. I will not be able to perform well.'

Lubo looked at Albus with a perceptive gaze. The way her white hair glowed made Albus slightly afraid of her, standing there in the dark corridor. Now that winter was approaching, the corridors of Hogwarts seemed a few shades darker than they did in summer.

'You are trying to hide something from me, I sense,' Lubo said. 'I scratched the surface of your mind and caught a glimpse of a beautiful girl. Very well, I will spare you the intrusion into your mind.'

Albus blushed fiercely. He did not realize that his sudden attraction to the Gryffindor Chaser was so close to the surface in his thoughts.

'But we are having a lesson all the same,' Lubo continued. 'We shall work on Legilimency instead. You can practice entering my mind.'

Albus was relieved all the same. The Order's investigation into the death of Nibs and Archaeon Dumbledore's peculiar behaviour was kept hidden from Lubo Dumbledore, and he spent an enjoyable afternoon trying to Legilimens his mother. She kept him shielded from her thoughts for most of the afternoon, but Albus had a few moments of triumph when he caught glimpses of her thoughts. Eventually he was rewarded with twenty points for Gryffindor and told to go and join his house celebrations.

By the time Albus returned to Gryffindor Tower, Aberforth and Fawkes had returned from Hogsmeade with a whole barrel of Butterbeer and a crate of Firewhiskies. Albus was soon embroiled in the midst of the celebrations, trying to sound impressive within earshot of Alaria McMarsh as he recounted his flying duel with John Gaunt to whoever cared to listen. Unfortunately McMarsh was too busy giggling at everything Thomas Jones was saying. The evening disintegrated into a loud and raucous party as the Butterbeer overflowed in everyone's veins. It was eventually broken up by Professor Rolleston at midnight, and a very haggard and tipsy bunch of Gryffindor third year boys staggered up the stairwell to their dormitory. Albus was probably asleep before his head hit the pillow. It had been a famous day in Gryffindor's Quidditch history: the day Slytherin caught the Snitch but lost the game all the same.