* * * Ominous Efforts * * *
Both wizards automatically take a wary step back at his approach, but then relax a bit with relief when he simply says: "I'll try," and attempts to put his hand through the potion as they had both done previously.
It is a good idea, Dumbledore admits with cautious optimism; truly a gesture as surprising as it is welcome. Perhaps the hand of an undead being would be able to have a different outcome? However, the progress of the vampire's hand is thwarted just as much as theirs had been… causing Edward's eyebrow to rise with shocked unease at the discovery. That must not be something he's used to, Albus assesses. In the muggle world he must be rather unstoppable… yet, magic isn't necessarily like that. I… thank you… for the attempt, Albus belatedly thought-directs with impressed sincerity.
Behind the scenes, the wizards haven't imagined that any effort from Bella would be able to result in any outcome different from their own, and Edward is happy to let that thought lie. On the off chance that her strange mental immunity could cause her to be able to come into contact with the noxious poison, were she to give it a try – potentially resulting in all manner of untreatably life-threatening emergencies in this horrid place – it is not even something that he can consider.
Of course, by the same token – he also couldn't consider consuming the potion in the old wizard's place. Even if they do have established reason to believe that no directed spells would work against his skin, already it is clear that some magical effects do have sway upon him: their summoning in the first place, the pensieve force-field, and the thought bombardment situation for starters. It would be the height of foolishness to assume that such a potion couldn't have an effect… and something sure to be deleterious to the drinker (and thus all the more danger-inducing in his case) would not be the way to test out whether or not it did. Bella needs him, to get out of here. Neither, does he want to give her any ideas. Alright. So… what else haven't they tried or thought of yet?
Shifting his focus onto to the underside of the pensieve as the rest of them watch on with cautious curiosity, Edward places Bella's hand solidly against his neck and stoops to place both of his own on either side of the thick pedestal base… only to cleanly break the stone structure in two as if it were no more difficult than breaking a matchstick in half would have been. The resulting loud crack reverberates powerfully throughout the cavern, and an audible gulp from Harry betrays the young wizard's nervousness. Promptly, Edward tips the basin-dominated shape off to the side in an effort to pour out its contents onto an unoccupied section of the floor.
Nothing happens. The potion, and that which it protects, is not affected by gravity.
With a frown, Edward rests the shortened basin pedestal upright against its taller broken counterpart and takes hold of the pensieve edges at opposite ends. Twisting his hands slightly, in a move much like what broke the pedestal off of its base just moments before, he is startled to find that it doesn't even crack. Subsequent efforts, which look to everyone else like no more than gentle handling gestures performed along the side of the bowl, illustrate to him that it won't be crushed, torn, or otherwise broken apart. "It won't break," he admits in awe, alarmed.
In response to this admission, both wizards' thoughts reflexively touch upon the existence of a magical charm that can be used to render an object unbreakable. Clearly, the end result remains effective even when pitted against strength such as his. That's a truly disconcerting thought, Edward worries silently, his mind racing alongside theirs through various harrowing possibilities …if not also considerably alarming. Just the very potential that an unbreakable object could ever be created to contain and thereby control a vampire – is frightening! Thankfully, Albus also recognizes that this particular effect is in fact accomplished via a spell which gets exponentially more difficult to cast upon larger and larger items; thus why only the bowl is charmed.
Unsettled by this failure, and its resultant revelation, Edward rises back to full height and exhales loudly, immediately covering her hand on his neck with his own. Surprisingly, Bella snorts in strained amusement beside him, the action barely concealing a hysterical undercurrent of emotion within her. "You know – I could have imagined Emmett thinking that something like that could have been accomplished using no more than brute strength, but not you. It's so – so cave-man-like. I think you've been around him for too long."
Through his distress, Edward smiles slightly at her facetious attempt, briefly reveling in the melody of her voice, then shrugs tensely. "It was worth a try. You know – every once in a while it does come in handy; he might not have thought to guard against it," Edward nods toward the pensieve, indicating his silent tormentor. "No doubt Emmett would have tried doing that first thing." He chuckles once, though the sound is strained.
Bella nods, troubled. "You must be out of ideas, then," she surmises worriedly. It's obvious that she desperately wishes that she could come up with some bright idea to offer.
Edward grimaces, then winces involuntarily. "Yes…" he begins, abruptly cutting off as the topic of Emmett's thought processes brings up another possibility. He'd have likely been much more creative about the effort, as well. (The image of him energetically throwing the pensieve around like a frisbee comes to mind, as his brother endeavored to shatter it upon impact.) Indeed, whenever there aren't more important considerations keeping him from having his way (which is most of the time) – he is much more likely to playfully go through a river… or mountain… or other obstacle, rather than over it.
"Unless…" Edward wonders: Can it be pierced? "Maybe I could try burrowing into the basin from the bottom… through its breakable base. Possibly that could be a weak point – more moldable than the rest, at least; there's no telling where one stops and the other begins," he observes. The wizards are highly skeptical that this would work, however. "Maybe I could drill out a hole so the object would fall out?" Though the idea intrigues them, there is no change in their belief that it would be ineffective. "Or perhaps a high-speed missile would pierce through rather than shatter against it?" Both wizards' thoughts are still very skeptical. "Or, if that wouldn't work… a giant stone straw fashioned from its pedestal and large enough to accommodate an arm, end pierced through only at the last minute, might could allow us to bypass the force-field and contents to reach underneath the potion in order to retrieve what it protects?" Neither of the wizards can say for sure about this one, causing him to conclude that: It's worth a try. "Those are the type of things Emmett might have tried next."
As his aching eyes meet hers, the new idea has him feeling marginally hopeful. "You're a genius," he teases optimistically, encouraging further conversation.
"As if," she counters. "It's not as if I thought of it."
Stooping down again, this time to break the tall pedestal stand away from the floor, Edward subsequently balances the long cylinder in one hand, while he begins to crush and bore his way through it with the other – creating a closed hollow tube much the shape of a very fat pencil. "Well, you certainly know your vampires better than any sane human should," he grumbles reluctantly, somewhat awkwardly continuing the flow of conversation. Inevitably, in the process of struggling just to function underneath such an unrelenting mental attack, impatient frustration for her safety would be what emotion evaded his control.
Surprised by direction and boldness of his comment, having not really known to what extent their companions were aware, and also concerned about how hard all this is really being for him – Bella retorts by challenging him in kind. At least by doing so, she can help to show the others how much they truly don't need to be afraid. Coyly kneeling down behind him so that she can put an arm around his waist and rest her chin upon his shoulder without ever letting go, she asks seriously: "Does that bother you?" She plants a kiss against his neck.
"Hmph," he turns his head to smile at her, grimly amused, even as he continues hollowing out the tube. "Now if that isn't a trick question, I don't know what is. But you know I can't complain."
"Mmhmm," she hums.
Presently, he inserts the straw, tapered end down, into the pensieve lying at their feet. Though it pierces the contents easily, audibly scraping on the strangely stationary object at the bottom, very quickly it becomes clear that this new effort is also not going to work. Before he even has a chance to punch out the final hole in the end of the tube, the thoughts of the basin swirl untainted right through the stone shape, as if it were not there… and the wizards' recollections make it clear that to touch these would be to only immerse in them for viewing. It's how a pensieve works. Evident force-field or not, there still is going to be no reaching the horcrux – without clearing them away first.
Edward is frustrated. From the myriad of thoughts he's been recently privy to, it's easy to appreciate why it's so important to be rid of this immortalized wizard Voldemort… as well as understand how retrieval of this illusive horcrux is an inescapable part of that effort. Still, no one of them wants to see the kindly headmaster have to drink himself into madness because of it! Edward knows the reality of that pain better than anyone, having already seen and felt the horrendously torturous scenario played out over and over within so many of the pensieve memories. Obviously, however, the potion was meant to be consumed.
Finally locking eyes with the forbearing headmaster as he stands once again, automatically reclaiming Bella's hand into his own as he does so, Edward's expression is full of distress and apology. "I'm sorry," he vocalizes softly, and his words carry a weight of knowledge that tells the elder wizard that he knows exactly what it's going to do to him. But also, in full awareness of what Albus has asked of Harry, and why, neither is he going to interfere with it.
Dumbledore is touched. Surely he must be no more than a delicious stranger to this formidable pale white being… and yet – he is being extended a respect the likes of which many humans have difficulty achieving. Of course, there could be other, much-less-commendable motivations behind the action; it is what he originally would have expected. But… looking keenly back into the vampire's black eyes now, however… he sees some things he never would have guessed to find there. Compassion? Sadness? Maybe even a friend. His sincerity is genuine.
Clearly, Albus notes with awe, there is more to him than meets the eye. He hadn't been able to determine, at first, how to interpret Edward's inexplicable desire to keep Bella protected until they could safely exit. But now, it's unmistakable: he truly cares for her. That's no insignificant matter. Undeniably, she has trusted him all along – much more than we have –and his actions in this vein have spoken louder than words ever could. The grandwizard's eyes are drawn to linger marvelingly upon Edward's jacket newly placed upon her shoulders. Indeed, he has treated all of us with the very same respect – from the very beginning – though it is mind-boggling that he should do so.
I don't believe he wants to hurt us! Dumbledore suddenly realizes with incalculable gratefulness and wonder: not just now, but… ever. How that can be, when his very nature demands otherwise, I have yet to figure out – but I am supremely glad for it! That fact alone may be sufficient to ensure our safety from him in the long term… so long as we can keep from triggering his deadly instincts.
Enlivened by this discovery, and full of gratitude for Edward's efforts on their behalf, the headmaster's thoughts swirl with appreciation and honor… ultimately culminating in a desperately profound trust of his own. Keep Harry safe, pleeease…
Nodding at the venerable wizard with respectful regret, Edward reluctantly steps back with a desperately wide-eyed and torturously worried Bella, to their previous position.
Without further delay, and to Bella's growing horror as she listens in, the wizards' earlier conversation urgently resumes… Dumbledore now focused solely on securing the cooperation of a truly frantic Harry… until finally, unwillingly, the assurance is given – and the old professor takes his first drink.
A/N: Thanks for reading and sharing!