The Debate
Summary
Fate intervenes in the Graveyard. The epic test of wills between Tom and Harry shifts from wands to words.
Ships – Age appropriate harmony.
Book compliance – The story begins during June of 1995. With the exception of Harry dating Hermione in this tale, events up to the third task scene are as they were.
Please note – The story has been written before posting.
Disclaimer - JKR's sandbox, not mine. I'm having a blast pushing some of the piles around a bit and rearranging them. I'm beyond grateful that anyone would spend their time reading my twisted thoughts.
Wizarding etiquette – This and most fanfiction stories are written strictly on a hobby basis. I make no claim that these chapters are error free. We're volunteering our time for your enjoyment. We write chapters, you leave thank you notes – an easy exchange.
Please note: This story is an equal collaboration with one of my favorite storytellers, Vashon Beader. I've written stories with a handful of different people over the years and would truly encourage any storyteller thinking of embarking on a new tale to consider it.
… - …
Chapter One
The Debate
Saturday June 24, 1995
An hour before the start of the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry downed the vial of wit sharpening potion that Hermione had just given him. She remarked, "It's not against the rules and it may save your life."
"Thanks. How long does it last?"
"It should be effective for the next three or four hours. I expect you to be back long before then."
"I'll do my best to not disappoint you. Taking a risk, he leaned over and gave her a kiss.
She liked it. She kissed him back and whispered something in his ear. Harry definitely felt that he had someone to come back to.
The canon blast sounded, indicating the ten-minute warning. Hermione kissed Harry again and they parted to go where they each needed to be. Fudge asked each of the champions if they were ready. They nodded grimly. He blew the whistle.
… - …
Being the Champion with the most points after the first two tasks, Harry was first to enter the maze. He clearly recalled when they had first been brought to it, just after the second task. The hedge plants were barely a foot tall at the time. He recalled that there were two paths which would lead to the north end, where the cup had supposedly been placed. He began walking. Straight, turn right, turn right, straight, straight, turn left, turn left, straight, turn right. Off in the distance, he heard the whistle indicating that the second Champion had entered.
He came to a Sphinx. The beautiful but deadly being calmly stated, "The cup is not far. I'll give you a riddle. If you guess it correctly, I'll let you pass. If you guess it wrong, I'm forced to attack. You can also hear it and walk away if you choose."
Harry replied, "I'd like to hear it, please."
She gave him the riddle. It seemed obvious. He thought for a minute, thinking of possible alternatives and found none. Finally, he said, "Spider."
"Very good. You may pass and I wish you luck for the remainder of the evening."
Harry walked along for another fifty feet when he saw an Acromantula standing by the cup. He drew his wand and said, "Wingardium Leviosa." He levitated the black bear sized spider up and out of the maze and let it fall outside the outer edge. Harry had no way of knowing that it had fallen on top of a man pretending to be Alastor Moody.
Just as he was reaching for the cup, the whistle blew to let the third Champion in. When he grabbed hold of the cup, he felt a jerk behind his navel and was transported to a graveyard in Wales. Something on the ground caught his eye. A ten-foot-long cobra was slithering his way towards him. Harry cast a sweeping, "Diffindo." that cut through the snake a foot behind its head.
"Noooooo," cried the ugliest toddler that Harry had ever seen or imagined. He was so distracted by the abomination of a child that he didn't notice the rat sneak up behind him, who soundlessly reverted into Peter Pettigrew and whispered, "Stupefy."
… - ...
As Harry slowly began to awaken from Pettigrew's stunner, he heard the words, "Blood forcibly taken, you shall make your master anew."
Another few minutes passed until Harry saw a hand grip the side of the cauldron and a... for lack of a better term, a man stood. He was tall but didn't seem to weigh more than 100 pounds. He/it had slits for eyes, the tiniest of ears, the ugliest nose that Harry had ever seen and appeared to be hairless. It commanded, "Robe me." After it had managed to put on a black robe, he hissed, "Give me my wand, Wormtail."
Within a minute or two, Riddle had fired a torture curse at Harry and had summoned his so-called followers. These so-called community leaders were kissing the hem of Riddle's robe to Harry's silent amusement. Riddle called each of the followers by name and told them his version of the time since he's last seen them, praising some and cruelly torturing a few others.
… - ...
"You've been taught to duel, Harry Potter?"
"Yes; are you going to cheat? Any rules, or is this just a street fight?"
"The first one dead loses."
"Not to nitpick Mr. Riddle but didn't you already die? When I defeated you in 1991, you were just vapor. When I killed one of your images in 1992; the one that was in that diary that Lucius Malfoy gave to a little girl as a sick prank, didn't that count? Your 16-year-old self was way better looking than you."
"Avada Kedavra." Harry didn't even flinch, He could see that Riddle's wand was pointing 90 degrees to his right. Lucius Malfoy was no more.
What he did notice was that Riddle was quick. He was also accurate. He had also just gone through what had been, by any measure, a major transformation. Harry silently questioned how much stamina he might have.
"Wormtail, give him his wand."
"I'll get it. He looks like he's got his hand full right now." Harry took a couple of steps past his wand, turned and in a sweeping move grabbed it as he dodged a jet of green light that had flown by where he'd been standing only a moment before. Harry cast a sweeping Diffindo that wasn't aimed at Riddle so much as Mr and Mrs. Nott, who were standing behind him and to the left. While a competent healer might be able to reattach their lower legs, they wouldn't be out dancing anytime soon. Riddle cast the killing curse again; not at Harry, rather in the direction that he'd dodged the last time. Harry ran back the other way; casting the cutting curse as he went and hit the Carrows. Riddle cast again, this time right at Harry. He took a step to the right and Riddle's spell hit Avery.
Harry decided that he might get lucky one more time and moved four steps to his left. He was in front of Jugson, while Mulciber was behind Riddle. Tom cast another killing curse, chest high. Harry ducked and sliced Riddle's left arm off before he could dodge. Riddle's spell hit Jugson. Tom immediately cast another killing curse as Harry cast "Expelliarmus."
The spells connected.
An amazing light show occurred. The sparks that came off of the connected beams formed a half sphere around them. There was a sort of song which Harry recognized as phoenix sound, similar to what he'd heard down in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry welcomed the song and tried even harder to force the light back into Riddle's wand.
… - …
Though Harry didn't know it, he'd been right about Riddle being low on energy. They were locked in what clearly was a mano y mano duel. Naturally, Riddle decided to cheat. As Harry had a sliver of Riddle's soul in his head, when Riddle started drawing on the magical energy of his marked followers, to the effect that both Tom and Harry were feeling refreshed and slightly stronger.
Their wands remained locked.
… - …
In Azkaban, Bellatrix shrieked in agony. Less than an hour ago, her Dark Mark had turned jet black, indicating that her Master had returned. Now she could feel her magic slowly being drawn away. She was powerless to stop it.
Down the corridor, she could hear the cries from his other marked followers.
… - ...
Back in the graveyard, their wands remained locked. The center of the beam would drift back and forth a few feet closer to Harry, then a few feet closer to Riddle. The minutes went by.
Their wands remained locked.
… - …
At Hogwarts, Severus Snape had also felt the Dark Mark go jet black. He could feel his magic leech from his body but, like Bella and the others, was powerless to stop it. Igor Karkarov had been nearby in the Durmstrang ship, preparing to sail away to escape. The pain was indescribable. In reality, so much of their magic had been drawn away that, at that instant, they would have trouble casting second year spells.
… - …
Their wands remained locked.
As the minutes passed, Riddle was mentally panicking, Behind Potter, he could see Narcissa Malfoy and several others collapse. Remarkably, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be unaffected. He could only conclude that the magic that he was drawing from his magically strongest followers hadn't reached down to their meager level yet.
He yelled, "Crabbe, get him." As he had allowed his attention to waver for a moment, the center of the beam went way closer to his wand, Now it was just inches from the front of his wand. Tom pushed with all of his might, drawing even farther on his followers as the connection point moved a few feet in Harry's direction.
… - …
Rookwood and Bellatrix were the first to completely lose their magic. Though they were hundreds of miles away, they shrieked the same wounded, mournful, howling in pain shriek.
Snape and Avery were next. After two minutes of howling, they were silent.
In Azkaban, the Lestrange brothers were next.
In Auror Headquarters, several of the Aurors who hadn't dared leave the building doubled over, clutching their arms, crying out in pain.
… - …
"Get Him." All 375 pounds of the elder Crabbe began moving, as he initially lumbered, then built up momentum and charged at the golden light sphere. It crackled, popped and gave off a strong ozone smell as the elder Crabbe was vaporized for his effort.
Goyle was shocked as he saw his lifelong friend sizzle and vanish.
… - …
In the heavens, Fate was watching with increasing frustration and anger. What initially was to be a test of wills with the boy retreating and living to fight another day had now taken the magic from 55 people and would be taking their lives in another minute.
He took action.
… - …
The sphere took a majestic purple color and a voice commanded, "Stop." There was no denying the will of the voice. The beam between Riddle and Harry ceased to exist.
"Toss your wands in front of you." It wasn't a request.
They did.
The image of a face appeared at the top of the sphere. The people outside could neither hear nor see what was happening. They were on the ground, magic-less, with horrible chest pains and felt as if they were taking their very last breaths. Some already had; the rest had only minutes remaining to reflect on their lives.
… - …
Inside the sphere, Fate's voice spoke. "I gave your ancestors the gift of magic 8,000 years ago, as you measure time. For the most part, my gift has either been misused or used for trivial purposes. There is no point in turning a desk into a pig." Harry chuckled at the image of McGonagall doing just that.
"Mr Riddle, you seem to be espousing the view that the magic that you were born with somehow places you above or separate from the ordinary human populace and that magic should be kept within that society and that the magical society be properly ordered. Is that correct?"
Riddle replied, "That's correct." Even he didn't have the level of arrogance needed to attempt to correct Fate as to his self-chosen name.
"Mr Potter, you seem to be fighting to protect the belief that magic is purely a gift and rather than being kept in families, it should be randomly gifted based on some sort of criteria such as childhood virtue, intelligence, or some act of good deed. Is that correct?" Harry nodded.
Fate stated, "Both viewpoints have their merits. One at a time, I'll give you five minutes to plead your case. You won't hear the other person's argument and whoever goes last won't have longer to prepare. Whoever makes the best points shall have the world ordered in accordance with their points. The other shall have to accept the changes, or immediately go to the afterlife at the end of the debate. I'll give you each ten minutes to prepare. Do you agree to my terms?"
Harry looked at Riddle and the image of Fate. He was pretty certain that he'd have won the duel if they hadn't been interrupted but Fate's words sounded far more like a work direction than an offer.
Riddle was having the same thoughts except he realized that his test of wills with the boy had cost each of his followers their magic and nearly cost him his life, as he was about to draw on his remaining soul anchors for additional strength. Years back, he had been an eloquent speaker as he'd made his case to those who had more political power and wealth than he'd had.
He said, "Fate, I agree to your terms."
Harry asked, "Mr. Fate, what happens if I don't agree?"
Fate said, "You'll continue as you were. My expectation is that you'll both continue for another five minutes, during which time, all of Tom Riddle's followers will have lost their lives. Tom will draw on his remaining soul anchors and he'll collapse and die a few minutes later. You'll go back to your school and most likely be blamed for the loss of the lives of each of Tom Riddle's followers. Almost no one will believe your story. You'd be tried and most likely lose. You'd possibly occupy the same cell that Sirius Black spent years in. Being young and in good health, you'd likely spend 85 years in that cell."
Harry didn't think that sounded like a good idea. He said, "I accept your terms."
Fate replied, "You each have ten minutes to think of your oral arguments." A pen and a pad of paper appeared in front of each of them, along with a desk and a chair, to allow them to jot down their ideas.
… - …
Tom knew how to manipulate people very well. After all, he couldn't have gone from being considered a mudblood in Slytherin to the Dark Lord with many wealthy followers who gladly shared that wealth if he didn't know how to charm people.
This was going to be the argument of his life!
Starting with the false modesty tact, he began, "Mr Fate, I don't know if you know about my sad tale. I was dumped into a muggle orphanage, and denied contact with the Wizarding world until my eleventh birthday. Can you imagine that? I truly knew deep in my heart that I had a great destiny, even as a child who was raised in poverty and constant lack of even the basic necessities of life.
"I was ostracized from a young age because of being abnormal or in the worst cases, possessed by evil spirits.
"More than once I was deprived of the modest dinner available, chastised and even beaten for doing accidental magic.
"What could my life have been like if I had been raised in Magical Society? What difference would my childhood have been, knowing that I myself was the descendant of the great Salazar Slytherin.
"Say what you will for or against him, but he was a great wizard."
Tom paced and gesticulated during this emotional tale of woe.
"If I'd been rescued the first time I had done accidental magic, I would have been given several essential things. I would have found acceptance and even love for what I was, rather than being rejected for what I was.
"I want this acceptance, this placement for every magical child, regardless of the callous and cruel parents that a magical child can be given by chance.
"Muggles will never accept us for who we are. What would your reaction be, sir, for meeting a being more powerful than yourself? The muggle reaction to all wizarding kind is fear! Rejection and lashing out are only to be expected. It's not their fault. They are not deliberately being cruel.
"What needs to happen is to remove all magical beings from the muggle world. They are different. As different from muggles to apes, we are above them, and should never allow our precious children to be hurt by the unwitting and unconscious reactions of lesser beings! How many of our precious younglings have been even killed before they were old enough to even defend themselves from these people?
"We have a greater destiny! We have been blessed by Mother Magic and owe a debt to said magic to keep it safe within our society as a whole. How much higher can our children and grandchildren attain who are blessed with safe places to learn from a young age about magic. About our history. Who are given a solid foundation for such learning at their father's and grandfather's and even great-grandfather's knees.
"We who safeguard magic owe it to magic to grow our knowledge and expand magic's reach to achieve our best; our highest selves.
"How can this achievement be even started in the face of the discrimination and prejudice that we face in the world today?
"For example, we have the Great Dumbledore, a hypocrite of the highest order, claiming that it is wrong to practice Dark Magic! How ridiculous is that argument?
"Magic is magic; power is power. To deny the explorations into the field of Dark Magic is cutting off one half of our rich and varied potential.
"In England, in fact in all of Great Britain, we have a magical net that can be used to spot accidental magic in muggle neighborhoods. How better to use this powerful resource in order to detect and rescue these sad, sad children from their miserable, ah hem, to please excuse the phrase, fate.
"How much better for them, for magical society, and even for the few childless families to adopt these magical orphans? They might have parents, but how can muggle parents really, truly care for these young people? The children are extremely disadvantaged all their lives. Even when young, these people cannot practice their magic at home as they should because of the very logical restrictions against it.
"Better that they have supervision in a magical home, private tutors if needed for any weak areas, or even better, private tutors to help a prodigy achieve their best. These children would never have such opportunities in the muggle world.
"Magic is so very precious. It should be nurtured and allowed to flourish in a magical setting.
"We currently have only one magical village in all of Great Britain. How much better it would be to have such villages scattered throughout the Islands. Perhaps even taking over one of the smaller ones and warding it against muggles."
Fate asked, "Mr Riddle, this sounds quite Utopian. To be honest, it is very different from the war that you waged in the past where you were using terrorist techniques to keep everyday wizards in line with your goals, and killing those who stood against you. Your actions don't match your words."
"I regretted every drop of magical blood shed in the previous engagements. You see,I had been forced by circumstances to take up arms against a repressionist regime who, like
Dumbledore, wanted to leave the door open to muggle aggression, muggle oppression, and muggle incursion.
"I grew up, unable to get away from the muggle war that raged all around us. Bombs dropping from muggle weapons! More than once, we went hungry and frightened for days when we couldn't dare light a candle.
"Dumbledore was very aware of my circumstances, and wouldn't allow an orphan sanctuary in Hogwarts if only during the summer. How much safer I and others like me would have been. How much better taken cared for.
"I truly detest the violence that I am forced to wield to fight against this tyranny. However, if You can hear my pleas, you have the power to set this right. You, Mr Fate, have it in your hands to set forth the greatest magical society, a Renaissance Age unlike anything that has been ever achieved."
The Dark Lord paced, and went to one knee, just as one of his followers would do so to him.
"I beg you, Mr Fate. Do not allow our Magic to die! Dumbledore and his minions like Harry Potter would destroy half of magic to begin with, and have an open door to the muggle world. We know from experience that this can only lead to death, destruction, and despair."
Tom Marvolo Riddle bowed his head, and waited for Fate's response.
… - ...
After Fate had placed Riddle in a temporary stasis, he invited Harry to speak. The teen began, "As you mentioned, you originally gave us the ability to recognize and wield magics. It was a gift. Those of us who are new to magic, recognize the wonder of what we'd been handed. For most newbloods, that sense of wonder never goes away. We're thankful every day for what we've been gifted.
"People aren't born knowing how to wield magic, anymore than one is born knowing how to pilot a jetliner. Both take years to learn. There are schools and institutions that contain and maintain that accumulated knowledge. I didn't learn magic from my parents. I'm going to school to learn what I can and hope to spend the rest of my life using what I've learned in productive ways.
"Some of the people within the so-called magical society view themselves as being in a world separate from the rest of the world. For the most part, it's insular, inefficient and utterly stuck in the past. Too much of the thinking is focused on preserving the past and heritage; remembering what was, rather than thinking about living in the future and envisioning what might be and how to create it. My point is, I believe that it's the so-called magical society rather than the actual possession of magic that has rotted.
"Mr. Fate, it's my speculation that you originally gifted people magic in order to make the world a better place. If that's true, people need to be taught that directive in school, remember it, abide by whatever rules are deemed necessary and live by them. I think they should become something like knights and practice quietly serving society without expectation of any reward, rather than scheming over how to rule it for any perceived greater good. Transfiguring ocean water into drinkable water isn't difficult, yet there are deserts in far too many places. If people deemed that the existence of magic still needs to be kept secret from the general population, somebody could sit in a little room in a pumping plant and clean the water before it was pumped to people who need it. I'm not saying that they need to give it away; everyone needs to earn a living but they can do it and charge a fair price for it, rather than set themselves up as some type of warlord. I expect those were the sort of things that you had in mind when you gifted us the use of magic; as a gift, not a right.
"There are big differences between not telling someone how something is done and hiding it completely from them. I personally don't know how a car is assembled or how electricity is generated but I like having a bright room at night, watching television or riding in an automobile. We have the knowledge of how to fix bone breaks in seconds, clean clogged blood vessels, remove cancers and the like. Yet the current leaders allow people to suffer needlessly holding their single-minded focus on secrecy.. Most of the healings could be obscured under the umbrella of being an herbal remedy. Healers know that they can fix those things; inbred magical society tells them not to.
"Mr. fate, I believe that sort of philosophy is wrong. I believe that a change in who and how people receive magic can make those improvements happen. Individual people still have the right to choose how to live their lives; to be good and just people, or to become career criminals. You probably have better things to do than listen to some kid. If you decide to make magic a randomly gifted occurrence, I'll do what I can to make the world a better place. It won't happen overnight. It might take a few generations for the arrogance to die off. If you decide that Riddle's ideas are better, then I thank you for at least hearing me out. If you decide that the experiment has been a failure and no one else should gifted, or born with magic, than I guess that people got what they deserved. If you decide to leave it as it is, then I'll gladly do what I can to finish off Riddle. He's murdered a thousand people; most of them for sport or entertainment. His so-called followers aren't any better. If I get caught and prosecuted as you suggested, then I suppose that it was my choice to take action and my bad luck for getting caught."
Fate asked, "If it were your choice, and people weren't born with it, when would a person be gifted their magic?"
Harry thought about his friend Ron, who, having grown up magical his whole life, never had the opportunity to learn about the rest of the world. Worse, even knowing of it, he chose to ignore it and frequently belittled Hermione's parents in front of her. His dad did too; treating them like they were some sort of pets. He replied, "As it stands now, if magical people aren't completely focused on killing one another, they live longer than nonmagical people by about half. I think they should live normally a bit first, grow up as regular people and instead of going to collage, they would get tapped with the offer to go to magical school instead. They could choose to marry a magical person but there would be no more than a 50-50 chance that their kids would also receive the gift when they turn twenty. Since the parents wouldn't know until their children were twenty, they wouldn't automatically toss them away as infants, or toss them out of a window to see if they would bounce. Half of the wizarding population would be new bloods. That way, those with magic couldn't ignore the new people who'd been gifted magic or the rest of the world."
Fate asked, "If it were up to you, would nonmagicals learn about the existence of magic?"
Harry replied, "It's something of an assumption to believe that they currently don't know about it. Two hundred years ago, there weren't the closed circuit cameras on most street corners like there are now. I expect there weren't as many people either. Most magicals probably lived in rural areas or villages; they could apparate from one place to another without much chance of getting caught. Today, magicals need to be a lot more careful about that sort of stuff. I've seen them be ridiculously careless about it; mostly because they never learned about nonmagical society or paid it any attention. People don't need to dress like Friar Tuck to be magical and do positive work for society. It shouldn't matter what country people live in, or who they voted for. I don't think that people are born as arrogant snobs but by fifteen, their basic outlook has been formed.
"As for who knows today, I'd believe that small groups within the different governments already know. I'm not certain what they're doing with the information. On a general basis, they're probably providing disinformation, like with UFOs. Fifty years from now, governments may possess the technology to instantly tell if someone has magic; it's hard to say."
… - …
Fate summarized, "So you're suggesting that individuals be offered magic on some sort of individual, voluntary basis and given the direction that they use it to improve life for their neighborhood. You're not that a handful of magicals become the rulers or the world; instead, prior to them receiving their magic, they're asked to vow to individually accept some sort of protect and serve, or other helpful role. You want people who become healers to do what they can to heal anyone, not just the other few who happen to possess magic. You want people to be given the final choice to accept or reject the life of servitude via a series of vivid dreams when they're twenty. Is that what you had in mind?"
Harry replied, "I think so."
Fate asked, "Why wouldn't you and your friends just make the decision to do what you collectively could do to improve the world that you currently live in? You could accept the calling and become leaders in your society, the next generation of educators and the like. Those who aren't cut out to perform vascular surgery could at least use a bit of magic and choose to repair and clean up the sewer system here in Britain. A 300 tonne fatberg exists in London and no one thought to do vanishing spells for an hour and a few dozen scourgifies? What's wrong with that?"
He continued, "You perform that task, Harry Potter and I'll think about what you told me. Throw in a few dozen good repair charms while you're at it."
"Mr Fate, I don't know how to apparate to get there."
Fate flicked his finger and said, "You now know how to apparate to anywhere in the world, Harry Potter."
Harry asked, "Can I bring my friend Hermione with me?"
Fate asked, "Do you really want to take your girlfriend into a sewer for your first date?"
"No. I suppose not. When should I go?"
"There's no time like the present. Come back here when you're done." He gave Harry the address and sent him on his way.
… - …
As Harry closed the door and stepped into the three-foot deep river of raw sewage, the smell was utterly overpowering. Harry, who had finally mastered the bubble head charm a month after the second task, happily applied it. Fate had armed him with a headlamp, a plastic suit and a map. Deep down, he was certain that the worst of the mess had come from his cousin. In front of him was a solid blob as long as three tractor trailers parked end-to-end. The task initially seemed insurmountable.
Two hundred vanishing spells and what seemed like a thousand repair and cleaning spells later, the underground river seemed to be flowing properly. A hundred thousand rats had also been vanished. The teen was tired. He felt that he'd spent hours walking through the waist deep river of muck and filth. He silently vowed to vanish every baby wipe or makeup remover cloth that he ever saw in a store. Apparently, people didn't realize that they don't disintegrate like toilet paper and that they form clogs. As he looked down, he saw a glint off to the side. He cast another cleaning spell and was shocked to find what looked like a gold brick. He picked it up and guessed it to weigh a bit more than 25 pounds. He cast a few more cleaning and vanishing spells, then decided to apparate back to the graveyard.
… - …
Fate was still there. He asked, "Did you solve the problem?"
Harry nodded. As he did, the hazmat suit disappeared.
Fate asked, "Are you willing to be a public servant and encourage others to do the same?"
Harry nodded.
Fate replied, "I've made my decision."
… - …
A/Ns
Thank you for reading. This isn't a long story but I thought that the concept was interesting and Vashon Beader is a fun storyteller to write with.
The next chapter makes brief reference to several tragic deaths.
… - …