Last Time: Harry has had a conversation with Narciss with the woman of a darker mindset telling Harry to not feel bad about killing Lucius.

Book 2: Pestilence

Chapter 23

Harry's first day back to Hogwarts was… an odd one. As he walked towards the Great Hall, the whispers seemed to be even more intense. People gave him looks and seemed to be cautious to approach him. Crowds even parted in front of him. He remained stoic throughout it. He would not let these people dictate what he did or felt.

He knew he was much earlier than the other students, but it still was clear a fair amount of students had remained at Hogwarts. It was such a benefit being able to walk up to the castle from his home. He could have even taken the secret passage way at the base of the Whomping Willow.

He glanced around him, looking to the other students. Narcissa was right. Many of them he was a social better to. His signature signed the slip of paper that allowed their parents to bring home gold. He would not let that go to his head, but they could not fathomably comprehend the burdens placed upon him for having that social status.

He glanced up at the Head Table as he walked between the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. He noticed some of the staff glance his way before going back to their lunch.

Harry took his seat at the front of the Ravenclaw table and began to process of making his sandwich. He would not cause a scene, not in the Great Hall, not on his day back. If someone else was the cause of it, he would finish things.

He noted the few Prefects scooting away just slightly. Not a whole lot, but definitely noticeable to Harry. He didn't care what they thought of him. Once he had use to them again, they would act as though nothing had happened. But Harry would remember.

He ate his sandwich and drank his water. He thought on his meeting after lunch, in Godric's Study. Dumbledore had sent a request for a meeting between them. The old man let Harry decide if he'd go through with the meeting, the date, the time, and the location. To some, it may have seemed like the aged Headmaster was waiting on Harry's schedule, just as Harry had waited on Flitwick's the previous year.

But Harry knew better.

Dumbledore was attempting to get into Harry's good graces. Harry knew this. For what reason, Harry was uncertain, but he knew what the man was trying to do. By letting Harry set up the appointment, including the location, then arguably Dumbledore would be thrown off. It would be in a place of Harry's power, not one of Dumbledore.

And with that place of power came a certain comfort. Dumbledore was going to try and get Harry comfortable around him and possibly let his guard down so something could slip. But the Headmaster would be in for a rather interesting time.

The preemptive strike had been Harry agreeing to the meeting without any additional prodding. No doubt Dumbledore had thought he'd have to keep sending requests until Harry broke down. The second strike to keep Dumbledore off balance would be to hold the meeting in Godric's Study.

The reason for the meeting spot was Harry doubted Dumbledore knew the study even existed. Harry had left everything precisely the way it was when he had found it, with the exception of added paperwork and he had removed War's Gauntlets. This meant that the room did not have the creature comforts that an office or a parlor would have.

It was an old room for a warrior wizard. It did not have creature comforts. It had necessities. The table was too high to comfortably work at while sitting, and too low to comfortably work at while standing. It was just a slab of granite placed upon support. Even the chairs weren't meant for comfort. They were just thick portions of logs from a tree.

It was a far cry from Dumbledore's ornate and plush chair in both his office and at the Head Table. Some might call it a throne, but Harry knew that it had been the seat of the Headmaster for… centuries.

He'd have to double check when it originally was brought in.

The point was that Dumbledore would have to sit upon something less comfortable. It wouldn't be comfortable and would actually hurt after a while. But Harry would be a lot more comfortable than Dumbledore would be, his body was still young, spry.

Harry rose to his feet once he finished his meal. He grabbed his bag and walked out, keeping his slow pace. It was a pace of confidence. He refused to allow anyone to break his confidence any more. He went directly towards the entrance to Godric's personal study.

Once at the painting of the dragon slayer, Harry clasped his hands behind his back and simply waited. He was in no real rush to for Dumbledore to get there. After all, it would be another several hours before the students that had left would be coming back.

Harry heard the brush of robes and steps of the boots that Dumbledore wore on his feet. Harry glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you for joining me Professor." Harry went back to looking at the painting.

"Well, I must admit I did not anticipate the chance the chance to speak with you so suddenly Mister Potter." Dumbledore said as he came up to stand with Harry. "This seems like an odd choice for a conversation."

"In War, Victory." Harry said firmly. Dumbledore was surprised to see the previously unmoving portrait to lower its sword in salute to Harry. The portrait then slowly swung open, clearly not being traversed often. "I will be changing the password again once you leave our meeting. Welcome to the Study of Godric Gryffindor."

Dumbledore was visibly surprised and Harry hid his smirk as he walked in. If he kept the older man off his balance the entire meeting, it might actually go smoothly. Harry moved towards the table and took a seat at his usual spot, on a log that was just slightly off balance that forced Harry to maintain balance on it.

He watched as Dumbledore walked in and began to look around at everything in surprise. He moved along towards some of the artifacts in the room. Some of the artifacts glowed with the arcane energy they possessed.

"Mr. Potter, are you certain some of these are safe?"

"They haven't acted up yet." Harry said simply. "And even if they had, I won't let you or anyone else remove them. They don't belong to you, they don't belong to me."

"But Mr. Potter, these come from a time- "

"They come from a time where Magic was more intent based!" Harry said rather loudly. But he grit his teeth and tried to refocus. "They belong to the Heir of Godric Gryffindor. That is not me or you. Only Godric's Heir will get them."

"But there hasn't been an Heir of Gryffindor at Hogwarts in centuries." Dumbledore protested. "Who knows when there will be another, and if these items will remain safe that long."

Harry sat back a little smugly. It seemed even the venerable Albus Dumbledore didn't know everything. Excellent. "In the last century alone, three of Godric's heirs have passed through these halls. Two Huffllepuffs and a Gryffindor." Harry said.

The sheer shock on Dumbledore's face was worth it all. "You know who Gryffindor's heir is."

"A personal project I have worked on for the majority of the year. Professor, I know why you called this meeting. Let's cut right to the meat of the matter, I tire of your games, Headmaster. Nothing will be removed from this office. It will all go to Godric's Heir. If you wish to find out who it is, I recommend you spend the fifty or so galleons to get all the appropriate information and then spending your free time, what little there must be as Headmaster of this school, researching through the information.

"The meat of the matter is you wish to speak with me in regards to what happened to Lucius Malfoy. I will not apologize. I will not regret his death. End of story, end of discussion. I spoken about the matter with people far more capable of relating to me than you are Professor. I am not some flawless Paragon of Good that will refuse to take a life. I will not give people third, fourth, fifth chances. I barely give second chances."

"But Harry- "

"Mister Potter to you Headmaster." Harry said sharply. "And no buts about this. I will not yield on it. I am the almighty mountain when it comes to my decisions. I do not have to explain myself to you. It had nothing to do with school. Expel me if you feel it necessary, but I will not explain myself to an old man that can't see people for the monsters they are."

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long time. Those blue eyes so very rarely had any sort of twinkle in them whenever he looked at Harry. Just disappointment and a touch of shame. Slowly, Dumbledore removed his glasses and sat across from Harry. The elder wizard slowly cleaned his glasses with a simple spell before he set them back upon his nose. Briefly, he touched where it had been broken.

Slowly, Dumbledore looked back at Harry. "Perhaps… I am a touch soft Harry." He said softly. He held up his one hand as Harry was about to cut him off. "Please, let us speak as equals here."

"Albus." Harry said, allowing the request after a moment.

"I see the good in everyone. Or I try to. Severus had a great deal of love for your mother – "

Harry's snort cut Dumbledore off. "Excuse me if I don't see it, Albus, but the Potions Master had at best lusted after my mother. A large difference to be certain. A disgusting difference, but a difference. Had he loved her, he wouldn't have treated me like garbage during both meetings I have had with the man. Had he loved her, he would have accepted the fact that she went on to love James Potter."

"The heart is fickle Harry."

"You feel that way with Grindelwald?" It was a cheap shot by Harry, it really was, but Harry's anger was slightly sparked by Dumbledore. He was attempting to lecture him, despite trying to meet as 'equals'.

Dumbledore had the grace to look away. He didn't say anything on the matter. But he stood up and inhaled deeply. No doubt he was trying to think of something, anything, that could connect them in some way. But Harry was the darkest shade of gray that was just shy of being black. He wasn't Dumbledore with his heart of gold that was taken advantage of and unable to change things.

"I hope, Mister Potter, that you're ready for the challenges ahead." Dumbledore said softly. "The political field is a pit of vipers, all ready to strike and tear you apart. If you have found one of the Heirs, I have no doubt you have found the others. I think you have it in you to change things, and you will have my support if you should need it." Dumbledore then saw himself out slowly, glancing about one final time.

Harry stood up. He was never sure what he would get when dealing with Dumbledore.

-Scene Break-

It was four days since the students returned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore's Floo flared to life and outstepped his brother Aberforth, who Dumbledore had keyed into the Fireplace a long time ago so the man might come as he pleased. Not that Aberforth ever used it really. The two men were at odds with one another since Ariana's death. Not that Albus didn't attempt to mend and fix the bridge between them.

But Aberforth didn't know who cast that last spell that ended their precious sister's life. And until they figured it out, there would be little more than a rope bridge between them that would fall under the slightest hint of pressure and weight.

And Albus didn't blame his brother that.

"Aberforth." Albus greeted, standing up as his brother locked eyes with him. The younger brother strode over confidently.

"You know what this is about Albus." Aberforth growled out.

The offer made by Death. To raise Ariana's spirit and allow them both the answers they so desperately sought. Who was the one that cast that last spell?

"I've given it some thought and I have to ask what in the nine Hells are you thinking Albus?" The younger brother roared out. "Even considering disturbing our sister like that? For what? A peace of mind?"

Albus recoiled at the venom in his younger brother's voice. He had not expected it. But perhaps he should have. Aberforth had always been closer to Ariana, no matter what Dumbledore might have liked to say. Aberforth could keep Ariana calm and happy.

"Of all the stupid, asinine things you could want to do, you want to do this?! You want to disturb the dead? What are you thinking Albus?!" Aberforth roared in anger.

"I'm thinking that we both need this!" Albus said before he could stop himself. And after he had, he sat there in shock at what he had just done. He had shouted at his brother. He had yelled right back at Aberforth. And based on the surprise on Aberforth's face, he hadn't expected it either.

Albus hadn't shouted at Aberforth in… a hundred years? Close to it at the very least. Ever since Ariana died, he had resolutely refused to yell at his brother. No matter the argument, no matter the disagreement, Albus had always held steadfast and never shouted.

"We both need this Aberforth." Albus stood up and paced. He ran his hand through his hair, bushing it back. "We've been fighting for a hundred years, argument after argument. Neither one of us can let this go. I'm so terrified that I was the one that cast the spell, you're so angry at me for the argument to have happened. We can't let it go, we can't let it heal like this and we both desperately need to Aberforth. We need answers, and the only way we're going to get the Answers we speak is if we go and speak with our sister."

Clapping could be heard and both men turned to the door, wands raised.

Shimmering out of the shadows was Death in all of his glory, one hand smacking against his metal gauntlet in a slow clap. "Well spoken Wulfric." He said in that rattling voice. "You cannot heal without closure. And I can offer it."

Albus slowly lowered his wand. "Death." He greeted cautiously.

Death stepped forward slowly, locking those flaming green eyes on Aberforth. "Hello Fredrick." He said.

Albus interjected quickly. "It's what he does Aberfoth. Something to do with the old concept of names having power. He's not once called me Albus." He said.

"I sort of figured." Aberforth snapped at his older brother. He looked to Death then again. "You're the one that proposed this mad idea then?" He asked. His wand came up. "Reducto!"

Death batted the spell away effortlessly with his gauntleted hand. "Aberforth Fredrick Lucas Dumbledore!" He snarled out. "You have a lot of nerve! Try something so asinine again, and I promise you batting the spell away will be the least that I do." Death didn't seem too surprised by the attack, but he was most certainly upset by it.

Death then took a deep calming breath, clenching his gauntleted hand briefly before he pinned a glare at Aberforth. "Your sister will be fine, Fredrick. Her body isn't being raised, her Spirit is being brought over. Roused from a deep sleep at worst. She'll be fully coherent and able to speak. She won't be here for more than a few hours at worst. Now decide. I have places to be, things to do, souls to ferry to the afterlife. I will not deal with a petulant child that should have had grown out of this a hundred years ago"

"I would like to see her." Albus said almost immediately. "If nothing else, but to say that I am sorry for how I treated her. Say sorry for how Gellert treated her."

Aberforth looked at Albus for a time then over at Death. He nodded his head. "I want to see her as well." He said cautiously. If his brother could do it, then he should most certainly be allowed to do it. He didn't want to, but it was his sister. He hadn't seen her in a hundred years.

Death turned upon his heels. "I will meet you in Godric's Hallow tonight. How you get there, I don't care." He walked out, his invisibility cloak shimmering and causing him to disappear. There wasn't even footsteps to follow.

Albus stood up and made his way over to the fireplace. He transfigured his robes into something a bit warmer and cast the warming charms upon them. He then tossed Floo Powder in and stepped through for their parent's home at Godric's Hallow. Even if it had barely been used by the brothers, it would still work as a Floo Destination.

Aberforth hesitated a moment before following suit. He needed to do this as well, despite his words to the contrary.

-Scene Break-

Harry stalked around the graveyard. He walked it, learning about the spirits that were still there. He could feel souls that were waiting to pass on. A soul took three days to pass on unless the Pale Rider helped them. But he would need his strength that night. He would be performing magic that he had never done before.

The theory seemed easy enough, and he had already prepared the reagents. His blood would also factor into it. But that was fine.

He examined the graves. Dozens of Perevell as well. He had already paused briefly at the Phoenix that marked his parents' graves and wished that he could spend more time with them. He promised that he would return and that he would take his time to actually speak with them. Even if they couldn't hear him, he was sure it would help him.

He paused in front of Ariana Dumbledore's gravestone. He brushed the snow from the top of it carefully and kneeled beside the grave. No need to step on the grave. That was just disrespectful. So he kneeled there, tracing the letters of her name in the marble headstone.

Ariana Astrid Maria Dumbledore. Born August 5th, 1885. Died August 29th, 1899. She died so young. And not even a full one hundred years ago. How easy it would be to raise her as a zombie, to say her peace. But then if he did that, she would be murderous and kill whoever killed her.

Regardless of whatever barriers Harry put up.

Harry stood up and began to walk around the grave. He dragged the Harvester behind him so the blade dragged through the hard ground effortlessly. Like a constantly heated knife through ice, it seemed to just melt the dirt and snow around the blade as he dug the trench around the grave.

He pulled out a small bag and opened it. He began to sprinkle the powder along the trench. He would never repeat the process ever again. He would never tell Susan about the spell. It would, with some luck, die with him. The reagent was volatile. The slightest little mistake would have it blowing up in his face. Thankfully, with his knowledge of alchemic properties, he was able to stabilize it at least for a time with a reagent that wouldn't react to the spell either. The reagent would remain inert.

Harry paused in front of the gravestone and spears the earth with the Harvester. The barrier went up around him and he held his hands up in a sort of prayer fashion. He began the spell, even before the Dumbledore brothers got there. He chanted in Ancient Egyptian. He could feel the primal magic flowing through him and his body moved in time with it.

So many old magic were based upon dance because the body moved with the magic flowing through the castor. It was not a conscious decision, it was something that simply just happened.

There were various books of death that might have helped him channel the spell, but many of them were evil. Especially if they contained within them human death to go into their creation. It was a Pale Rider's duty to destroy them on sight since they fell into the same categories as most Lichs.

Maybe he could write a manuscript on Necromancy that wouldn't be considered evil? Something to consider once he got the Necromancy laws repealed. He had to survive to adulthood first.

A portal of blackened void with a glowing blue outline opened before the headstone. Drifting out was a soul, summoned to this plane by the anchor that was her grave. Though he doubted anyone else could see it, Harry could in fact see the chain that anchored her to the other side, even as the portal snapped shut with the young girl on this side.

Ariana had not changed in the slightest since she had died. She was still a slender fourteen year old girl with long brown hair that came down to her waist. The only thing different was instead of a body to inhabit, she was a slightly corporeal spirit. She still could be seen through, and passed through.

And she had a serene smile on her face. "Hello Albus, Hello Aberforth." She said. "You've both aged so much."

Both men looked stunned and Harry stepped away a moment, leaning against a tree within the graveyard. He wanted to give the men their moment with their sister. Give them their closure. He stayed within earshot, he was curious as well as to what happened. Newspapers from back then could only give so much really.

"Ariana…" Aberforth spoke, stepping forward. His voice cracked and no doubt tears threatened to spill into his beard. "I'm… I'm so sorry." He sobbed out.

Ariana gave a patient smile and shook her head. "There's nothing to forgive Abe." She said, floating towards him. She knew she couldn't touch him. "Brothers fight and argue, I was never angry with either of you. You both did what you thought was right."

Albus stepped forward slowly, shuffling along really. "It's… It's my fault. I'm so sorry Ari. I should have… I should have thought- "

Again she gave that patient smile. The dead, especially someone like Ariana who had been dead for near a hundred years, had time to come to terms with things. And Ariana must not consider either men her murderer. Briefly, Harry wondered what would have happened had he brought Gellert Grindelwald. Would that patient smile turn vicious? Would she screech and scream and curse his existence?

"Al, you were always destined for great things. But Gellert always filled your head with things beyond you." She said. "Pity he's not here, I did like him. He always brought me sweets whenever he came over."

Albus swallowed heavily, tears streaming from his face and into his beard. He had to ask the difficult question. He had to unburden both himself and his brother. "Ari… who… Who-" He choked on a sob. How could he ask her who killed her?

Ariana glanced away from her brothers and looked over to Harry. "Pale One, can I ask a question?" she asked.

Harry inclined his head. "Yes my Lady?" He asked as he stepped forward.

"How must I answer?" she asked.

Harry glanced to her a moment and then to her brothers. "It must be the truth." Harry said. "Completely, utterly. There cannot be wiggle room in what you say. You may omit details, but what you do say must be concretely the truth."

Ariana nodded and turned to her brothers. "Gellert did not cast the spell that struck me down." She told. Both brothers sobbed, and Albus' knees buckled. "But it is not either of your fault. Gellert threw up the shield the spell bounced from. I won't tell you who cast the spell, but I do not blame any of you. I was scared and most certainly not in my right mind." Ariana said. "I should not have been anywhere near that fight, but Gellert was seemingly attacking my brothers."

Ariana then looked to Aberforth. "And shame on you, Abe." She tapped his nose with an ethereal finger. "Breaking Al's nose at my funeral. Shame on you." Her tone was scolding but light.

Harry barked out a rattling laughter as he stepped forward. "I think it is time that you returned Ariana. I doubt your brothers have any more questions."

Ariana nodded and turned to look at her brothers. "Live. Both of you. Mum and Da don't want you coming to the other side for a while yet. No suicide, you both had better live and Albus you had better visit Gellert more often. Terrible things he may have done, but he was still your friend. You had better go visit him in that horrid prison."

Albus nodded swallowing the sob that threatened to consume him. "I will." He promised.

Ariana looked to Aberforth who nodded. She then moved over to Harry and hugged him tightly. "Thank you." She said.

Harry was unsurprised that she could touch him and feel solid. He wrapped an arm around her slender form and nodded. "You're welcome." He said softly. "Now come my Lady, it's time to send you back to your rest." He slipped his arm around hers and escorted her back to the grave.

The portal opened back up and she drifted through with a wave behind her.

Harry removed the Harvester from the ground and looped it around the Dominion Gauntlet. He looked to the Dumbledore brothers a moment before he stalked away towards Despair on the side of the cemetery.

Closure was had, even if it was painful. But sometimes, to heal an old wound properly, it had to be cut open again.

-End Chapter-

A/N: Crap guys, I'm so sorry about how late this chapter is. I'm going to try and update on a more regular basis, but I make no promises. We don't have many chapters left of Book 2, so I'm hoping I can rush through them in the coming weeks.