Chapter Twenty Nine: Ancient Remedies

May 7th

6:03pm

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry

"Try again," Harry encouraged Neville. For an hour now they had been practising a new spell chain designed for rapid fire bombardment, weaving the end of a wand movement to the start of another. "Try again but this time close your eyes, aim isn't the main objective here."

"How will-"

Harry cut Neville off and instructed once more, "close your eyes and allow the spells to flow together." Seeing Neville's persevering scepticism he pushed further, "you know the movements now simply turn your thoughts to actions."

Neville didn't verbally respond, instead choosing to follow the guidance Harry provided. With his eyes closed and wand raised towards the back of the room of requirement Harry gave his final piece of advice. "Don't think, act on instinct and… cast."

Spells shot from Neville's wand faster than they ever had before, the room of requirement was a spectacle with lights of various colours illuminating the walls in a shower of colour before dissipating on impact. Before it had even started it was over, Harry counted a successful sixteen spells in under ten seconds, nothing to laugh at. Neville opened his eyes, and an excited gleam overtook them.

"Phenomenal Neville, truly," Harry congratulated as he stood and clapped him on the back, "now see if you can replicate it with your eyes open whilst I check on the others."

"Thanks Harry," Neville replied with a determined and confident voice.

Harry gave him one last smile before wandering over to the other side of the room where Daphne, Hermione and Blaise were hunched over a table. Daphne noticed his approach first being on the opposite side of the table and returned the awkward smile he sent her way with a small one of her own.

If Harry had to sum up how their relationship was holding up it would be in essence what just occurred, where stolen glances and minor interactions were all they allowed themselves. Both with fear and pain in their hearts, neither would neglect the duty they had to others to let themselves feel what they felt in that brief week of freedom.

She flicked her eyes down at the table and back to him which indicated what they were looking at was important. A gesture he greatly appreciated having been lost in what could be rather than what is.

"Harry," Hermione called out and beckoned him over, "come take a look at this."

He took a spot standing next to Hermione and scanned the scrolls cluttering the table top and came to a worrying realisation. "Are these…"

"They're the scrolls Daphne gave me to read over and I think I found something useful," she explained.

Harry took a step back subtly and gave Daphne a worried look. He could already feel the coil of the monster inside his core wrapping itself between the pathways of his magic making them cold and violent. He needn't have worried too much though because that glance Daphne's way showed she was prepared for such a reaction with her wand laid out on the table and discreetly pointing in his direction.

'"Her value is above my own," Damien had told me. No truer words have been spoken.'

Steeling himself mentally and grabbing the edge of the table hard until his knuckles turned white, Harry turned to the parchment directly in front of Hermione. The scroll wasn't something he could easily make out, whenever he focused on the letters they scrambled and restructured to make a new sentence.

"I can't… I can't read it," he admitted warily.

"Neither could we," Blaise told him, which brought him great comfort. "Until we read a separate ancient document that provided the details for unlocking such a scroll."

Hermione waved her wand over the parchment and spoke in a language he didn't immediately grasp but when the letters on the page revealed themselves properly he figured it out. "Greek? What good is a Greek scroll?"

"Look here," she said, pointing to a word; Ερπον. "Herpon, or as we know him, Herpo the Foul, was Greek and the first person to ever create a horcrux," Hermione reminded him.

'Right, the horcrux coerced a wizard to kill his family according to the Black Grimoire,' he recalled. He reached over and turned the parchment to scan it for any words he knew. "What's the Greek word for 'soul' Hermione?"

"It's pronounced psychi and comes up several times in this paper alone. There were also four more scrolls linked to this one but with less mentions of the word soul. What we also came up with in the preliminary readings were the words container, ritual and…" Hermione trailed off, unable to continue down the path she started with the weight of it all on her shoulders.

"And death," Blaise finished for her. Harry couldn't tell if Hermione was pleased for his assistance or annoyed but was determined to understand more about the paper.

"So for clarity's sake, you think these are Herpo the Foul's notes on how to create a horcrux?" As soon as the words left his lips he had to do all he could not to lurch backwards as it felt like a force hit him in the sternum. The blood pumped in his ears and his eyes grew blurry. Then the cold came in force and felt like he was being slowly submerged in a freezing lake.

'I am Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. I am Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter. I am–'

"Harry?" an icy voice questioned beside him. He turned and felt Daphne before he saw her. He slowly looked down and first saw how she held his right arm with a firm grip but more prudently felt the wand digging into his side. He then decided to meet her eyes, a decision that came with the realisation he could no longer feel the cold impending doom he had just a moment ago.

"I'm here, I'm Harry," he assured, tagging on his name for Daphne's sake. He felt her grip on his arm tighten before it slid away

"Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked in concern. Harry moved his left hand to the place Daphne had just held instinctively and found the gesture hadn't been a kind and caring one, she had taken his wand whilst he cooled off. He held her gaze but she didn't budge because she knew that it was the right thing to do, especially with his friends around.

"Yeah Hermione, I'm fine. Voldemort must be skinning some puppies or something which gave me a wave of emotion," he lied. Only Daphne, Dumbledore and maybe Snape knew of his fate still. He would eventually tell others but only when they had complete faith in the new world they were going to build and not just him. "You were saying?"

Hermione shared a nervous glance with Blaise before repeating herself, "we do believe these are notes at least about Herpo's experiments. We'll need to do a full translation before anything though."

"Can you? Do a full translation, I mean."

"I suppose," Hermione said before biting her lip, "I only know a small amount of ancient Greek and even then–"

"We can do it," Blaise interjected firmly. Hermione's face turned slightly pink and she gave Harry a more enthusiastic nod than her words.

'Merlin's beard was it this obvious with Ron?' The thought slipped out before he could stop it which brought a wash of unprocessed grief over him. He squashed it for now, there was no time to grieve, just like Daphne said; we keep moving forward. "Thank you, get right to it, this has higher priority than anything else so if you need to skip training sessions to get it done then do so."

"We'll start on it right away!" Hermione answered with glee. He imagined there was nothing more that she'd rather do than translate a millenia old text. Blaise, to his credit, allowed himself to be dragged out of the room of requirement without so much as a peep.

Harry turned around and called out to Neville, "you've done magnificent work today Nev' go get some rest and make sure to keep up the practise." Neville left with a thank you and a muttered goodbye to Daphne who Harry thinks still intimidates the boy.

"What do you think?" Harry asked with his back turned to Daphne, "is there a solution buried in these ancient transcripts?"

"If there is, we'll find it."

The type of reply he'd come to expect for her. There is always a solution in Daphne's mind, no matter the odds. "An ancient remedy, hidden behind an ancient language," he scoffed and turned around to continue in a harsh tone, "don't involve me in this unless you find something closer to a solution, it's too dangerous."

She stared at him threateningly to erode his anger, it was a tactic that worked well when he remembered he didn't have his wand anymore. "I know," she admitted, pulling his wand from her pocket and tossing it back to him, "any word from Remus?"

"Yeah we spoke yesterday," he replied as he pocketed his wand. He pivoted to the right and sat in the seat that materialised for him as Daphne waved her wand to clear all the papers and take a seat opposite him at the table. "He says he's been able to completely inform three people on our position so far; Kingsley Shacklebolt, Bill Weasley and Hestia Jones."

"Weasley?" she muttered in disbelief, "how did he manage that?"

"From what Tonks has told me about the meeting, Remus spoke very well and with Sirius backing him up it swayed many to our cause," Harry explained with no small amount of pride for the old marauders success. "Now we just need to ensure they can be trusted."

"Hmmm, easier said than done," she commented.

Betrayal had been weighing heavily on his mind too. How to avoid another Wormtail and his own betrayal of trust by not telling others about his fate. It gnawed at him each day he still drew breath and he imagined it would till his last. A daunting prospect to carry such a burden but at least he got to share it with someone.

"I've been thinking, I don't want to return to Hogwarts next year," Harry said. She didn't look surprised but he elaborated after her silence, "I'd be much more useful if I was at the chateau coordinating things rather than stuck here attending the occasional class."

"It's a good idea," she credited to him. Tapping her fingers on the table she continued, "I've been thinking much the same. We've got our O.W.L's, that's more than enough for the ministry workers currently in power let alone when we're making decisions."

"Right," he muttered awkwardly. It was whilst he was scratching the back of his head sheepishly did he realise that all of these plans would mean nothing had it not been for Daphne's timely save. "Thank you for your help today, it may not seem like it at the moment, but I do appreciate it."

His admittance came easily when the alternative was her resentment of his uncontrollable actions. She had been so diligent since she had pledged to look after him and he doubted he'd still be himself without her help.

"Just hold out long enough for me to save you and that will be thanks enough," she replied as she reached across the table with her hand. He delicately placed his hand in hers in response and held it there whilst he smiled gratefully. He may not be able to hope for his own survival, but he found solace in the fact there would always be someone who did.


May 10th

8:24am

Nurmengard, Austria

Albus Dumbledore

The wizened wizard appeared by portkey in a densely forested area surrounding the keep. Last he was there, the forest was home to all manner of dark creatures which fed off of the violence and death inside the castle's walls. The ones who required it for nourishment had long since left the ruin in hopes for better prospects but if the shrieks he heard as he walked the snowed over path were any clue, some had remained.

Even with the path snowed over he knew the way well enough, the memory of this place was firmly planted in his mind despite attempts to suppress it. An old wooden cart long since rotted on its side assaulted him with the memory and smell of dead zealots piled on it to be experimented on or worse. He didn't allow the memories to stop him though, for he had one goal in mind and he would not be denied its completion.

The path brought him to the obsidian black outer wall of the keep with a large archway for an entrance. Albus' eyes flicked upwards and read the ghastly inscription on the stone that had caused him so much grief. 'For the greater good… I do wonder if any other four words have caused so much destruction.'

"Halt! Who goes there?" a voice said on the ramparts. Albus spotted a middle aged man in the deep blue ICW peacekeeper robes. Three more appeared along the walls with their wands trained on Dumbledore and wearing stone-like expressions.

"Albus Percival Wilfred Brian Dumbledore, I have come alone."

The same man gave him a sceptical glance before shouting down, "what is your business with Nurmengard Dumbledore?"

"No business with the castle I'm afraid," Dumbledore cheekily replied before growing serious, "I'm much more interested in its sole guest."

"He is not to have guests, ICW orders," the guard said, continuing to be abrasive.

"He will today, my boy," Dumbledore responded with a hard edge to his voice. "You can even have my wand if that pleases you, but I will be visiting Mr Grindelwald today, whether you all keep your jobs in the process is still uncertain."

The threat worked like a charm and it only took a moment of the lead guard going out of sight for Albus to see the wards in the archway disappear. "Step through and place your wand in the tray, we'll have two officers escort you to the prisoner's cell and you will be allowed to collect your wand on your way out."

Dumbledore followed the man's orders, as he passed through the archway he felt a ward similar to the thief's downfall on Gringotts wash over him and confirm that no disguises were present. He had expected this and come with no concealment charms on his hand for this very purpose. He then found himself placing his wand in the tray and being ushered through the courtyard which now seemed to function as a small barracks with tents pitched along the eastern wall. They passed guards nearly every twenty steps, all of them in pairs and all of them standing at attention before the officers were even in sight.

'No shortcuts taken here, still Gellert and I would've made short work of the garrison in our day. Every precaution taken is a half measure to men like us, an unfortunate truth for the common wizard.'

They walked down a set of side stairs with guards both at the top and the bottom with grim expressions. They came to a stone corridor with doors lining the sides and a door at the end. There had to be twenty guards in this corridor alone. "The door at the end, you will have ten minutes before we come knocking," one of his escorts shortly explained.

"Thank you gentlemen," Dumbledore returned politely and made the walk to the cell containing his oldest friend and enemy. His traitorous mind conjured thoughts of betrayal and longing all at once leaving his mind tumultuous and discordant. Before he knew it he was standing before the plain wooden door, the final threshold to maintaining or breaking over five decades of rejection.

'I am Albus Dumbledore,' he reminded himself, 'no door will evoke such hesitancy from me.'

With that reassurance he pushed the lock to the side and opened the door inward. The room was dark with a small window on the far side proving just enough moonlight to see things. A chamber pot unemptied to his right, a plate of half eaten chicken to his left on a table and a small cot lay beneath the window. Not a very lavish existence, but entirely deserved.

"A visitor…" a voice said from the cot as a man rose from it, "isn't that interesting."

Dumbledore steeled himself and made the commitment to this task by stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. When he turned back around the man was sitting up straight in the cot, the moon illuminating half of his face and revealing the wrinkled old face of Gellert Grindelwald.

"Hello Gellert," Albus greeted simply.

"Could it be?" the man questioned mostly to himself, "my schätzen."

"Not anymore," Albus intoned seriously.

"Ah but you will always be my treasure Alb, no amount of time will change that," the old man continued from his place on the edge of his bed, bouncing slightly.

"Stop this act Gellert, it grew tiring fifty years ago."

In a flash the man's body language shifted entirely. He stopped bouncing in the end of his bed and his posture became more deliberately rigid. He leaned back on his bed and sighed, "it was worth a try, it has been a terribly boring half century old friend."

"You will find no sympathy here," Dumbledore replied.

"And what is it you hope to find, lebenspartner? Have you come to repent, to seek retribution or perhaps you wish to know." The dark wizard's tone grew more sinister with each word as he pulled on the strings of Albus' heart. Dumbledore caught the mocking smile on Grindelwald's face and reeled in the torrent of emotions that the old man's words brought with them.

"I have long since required the answer to that question Gellert, no, I'd much rather you tell me what you can about this." Dumbledore reached into his sleeve and pulled free the elder wand having given up his chosen wand at the front gate.

Grindelwald's eyes widened in fascination at his old wand and he reached out for it in a trance like state. He stopped himself, however, as his eyes were drawn to something else. "You are dying."

It was a simple enough statement but Albus couldn't tell how it made the man feel. He said it with a mixture of regret and disbelief, but Albus knew it could be an act. "I am," Dumbledore confirmed calmly, "and I have questions about its allegiance should I succumb to the curse."

"It would pass to the person who gave you the affliction, unless you were disarmed by another before then," Gellert replied, being surprisingly helpful. "You have become more learned in the arts to stop such a curse from killing you immediately."

"Not at all, old friend, I simply know the value of others skill sets in this case." Dumbledore then turned to the wand thoughtfully, "so if I were to allow myself to be disarmed? Would it still pass ownership to the caster?"

Grindelwald looked away but continued to reply, "yes. The wand only cares for victory." His head flicked upwards and he caught the headmaster's eyes. "Did you get to feel it, the power, the freedom that only the wand can give."

"I did," Dumbledore admitted sadly, remembering the magnificent feats he'd been able to accomplish with the wand's power at his control. "And it took far too long to recognise the corruption hidden behind the gifts." The arrogance that came with its possession, he had thought he would be strong enough to contain it, but that thought alone showed he was as foolhardy as the rest.

"Its power is beyond our own understating Alb, how can you be sure it won't corrupt the next?"

Dumbledore pondered the notion, one he hadn't considered, much to his embarrassment. "I can not be sure but I can have faith in them."

"Faith? My my Albus, you have changed," the old dark wizard muttered sourly. "What happened to the man who wouldn't allow the rain to fall without his say so?"

"He learned to let go."

Grindelwald and Dumbledore stared at each other a thousand words left unsaid. Unsaid they would remain as Grindelwald simply nodded and Dumbledore turned leaving the cell without another word. The final piece of his plan was complete and now he would have to make good on his word.


May 17th

3:03am

Nurmengard, Austria

Voldemort

A simple thought and the flick of his wand brought down the final peacekeeper in the hallway. Forty men and women at arms, forty men and women dead. It was all too easy after watching them for weeks, the second he arrived at the gates the men began firing upon him but soon found themselves without walls to stand on. From there he had set fire to the barracks with fiendfyre and strode on into the fortress.

Stepping over the last man, Voldemort raised his hand and the door before him was wrenched from its hinges and thrown behind him. He neutered the small room and immediately found the man he was looking for.

"Grindelwald…" Voldemort uttered.

"I have had the most eventful week, two visitors, three days apart after over fifty years of imprisonment," Grindelwald replied. He was already sitting up in his bed, likely having heard the commotion outside and preparing himself for salvation or death. "I knew you'd come… one day… seeking it,"

"Where is it? I know you possessed it," Voldemort bluffed, his being there still a gamble. Voldemort got in close, his face inches from Grindelwald's before whispering menacingly, "give me what I seek."

Grindelwald was not one to be intimidated, however, simply laughing in the man's face for the attempt. "I was a great dark wizard too, you will find it difficult extracting this information through fear."

"You may have been powerful once, but do not pretend you are anything more than a broken old man," Voldemort snapped back, gliding in a circle back to the door.

"You are right of course," Grindelwald smiled, "at least I don't pretend to be a lord."

Voldemort hissed and whipped his wand across his body unleashing a crucio on the old man. "Tell me, now!" he screamed, Grindelwald spasmed and fell to the cold stone floor but beyond that his reaction surprised Voldemort. To further prove his attempts at cruelty were a nuisance at best, Grindelwald laughed through the pain, taunting the dark lord with his glee echoing in the small chamber.

"You could kill me!" Grindelwald yelled in opposition, "kill me but the wand will never be yours!"

Voldemort's fury rose until it was at its apex and he unleashed it in the form of a sickly green curse. The old wizard slumped in a heap on the floor, unmoving but with the same challenging smile plastered on his face. The Dark Lord left the cell and transfigured his lower half into a black cloud, flying out of the fortress and into the early morning sky before disapparating with a final thought.

'There was only one man who was said to have defeated Gellert Grindelwald, a man I ordered dead months ago. Lord Voldemort will have that wand even if it takes the head of Draco Malfoy or Severus Snape to obtain it.'


A/N: The story moves forward in many places, a lot to unpack here.

Harry is having a horrible time, as usual. Harry being a teacher is one of my favourite tropes and I feel that would've been the best profession for him to go into after Hogwarts not upholding the system that started two (+) wars.

Harry and Daphne still aren't quite back to normal and probably won't be for a while. As you've come to see, they still care for each other, especially Daphne who keeps horcrux Harry in check no matter what but there's simply too much to worry about for their relationship to be normal. I'm glad to have more people to work with on Harry's side. Harry's side growing comes with both risks and rewards for him but widens what I can do as puppet master immensely.

The convo between Dumbledore and Grindelwald was awfully fun to write. We're obviously coming to the end of Dumbledore's arc and I like to think he's currently my most fleshed out character. Touching on Albus and Gellert relationship and how Gellert has also become a more remorseful man does stay true to canon a bit more than I'd like but how it ends is important – Dumbledore's fundamental character change which Gellert himself recognises.

The Voldemort sequence is pretty much the same as canon too so I apologise to those who aren't particularly thrilled about that. It was fun to make Gellert snub the new guy to the end. Even though Gellert didn't explicitly give anything up, the fact that he had the elder wand is enough for Voldemort to deduce Dumbledore won it.

Next Chapter in a few words: Staying true to your word

Hope you all enjoyed :)

Haphne Discord: discord . gg/pKSdvJQvhU

Twitch: twitch . tv/revanchistvii