A/N: Well, I'm back again – and you are all in for a special treat. Due to a very very very long week, I can no longer move – so I give you the longest chapter I have EVER written in ANY story. This will also be the only chapter I include elements from the book (which I browsed through in fifteen minutes), mainly because it's a pain to keep double-checking to make sure I'm not destroying the cannon. The timeline will be completely off since I delayed everything and moved others up.
Thanks again to all my reviewers, you all hold a special place in my heart
Disclaimer: Many parts of this chapter are an abridged or slightly altered recreations of the events occurring in The Prisoner of Azkaban by Rowling, and are not my own creations; I have merely used them for continuity and are not meant to be a presented as my own ideas.
Chapter 8 – Time and Wounds
There are few greater dreams of humanity than that of Avalon – where King Arthur sleeps awaiting the time of his return. True, Arthur is at rest but never again shall he return – his legacy passed on. And though humans may never see the fair shores of Avalon, it does not dim the brilliance of the dream and Avalon was bright indeed.
Will stood upon the edges of Avalon and looked upon it with longing. As the Watchman, it would be millennia – if ever – before he goes to his final rest. But he did not begrudge his brethren nor mentor their peace. They had spent centuries upon centuries earning their rest and the Youngest of the Old could only hope that one day he too would have earned this peace.
But now was not that moment, and he waited patiently for the two he knew would come. Sure enough, two figures appeared through the mist – Merriman and the Lady. Neither appeared surprised by the Old One's arrival, as they shouldn't; those in Avalon watched the events on Earth with interest and hope and sadness. Both of the Greatest of the Light new why their youngest had come to them.
"Greetings, Old One," Merriman said with a slight bow. Will returned it with a greeting of his own to Merriman, as well as the Lady.
"You are aware of why I am here," Will stated rather than asked.
"Yes, young Will."
"The laws of the High Magic cannot be changed – not with time, not with circumstance. That is why you encouraged me to accept the role as the Earthan, so that I may fight Voldemort without violating the laws. But that also means I must abide by the Law of Silence; if a wizard should discover the true nature of an Old One any and all means are to be used to erase that discovery. Dumbledore is too powerful to erase his memory cleanly, which leaves only one other option. I don't believe the Earth's best interests would be served by his death," Will said, looking at his elders hopefully – though knowing it was his duty, Will did not want anything to happen to the headmaster.
They exchanged a glance.
"You're words hold truth, Will Stanton, but the Law of Silence cannot be broken, even now," the Lady said gently. Will's face fell.
"Is there no way then?"
"No, there is a way…but it will be a dangerous gamble. Though Bran Davies waived his birthright, his son has not. Will Davies can be brought into his power as the Pendragon, and thus it is his prerogative as a Lord of High Magic to confide in his advisors – who are exempt from the Law. However, this will mean invoking High Magic, as well as Wild Magic – both of which have their own agendas outside that of the Light."
Thinking hard, Will looked into the mists of time. Chanting a spell of enlightenment, the Old One watched as images began to appear in the mist.
Will didn't recognize the room but he did recognize the woman and the man; it was Professor Trelawney, the divination teacher, and Dumbledore. The Old One had the misfortune of having her, and so did Harry; though the boy was finally getting over the trauma of having his death predicted. Even though the professor was obviously a terrible seer, it had taken Will some time to calm the boy down.
But, Will, what if she's right? I don't want to die…Everyone dies eventually; it is how one spends their time alive that truly matters. To predict someone's death is to never be wrong, but I would like to see her try to predict how you live. Only then will I give credence to her 'abilities'.
True, the Old One had lied – not everyone dies. But what disturbed the Old One was the power he felt within Trelawney, hidden deeply but there. He watched as the professor gave her very first true prophecy.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…
Just as Will bore a mark as the result of evil, so did Harry. But where Will had been given the knowledge needed to fight, the boy wizard was in the dark concerning his destiny. Dumbledore was both protecting and using the boy – something that reminded Will of the Light.
The mists continued to shift, and Will watched as a rat turn into a man. The man knelt before another, whose evil emanations could only make him Voldemort; in a hush he whispered words that tasted of betrayal. The images changed again, and the rat-man stood beside a new man – a dog replacing the man momentarily -- as well as a couple. They were discussing hiding places when another abrupt shift occurred; this time the couple were dead and Voldemort was pointing his wand at a baby.
A betrayal…but what happened to the dog-man?The mists didn't answer the Old One's unspoken question. But the two who watched did.
"His name is Sirius Black, and he is a prisoner in Azkaban – the wizard's worst punishment. They use soulless creatures known as Dementors to keep their prisoners hopeless and without magic as they literally suck the magic and happiness out of them. He was arrested for the betrayal of the Potter's and a supporter of Voldemort," Merriman informed his former student with great distaste. The Wizarding World's use and creation of Dementors was one of the reason's the Law of Silence was strictly enforced.
From the look in his student's eyes, Merriman could tell Will had made a decision.
"You have come to a decision, Will?"
"Yes, I have."
***************************************
Sirius Black stared at the wall he had long since memorized. The small cell held little light, the sensory deprivation forcing the prisoners to embrace their misery. Without their magic, and with Dementors standing guard, there was no hope for an escape.
While the other prisoners fell into the abyss of their own minds, Black remained sane. He knew he was innocent, and that thought brought nothing but agony and was left untouched by the Dementors. It was his fault that Peter Pettigrew was chosen to know the Potter's hiding place, his fault that his best friend's died. Now, while he wallowed in prison with his barely kept sanity, somewhere the 'dead' rat was waiting for his master to return.
A light filled the doorway and Black's pupils dilated – unused to the amount of light. A figure stood in the doorway, and he could barely make out the features of a boy.
"Harry?" Black asked in a tremulous voice.
"No…but you'll see him soon," a gentle voice carried across the small distance. The boy knelt before the dazed figure, happy to see the man was still sane – and even more surprising was the thread of magic running through him. Reaching down, the Old One picked the man up. It was a ridiculous sight; a boy of eleven carrying a grown man but no one laughed as they walked through the halls.
No Dementors blocked their path, staying clear from the boy. Even for beings without sight, the brilliance from the light of an Old One was blinding. And so they stood silent as they watched the two pass.
***************************************
"Ron, have you seen Will around anywhere?" Harry Potter asked, sitting at the Gryffindor table. His two best friends shook their heads, and Harry wondered where the younger boy had gotten. Ever since Fawkes had come flying into Common Room yesterday, Harry hadn't been able to find Will. The other boy often disappeared for hours but this was the longest yet.
"Sorry, Harry, but listen to this! It says here in the Daily Prophet that the murderer Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. Harry, this is the man that betrayed your parents to You-know-who! He's probably going to come back and finish…OW!" Ron exclaimed, rubbing his swore arm and glaring at Hermione.
"Don't worry, Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to you while you're here at Hogwarts," Hermione reassured Harry, glaring at Ron who shrugged helplessly – still rubbing his arm. Harry knew that they both meant well, but if his last two years at Hogwarts were any indication…
This was the longest he had gone without having his life in danger!
The doors to the Great Hall swung open and Minister Cornelius Fudge strolled in, followed by another man and several hooded figures. Harry stared hard at the man walking beside Fudge; the man looked very familiar, even though he knew he had never met him before. With a sudden realization, the boy wizard realized that the man was the spitting image of his friend Will Davies!
"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Cornelius?" a pleasant voice sounded through out the suddenly quiet hall. Appearing from nowhere, as he was apt to do, Dumbledore walked towards the Minister.
"That is something I wish to discuss in private, Headmaster," Fudge replied pompously – secretly enjoying the power and mystery surrounding his task. Unnoticed by Fudge, the man beside him smirked softly at his companion's theatrics. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow thoughtfully and turned to Harry.
"Shouldn't Mr. Potter also attend this discussion, since he is affected by the matter at hand?" Dumbledore asked mildly; Harry started at the news that whatever was going on involved him. Fudge paled and looked to Potter, for the first time noticing his presence.
"Ah, Mr. Potter…" Fudge said nervously, and stepped forward to shake the boy's hand. The movement forward caused his 'guards' to move as well -- Harry to turn his attention to them for the first time. When they had entered the hall, Harry had felt the temperature of the room drop – assuming it was from cold air entering from outside. But as he looked at the hooded figures, he realized that was not the case…
The cold swept through Harry and his last thought before he blacked out was to wonder who was screaming…
*******************************
Dumbledore sat in his office, along with Cornelius Fudge and his companion. The headmaster looked at the man curiously; with Harry's fainting spell and assuring his safe arrival to Poppy, he hadn't been introduced. While he had been 'informed' of the arrival of the Dementors, though he wasn't happy about their presence, Dumbledore did not know the purpose of this man's presence.
Recognizing the curious look, Fudge turned to his companion.
"As you know, I had to inform the Prime Minister of Sirius Black's escape – as well as the establishment of the hotline, he also offered the help of the Specialized Crime Squad…"
"Specialized Crime Squad…the muggle agency that handles situations concerning the Wizarding World before the proper authorities can be dispatched?"
"Exactly, this is Bran Davies, one of the top detectives of this unit and he will be operating here as an mediator between the Prime Minister and the Ministry of Magic."
"Bran Davies…any relation to Will Davies, a student that attends classes here?" Dumbledore asked thoughtfully, recognizing something unusual about the man before him…besides his colouring.
"Yes, he's my son. He's spoken of you in glowing terms, Headmaster," Bran said, smiling softly at the mention of his son. His face turned serious as he considered the situation.
"Right now, we have no idea as to how Sirius Black managed to make his escape and at this moment there hasn't been any sightings. Our best bet is that he'll come to Hogwarts in an attempt to reach Harry Potter…though I am loathed to use a thirteen years old boy as bait." Bran glanced sideways at Fudge, a point that was obviously a sour one between the two of them.
"Very well, but you know my feelings on this matter," Dumbledore said. Fudge glared at the old wizard.
"It doesn't matter what your feelings are, the Ministry has voted and this is what we have decided. Good day, gentleman," and with that theatrical statement, Fudge left. The two remaining men smiled wryly at each other, amused by the third's exit.
"Well, I should go as well and see if there have been any updates in the case," Bran said, rising to leave. He stopped when the old wizard gestured for him to remain sitting.
"There is another matter that I feel we need to discuss."
******************************************
It hadn't taken long for news of Harry's fainting spell to go through the school, and Malfoy took particular joy in reminding the Boy-who-lived that he fainted at the mere sight of a Dementor.
As the boy sat down for in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, he shuddered in remembrance of the absence of happiness he had felt when the Dementor had looked at him. It was even harder to forget with the Slytherins mocking him constantly, or everyone else asking if he was all right. In fact, the only person who didn't know was Will.
Harry looked over at the chair Will usually sat in, still empty after three days. The professors had searched the entire school, as well as the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade. But they had found no trace.
Not that he had expected they would, Will was a master at disappearing. But what disturbed Harry the most was the lack of worry from the other students; Ron and Hermione rarely noticed the younger boy's absences and Davies had been acting strange lately whenever Will's name was mentioned. It was as if Will had never existed! Even the teacher's weren't particularly worried, except for Dumbledore.
Professor Lupin entered the room and the class quieted. The professor had quickly become Harry's favourite; his classes were always interesting and fun, as well as informative.
"Since we'll be having Dementors roaming the campus, I figured it was time I showed you a spell to defeat your greatest fears," Lupin said, and his head turned towards the door – as if having heard something. The class looked curiously, wondering what had drawn their teacher's attention. Within moments, the door opened to reveal Will.
"Sorry for being late, professor," Will said amicably, as if he hadn't been missing for the last three days. Lupin grinned wolfishly, and gestured for the boy to take his seat. Harry felt a huge grin sweep over his face at the return of his friend. The younger boy gave him a wink as he sat down.
"As I was about to say before Will's miraculous arrival – follow me please." The professor left the room quickly and the students rushed out of their desks to follow. They quickly came to the staff room door, and entered. Inside was Professor Snape, who sneered at the newcomers.
"So I see you've decided to follow through with your foolish idea – make sure to have Neville as far from it as possible or you're all likely to be killed." Snape stormed out the room, pausing only slightly at the appearance of Will. Will smiled at the man warmly, who stared for a moment before shutting the door behind him.
Neville's ears burned bright red, and Lupin gestured for him to come forward. He led him to the back of the room to the storage closest, which began to make a banging noise.
"Now behind this door is a Bogart, can anyone tell me what that is? Hermione?"
"A type of shape-shifter."
"Exactly, five points for Gryffindor. A bogart changes into the form of a person's worst fear. There are two defences against a bogart; one is to be in a group when you meet one. Why is that? Harry?"
"Because then it won't know which shape to take?"
"Right. The second is to laugh; laughter is the bogart's greatest weakness. The charm riddikulus forces the bogart to shift into a shape that you find amusing; a simple spell that requires force of mind. Now I want each of you to think about what you fear the most and what you could do to it to make it amusing."
Harry shut his eyes and thought about Voldemort. But his mind took hold of the image and changed it to that of the Dementor – again, the ice-cold feeling swept through his body. Harry opened his eyes to see Will with a speculative look on his face. He was staring at the door curiously, as if wondering what it was that appear before him.
Lupin called for everyone to stand back, except Neville, and opened the door.
The bogart turned its gaze to Neville and promptly turned into Professor Snape; in a stuttering voice Neville shouted 'riddikulus' and the bogart-Snape was suddenly dressed in woman's clothes to the amusement of the class. One by one the students were called forth. Finally it was Will's turn.
Without fear, Will walked towards the bogart. The creature, confused, stared at the little boy. Its shape began to change slowly, unlike the rapid transformations before it. Even Lupin watched in amazement as the bogart slowly tried to recreate the boy's worst fear. Will, for his part, stood calmly before the changing creature.
The bogart began to become blacker and blacker; an abyss where no light existed. It developed no specific shape, becoming an amoebic like creature. Looking at it, Will faced his greatest fear.
That one day he would lose the ability to care, to lose hope – to grow tired of his existence.
It was a fear every Old One had to face as the centuries passed and all their loved ones died. The abyss grew and distantly Will could hear Lupin yelling for him to use the charm. But that charm wouldn't work against this fear…
Will walked resolutely up to the creature and stared into the abyss. He saw himself reflected there and did not flinch. Slowly, a light appeared at the centre of the abyss and grew stronger. The light shown so brightly that the students had to cover their eyes – but Will stared, refusing to blink. In an explosion of light, the bogart disappeared into a pile of dust.
Everyone stared in shock at Will, who was breathing hard – looking down at the remains of the bogart. No matter what happens in the future, Will was and forever would be a creature of the Light.
It was what he was.
For better, or for worse.
TBC
A/N: Finally, done! There's probably tons of errors but I'm finally through it – and I only got half of the stuff in there that I wanted to! The rest will be in the next chapter to review for more ::wink::