By: TheGreyLady (immaculatecalypso@hotmail.com)
Chapter 12~ Strangling the Stars
"Ahh… now. The only question is where I should begin," Flamel said as he sipped on the tea he had poured for the group. His jovial face stilled for a moment as he tried to decide exactly where to start.
Oh no, Saint Nick… there are far more questions than that.
"In my personal opinion, Nicholas," Snape said, adapting his lecture voice, "I think your knowledge of the whereabouts of Albus would be a nice start."
The old man sighed and said, "In all honesty, I had hoped you would arrive sooner but, be that as it may, it may not be too late."
"Too late?" Hermione questioned, fear's spindly fingers establishing their hold on her.
"No, child. Not too late yet. We are, however, 'cutting it close' as you youngsters say. Albus is here. He is, unfortunately, incredibly ill from a curse cast by his nemesis shortly before you arrived at the final battle.
"I've never seen a curse like it in all my years. He came here, months ago, shaking and quivering like a babe. Everything I've done to save him has all amounted to naught. I hoped that the clues would lead you to me sooner."
"Clues?" Hermione said, fear giving way to anger, "What clues? We found the pattern on accident!"
"My wife's epitaph, young lady," Flamel said, sounding every bit of his 673 years. "I was certain that would lead anyone straight to me."
Hermione felt the blood drain from her face…
"There is one more star in the sky tonight"
How could she have missed something that was so incredibly obvious?
"Apparently," Ron cut in, "you were a bit too subtle."
"Why didn't you simply owl someone?" Snape asked. "While I haven't been officially available for quite some time, Minerva has been. Many people would have killed to know that Albus is alive."
"Because I feared any direct communication would be intercepted by people who would rather have him dead. If you think you're the only people who have drawn a line between Albus and myself, you are sorely mistaken."
"Why haven't you told the Ministry where Dumbledore is? Surely they can help," Harry said.
"As you all should know, organized government is inherently corrupt… not that there is a viable alternative." The old man sighed, "Sadly, I don't know of any conventional methods with which to save him. Senility has rendered this old mind significantly less creative. If I were to take him to the Ministry, well, the few ideas I've come up with won't be used. In any case, Albus insisted upon leaving the Ministry ignorant."
"Why would he do that?" Hermione asked, confusion gripping her.
"In all honesty, he was afraid of an assassination attempt on his weakened body… hardly an unrealistic fear." At the questioning glances cast by Hermione and her peers, Nicholas continued, "Albus has been a thorn in the side of the Ministry ever since he began teaching at Hogwarts. There have been attempts upon his life before, but he was readily able to defend himself."
Hermione felt the foundations of her ideal Albus Dumbledore begin to shake. Surely no curse could bring her Dumbledore to stand on death's doorstep and knock impatiently. The look on Flamel's face told her otherwise as he rose to lead them up the winding staircase.
Even the pictures on the wall remained in silent deference to the man she knew was at the apex of the stair. The group mindlessly followed Flamel until he came to a door. "Be quiet," he said. "He needs his rest." With that, Flamel opened the door.
The room was silent save for the sounds of wet, labored breathing. A soft scent permeated the room… antiseptic and… something. It was hauntingly familiar but she couldn't place it. Knowing that everything she'd ever thought depended on it, Hermione couldn't help but look. There was Albus Dumbledore -- friend, mentor, and nearly god-like in his abilities – lying almost dead on the bed. Helpless.
What did you expect? She asked herself, That this was supposed to be some kind of "Rite of Passage" that he'd envisioned for us? That everything was suddenly going to be okay? Hermione bit back the tears that threatened to fall. She had naïvely thought just that. She'd wanted so desperately for Dumbledore to have some sort of crazy plan in mind for them. Even looking at him, she couldn't help but think that soon he would pop up and ask if anyone wanted a candy.
Though her eyes conveyed the scene as being very real, her mind simply didn't want to believe it.
Harry and Ron rushed to Albus' side as she stood back, trying to force her mind to accept this cold reality. She felt Severus place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She couldn't tear herself from the doorway… couldn't take the steps that Ron and Harry had taken in order to make this ordeal factual. They'd come so far only to have their only hope torn from them by some malicious and uncaring god.
Severus' hand dropped from her shoulder and went to the small of her back, nudging her forward. She knew this was just as difficult for him if not more so. She put on a brave face and stepped forward. When she reached the bed, she saw exactly what had happened to the man. His eyes were sunken in with dark black circles acting as a startling contrast to his pure white skin.
The waxy skin, though she had always remembered Dumbledore's wrinkles, seemed to be falling from his face and gathering in soft folds around his ears. His chest rose and fell erratically but she still found it reassuring. They were late, that much was obvious, but Flamel didn't think that it was too late.
Somehow, Hermione had to take assurance in this doddering old fool's hope.
"What's happening to him?" Ron asked quietly.
"You've all had a nasty shock for today. I'll show you later."
Hermione too a shuddering breath and replied, "No. Show us now. We've been in the dark for too long."
Flamel sighed and stepped forward to pull the sheet away from Dumbledore's torso. The familiar stench suddenly assaulted her nostrils caused to her reel back. Her eyes began to tear up… she knew that smell.
It had been hanging in the room like an unwelcome visitor when she'd been taken to the Ministry to identify the bodies of her parents.
Oh God…
She forced her eyes upon the quivering figure on the bed. In the center of Albus' chest, a festering black hole had eaten through the skin. Hermione could see his ribs corroding away and his lungs withering with decomposition. Though she felt sick, she was unable to tear her eyes from the sight before her.
"Every salve… every potion… every spell that I know has been unable to stop it from growing. Severus," Flamel, eyes alight with unshed tears, said as he turned to the man hundreds of years his junior, "I need you to help me build another Philosopher's Stone."
* * *
"What's the situation with the Stone?" Hermione asked when Snape came to her chambers later that night. She'd been in her room reading and waiting for Severus to come and give her an analysis of progress… if there had been any.
"The old man doesn't remember exactly how to make it," he said bitterly as he removed his jacket and sat on the bed. "Hopefully, between the two of us we can recreate the stone."
"You can," she said. Not because she thought it was true but because she needed to believe it. She moved to him and began to rub his tense shoulders. "Is there anything we can do?"
He groaned softly and said, "Aside from what you're doing right now, no." Slumping forward, he added, "Nicholas says that Albus comes in and out of coherent consciousness. The best thing you can do is ask him questions while he's awake."
He took a sharp breath as she began to focus on a particularly painful knot. She would have asked him to remove his shirt but felt that would be inviting him into territory best left uncharted. She did, however, take pleasure in being able to run her hands over his back and shoulders. From what she had seen of him, he had a lean physique but it startled her nevertheless to feel all of the muscle he had. She kneaded the muscles until they relaxed slightly. Her hands were beginning to hurt.
"We should get some rest," she said, pulling her hands from his shoulders. "We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow."
He nodded and leaned back onto the pillows. She laid herself next to him, letting her head rest on his chest. Tonight, even in each other's arms, she knew there would be nightmares.
* * *
The next morning, Severus went to the basement to work again with Flamel. She, Harry, and Ron were left with little to do. When Dumbledore woke, a bell would alert them. Until then, they found themselves incredibly bored. Hermione settled into an overstuffed chair and perused one of Flamel's texts. Harry and Ron opted for a game of Exploding Snap. Ron always carried a deck of cards with him. For the first time since she knew him, it was helpful.
The book, entitled "The Dark Reign," should have been called "Professor Binns' Lecture Series- Part Eight." She'd read potion formulas that were more interesting. The text itself droned on, completely devoid of active verbs. Curious, she flipped to the first page:
Eldon Binns
Binns? Hardly a coincidence, she thought. Looking at the publication date, she determined that Eldon was probably an ancestor who had passed the curse of total dullness to his descendent. It was an awful legacy.
She looked thorough it anyway, hoping to find some sort of allusion to the room in the Ministry. No such luck. She could actually consult Professor Binns, now that she thought about it… but that would mean having to listen to him lecture for a good few hours. She didn't have the time or the stamina to sit through any more of Binns' lectures.
As she moved to reshelf the book, the trio was startled by a ring. They rushed up the staircase and into Dumbledore's room. The man remained lying upon the bed but his eyes were open, looking around at his surroundings as though he had never seen them before.
"Headmaster?" Harry called as he approached.
"James," Albus' weak voice replied, "How is your son? Is he walking yet? We've…" the old man coughed violently, "We've already had him added to the school registry."
Harry fell silent and pale. Hermione piped in, mustering the most cheerful voice she could manage, "Headmaster, how are you feeling?"
"Oh, Miss Granger…" his words were weak and labored, "How is your apprenticeship going?"
"I took a year off, sir." She replied. "I'll be starting my apprenticeship in September."
"Ahh… I don't remember that."
"It's fine, sir." She knew Dumbledore was delirious. He had been the man to encourage her to take a year off for healing.
"I remember your first year. You came in with James, Ronald, Lily, and Harry… and Molly and Arthur… After you met Sirius and Remus… oh, you were trouble, the lot of you. Constantly breaking rules… but I knew, James…" Dumbledore halted suddenly, his breathing became more erratic as he surveyed his visitors with bewilderment. The memories of his great mind were becoming muddled together.
"Of course we were," Hermione replied, letting her gentle tones placate the older man. Taking his hand and nodding with as much enthusiasm as she could manage, she said, "Severus is here, too."
"That's good. I worry about him. He steals books from the Restricted Section… and his father… his father is… unkind to him."
"We know, sir." Ron added, taking on Hermione's pacifying tone. "You need your rest."
"I know," Dumbledore coughed. "We've another Sorting Ceremony tomorrow."
Ron strode over to Hermione and whispered, "Harry is going to snap. Get him out of here. I'll let you know if Dumbledore starts making sense."
She turned to examine Harry as Albus rambled on about the adventures they'd had with people she'd never attended school with. Harry's eyes glowed with unshed tears and his fisted hands shook noticeably. He'd never really gotten over the bitterness of losing his loving parents and being raised by painfully indifferent relatives. She suspected that when he'd learned more about his parents, it had only aggravated the matter.
He'd had his dream family… and lost it before he was old enough to appreciate how wonderful that could be.
Now he was being confused with the father he'd never had… the father who would have been there… the man who had married the woman who had borne him… who had in turn willingly sacrificed her life so that Harry could continue his. She couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult this was. Albus had always conducted his dealings involving Harry with kid-gloves and was now too disoriented to continue with such delicate handling.
Ron continued, pressing his deck of cards into her open hand, "There's also a chess set downstairs. Just distract him for now. We'll talk to him later."
She nodded and walked to Harry, telling him that Ron was going to sit with Albus until the stricken man fell asleep. Harry nodded absently as she took his hand.
The scarlet red, crescent-moon indentations on his hand did not escape her nor did the slight red tint staining the tips of his nails… from where he'd drilled them into his hands in a futile effort to remain strong. Oh, Harry…she thought, I'm so sorry…
They bid their good-days to Albus. As they walked to the door, she heard Albus call, "How are your parents, Harry?"
Hermione felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She brought her hand to Harry's shoulder and squeezed it in a futile effort to soothe him. He took several deep, shaking breaths as she felt his shoulder tense with resolve. Her teary eyes met Ron's and they shared a moment that said, "I would have died before I let something this terrible happen to him."
Harry turned and looked back at the disoriented old man with a tone that belied what she and Ron knew what afflicting him. "They're fine, Headmaster." He said sadly, his eerie final words escaping in a harsh whisper, "They're fine."
Author's Notes- Wow, you guys really do read these things. I'd like to start by saying that it wasn't my birthday on Thursday. I was just using that as a sort of exclamation (you know *singsong voice* "Go Me! Go Me! It's my birthday" (probably should have added "Not for real, though.") In any case, thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. I did have one in January. And it was a very happy birthday indeed. I'll make it a point to remember that a lot of exclamations of that nature don't translate well into text. Hopefully, the rest of the story won't suffer from the same affliction…
Next… I've received several notes asking me about Disturbances ("Is it going to be completed?" "Why aren't you working on it?" I'll answer these the best that I can. Yes, Disturbances will be completed… it has not been abandoned. Yes, I am still working on it. Keep in mind that Mephistopheles and Disturbances are, in my mind, night and day. It's damn near impossible-- in my mind-- to write the two simultaneously. I've come up with a good bit of material for Disturbances but none of it seemed to fit. Disturbances quickly became a much darker piece, which isn't true to the nature of the story. I'd rather publish a good chapter of Disturbances than a mediocre one.
In a secondary defense, while I was writing Disturbances I was updating once a week/once in a while. Compared to that, I'm updating this story with the tenacity of a rabbit in heat. This story nailed me and I feel the need to finish this before returning to Disturbances. After this story, I promise that no other "side-projects" will be undertaken until Disturbances is completed. Scout's honor (even though I was never a scout.)
Thankees to-
sweetevangeline- You're welcome for being added to the update list (lots of peoples now!) Thank YOU for the lovely review!
Alynna Lis Eachann- I kinda thought the same thing. Flamel, that ungrateful prick. Thanks for the review!
lee74- ;) Thanks!
risi- This chapter answers a whole bunch of the questions… and, uhhh… sorry about the whole Birthday thing.