If You Look Long Enough Into the Abyss...
By: J.R. Riddle
Authors Note: This fic is mostly in reaction to the weird, and to be quite honest, ridiculous portrayal of Albus Dumbledore in many fanfiction works. This story chronicles the final defeat of Grindewald by Dumbledore and it an attempt to show Dumbledore as the truly powerful wizard that he is. No more stories about Dumbledore being a weak-assed character, always humorous but with nothing behind it, or even stupider, wrestling with idiotic moral dilemmas. Rather what I will attempt to show in this story is a Dumbledore as a wizard in his prime, the key player in a battle of light versus dark and worthy of being called the greatest wizard that ever lived. Enjoy and please review.....and please feel free to flame away. JR
Prologue - Somewhere in Western Germany - Spring 1945
A murder of ravens circled in long looping spirals against the cloud flecked sky. Their high pierced cries were in sharp contrast to the soft sound of the wind whispering through new, spring grasses of a hillside meadow. Nor did they seem to attract the attention of the tall man striding through the grass as he made his way toward the crest of the sloping hill. Only when the man had reached his goal and flung back the hood that had partially covered his head did he glance upwards at the birds and then down at what must be the object of their interest.
The pulling of back of the hood revealed the face lined with a certain grimness and resolve. The most captivating thing about his face, however, were the bright, piercing blue eyes that scanned the countryside, taking in everything and forgetting nothing. Albus Dumbledore glanced again at the partially destroyed panzer tank, with the charred body of a wehrmacht officer grotesquely positioned in the turret hatch. Dumbledore sigh, thinking of the great loss caused by the muggle conflict. No, he corrected himself mentally, not just a muggle war, for part of the blame lay itself upon the wizarding world. This is what took him to Germany. The final part of a long journey to bring an end to the evil machinations of the Dark Wizard, Grindewald. A decisive win here, combined with the imminent fall of the Third Reich was what both worlds needed to ensure peace at last.
Dumbledore, lifting his gaze from the horrific reminder of war, now stared out at his objective. For all appearance it could have been just a Nazi communications post, a small compound of heavy cement buildings. Albus knew better though, this was the final destination in his searching for the Dark Lord. He had at last run Grindewald to earth and now was the time to finish it once and for all.
Chapter 1: Breath of Evil
Dumbledore strode down the opposite side of the hill toward the bunkers sitting squatly in the afternoon sun. While it was true that Grindewald's army had been for the most part defeated and scattered by the wizarding allies at Sorbonne, Dumbledore knew better than to expect this final engagement to be anything but extremely difficult. Nacar Grindewald was a master of lies and illusions and it would not be unlikely that he had kept a small contingent of his fanatical bodyguard with him when he had fled the field those two short weeks ago.
Reaching the bottom of the slight hill, he reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, 12 sturdy inches of oak with a hair of a sphinx as its magical core. A cloud, moving across the sun at this moment, caused a long sweeping shadow to race across the valley from the bunkers toward Dumbledore. With it came a chill and a wind that whipped at his robes as if trying to dig into and expose his very soul. Another wizard would perhaps have seen this as an omen of evil things to come and possibly reconsidered his choice of paths. Albus Dumbledore, on the other hand, blessed with a braver heart or perhaps with blind stupidity, reacted in a typical way. A small, lopsided smile creased one side of his face and with quick flick of his wand and some muttered words he suddenly began to run.
Straight toward the buildings he ran, at twice the normal speed of a human, he zigzagged around mounds of earth and grass and hurtling a rain filled bomb crater he stopped and lifting his wand bellowed: Leviso Oculum!
The blast of bluish light that came forth from his wand crashed against an invisible barrier several yards in front of the wizard. The air seemed to bend itself inwards in a saucer shaped depression as the spell sent blue tendrils out and across the barrier. With a crack the dark ward broke, sending a blast of black particles through the air. Moving forward now at normal speed, Dumbledore strode past the remains of the dark magic trap and raising his wand again prepared to continue his journey toward the bunkers now but a hundred meters away.
The fantasy of a quick trip became just a fantasy a few seconds later, however, as the ground quivered and shook beneath Dumbledore's feet. His quick eyes took in that no apparent threat was in front of him, and whirling was just in time to see the explosion of a gigantic Grecian Hydra from the bomb crater he had just vaulted. The creature rose upwards in excess of four meters and its seven heads hissed and screamed as it shook water from its gleaming coils.
Inwardly, Dumbledore groaned this would delay him considerably if he did not act with speed and accuracy. Before the Hydra could acquire him as her target and launch a strike or multiple strikes, Albus, with a wave of his wand, levitated himself skyward so that he was level with the writhing heads of the Hydra. A scream ripped through the afternoon air, one of the heads had spotted him, but as it whirled to attack Dumbledore cast his spell. " Primus Incendio!"
Fire leapt from his wand and splintered into many different streams of writhing, boiling, primordial lava. Dumbledore hung there in mid air as the ribbons of living fire twisted and curled in and out among the Hydra's head. The screams of the heads now took on a panicky note as they desperately attempted to evade the fire that seemed to know exactly where to follow them. With a hideous pop and one last scream a ribbon of lava caught one of the heads and engulfed it, leaving only a smoking stump. Each of the others head soon suffered the same fate as the relentless tongues of fire joined together and attacked each head. In a final desperate move, the creature, with only a single head remaining, attempted to snake itself out of the crater and flee. Coming to rest on the earth, Dumbledore summoned the streams of fire back toward his wand. When the last one had been collected back into his wand, he raised it above his head and cast one last curse after the crippled Hydra.
Omnis Volcanus! The combined flames of fires leaped from his wand, coalesced into one beam of rippling fire and slammed into the beast. It did not make a sound but was wreathed in flames for but a few seconds and then withered to the ground, a blackened pile of twisted bones. Dumbledore muttered a muggle cussword as he again turned toward his objective. ' That still took to long' he thought to himself, ' and where in blazes had Grindewald secured a Hydra? Things were going to get sticky if this trend continued.'
His gloomy prognosis appeared to becoming true even as the thoughts crossed his mind. A dark thunderhead was building across the sun with unnatural speed. The wind was up and already Albus felt the sting of a spattering of hail across his face. Resolutely he set off toward the bunkers determined that no element of nature no matter how evilly controlled would stop him from confronting the man he sought. The rain was no coming down in heavily, intermixed with occasional hailstones and Dumbledore was forced to erect a shielding charm about him that hissed and sizzled with the contact of the ice and water.
The compound was less than eighty meters away when the next sign of danger arose. Literally. The body of a German soldier, partially decomposed hand still clutching his rifle, struggled to its feet. There was no way, in a muggle or wizarding sense, that this man could be considered even possibly alive. Shrapnel from an American artillery gun had blown away half of his head. His one remaining eye rolled and twitched uncontrollably as he lurched toward Dumbledore. 'Zombies' Thought Albus coldly, this was both good and bad. It meant that he was going to have fight a battle that was particularly distasteful, its very hard to kill people that aren't alive, but also that Grindewald was becoming desperate. Perhaps, Albus had overestimated the remaining forces still loyal to the dark wizard
Other disfigured and horrific looking figures were joining the German sergeant as he approached Dumbledore. A quick glance estimated that there were a good 4 or 5 dozen of them. He would have to fight this battle on the move. The most dangerous thing was to trapped, surrounded and simply be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Lifting his wand once more he began to stride quickly toward the approaching undead and raising his voice began to chant a spell so old its origins had been lost to mankind even during days of Merlin.
By: J.R. Riddle
Authors Note: This fic is mostly in reaction to the weird, and to be quite honest, ridiculous portrayal of Albus Dumbledore in many fanfiction works. This story chronicles the final defeat of Grindewald by Dumbledore and it an attempt to show Dumbledore as the truly powerful wizard that he is. No more stories about Dumbledore being a weak-assed character, always humorous but with nothing behind it, or even stupider, wrestling with idiotic moral dilemmas. Rather what I will attempt to show in this story is a Dumbledore as a wizard in his prime, the key player in a battle of light versus dark and worthy of being called the greatest wizard that ever lived. Enjoy and please review.....and please feel free to flame away. JR
Prologue - Somewhere in Western Germany - Spring 1945
A murder of ravens circled in long looping spirals against the cloud flecked sky. Their high pierced cries were in sharp contrast to the soft sound of the wind whispering through new, spring grasses of a hillside meadow. Nor did they seem to attract the attention of the tall man striding through the grass as he made his way toward the crest of the sloping hill. Only when the man had reached his goal and flung back the hood that had partially covered his head did he glance upwards at the birds and then down at what must be the object of their interest.
The pulling of back of the hood revealed the face lined with a certain grimness and resolve. The most captivating thing about his face, however, were the bright, piercing blue eyes that scanned the countryside, taking in everything and forgetting nothing. Albus Dumbledore glanced again at the partially destroyed panzer tank, with the charred body of a wehrmacht officer grotesquely positioned in the turret hatch. Dumbledore sigh, thinking of the great loss caused by the muggle conflict. No, he corrected himself mentally, not just a muggle war, for part of the blame lay itself upon the wizarding world. This is what took him to Germany. The final part of a long journey to bring an end to the evil machinations of the Dark Wizard, Grindewald. A decisive win here, combined with the imminent fall of the Third Reich was what both worlds needed to ensure peace at last.
Dumbledore, lifting his gaze from the horrific reminder of war, now stared out at his objective. For all appearance it could have been just a Nazi communications post, a small compound of heavy cement buildings. Albus knew better though, this was the final destination in his searching for the Dark Lord. He had at last run Grindewald to earth and now was the time to finish it once and for all.
Chapter 1: Breath of Evil
Dumbledore strode down the opposite side of the hill toward the bunkers sitting squatly in the afternoon sun. While it was true that Grindewald's army had been for the most part defeated and scattered by the wizarding allies at Sorbonne, Dumbledore knew better than to expect this final engagement to be anything but extremely difficult. Nacar Grindewald was a master of lies and illusions and it would not be unlikely that he had kept a small contingent of his fanatical bodyguard with him when he had fled the field those two short weeks ago.
Reaching the bottom of the slight hill, he reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, 12 sturdy inches of oak with a hair of a sphinx as its magical core. A cloud, moving across the sun at this moment, caused a long sweeping shadow to race across the valley from the bunkers toward Dumbledore. With it came a chill and a wind that whipped at his robes as if trying to dig into and expose his very soul. Another wizard would perhaps have seen this as an omen of evil things to come and possibly reconsidered his choice of paths. Albus Dumbledore, on the other hand, blessed with a braver heart or perhaps with blind stupidity, reacted in a typical way. A small, lopsided smile creased one side of his face and with quick flick of his wand and some muttered words he suddenly began to run.
Straight toward the buildings he ran, at twice the normal speed of a human, he zigzagged around mounds of earth and grass and hurtling a rain filled bomb crater he stopped and lifting his wand bellowed: Leviso Oculum!
The blast of bluish light that came forth from his wand crashed against an invisible barrier several yards in front of the wizard. The air seemed to bend itself inwards in a saucer shaped depression as the spell sent blue tendrils out and across the barrier. With a crack the dark ward broke, sending a blast of black particles through the air. Moving forward now at normal speed, Dumbledore strode past the remains of the dark magic trap and raising his wand again prepared to continue his journey toward the bunkers now but a hundred meters away.
The fantasy of a quick trip became just a fantasy a few seconds later, however, as the ground quivered and shook beneath Dumbledore's feet. His quick eyes took in that no apparent threat was in front of him, and whirling was just in time to see the explosion of a gigantic Grecian Hydra from the bomb crater he had just vaulted. The creature rose upwards in excess of four meters and its seven heads hissed and screamed as it shook water from its gleaming coils.
Inwardly, Dumbledore groaned this would delay him considerably if he did not act with speed and accuracy. Before the Hydra could acquire him as her target and launch a strike or multiple strikes, Albus, with a wave of his wand, levitated himself skyward so that he was level with the writhing heads of the Hydra. A scream ripped through the afternoon air, one of the heads had spotted him, but as it whirled to attack Dumbledore cast his spell. " Primus Incendio!"
Fire leapt from his wand and splintered into many different streams of writhing, boiling, primordial lava. Dumbledore hung there in mid air as the ribbons of living fire twisted and curled in and out among the Hydra's head. The screams of the heads now took on a panicky note as they desperately attempted to evade the fire that seemed to know exactly where to follow them. With a hideous pop and one last scream a ribbon of lava caught one of the heads and engulfed it, leaving only a smoking stump. Each of the others head soon suffered the same fate as the relentless tongues of fire joined together and attacked each head. In a final desperate move, the creature, with only a single head remaining, attempted to snake itself out of the crater and flee. Coming to rest on the earth, Dumbledore summoned the streams of fire back toward his wand. When the last one had been collected back into his wand, he raised it above his head and cast one last curse after the crippled Hydra.
Omnis Volcanus! The combined flames of fires leaped from his wand, coalesced into one beam of rippling fire and slammed into the beast. It did not make a sound but was wreathed in flames for but a few seconds and then withered to the ground, a blackened pile of twisted bones. Dumbledore muttered a muggle cussword as he again turned toward his objective. ' That still took to long' he thought to himself, ' and where in blazes had Grindewald secured a Hydra? Things were going to get sticky if this trend continued.'
His gloomy prognosis appeared to becoming true even as the thoughts crossed his mind. A dark thunderhead was building across the sun with unnatural speed. The wind was up and already Albus felt the sting of a spattering of hail across his face. Resolutely he set off toward the bunkers determined that no element of nature no matter how evilly controlled would stop him from confronting the man he sought. The rain was no coming down in heavily, intermixed with occasional hailstones and Dumbledore was forced to erect a shielding charm about him that hissed and sizzled with the contact of the ice and water.
The compound was less than eighty meters away when the next sign of danger arose. Literally. The body of a German soldier, partially decomposed hand still clutching his rifle, struggled to its feet. There was no way, in a muggle or wizarding sense, that this man could be considered even possibly alive. Shrapnel from an American artillery gun had blown away half of his head. His one remaining eye rolled and twitched uncontrollably as he lurched toward Dumbledore. 'Zombies' Thought Albus coldly, this was both good and bad. It meant that he was going to have fight a battle that was particularly distasteful, its very hard to kill people that aren't alive, but also that Grindewald was becoming desperate. Perhaps, Albus had overestimated the remaining forces still loyal to the dark wizard
Other disfigured and horrific looking figures were joining the German sergeant as he approached Dumbledore. A quick glance estimated that there were a good 4 or 5 dozen of them. He would have to fight this battle on the move. The most dangerous thing was to trapped, surrounded and simply be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Lifting his wand once more he began to stride quickly toward the approaching undead and raising his voice began to chant a spell so old its origins had been lost to mankind even during days of Merlin.