- Chapter Twenty-Six -
The Beginning of the End
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny spent the next few days at the Leaky Cauldron and did not set a foot outside. The investigation into Kingsley's death was taken over entirely by Mr Weasley, and was handled by a carefully selected team of Aurors - mostly people who were closely acquainted with certain members of the Order of the Phoenix. They have been searching everywhere for the Selwyn siblings, but so far no one has come across a pair of criminals who look deceptively like Ron and Hermione.
Only three of the Nurmengard prisoner liberation squad were sent to St. Mungo's: Hagrid for a short time while he recovered from the bone fractures caused by being tossed back and forth and had some of his missing teeth regrown, while Dean and Michael Corner became residents of the Chronic Diseases Department for a longer period. They all went to visit them, and Dean received many flowers and get well cards, but the boy bitterly remarked to Ron and Harry, sitting at his bedside, that it was unnecessary as he could not see them.
Malfoy skipped the hospital, instead hiding out with a former Slytherin classmate who supposedly owed him money from his Death Eaters days, so he didn't have to stay with Harry and his friends, for which they were particularly grateful.
Strangely enough, the newspapers almost told the truth this time: the Daily Prophet reported that the Minister of Magic had been murdered by two dark sorcerers who had gotten close to him by using a modified Polyjuice Potion to take on the appearance of two celebrities. The only thing that was kept from the public was what Kingsley Shacklebolt was doing in the Leaky Cauldron and the role of the DA in it.
Neither the Daily Prophet nor the foreign press wrote a word about the events at Nurmengard, the destruction there or the prison riot, and, as planned by the Nameless, almost nothing leaked out about the "exchange" of ministers - much to Harry's chagrin.
Even days after the events, Ron assured his friends that they would definitely notice something, that family members of the ministers or staff would notice the difference, but Harry reminded him of the Selwyn siblings fooling him for months, and Hermione argued that if anyone noticed anything, they could easily silence that person with an Imperius curse.
'But what if an Auror notices something?' Ron kept being stubborn. 'They'll keep their eyes open, especially if we start spreading the word! Someone will believe us!'
Harry smiled. He knew why Ron was talking like that: he was clinging to a glimmer of hope that might help them. It had been that way many times - just like Hermione's unrelenting realism would crushed his optimism.
'Ron, it's not that simple,' she sighed. 'First of all, if one of the Aurors were to notice something, they wouldn't go after their Minister publicly, they'd start an investigation, and I'm sure the Nameless would be waiting for them at the end of it... And secondly, I don't think it's a good idea to go public with what happened in Nurmengard.'
'What?' Ron was surprised. 'You can't be serious! But he's...'
'We have no evidence, Ron!' Hermione cut him off. 'As an Auror, you should get that into your head. The only thing we can do is to spread the word quietly, talking to people who trusted Dumbledore, ergo people who are likely to trust the three of us and your father.'
Ron digested what he had heard, then paced back and forth in front of them with his hands in his pockets.
'I see...' he muttered after a while. 'But how do we do it?'
That was the big question. Harry knew that without Dumbledore, it would be very difficult to organise some sort of alliance against the Fourth Tower, and from all over the world - Harry sometimes thought that this might have been a problem even for Dumbledore himself. But they could worry about that for a while for the time being.
With the Leaky Cauldron closed because of the murder, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny moved to the Shell Cottage for a short time to stay with Bill and Fleur, which Harry was very happy about. He felt that the picturesque shore, the calming roar of the sea, was a cure for his soul after the horrors he had endured. For the first time in a year, he felt he could rest a little, though he knew that this period of peace was only temporary and that he would soon have to take up his wand again.
The resting was also a chance to sort out his confused feelings. It wasn't so much the werewolf curse that worried him - sometimes he felt he'd sorted that out by telling Ginny the truth. She became pale at first at the news, but instead of bursting into tears, she hugged him and asked Harry to show her the bite. The subject never came up between them for a long time after that, but one night Harry caught Ginny buried in a set of Hogwarts textbooks, and when he asked her what she was looking for, he got a surprising answer:
'These are my old Transfiguration books. I decided to learn to become an Animagus. Lupin told me that his transformations weren't so bad when he had his friends with him, your dad and Sirius... And Pettigrew,' she added with a grin. 'By the way, Ron and Hermione are trying it as well, I spoke to them this morning.'
Harry was speechless, he just stood there in the doorway, looking at his girlfriend leaning over the books, wondering what to say. Finally, he simply ran up to her and kissed her, but with such ferocity and passion that Ginny would forget about reading any more that night...
The real problem for Harry was how to process the feelings that Fawkes had awakened in him. The phoenix's intervention made him realise how far he had strayed from the path Dumbledore had set him on. Now without a guide, a helper to lead him, he was lost. And he felt it more and more each time the bitterness of having missed dealing with the Nameless surfaced. He still wished that monster dead, but he was also determined not to do it.
No, he will not become a murderer. If he has one more chance to defeat him, it won't be with a killing curse, but in a manner worthy of Dumbledore...
He made many vows to himself as he thought over and over again what had happened. If he is to survive the ordeal ahead, he must practice, he must continue to learn from Snape's book, and not just for himself: Ron and Hermione needed to learn, too, especially as neither had waved a wand in over a year.
'Well, you could really practise!' Ginny said to them at breakfast one morning when Harry brought it up. 'You should've seen Ron yesterday evening when he was trying to summon his pyjamas. Half his wardrobe ended up on his head...'
'That was because I was yawning!' the named person defended himself in an offended tone, and Hermione giggled into her palm.
'Don't you laugh!' Harry said. 'You weren't any better in the kitchen this morning...' and with that he bit into a horribly burnt bacon.
While they were away from the outside world, events seemed to accelerate, and Harry and his friends received news mostly from the people visiting the Shell Cottage, especially from members of the Weasley family. There was also the news on a Saturday afternoon that Mr Weasley had been elected Minister for Magic by the Wizengamot.
'I never thought I'd get the chills from such news,' Ginny shook her head, then looked up at the troubled-looking man with a despairing expression. 'Dad, how could you do it? The Nameless will be looking for a way to take your place too. He will not let you to...'
'I know, Ginny, but someone had to do it.'
This did not reassure his daughter, and it seemed not even to reassure himself.
'But why you?' Ginny lamented. 'Why couldn't you say what you always say: that you insist on your Muggle gadgets? That you're only comfortable in that tiny little office, and that you found enlightenment there, or whatever...'
Mr Weasley smiled at her with fatherly goodwill and sat down on the sofa next to her.
'Ginny... Don't be childish,' he said gently, as his daughter fell into his arms. 'I had to. I'd already discussed everything with your mother. This will be for the best.' He glanced at his wife, who nodded, but Harry was not fooled: the fear was there in her eyes, the fear that Mr Weasley was now in mortal danger.
With a shaky face, Ron slammed down the Daily Prophet he'd been reading and shouted:
'The best for whom? Certainly not for you...'
'For you!' Mrs Weasley retorted with a little more anger than would've been necessary. 'As long as your father is Minister, he can protect you first hand.'
Harry and Ron stared at each other, but Mr Weasley answered their unspoken question:
'You must hide,' he said to Harry. 'That man will be looking for you. You must hide so he can't find you... and you!' He looked at Ron, Ginny and Hermione in turn.
'I will not hide!' Harry immediately declared.
'We must avenge Dean and Kingsley! We can't let them get away with it!' Ron snapped, jumping up from the couch to emphasise his point.
Mrs Weasley shook her head and gave him such a stern look that had would've made even Fred and George cringe a few years ago.
'Your lives are more important than revenge! I won't let you go off on some crazy and immature mission again! I remember what you told us on Remembrance Day... if only you'd had a skilled wizard with you...'
Now Harry was off the couch, despite Ginny's attempts to drag him back by the sleeve of his sweater.
'Those immature actions ended Voldemort's reign of terror!' Harry argued, and Ron gave that a big nod.
'That's right!'
Mrs Weasley looked back at the two boys with a reddening face.
'That does not mean that you will succeed now. You were very incredibly lucky not to die on that island! Don't keep pushing your luck, because I don't want to watch your funeral. Once was already enough!'
'But Mum...'
'NO!'
Mrs Weasley's shouting made them go silent, and she considered the debate closed. But Harry saw a tear well up in her eye before she turned away.
She's scared, terrified, and rightly so, Harry thought. Only they could stop Voldemort, no one else, and so Mrs Weasley had resigned herself to the immutable as they wandered the wilderness in search of the Horcruxes. But it was a different story now, and Harry could only imagine how the two Weasley parents must have felt when they buried the three people they thought were Ron, Hermione and Harry...
After Mr and Mrs Weasley had left, not a word was spoken between the four of them for a long time, only Ginny muttering gloomily to herself:
'I thought that after Voldemort, this kind of a state would never return.'
Harry had believed so as well, but now he knew that peace could only be a temporary state, sometimes for shorter, sometimes for longer periods. He felt like a fifteen year old teenager again, locked up at home in the safety of the house while everyone else busy at the Ministry, working night and day.
They rarely saw Bill because, like his father and siblings, he was very busy, so they spent most of their days with Fleur, helping to clean Victoire and supporting the young mother in whatever way they could. As it turned out shortly after their return home, she was pregnant again, which brought the family great joy despite all their troubles.
'Have you decided how you want to name the new baby?' Hermione asked Fleur.
'Yes, Bill and I agreed to name 'im or 'er Dominique, because it's a perfect name for a girl and a boy...'
Harry and Ron looked at each other, but neither said anything.
Despite the idleness and relaxation, they really enjoyed each other's company, even if it was just sitting on the couch on a rainy afternoon and staring out of the window - they knew they were together, and it felt good for all of them. Harry had never enjoyed getting beaten by Ron in wizard's chess five times in a row so much, he had never enjoyed listening to Hermione's detailed explanations on any subject so much, and he had never felt the smell of Ginny's hair so mesmerising when they were snuggled up against each other on the sofa.
But they also followed the day's events, read the Daily Prophet, and the Nouvelle Sorcier, a newspaper Fleur got sent from France, which was brought every noon by a dead-beat owl that would lie for hours with its wings spread beside Pigwidgeon's watering bowl.
The newspapers carried news that to the average wizard didn't say much - of course, Kingsley's murder was still considered a huge sensation and headline news - but Harry and his friends knew how to read between the lines.
'Oh this can't be true!' Ron fumed, as he picked up that afternoon's Evening Prophet after Mrs Weasley's visit and glanced at the article on the front page.
Harry and Ginny glanced up from their game of Exploding Snap, and Hermione curiously lifted her copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration fromunder her nose.
'Listen to this!' Ron started to read the article out loud, but was so outraged by it that he repeated his first comment over and over again.
The International Confederation of Wizards Summit, which ran smoothly over the weekend, has opened up a whole new direction for magical relations. As Benedetto Modesto, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, said in an interview with the Venetian Mago Mediterraneo, the Universal Doctrine signed at the summit will now lead to closer cooperation between the ministers of magic.
'The Universal Doctrine? What the hell is that?' Ron growled.
'Read on!' Hermione said, frowning.
"We all agreed that the current situation is unbearable. Last year's tragedy of the Durmstrang Incident, the tragedy of the headmasters of the Greek and Chinese magic schools and the murder of the British Minister for Magic days ago have shown that much closer cooperation is needed, and moreover, even the merging of some of the ministries' departments is essential. This would create common, higher-level management bodies to assist the work of the ministries and thus help to detect similar crimes."
Asked if the murders were linked, the Supreme Mugwump gave a surprising answer: "In any case, the crimes are linked, and the evidence gathered so far suggests that they are the work of a radical organisation of magical beings, mostly wanted werewolves, goblins and vampires, who seek to avenge their perceived, and in some cases, unfortunately, real grievances against the wizarding society, thus endangering the Magical Brotherhood that has been established with them."
'Magical Brotherhood, they're making something out of nothing!' Ron exclaimed. 'And this magical beings conspiracy is a bunch of bullshit... Werewolves and goblins... He was the one who had the ministers thrown to them as quarry!'
'What else do they write?' Ginny urged.
'I'm reading...'
Modesto pledged to re-evaluate relations and agreements with magical beings in the framework of new international cooperation, in order to establish a new, and as he said, fairer system. "We intend to implement the changes through a series of reforms, which will be introduced in turn during the current and next year, when the financial and material resources will be in place. The reforms will cover all areas of the magical administration, from the registration of magical beings to education reforms."
'Brilliant,' Ron grumbled cynically, 'All we need now is to get Umbridge back to Hogwarts.'
'Dad won't let them do that!' Ginny shook her head, who blew a fuse at the mere mention of the former Chief Inspector's name.
'As long as he is in power,' the boy reminded her. 'If the Nameless attacks our ministry, Dad will have to go into hiding just like us. But listen, there's more still...'
From the remarks made by the Supreme Mugwump, some have concluded that the ICW is reopening a trial after fifty years about the future of the prison town of Nurmengard. The Norwegian and German magic authorities, who jointly oversee the island, gave account in their report to the summit about the relative under-utilisation of the prison.
'Under-utilisation?! The damn city was FULL of prisoners!'
'Ron...'
"We will also take action on the town of Nurmengard," said Benedetto Modesto. "The decision fifty years ago was urgent, it was necessary to fundamentally dismantle the system set up by Grindelwald, and this involved a certain conscious forgetting of the island. But Grindelwald is no longer alive, his ghost no longer haunts the walls of the prison town, and it is time to exploit the potential of Nurmengard. At the summit, the prime ministers and I agreed that once the prison has been dismantled, the buildings will be used to meet the needs of the ICW."
'So it's really happening,' Hermione sighed.
Ron stared gloomily at the newspaper, as if it could be responsible for all the bad things in it. Ginny didn't feel like playing cards any longer, and Hermione put the textbook aside, then just stared into nothing for a long moment, frowning.
'What else is in the paper?' asked Harry, who somehow wanted to know more about the Nameless' movements. He wanted to follow him, keep an eye on him, after what had happened.
'Not much...' Ron muttered. 'McGonagall went back to Hogwarts, they mention her miraculous recovery again; a half-page memoir about Kingsley - hm... he deserved more; and they write about the dementors' demise and how no one has a clue what happened.'
Ron folded up the newspaper and threw it across the room next to the trash can, then leaned back on the couch.
'I still can't believe that Claymore of Spirits thing,' he said, shaking his head. 'That Hagrid had that magical weapon all along, and that you killed all the dementors with it at one swoop...! That's something.'
'We lucked out,' Harry shrugged. Ron laughed.
'One doesn't eradicate dementors just being lucky!'
Before dinner, Harry felt he needed a walk on the beach. This feeling had been getting more and more frequent lately, but his friends didn't mind at all, they let him walk around. After the card game, Ginny was with Fleur nursing the baby, Hermione was getting dinner ready, and Ron fell asleep on the couch after ten minutes of looking through his girlfriend's Transfiguration book.
It was refreshing to walk on the beach, as always, which was so much more pleasant and magical than the sight of icy waves breaking on the barren rocks of Nurmengard. There were grassy sand dunes, behind the house a dense, thick forest began, and the sky was starry and the Milky Way was as clear as from the observatory tower at Hogwarts.
Harry put his hands in his pockets and continued to waddle along the beach. He passed a small mound of earth, overgrown with flowers, on which rested a white stone inscribed with the words, "Here lies Dobby, a free elf."
The surface of the stone was already green with moss, but the little flowers were being tended by someone - probably Fleur or Bill - with a diligence that filled Harry's heart with a warmth of gratitude.
He stopped not far from the grave, turned towards the sea, then thought for a moment and walked down to the water. Waves lapped at his feet wearing slippers, and he enjoyed the cool wetness that seemed to wash away all the badness. With each wave, the pressure on his soul eased, and he felt as if he could almost be happy. Ron and Hermione had been freed from prison, they were all alive, and what he had thought impossible a year ago had happened: he could wake up with Ginny every morning again.
Though Al had predicted he would, but it was still so unbelievable to Harry...
'Do you enjoy being alone?'
Speak of the devil... – crossed his mind. He didn't even have to think about who had addressed him, and he was almost expecting the boy, whom he hadn't seen once since the events in Nurmengard.
'Hi, Al...'
'I thought you'd had enough of loneliness from being in prison,' said the boy, joining him. He stood beside Harry in the water, but his feet did not get wet from the wave.
Harry looked at the boy, who seemed even more cheerful than usual for some reason.
'What are you so happy about?'
Al smiled even wider.
'What a great trip to Nurmengard!' he said in good humour. Harry snorted.
'Hah... Speak for yourself. I've become a werewolf...' he pointed to his bitten arm, still wearing a bandage he changed daily which would smell from far away of the applied rosemary.
Al's grin has faded from his face.
'Oh... I... I didn't know it would happen then,' he muttered sympathetically.
'But of course you knew about it, you just didn't tell me!' Harry snapped, but he already regretted his outburst; Al couldn't help it, and he mustn't have told him about such an event.
'I'm sorry, dad...' said the boy with his head bowed.
'Is there anything else that will happen to me I should be aware about? Will I be perhaps run over by a road roller or will I suffer some other "minor" injury?' Harry said mockingly.
'What is a road roller?'
'Never mind...'
Harry started down the beach, slowly pacing, with Al walking beside him. Neither of them said anything for a while, and finally, when he could stand it no longer, Harry asked his question:
'You found what you were looking for, right? In the cell where we found Astoria.'
Al nodded, and a little smile returned to his face.
'Mm-hmm... She was exactly in the cell her grandfather had spent his years in until old Voldemort took him out. Ironic, isn't it?'
Harry shrugged.
'I guess rather an interesting coincidence.' He didn't think there was any intention in putting Astoria in that cell. As far as he knew, the Nameless had not the slightest interest in her fate, Grindelwald's granddaughter or not.
'You think it was a coincidence?' Al winked at him. 'If Astoria hadn't been locked up there, I would never have seen the writing on the wall.'
They were heading back along the coast towards the Shell Cottage, and the waves started to slightly increase in size, indicating the approach of high tide. They moved away from the water and continued their journey through the grassy dunes.
'What was that writing in the first place?' Harry asked again. He didn't know when the point would come when Al could say no more, but until then he wanted to question the boy.
'Something that will change everything forever,' was the answer.
Harry glanced at the boy's face again. It was serious, the mirth gone from it, and only determination reflected in the gleaming green eyes, a determination that Harry had once found even in his own features.
'But you can't tell me, can you?' he asked tentatively.
Al stopped and turned to him with his hands in his pockets. Harry stopped too, and the boy pretended to kick the sand with his shoes. He made a funny little laughing sound, then his face turned serious again. He looked as if he were struggling.
'As a matter of fact, I could tell you,' he finally groaned.
Harry couldn't have been more surprised, and he looked at Al with raised eyebrows. Al continued:
'I looked at the Fate Peeper, and to my great surprise it showed that there was absolutely no danger in telling you what I was going to do next.'
For some reason, Harry didn't like the way the boy said those words. He could feel the tension in his voice, every movement, the confused flicker of his eyes and the way his tongue moistened his lips again and again, suggested that this was very serious matter.
'What are you going to do?'
Al sighed, and then he started.
'You've heard of the spell that created Nurmengard, right? The enchantment that the nerds thought was the most powerful spell in the world, but then it was lost when Grindi was locked up. Only the old man didn't take his secret with him into the grave - why would he, it was his greatest spell...'
The boy paused, and Harry waited and watched patiently.
'He noted it down sometime, somewhere,' Al continued. 'A Faceless told me this after I got it out of him with quite effective Legilimens. But he didn't know when or where the spell was recorded. So I started looking... First I thought of the magical items Grindelwald had made: like the golden shield I stole from Draco Malfoy. It had cryptic runes on it, I remembered from when I was a kid - Grindelwald loved secret messages and cryptic nonsense. But the golden shield was a dead end. I found that out when I was talking to that diviner in Nurmengard.'
Harry remembered the blind fish diviner, and his strange prophecy ("Three lives for three lives"), but what he remembers most is what he said to Al - and most of all, him being able to see the boy, who was only there as a vision...
'But you said there was nothing engraved on it, so that didn't work either... I'd almost given up when Rose... I mean, on the advice of a friend, I started looking elsewhere. We were wondering why Grindelwald would have written down the secret spell when he was still in the height of his power? Rather, he would've felt the need to leave his knowledge behind after his downfall. But by then he could no longer leave his cell.'
Harry was beginning to understand what the boy was getting at.
'But there was a snag: in my time, that building no longer exists, because you and our dear Nameless friend have leveled the north wing of the prison. But I was hoping that if I followed you, I'd find it somewhere sooner or later. And I did!' Al's face lit up, almost triumphant. 'There it was, carved on the wall, hidden in a gibberish German text. I memorised the inscription, and with your old broken Pensieve we analysed it. Guess what, the spell was hidden in a recipe for Bavarian troll knuckles!'
Al had a good laugh, but Harry was silent, not understanding anything at all. He knew now that Al hadn't killed Draco Malfoy, as he knew the protective power of the golden shield, and he knew how Malfoy had come into possession of the item, but he still didn't understand the point of the whole search.
When the boy was done laughing at the troll knuckle recipe, Harry asked the question:
'I don't understand where you're going with this spell? Why was it so important for you to find it?'
Al replied with a cheerful smile, but again Harry could see that cold determination in his eyes.
'Very simple, Dad. I will destroy Nurmengard. I'll sink the whole island back into the depths of the sea, and with it the Nameless and the Fourth Tower will be destroyed, along with all the Faceless!'
It was frightening to see the boy's expression suddenly change, and Harry was speechless. The always cheerful and joking Albus Severus, reminding him a little of Fred and George, had a bloodlust on his face for the first time.
'What's wrong? You don't think it's a good idea?'
Harry thought he was hard of hearing.
'A good idea?! Are you completely mad?' he snapped at the boy, who had taken a step back from him and seemed to be completely confused. 'You can't kill that many people, it's... it's...' Harry searched for the right words. 'Mass-murder!'
Al's face suddenly turned red with anger.
'It's the same thing they did, Dad! You don't know it yet, but soon you will see what will happen in the world! Hundreds of thousands will be wiped out, throngs of magical beings will be slaughtered, and even Muggles will not be spared!'
'That's still no excuse to kill everyone in a town!' Harry retorted. 'If... if what you say is true, and the way it looks in the papers, there will be people living there, innocent people, am I right?'
Al turned his head away awkwardly and hissed loudly, obviously being annoyed by the question.
'Yes, there are...'
'So how would you be capable of doing that? Is this who you really are? A killer who throws a killing curse at everyone in sight? Is that what you are?!'
Al shook his head as if he had not heard Harry's words.
'This is our only chance to beat them!' he yelled stubbornly. 'If Nurmengard is not destroyed, they will rule the world forever! Forever! Do you know what's going on among the Muggles right now, Dad? They're at war with each other, because the Nameless thought it would be easiest to agitate them against each other with a few presidents and dictators under the Imperius curse. Then the wizards can come out of the shadows as saviors, and the Muggles won't even have to be convinced to accept us as their rulers. It's the Nameless' grand plan for the greater good, and all that rubbish! If we don't stop him, it'll be all over!'
The boy stopped shouting, and then he gasped for a long time, as if he had been running, but Harry was silent. He was beginning to understand how Fawkes felt about him, what was behind those disappointed eyes, because now he was looking at Al the same way.
'You could never defeat them,' the boy continued, now more calmly. 'You couldn't stand up to the Nameless because you had no choice. All you could do was to keep the wand... and give life to me.'
They looked at each other for a long moment, Harry still not knowing what to say. Al stared at him almost pleadingly, as if waiting for his approval.
'You've already fought your war, Dad. Now it's my turn.'
Harry sighed and shook his head, then simply turned his back on the boy.
'Where are you going now?' Al said after him. 'Are you listening to me?'
Harry only took a few steps, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
'I don't think we have anything more to say to each other,' Harry said coldly. Al stared at him, motionless as a statue. 'I can see in your eyes that I can't make you see any better, there is too much anger in you. I've seen it before...' Harry added, thinking of Malfoy. 'There's no point in us seeing each other any more. Let each man go his own way... and be what he may...'
Harry didn't know how much longer Al stood there on the beach, alone, because he left him and did not look back. Hundreds of impulses and emotions swirled inside him, and he didn't know which one was guiding his steps now; disappointment or anger? Or fear?
He feared the fate awaiting Al. Just like him: be a murderer or a victim... A fate he would never have wished on anyone, let alone him... His own son...
What would Ginny have done if she could talk to Al, if she knew what he, Harry, knew about the future, what he had seen, what he had been told?
He set off along the winding path towards the house, but stopped halfway, at the top of the highest hill, and turned back towards the rolling sea. Where he had been talking to Al earlier, the water now took over, the tide coming up metres, slowly taking over the beach.
Harry knew what he had to do: he had to change what had happened. What hadn't happened to him yet, but for Al it was an unalterable part of the past. He took another deep breath, inhaling the cool sea breeze to calm his racing thoughts. He must find the Nameless' weaknesses to defeat him. He had to find out, and he had all the tools and means to do so, in a bag he had brought with him from the Leaky Cauldron. If he has to, he'll go through all the memories, without exception, he'll do whatever it takes to save Al from his future... Because that's his job.
'Harry, come in for a minute!' A voice called from inside the house. Harry looked towards the house and saw Ginny waving at the door. 'Professor McGonagall is here to see you and Professor Eakle is here with her!'
'I'll be there in a moment!' Harry called back.
First of all, he must find Dumbledore's painting. He will know what to do. Together, they will find the Nameless' weakness, whatever it is, however cleverly concealed, they will find it.
Harry turned and went back into the house, into the warm, cosy living room, where the smell of a delicious dinner was already wafting out into the garden, beckoning the visitor, promising a cheerful, peaceful evening.
The night painted long shadows on the high tower of Nurmengard. The emptiness of the city made the lines of the already ominous, foreboding buildings eerie. Only the tower of the town hall was lit by lanterns, guiding the flying figure like a beacon. His cape and long hair fluttered in the wind as he flew without a broom towards the highest window, determined to reach his destination.
Marius stepped down onto the ledge and opened the window with the wand he had taken from the Faceless guarding the gate moments before. No one noticed when he entered the city - there was too much destruction and too much unguarded territory. But the price was high.
The Viking had fallen, his loyal companions, the dementors, who he felt closer to than humans, were no more - Harry Potter had destroyed them. But it didn't matter, because now he was here at last...
He flitted through the window like a ghost, and stood in the Nameless' office. He looked around the tastefully furnished room; the portrait of Grindelwald hanging on the wall was asleep, the office was still, completely empty, not a soul in it. But Marius was not deceived, the candles were lit, he knew he had only to wait and his victim would sooner or later appear...
But then he caught sight of the other door at the back of the office and started walking. He opened the door into the dark bedroom, his stolen wand pointed forward, and knew at once that he had found the man he had come for.
The moonlight shone through the window, its pale light falling on a man sitting on a red draped bed. Marius stopped on the threshold and grinned, already feeling the sweet smell of victory.
'Game over, Nameless!' he growled at him. 'You may have beaten the Blight, but you won't beat me...'
The man sitting there did not move.
'You think so, Marius?' the Nameless whispered to him, and put something he had been looking at on the bed beside him. The moonlight glinted off it - it was a glazed photograph, but from where the blue-skinned man stood he could not see of who it was. There were people moving about, and perhaps a child among them.
'You'll pay for your treachery, you old fool... Don't move!'
But the Nameless ignored him. With a light movement he got up from the bed and turned around. He wore a mask, his usual diamond-encrusted metal mask with precious stones.
Marius immediately saw the wand in his hand and reacted with lightning-fast reflexes:
'Crucio!'
The beam of light never reached the Nameless; he moved faster than his attacker, and the curse bounced off an invisible shield and broke the window. The Nameless contemplated the result of the curse for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.
'Here we go again...'
Marius got nervous from his failure; this man was much faster than he was, and even his arrival was not unexpected. Could it be that he had been watched the whole time since he entered the city?
Then suddenly he noticed his opponent's weapon as he passed the broken window. Marius' eyes widened as he recognized his own wand in the Nameless' grip.
'You noticed?' said the masked sorcerer, and almost playfully held up the wand. 'How could you lose something so important, hm... Marius? Your friend Riddle was much more careful with his Horcruxes.'
Marius was furious at the mere mention of Riddle's name, but to see his opponent cornered him drove him virtually mad. The anger mingled with fear, like a burning venom surging through his body, screaming for the wand that meant life...
'So you're here to get revenge on me, are you?' asked the Nameless. 'But why? What have I done against you, Marius?'
The blue-skinned man's bright eyes flashed ominously in the darkness like two stars.
'You ask this?' Marius cried. 'You promised that all the Death Eaters would atone for serving Riddle, but you lied to me! You've been hiding them all along, giving them shelter.'
'Exactly,' the Nameless nodded at him, making the other even more upset, 'Because I needed them to achieve my goal, just as I needed you. The only difference is that you, my dear friend, have always been more important to me than they were...'
'You always lie!' sputtered Marius, and raised his wand on the level of his enemy's head. 'Die!'
Before he could utter the killing curse, the wand flew out of his hand and landed in the corner; the Nameless defeated him with his own weapon in the blink of an eye.
'You're not such a big lad without the Viking, are you?' the sorcerer hissed. 'It was a rash move to venture into my realm and come upon me in the middle of the night. You've miscalculated, Marius.'
The blue-skinned man grunted and backed out of the room. He knew the Nameless couldn't kill him, but...
'You think so?' said the sorcerer sinisterly, his X-ray eyes hidden by his mask. 'You think I cannot kill you, Marius?'
He drew a small circle in front of him with his wand and a long, ornate arrow emerged from the tip and began to spin in the air.
Marius was horrified to recognise the weapon that had killed the dementors.
'You know what it is.' The Nameless' words sounded more like a statement than a question. 'It took my Faceless a full day to find this intact piece under the ruins.'
He walked forward inexorably, following the retreating Marius into the office bathed in light, and the arrow spun in the air.
'Now you'll hear me out, won't you?' asked the Nameless, and stopped. 'I don't care for Death Eaters, Marius. Just as I have despised Voldemort since the day I met him. Do you not believe me?'
Marius could not answer, for the Nameless then did a strange thing: he lowered his wand, letting the arrow continue to spin on its own, and reached for his diamond mask with his gloved hand.
When the mask came off, Marius immediately fell to his knees before him, his face a mixture of deep astonishment and fear.
'Are you... are you...? Is this... is this the true? Or... or is it another disguise?' he stammered, confused.
The Nameless nodded.
'No more masks. And no more lies, Marius,' the man told him. 'Do you believe me now?'
Marius replied almost immediately:
'I believe... I believe you!' he said. 'My lord... I would've never thought it was you... But how is this possible?'
'Enough questions for now, my friend. I told you I needed you to carry out my plans. You trust me?'
'I trust you, my lord...'
'Then take my hand, Marius,' the Nameless held out his right hand. The former took it without hesitation and rose from the ground.
'Where are we going?'
The Nameless put back his diamond mask and put away the arrow, but one last smile crossed his face.
'It's time you got to know the others. And to take your father's place in the Circle...' he said in a soft voice. 'I'll introduce you to the other lords.'
Marius nodded and let the red-robed sorcerer lead him to the window. He didn't look out at the night sky, the angular shapes of the black city, or the giant cabinet in the office that had once held the Nameless' memories, standing open and wide; he stared at the diamond-encrusted mask alone, still with disbelief in his eyes, until, with a quite graceful movement, they both disapparated.
THE END
BOOK 3 of the Nurmengard Trilogy: Harry Potter and the Emerald Sigillus
ID: 14151379
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