A/N: So, I had a very long chapter for you all… too long. I've cut it here for now, and hopefully that means Chapter Thirteen will post quite soon. I realise the 'summer' of this book seems to be taking quite a while (although, to be fair, I think it was 20 chapters of the previous book as well)… but I promise we will be moving a bit faster in the next chapter.
In the meantime, enjoy 'Noctiluca scintillans'!
PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and/or story lines are the property of Joanne Rowling.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
Noctiluca Scintillans
Albus called over his shoulder to Aberforth to mind the house, and hurried off down the lane after Gellert. The other boy was nearly skipping with excitement.
'Gellert!' Albus called, jogging a bit to catch him up.
Grindelwald turned with his face still shining. Albus stopped in front of him, clutching at a slight stitch in his side. The bright morning had clouded into a dreary afternoon, and a soft drizzle of rain coated his face and forearms as they stood in the deserted street.
'This… what you saw this afternoon,' he said carefully, 'It cannot go farther, do you understand? Nobody can know. Even Bathilda…'
'She does not know?' Gellert asked, looking surprised.
'She may have suspicions,' Albus allowed. 'But I do not believe my mother told even her the full truth. You must know what danger she – all of us – would be in, should word of her illness reach the wrong ears.'
'Stop calling it an illness,' Gellert scorned. 'I've told you – it is power.'
Albus felt his anger rise. 'It is not the sort of power which will be lauded, Gellert,' he said sharply, though in a low whisper. 'It is the sort that will get her imprisoned, or even killed. That she has survived to date is a miracle. Most with her condition do not live past the age of ten. I cannot put her at risk – I will not. If you cannot swear to me that you shall keep the secret, then I am afraid –'
'Certainly I will swear it, if you wish,' Gellert agreed before he could finish. 'You must know, Albus, that I would not put you or your family in harm's way. I cannot remember finding an acquaintance I have enjoyed more thoroughly, and I should hate to give you up to the gallows.'
He gave a smile, but Albus could hardly return it through his own nerves.
Gellert sighed. 'I shall swear it,' he said again. 'But before I do… I want to show you something.'
Albus glanced back at the cottage, hesitating.
'How long does she usually sleep after a fit like that one?' Gellert asked, not unkindly.
Albus considered. 'A few hours, at least,' he admitted.
'Time enough then,' Gellert decided. 'Come with me. I promise, you will not regret it. And I shall give you whatever vows you desire when we have finished.'
He waited for Albus' nod. Then, to the latter's surprise, he started on foot not toward Bathilda's home, but down the lane in the direction of the village. As they walked, Gellert cast a tricky little charm – giving them a bubble of privacy from any prying ears that might have defied the vacancy of the street.
'She is an Obscurial,' he said bluntly.
'Yes,' Albus agreed. There was little point in denial.
Gellert shook his head as he kicked a small stone in the path. 'I had never seen an Obscurus in person before,' he said. 'Though their power, of course, is well-documented in the histories. They were said to be all but vanished from this part of the world.'
'There had not been one in Britain since the early 1700s,' Albus agreed. 'Abroad, it is a less singular occurrence… though still quite rare, particularly in the European countries.'
'Yes,' Gellert said, nodding to himself. 'But an Obscurial child of a wizarding family… your family, no less. Forgive me, my friend, but I cannot imagine your own powers blossomed so fully in a house where Magic was discouraged.'
'No,' Albus admitted. 'It was not our parents who created the circumstances from which Ariana's affliction was born.'
'Might I ask – at the risk of impertinence – what did happen, then?'
So Albus told him. He was not entirely sure this was wise… but Gellert already knew the darkest secret. He found, as the details poured from him for the first time in full, that even through the pain there was something cathartic in it. He had never before had this – an equal, privy to everything, in whom he might confide. Even with Aberforth, he never spoke of what had happened to Ariana; only of what she had become… and how to control her, keep her, and save her.
They had reached the village square by the time he finished. Gellert took them to the left, toward the little church. It was silent at this hour.
'An unspeakable force of evil,' Gellert spat, colour high in his cheeks.
Albus sighed. 'Yes,' he agreed. 'But she cannot help it. It has more control than she –'
'I was not speaking of your sister,' said Gellert darkly.
They had reached the kissing gate. Gellert looked surreptitiously around – but the churchyard was quite as deserted as the street had been.
'I take it this was how you lost your father?' he asked.
Albus nodded shortly. 'When I was ten years of age,' he recalled. 'My father went after the boys who had attacked her… and he was imprisoned for his revenge. He could not, of course, explain why he had done it.'
Gellert's lip curled. 'Of course not,' he said angrily. 'But he should have. It was a righteous quest.'
'Perhaps,' Albus mused. 'But does it help, in the end? To spread the cycle of violence? My mother did not think so. She never spoke to us about it after those first few days… but I could tell. It could not undo the horror that had taken hold in my sister. And in the aftermath, we lost our father as well.'
'Sometimes, violence is the only way to end the cycle of destruction,' Gellert disagreed. 'Sometimes we must do the unthinkable – the cruel – to bring about a better world. Your father understood that. He should not have had to shrink from vindication.'
'He had no choice,' Albus reaffirmed. 'The Ministry would have taken her. She is – you must have seen – a great threat to the International Statute of Secrecy. A threat which only grows as the Obscurus gains in power. She cannot control herself, and she could not conceal her abilities.'
'But that is the crux of the problem,' Gellert argued, clenching his fist upon the metal gate. 'Why should we have to hide our abilities? Why should our children suffer and die, plagued by an affliction based in Muggle torture – or government-induced fear of what is theirs by birth right?'
Albus looked hard at his friend. 'It is because of children like Ariana that we have such laws,' he reminded him. 'The Obscurial is the rare case, of course… but Muggle persecution was rampant in the years before the Statute was signed. For children in particular, it has always been hard to control outbursts of magic. We could not risk lives…'
'And for what?' Gellert challenged. 'Why are we so bound to their laws? Why are our governments built around the mission to conceal the Magical world, rather than to bring it into power? You speak of the threat Muggles posed to us… but we are the superior race. We are the blessed ones.'
'We are all human, Gellert,' Albus pointed out. 'Wizard and Muggle alike. There are wizarding children born every day to Muggle parents; and Muggle children born to wizards. It is the duty of society to work for a better world for all.'
'Yes,' Gellert agreed. 'But in a better world, Albus, your sister would not have been tortured for her gifts. She would have been lauded. In a better world, wizards would have what is theirs by the natural order – we would be the powerful; charged with the protection of all. We would not crouch in the shadows, in fear of our own exposure. We would not be taught to tamper and shroud the talents that have been granted to us.'
'That is not the way the world is, Gellert,' Albus said sadly.
Gellert unhitched the kissing gate, pushing his way through. He held the wrought iron for Albus to pass him into the churchyard.
'Not yet,' he said. 'But it only takes the right men to make it so.'
Albus felt the thrill of power once more as he stepped through, matching stride with Grindelwald as the latter chartered a course among the headstones.
'These laws – this Statute of Secrecy – is based upon a fallacy sold to us throughout the centuries,' Gellert said quietly. 'We say it is for our protection… but it is not, Albus. It is for Theirs.'
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That night, which was to be their last on this visit to Shell Cottage, Harry did something he had not yet had a chance to do during their stay.
He took an evening walk with Dumbledore.
The outing had been the headmaster's suggestion, shortly after their supper and the parting of the Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Minerva had requested Remus' assistance in sorting through some of his old materials – hoping, Harry assumed, that she might expedite the process of forcing Alastor Moody to choose books for his own upcoming lessons. Sirius, who had been unusually quiet through dinner, had retired early, claiming a headache. Harry rather suspected that Sirius was not looking forward to tomorrow's departure. He himself felt a pang at the leaving, though Albus had already promised that Harry could visit again within the fortnight.
Despite the harrowing events of Snape's afternoon lesson, Harry was not tired. On the contrary, he could barely contain his endless curiosity – for he had been able to tell for hours that there was something the headmaster was keeping from him. He had schemed to confront Dumbledore that evening either way, when the headmaster himself remarked that it was perfect weather for a moonlight stroll.
And so it was. The air was still and comfortably warm; the quiet of their desolate location broken only by the lapping of the waves against the shore and the soft chirping of crickets calling to one another in the seagrass. The moon – bright and nearly-full in the cloudless sky – provided more than enough light even for the somewhat perilous descent along the rickety staircase, and Harry did not need his wand for additional guidance. Albus took him to the left at the base of the stairs – the opposite direction to the rockpools he and Snape had explored that afternoon. He walked at a leisurely pace, so that Harry had no trouble matching step beside him.
'You have questions, I do not doubt,' the headmaster opened, soft moonlight shining off the white of his beard as he turned his head toward Harry.
'One or two,' Harry agreed with a grin.
Albus inclined his head. 'You may as well ask,' he invited.
'Alright,' Harry agreed. 'What was Kingsley doing here? I thought we were keeping Sirius from the Ministry… and you said he was a friend of yours, but it was obvious he didn't know Sirius or Remus well.'
'No, he had never met Sirius before tonight,' Albus confirmed. 'And Remus and Kingsley are hardly more acquainted.'
'That seems an awfully big risk,' Harry observed. 'How could you know he wouldn't… I don't know, tell the Minister?'
'Because I have taken some considerable time to know Mr Shacklebolt myself,' Albus explained. 'It is much easier, you see, to predict the actions of people we know well to situations we ourselves place them in. I knew it would not be an easy introduction, but I also understood that Kingsley would stay to hear the whole of the story, and that – once he had – his judgment would be free from prejudice.'
Harry thought about this as flecks of sand peppered his ankles above his trainers. 'What if you're wrong?' he asked quietly. 'I mean… he seems alright… but what if he gives Sirius away?'
'I do not believe I have misjudged his character,' Albus said carefully. 'Although, as I have said many times, my judgment is not infallible. Even so, there are protections upon this cottage which would secure Sirius in the event that Kingsley were to betray him. He was only able to pass the threshold of my wards because I myself brought him through – he could not hope to imitate the journey without my company. Sirius, so long as he does not take the risk of leaving the protected property, is well out of reach of Ministry searchers.'
'Snape mentioned something of the wards,' Harry remembered. 'But he could come here without your bringing him. Why?'
'Professor Snape,' Dumbledore began – putting just the slightest emphasis on the title that Harry had dropped, 'Stayed in the cottage himself, many years ago. He has been keyed to the wards since that time. He, Remus and Sirius – and of course Minerva, who has partial ownership of the property – have the freedom to come and go at leisure. So too could they bring others within its protection. But even you, my dear boy, would find yourself unable to enter without the company of one who has been keyed to Shell Cottage. Kingsley is in a similar position.'
'Snape stayed here?' Harry asked, struck by this odd bit of news. 'When? Why?'
'A story which is not mine to tell,' Albus said quietly. 'Perhaps, one day, he will share it himself.'
'And perhaps I'll have the highest score on the Potions O.W.L.,' Harry countered bitterly.
Albus chuckled. 'Your Potions have come on very nicely,' he said. 'I would not rule out the possibility.'
Harry frowned. 'Why did you send him today?' he asked instead.
'I do apologise for the lack of notice,' Albus lamented. 'I fear I did not entirely think through the implications of my intention with Kingsley. It was not until I reached London that it occurred to me it may be more prudent to engage you in activity outside the cottage for an hour or two. It was lucky Severus was so quick to answer the call.'
'Why?' Harry asked again, a bit mulishly. 'Why send me away? Was it because… well, because you thought the meeting between Kingsley and Sirius might be awkward? I wouldn't have –'
'Not entirely,' Albus hedged, 'Although that certainly played a part in the decision. As we have already discussed, I could not know, for a certainty, just how Kingsley would react upon seeing a man he had hunted as Britain's most dangerous fugitive for nigh on a year. But more than that, there was certain information I needed to give him that I did not feel it entirely appropriate to impart in your presence.'
Harry was a bit shocked at the honesty, but bristled at once under its implications. 'Because I'm too young to –' he began hotly, but Dumbledore interrupted again.
'No,' he disagreed. 'Because it is of a subject on which I had not yet spoken to you, and which – I felt – I ought to do under less critical circumstances.'
The angry swell in Harry's chest subsided somewhat. He walked in silence a moment, waiting for the headmaster to continue.
'The last time Lord Voldemort was powerful,' he began after a fashion, 'The Ministry was in disarray. There were few who could be absolutely trusted, and many whose loyalties, or minds, or both, were under constant suspicion. His rise to power – though not by any means sudden – was subtle and cunning in a way that still took the government largely by surprise, and his means of securing his followers were such as had not been seen in Britain in living memory. The result, as he no doubt intended, was the creation of a chaotic abyss within the order of the country. By the time the Ministry had begun to form a systemic resistance, it was far too late. He had infiltrated everywhere, and every attempt to bring him to heel ended in disaster and tragedy. He had spies and cohorts in every department of the government, and the institution itself seemed likely to fall.'
Still, Harry waited. He had heard much of this before… and knew it could not be Dumbledore's ultimate purpose.
'In the shadows, however,' the headmaster went on, 'There was a second resistance – at times more powerful than the Ministry itself.'
'Outside the Ministry?' Harry said, frowning. 'But… then who created it?'
He thought he already knew the answer, and the headmaster's sad smile confirmed it before he spoke.
'I did,' said Albus. 'A most secret society, called the Order of the Phoenix.'
'The Order,' Harry repeated, sudden recognition dawning. 'I wondered…'
'Yes,' Albus affirmed. 'It was created of men and women – and I use the terms quite deliberately, for there were more than just Magical folk in her ranks – who had dedicated themselves to the eradication of Voldemort and his followers. Some were members of the Ministry, and many were not. Some fought with weapons, others with words. Some gave themselves entirely to the war effort, and some served peripherally while maintaining other jobs, or families, or even false loyalties. It was a dangerous and uncertain path, and over time – as Voldemort gained strength – many were lost in the cause.'
'My parents,' Harry guessed, seeing similarities in the explanation and all that he had heard from Sirius, Remus and the headmaster himself.
'Yes,' Albus agreed heavily. 'James, Lily, and many others. Well over three-quarters of the Order of the Phoenix were lost in the war, fighting to save those who could not fight for themselves.'
'But…' Harry hesitated, frowning again. 'But I don't understand,' he said at last. 'You were – what, telling Kingsley about the Order today, when you had Snape take me away for my lesson?'
'We were,' Albus said.
'But it was years ago,' he pointed out. 'Even if it was secret then, why would…'
But he trailed off, suddenly understanding. He stopped in his pace, and Dumbledore paused too – turning to face him in the sand. He wore that same, sad smile once again.
'You're bringing it back,' Harry said, certain the deduction was true.
'Yes,' Albus agreed seriously. 'Although we know Lord Voldemort has not yet returned, it is foolish to assume complacency. I have some concern that the Ministry will not recognise the danger until it is upon us, and I do not wish to test the perils of appeasement. We will not reform the Order officially just yet… but the time is ripe for recruitment. There are few of us remaining who have survived.'
The thought made Harry feel slightly ill. He thought of his parents – dead at Voldemort's hand. Neville's parents – worse than dead. Sirius – imprisoned for more than a decade. How many more casualties must there have been?
He was not sure he wanted the answer, just now.
'So, Kingsley…' he asked instead. 'He wasn't in the Order last time?'
'No,' said the headmaster. 'He was engaged on the Continent for much of the war. But he is a skilled Auror and a good man – he will be an asset to us this time. I am hopeful that he will aide in enlisting others of likeminded view from the Ministry ranks.'
'What will you do?' Harry asked eagerly. 'How will you fight?'
Albus smiled, but shook his head. 'I will not go into details now, Harry,' he said gently. 'The Order operates in the greatest secrecy. It is necessary, for the protection of all. I shall, of course, tell you of things that concern you – and I shall not keep you in the dark where Lord Voldemort is concerned… but I will neither burden your mind with the details of our plans nor forsake my vows to the Order to provide every confidence. I have told you all this tonight so that you may understand. It is likely, in the next year or so, that things may become more complicated.'
Harry felt the heat in his chest blaze once more. 'But, I'll join!' he insisted. 'I want to help – I want to fight with –'
'No,' Albus said, uncharacteristically firm. 'You are not of age, Harry. You would not yet have the skill, and I would not risk your safety for anything.'
'But I've faced him before,' Harry pointed out, miffed. 'Three times, now.'
'You have,' Albus agreed. 'But even still, I cannot allow you to place yourself in greater danger. Not while you are still underage, and not while you are still in school.'
'But it's what I choose,' Harry insisted. 'I want to fight him. I want to help.'
'At the moment,' Albus said with a sigh, 'The choice is not your own, Harry. And that is precisely my point. When you are of an age to make your own decisions freely – when you have all the information, and the ability to make an informed choice – then, and only then, will I allow you to consider it.'
He had not raised his voice, but Harry could feel the finality in his tone all the same. He knew it could do no good to argue. They walked on some minutes in silence – Harry still too irritated for speech – until a flash of colour in the distance made him pause, driving the Order and the annoyance temporarily from his mind.
'Harry?' Albus questioned, turning with a slight smile on his face.
Harry did not answer at once, still gazing intensely at the place where he'd seen the flash. He was about ready to give it up as a trick of the night, when…
'There it is again!' he said aloud, watching another appear. It looked almost like lightning – except that it was far too low, and much too small. He might have thought it the flash of a spell… but the headmaster's easy manner beside him spoke against a duel in their vicinity.
'Ah,' Albus said, giving a short chuckle. 'We have found it, then.'
Harry frowned at him, utterly bewildered. Albus set off toward the flash of light… which, Harry realised after a few more paces, was somehow coming from the sea itself.
'What did you do?' Harry asked in wonderment, staring at the expanse of sea. As each new wave crested, perhaps the length of a Quidditch pitch away near a bend in the shore, a flash of brightest blue appeared before him.
'I?' Albus questioned, his own eyes twinkling in almost the same shade. 'I assure you I did nothing.'
He walked forward, closer to the edge of the ocean. Harry saw, as they crept nearer, that a flat shoal extended quite some distance. The mighty waves crashed many yards out, while in this protected shallow the water was quite as still and smooth as glass. The headmaster stopped just short of the water, gesturing Harry closer.
'Step in,' he invited softly.
Harry raised his eyebrows dubiously.
'It is quite safe,' Albus promised, eyes twinkling in amusement. 'This shoal is only a few inches deep… not near enough water for jellyfish.'
Harry scowled at the reminder, but he kicked off his shoes and rolled the legs of his trousers. He wondered, vaguely, what the headmaster was on about… but then, he had learned with Albus that some things must be taken on faith alone.
He straightened and stepped forward into the water.
The effect was instantaneous, and so shocking that he nearly jumped back out again. The seawater felt quite normal – a bit warmer, perhaps, for the shallows that had no doubt basked in sunlight most of the afternoon. But the instant his feet grazed the surface, a swirl of the same, brightly glowing blue surrounded them. As he staggered, churning the water further, the glow grew in both brightness and size.
Amazed, Harry stooped down and cupped the seawater in his hands. He let it dribble out, and watched a glowing stream pour from his fingertips back to the ripples of blue beneath.
'I thought you might enjoy it,' Albus said, chuckling slightly from behind him.
'It's a spell,' Harry guessed, turning in fascination to Dumbledore. 'But how can you make it glow only where it's touched?'
Albus was smiling, but he shook his head. 'It is Noctiluca scintillans,' he corrected. 'Sea sparkle. And its luminesce is quite its own.'
Harry, shocked, watched the flashes of light in the distant waves again. 'Where does it come from?' he asked quietly.
'It is unknown, in the main,' Albus replied. 'Though the luminescent effects are created by high concentrations of the plankton, probably in response to similarly high concentrations of their food source. The glow that you witness tonight is often called mareel, or milky sea. It is not so common in this part of the country. A treat, really, that we are able to see it tonight.'
'How did you know it was here?'
'I noticed the characteristic deposits in the distance, when Kingsley and I Apparated to the cliffside earlier today,' Dumbledore informed him. 'In the daylight, the organisms leave the water with a certain rust-coloured sheen. Mariners refer to the occurrence as 'Red Tide'. I could not be sure that there would be sufficient deposits to render the walk successful… but, as it was so fine an evening, I saw no harm in the attempt.'
'Muggle mariners have seen it?' Harry asked, intrigued. 'The Red Tides?'
'And the Milky Sea effect,' Albus clarified. 'The name, I believe, is a centuries old term used by Muggle sailors. They believed, in ancient times, that it was the sign of a journey blessed by the gods.'
'You mean Muggles can see it too?'
'Oh yes,' Albus agreed. 'Noctiluca scintillans is not exclusive to our world – no more than is the sea. It is not considered a Magical Creature.'
'But, the glow…' Harry mused, moving his foot through the water again to send the blue light dancing. 'It's just – it's so odd to think it isn't made by magic.'
'It is not spellwork,' Albus qualified. 'But Magic is not a manmade phenomenon. Nature is full of magic all her own, Harry… and it is far older and far more constant than that which we might create. A pity that so few take the time to appreciate it.'
'Why do they light up in flashes?' Harry asked, sweeping his fingertips along the surface. 'Why only where they're touched?'
'A defensive mechanism, or so it is believed,' Albus answered. 'Individually, the plankton is so small it can scarcely be seen with the naked eye. But with enough banded together…'
He gestured one long hand at the sea, magnifying the breaking crest of the next wave to four times its usual size. A swell of brightest blue crashed upon the sandbar, nearly blinding Harry in its intensity.
And Harry understood.
He stepped out of the shallow shoal not long thereafter, gathering his trainers in his hand until the sand and salt might dry his feet. He waved off Dumbledore's offer of a drying spell… for he liked to watch the way his footprints glowed as they walked, together, back to the Cottage.
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Minerva had already turned in by the time Albus and Harry returned. As had Remus – who Albus knew must be feeling the effects of the approaching full moon. It was the main reason he had determined they should depart on the morrow. Though the potion would prevent any mishaps, Remus was wary of having Harry so near during a transformation, considering what had happened at the last cycle.
A shadow in the kitchen stayed his own ascent, however, as he and Harry approached the stairs. He paused, and Harry followed suit.
'Go on up,' he encouraged. 'It is quite late already.'
Harry looked curiously back at him but – finally showing some exhaustion from the day – shrugged, and climbed up alone toward bed. Albus waited until the door to the boy's room had shut before turning back for the kitchen, shooting a privacy charm at the base of the stairs as he went.
'Sirius,' he called softly as he pushed through the swinging door.
His guess had been correct. Sirius sat alone at the end of the countertop, wrapped in an indigo dressing gown and nursing a short glass of some amber liquid. Albus was not sure if the drink gave the shine to his eyes, or if he had grown teary.
He looked up as the headmaster entered, but did not give any other greeting. Albus conjured himself a tumbler from the air, and flicked his wand at a decanter on the marble surface. He slipped onto the neighbouring stool.
'A solitary nightcap is never advisable,' he opined lightly.
Sirius grunted, taking another swig from his own.
'Myself, I often find a use for it… in moderation, of course… when the tumult on my mind keeps me from sleep.'
Another grunt.
Albus sighed. 'Are you going to talk about it?' he asked. 'Or must you force me to coax it from you? Either way, I assure you, I have no intention of leaving you to wallow alone.'
'You wouldn't understand,' Sirius said at last.
'How can you know?' Albus wondered. 'If you do not attempt it?'
Sirius took another swallow, and straightened a bit in his chair. Suddenly, he turned to Albus with something close to desperation in his eyes.
'Can't you just take it away?' he asked in a hoarse whisper. 'Make it stop, please.'
Albus started somewhat, utterly nonplussed. 'Make what stop, Sirius?'
'All of it,' Sirius croaked. 'Everything. The last twelve years… just take them.'
The headmaster sighed again. 'A request beyond both my skill and my better judgment,' he admitted sadly. 'The past is written, Sirius. We must live for the present, and the future.'
'I don't need you to change it,' Sirius said softly. 'Just get rid of it. Just Azkaban… not everything. You could do it – modify my memory. You are the greatest sorcerer alive, Albus. And I need this. Please.'
Albus held the pleading gaze for a moment. He wished, very deeply, that he could return a different answer.
'I cannot, Sirius,' he said at last.
'Can't?' Sirius challenged, turning mulish, 'Or won't?'
'I would not advise it, were it even possible,' Albus said carefully. 'The experiences of our past – however terrible – inform our futures immeasurably. We are the men we are because of the trials we have suffered; the burdens we have shouldered; the tribulations we have overcome. The way to deal with your demons is to face them, my dear boy. To talk them through, and learn to live with their presence. Removing them is a superficial solution.'
'So, won't,' Sirius accused.
He threw back the reminder of his whisky and reached to refill the glass. Albus stayed his hand – closing his own on Sirius' wrist. It was stronger than it had been that day in the forest… but still far thinner than it had been thirteen years ago.
'I said I would not advise it,' Albus repeated. 'But I would do it for you all the same, Sirius, if you requested it and it were in my power to acquiesce.'
'And why isn't it?' Sirius challenged. His voice had raised, and Albus was fleetingly grateful for the privacy charm he'd cast on the staircase before entering.
'Because what you ask spans too many years and too many layers of your mind,' Albus explained. 'You do not seek modification, or even the obliteration of one instance. You wish to have twelve years vanished entirely. Your mind, Sirius, could not handle such alteration. To attempt such a charm would be to risk permanent damage to your memory, not to mention your sense of self… and even I am unlikely to succeed.'
Sirius' shoulders slumped. He stopped attempting his reach for the bottle, drawing his arm back. Albus, taking pity, refilled both tumblers himself. Sirius accepted his with mumbled thanks, and fingered the edge as he stared unseeingly into its depths. The headmaster waited.
'Everything is different,' Sirius began after a moment. 'Everything… And, sometimes, I don't know my place in it.'
Albus frowned. 'I cannot know the complications of adjusting to life after the ordeal you have gone through, my dear boy… but I know enough of the struggle to accept difficult truths. I know what it is to feel terrible loss – and I know that it never truly fades.'
'It's not just that,' Sirius disagreed. 'I mean it is, of course. It's hard. James, Lily, Marley… I don't think I'll ever get over it entirely. But it's everything else too. Remus – he's been great, he really has. But he's… different. Everyone is. They've had this decade out here and I'm…'
He hesitated, looking unsure.
'I haven't,' he decided at last. 'Remus has changed. You've changed; Minerva's changed. And then, there's Harry… he's near to grown, and I've missed it all.'
'You have not,' Albus assured him gently. 'Believe me, Harry is far from grown. He has much still to learn, and there is still very much a place for you. You are filling it already.'
'Am I?' Sirius returned quietly. 'I'm not so sure. Remus thinks –' He paused, grimacing. 'Remus thinks I confuse him with his father,' he confessed. 'With James. He harped on me this afternoon about setting an example, with Snape…'
Albus let the issue on Severus lie, for the moment. 'Do you confuse Harry with James, Sirius?' he asked instead.
'Of course not!' Sirius exclaimed. But after a moment, his resolution faltered somewhat. 'I mean – he looks just like him, except for the eyes,' he said. 'And he's like James in other ways… but he's half-Lily too. And a bit of you,' he added, smiling wryly. 'I know he's Harry,' he emphasised again. 'I know that. But I admit that, sometimes, I feel more like him than like Remus. He reminds me of what we were, at that age. And it feels a hell of a lot more reachable than where we're meant to be now.'
'That is understandable,' Albus said. 'It will take time. And I do not think a bit of fun would go amiss; though I do agree with Remus where Severus is concerned,' he added, giving Sirius a bit of a beady eye. 'It is a balance, Sirius. You will find it.'
'But it shouldn't be like this,' Sirius lamented bitterly. 'I shouldn't feel this cut up when he's going – because he shouldn't be going at all.'
Albus felt somewhat awkward.
'Don't get me wrong,' Sirius continued quickly. 'I'm very glad for what you've done for him – that you've been here, when I wasn't. And I know that I'm…' he sighed. 'I know I'm not in a position to do it myself – not right now. I've accepted that. It's just… I want something, sometime, to work out as it should.'
He drained the last of his second whisky, and shook his head. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It's been months – years, really. I ought to pull myself together. I shouldn't be carrying on like this.'
Albus squeezed his arm. 'My dear boy,' he said gently. 'It is alright, you know, not to be alright. It is then that we must lean upon those who care for us.'
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They stirred later than usual – each worn out by their own busy day. Albus could hear the clatter of saucepans below, suggesting someone had already begun prepping breakfast.
He hoped, even with the coming moon, Remus was not allowing Sirius the honour.
'We ought to get down,' he said softly, brushing Minerva's hair from her cheek as she turned away from the sunlight streaming through the window.
She groaned, pushing his hand off and straightening her plait as she sat up against the headboard.
'Five more to do today,' she muttered resentfully, taking the dressing gown he passed her and tying it over her nightshirt. 'Though they are the last, thank Merlin.'
Albus, heading for the bathroom, had just opened his mouth to reply when a patter of hurried feet down echoed through his thoughts.
'Hedwig's just turned up!' Harry's excited voice called, evidently racing closer down the corridor. 'Ron's written to ask –'
The door burst open before Albus or Minerva could move.
'Oh!'
Harry broke off, his expression going from thrilled to shock to horror to high embarrassment in a matter of seconds. His eyes bugged out of his face as he stared at the two in their night things – Minerva still seated at the edge of the mattress – and his cheeks flamed scarlet. The letter flopped limply to its side over Harry's raised fist.
'I… er…. Sorry,' he mumbled.
He backed out of the room quickly, pulling the door shut.
'Well,' Albus said, his blue eyes twinkling as Minerva jumped off the bed, straightening her dressing gown and nearly as scarlet as Harry had been. 'I guess that cat is among the pixies now.'
'Where did you think she went every night while you've been here?' Sirius was asking teasingly, when Albus walked down to find Sirius, Remus and a slightly whey-faced Harry sharing breakfast. 'All the way back to Hogwarts?'
Albus hovered just out of sight for a moment, listening to the conversation in the kitchen. He was glad that, at the very least, the morning's escapades seemed to have brought Sirius from his melancholy of the night before.
'I didn't want to think about it too closely,' Harry grumbled. 'It's not like I didn't… I mean I sort of guessed that… it's just – it's odd. I don't like it.'
Sirius laughed openly. 'Well, I hate to burst the Niffler's pouch, kid, but you're not that special. It's a right of passage – this is. And, to be frank, you might have been a lot less lucky. Why, I was only seven when I came upon my parents, completely starkers, with a broomstick and several conjured –'
'I'm not sure you're helping, Sirius,' Remus cut in loudly, as Harry looked likely to bring his eggs back up.
'That's not on,' Harry said weakly, as Sirius banged the table in high hilarity. 'They weren't doing anything, thank Merlin…'
'You see, it's like this,' Sirius coughed out, apparently having far too much fun to throw in the towel just yet. 'When two people have… certain feelings, shall we say –'
'Ugh, I am not five, Sirius!' Harry all but squealed. 'And I'm mates with Fred and George, remember? Any detail I might have missed in primary school… I'm well up on it now. And please… I really don't want to think about it.'
Albus decided the time had come to intervene. He stepped smoothly around the corner, an expression of absolute benign greeting upon his face. Sirius stopped laughing, though it appeared to be quite an arduous task.
'Harry,' the headmaster began, stepping inside the kitchen and hiding his own amusement with some difficulty. 'I realise, perhaps, we had not made certain situations plain to you. If you wish to discuss –'
'No, thank you,' said Harry quickly, looking panicked. 'I… er… that's okay. Let's just not.'
Remus put a hand to his mouth, hiding his grin. Sirius was nearly crying.
'Very well,' Albus said, inclining his head. 'In that case, perhaps you would like to tell me what it is you were so excited about a few minutes ago?'
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The putrid stench of horse feed and rotting wood pervaded their carriage as it bumped along through the Italian countryside. Wormtail's charms barely kept the jostling muted, and he hissed vehemently in remonstration when the basket in which he reposed skipped once more against the metal floor. Nagini shifted in response, encircling him more closely.
The useless servant himself whimpered slightly in recognition of his master's discontent, his own face a curious shade of green. The second basket – of food he had manged to stow away from its negligent purchaser at their departure from Caorle – lay untouched at his side.
It was not ideal, this paltry Muggle means of transport. But he did not dare leave a magical trail for the Aurors to follow. Already, even the Disillusionment charms that had been necessary for the boarding left him with a certain unease. But even less had he trusted Pettigrew's ability for stealth without magical aide.
The journey through the Adriatic had greatly tired him, as he had known it would. Even had he not feared the traces that magical travel might leave, he knew his rudimentary body would not be able to take it. But they were fighting time already, should they hope to stand a chance of putting the scheme he had begun to form into action. They still had most of the continent to traverse. Some method of Muggle transport would have to do, should they wish to reach Britain before the summer let out.
He had debated which direction, once their meagre dingy touched shore just outside of Caorle in the grey hour that preceded dawn. To go due north might have been most practical from a distance analysis, yet it would mean several additional borders, with their attendant guards and possible spellwork. Several additional chances that their presence might be noticed. North would also mean crossing the Alps – a feat for which he knew neither he nor his huffing companion was built for, at present. They would be nigh to impassable without magical aide… and magic in the mountains of Germany would hold more danger than perhaps anywhere else.
Dumbledore had presence there, and – he was certain – wards to guard it. The place was said to be unplottable, but that did not dispel the chance that they might inadvertently cross its myriad of spells. It would be harder to be certain, with his strength still low… and to set off their alarms would surely mean the end of their plot.
West was their only option.
'You had best learn to stomach something,' Lord Voldemort chastised his queasy servant. 'I shall need feeding again in an hour, and we will have a long journey on foot once we reach Turin.'
'I cannot, my Lord,' Wormtail muttered in a whinge. 'I have never done well in trains…'
He gave a mirthless scoff. 'You have never done well with much,' he corrected. 'But as you currently play a role in my fate, Wormtail, refusal is not an option. I shall need to be carried across the border, and we cannot risk additional spellwork until we are safely in France.'
'Yes, my Lord,' Wormtail agreed meekly. He reached a trembling hand into the wickerwork basket and retrieved a loaf of bread. He wrenched a chunk away with his teeth, clearly fighting an urge to gag as he chewed.
Lord Voldemort smirked in amusement, running a hand along Nagini's smooth scales. He could feel the snake's own eagerness to depart this undignified means of transport.
'Patience, my love,' he crooned to her softly. 'We shall be in Turin before sunset, and start for the French border in the night. I shall ensure you have the chance to hunt, once we have left this foul compartment.'
She coiled herself closer yet again in reply. Across the steel room, Wormtail cupped a hand to his mouth with a gurgle.
Voldemort ignored him.
'Not long yet,' he continued, though now more to himself than the snake. 'The border will be the greatest of our remaining feats. France will pass quickly enough, if we stow on another train. The Chanel shall be nothing to the sea we have just left. We grow closer every hour… to Britain, and to Harry Potter.'
The great snake hissed, just as Wormtail lost the battle with his stomach. Lord Voldemort stared through the crack in the heavy door with attention to neither – watching the sun sink lower over the distant mountains: setting over this dark isolation of his past, and preparing to dawn upon the age of his triumph.
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Review Responses, Chapter Eleven:
JavaBrightStar: Thank you for your review! Very glad you enjoyed the chapter centred on Severus so much – your reaction is quite what I was hoping for from Severus fans. What becomes of Spinners End will certainly unfurl later on in the story, and we will definitely see a follow-up to the little revelation at the end. Well done you for picking up on the Eileen/Tom Riddle hint – I wasn't sure many would. As to the first section… it had definitely been too long since I had the chance to explore a character who was alone for a good portion of time, and thus could enter his (or her) mind and view the scene without external dialogue. I wanted to get a bit of that in this chapter, and I'm glad you thought it worked.
Enjoy Chapter Twelve!
BlueWater5: Thank you for reviewing! Glad you enjoyed the writing last chapter, and I hope you'll like this latest one!
Me (Guest Reviewer): Haha, thanks for your review! Yes – summoning your wand is a highly important spell – and I believe my Severus has also said so before (to Ron, outside the Chamber of Secrets way back in Part I). It is rather horrible that Snape was interrupted at his dead father's home… but then, we had to have him back to join the fun for a bit, didn't we?
Very interesting scene suggestion – I love it. Not sure it will work in this particular book, but I'll certainly keep it in mind as I'd love to see it play out. I hope, in the meantime, that you enjoy Chapter Twelve!
AlsoKnownAsMatt: Thanks for your review! Not sure about your analysis of trust – because I think it ignores a lot of the deeper levels of this chapter. First of all, Snape openly says to Harry here not to trust, and to remember that nothing is certain. Sirius also points out to Remus that they have trusted before and been burned. I think you have to remember that we are seeing explanations from certain characters' POVs – not necessarily 'truth', and certainly not my own wisdom. We see only as far as the POV character does – a limitation of each narrator. I think that's something I have raised a few times now in different reviews. As to the idea of 'trust' – not a new theme for this story – it will have a larger role later on. I won't explain further at this time for fear of spoilers. I've spoken of 'blind' and 'wilful blindness' before as well (see a rather lengthy response posted in Chapter Three) … so I won't touch on it too much, but it does not equate to thoughtless here – but to 'unable to see, or foresee'.
Glad you enjoyed the Cokeworth portion of the chapter! It wasn't a flashback, btw… that was happening in current-time. Hope you like Chapter Twelve!
MoonshineMadame: Thanks for your review! Oo… favourite chapter? Interesting… and quite exciting. I cannot quite agree, as personally Severus is not my favourite character (though I love him too, don't get me wrong!), but I am thrilled that you felt it so. That initial confusion was definitely the point – rather like the Sirius flashback a few chapters ago; you're meant to wonder where we are and what we're doing until suddenly the details begin to click into place. Severus' childhood memories are so painful – and then so mixed, with his mother and Lily particularly – that I felt it was important to evoke all his senses in this scene. As to his mother's wand… you'll just have to wait and see! For the moment, it is merely a piece of memory – and a reminder that while he loved Eileen, he is not much like Eileen (their magics are not a fit).
Mmm… yes, Dumbledore's order to have Harry take a 'lesson' does seem rather arbitrary at first. I actually initially included a longer explanation of why it was but, as the scene played out, it did not feel quite natural and so I binned it. I figured readers would eventually work it out – as obviously you did. :) I'm glad you liked the way the lesson itself read – it was definitely meant to be a bit more light-hearted in an otherwise fairly heavy chapter. Haha, and it is definitely classic Harry to manage to put himself in danger playing in a rockpool.
Oh I am so excited to have Kingsley into the fold. And who comes shortly after him – I really think (or hope, at least) that readers will enjoy it. I wrote about five scenes last night (all for later this book, though not next chapter) on a bit of a surge thinking about Kingsley's new role. As to Sirius and Severus – you, and Remus, are right: they argue like school children, much to Albus and Remus' consternation, and the amusement of third-parties. We'll definitely see more of all these characters before – and after – school term begins.
Hesse… yes, I'm not quite sure why English will sometimes insist on changing native-tongue names, particularly when they are quite close to the alteration. Sometimes, in my writing, I just leave the native tongue. Other times, I change it. Here I only did as Albus was speaking to Harry… I suspect with others, like Grindelwald himself, it would have been more practical to leave the German moniker.
Thanks again for your review, and enjoy Chapter Twelve!
Anyeshabaner: Thank you for reviewing! Haha, yes, quite an intense chapter. Hope you enjoyed it – and I hope you like Chapter Twelve!
Estel Ashlee Snape: Thanks for your review! Yes, it's a bit odd that Tobias keeps all these things, I suppose, from Severus' POV. Of course, he does expect it, since Tobias told him in hospital that her things were all in the back bedroom. I think that is one of the most difficult things for him in this visit – having to recognise that there was a side to Tobias that he never knew… that piece which was for so many years shaded by drink and foul temper. In his own way, Tobias did love Eileen – not that that at all excuses what he did to her. Glad you enjoyed the rockpool lesson. I believe Snape was in agreement with you… as I am sure you probably worked out, the 'snide comment' that Harry faintly registers but does not heed enough to listen to is Snape telling him not to touch what flew out of the pool. Alas, not Harry's wisest moment.
Hope you enjoy the next instalment!
StormOwlRage: Thank you for reviewing! Happy to learn that you liked Severus' scenes this chapter. It is such an interesting adventure to write from his POV with the knowledge that Hallows imparted, and I'm glad you are enjoying the opportunities for characterisation that it affords. I dare say that you do detect a hint of respect, on both sides… though I do not believe either wizard has really admitted that to himself. This development is a bit of a long game – and I hesitate to admit that you will have to wait until Part V for the big payoff to this scheme… but I promise, it is coming – and there will be smaller payoffs between now and then as we further develop their relationship. Haha, and I'm glad you enjoyed my little joke with the cockles. In a world where I often offer overly complex explanation, I felt a simple one might be warranted here.
Mmm, and speaking of complicated explanations… Harry. I certainly agree – as Albus also points out – that Harry often seems to tap into his most powerful magic while under great duress and strong emotion. I dare say that some of the Dementor explanation, as it is derived from canon in-part, will probably meet expectations… but I hope that, once that explanation and a few other things rather come together, the solution will still surprise some readers and play out in a way that makes sense for this story. I am loathe to give additional explanation now, as I don't want to ruin it :).
I adore Kingsley. I am not entirely sure why, as he is a relatively minor player in canon… but I've always been intrigued by him, and I wanted to introduce him a bit sooner here. I'm glad you liked his welcome into the Order and found it rather realistic, as I was a bit nervous about how that would play out on the page. Ooh, and Remus. Remus… is interesting. There are hints in canon that I played on for this – particularly Remus' insistence to Harry that he does not like or dislike Snape; his passivity when Snape blatantly outs is lycanthropy to the school; and his interactions with Sirius when Snape is at issue. Of course, Remus in canon was not in such close proximity to Snape that the viewer could see… and, in this story, I felt that my Remus – who is so used to dealing with his own inner demons and knows Snape a bit better – would have need to say something. We had a bit of a prelude to this way back in Chapter Three, and I very nearly did it in Part II (the scene where Remus presses Snape to use Lily's name, then corrects it, when Snape visits Remus in his quarters to tell Remus that Harry is avoiding learning the Patronus properly because he can hear his mother's voice when Dementors approach). It felt too early in their relationship, however, to drop that bomb in Part II… so I hinted at the knowledge instead. I rather think Remus, knowing what Snape is about to get into, is keen to offer him some sort of companionship – a port in the storm, I suppose. Snape, as is quite obvious, is less inclined to accept. We'll see how this develops…
In any case, very glad you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you will like Chapter Thirteen!
Bubblea: Thank you for your review, and glad to see you back! Yes, it is mad to go back to Part I… I did it myself only a month or so ago, and I nearly paused in my current work to revisit it. Some of the change is experience, I suppose… some, just because the story has grown more complex. I thank you for the compliment either way, and I am glad you are enjoying the story! Hope you like the next chapter.
Guest: Thanks for reviewing! Wow, super long review too… I'll do my best :). Very glad, first off, to hear you enjoy the story so much. As to Severus' abode… well, I'm quite sure they could have devised a different option, but I think you will find there was a certain strategy in this choice. Of course, it does also strike similarities to the situation with Sirius and Grimmauld Place, which I assure you is deliberate. However, I would not suppose that Severus' POV in Chapter Twelve truly shows the entirety of this choice. Severus is somewhat of a masochist… and I think the situation with Spinners End will play itself out to show a bit more than we gleaned from his section of this past chapter. As to his mother's wand… you'll just have to wait and see! For the moment, it is merely a piece of memory – and a reminder that while he loved Eileen, he is not much like Eileen (their magics are not a fit). Severus himself will not use the wand. The piano… no, I'm afraid Sirius does not have much in the way of musical skill, although I find your suggestion quite intriguing. I can guarantee, however, that the piano will resurface and play a role later in the story. I myself am a vocalist and a pianist with a long background in musical theatre, so I quite agree with you on the properties of music… and I'm sure I will be unable to help myself weaving it in somehow.
The Summoning Charm, of course, we started way back in the early chapters of Part II… and Harry does seem to have issues with the spell, even wanded. An intriguing theory you have put forth – as we saw in the early chapters of this entire series, with Severus' first flashback, that Harry was punished for his accidental Summoning as a very young child (he summons a stuffed toy, and Petunia spanks him for taking it from Dudley). Now, as he frustratingly laments, he has a bit of a 'block' on the spell. The two are not unrelated. As to Voldemort… that answer will make itself known in time. But it is quite true that Wormtail, at least, is aware that Harry has some unusual ability in wandless spellwork. The Lion's Mane was a deliberate choice, though mostly as it is a play on the 'Lion's Bane'. However, the observations you make on the allegory and the theme of the chapter more generally are quite correct in many respects. It is certainly about prudence, and the limits and sagacity of trust.
Albus' choice to pull Harry away… well, it should irritate you, somewhat. It certainly irritates Severus. However, the beginning of the next chapter will, I think, clear certain aspects up. And yes, Albus could have gone about telling Kingsley in a different manner… but I believe seeing with one's own eyes is often the most expedient and complete way to determine truth, and Albus was banking on that. It also allowed the entire group to get to know one another, for Harry (eventually) to meet Kingsley, and for certain conversations to be held more fully. The keying of the wards – well, the simple explanation is that Kingsley was not keyed to them at all. As you probably remember, Albus brought Sirius and Remus to the house. He was able to bring them inside its warding, because he is the warder. He only 'keys' them to the location to allow them to come and go on their own – and, as they are keyed, they could also bring others in and out by Side-Along Apparition if they choose to do so. Minerva and Severus are similarly enabled – though the backstory of how Snape came to be so has not been explored. Minerva, obviously, is a co-owner of the house and would have been at the first. Kingsley is able to enter because Albus brings him, but he would not be able to come on his own.
Harry's feelings for Snape are far more complex than they were two years before. As to Sirius, he does in many ways fill the role you describe, but I think Remus would be remiss if he did not remind Sirius that he is the adult, where Harry is the adolescent. Sirius could use a friend… but he struggles to remember at times that Harry is not James; and that is not healthy for either of them. But yes, trust is a complex and sometimes detrimental thing… and those questions are meant to ring throughout this chapter and this story in general. I would not be so quick, incidentally, to assume Moody will play the same as in canon (hint!). Harry shows some maturity here in his demands on Severus' identity, and I think Severus is inwardly as pleased as yourself by the incident. While Remus discusses the need for trust this chapter, Severus' message is that trust can never be assumed. As to the individuality of magic bit… these questions on how Moody/Crouch fooled Albus in canon are precisely the right ones to ask. Some of the explanation will come… but I also will say that 'seeing' a magical aura is not really a visible thing – it is more of a sensation. And, as Severus hints, one can 'mask' their magical signature. To change it to mirror another's is, however, impossible. I think in re-reading Goblet of Fire, it is interesting that Moody/Crouch performs little to no spellwork in the headmaster's presence.
Remus… he knows more than what he lets on. I am of the opinion that Remus has always been fairly observant, and – as you say – it was not as if their friendship could have gone unnoticed at school. Rowling herself has said several times that she believes James always knew Snape loved Lily, and that Remus too would not have been oblivious to this. Remus offers it here trying to draw Snape out… but yes, it does bring him into an even darker place. Severus' journey this book, as has been hinted since the summary itself, will be a dark one emotionally and magically.
Summer pranks – not out of the realm of possibility. That is all I will say at this time. House elves… well, I do think Harry knows them better in COH than he does in canon; he interacts with them particularly in COH I and II (we haven't had quite as much interaction in this book yet). I didn't go down the SPEW rabbit-hole in Part I because Hermione herself, while indignant, hadn't actually had much interaction with the elves before or seen what she considered derogation. It will probably play into this book at some point… but although I am in agreement that elf rights out to be represented more, I also agree with Rowling's general observation that Hermione's SPEW campaign, while admirable, misses the mark because it fails to account for the will of the very people (loose interpretation) that it seeks to protect. It is, however, quite true that this is a complex world with problems that stretch far beyond the good and the evil… indeed, most of the characters themselves are some shade of grey. I enjoy the elves – the canon ones and those I have introduced – but I worry that bringing them in too often detracts from the main story. Don't worry though – they will not go unseen.
As you have posted twice on it, I will offer for readers that I also highly encourage donation to Lumos – a fantastic organisation that James and I fully support. They have dozens of programmes and opportunities to get involved in the UK and around the world, so I do hope readers will consider donating or volunteering.
Enjoy Chapter Thirteen!
Guest (Second Guest Reviewer): Thank you for reviewing! Very glad to hear that you liked Chapter Eleven, and I do hope you'll enjoy this new instalment!
