Chapter 24: Nicholas Flamel's Pensieve
Albus Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed hs eyes. It was three in the morning. That was how long it took for Severus to calm down after hearing about Lestrange's torture of Draco Malfoy. Now he just hoped that they had gotten through to Severus about not trying to go after Lestrange. Moody thought it was a great idea to inspire Severus to learn more about his newfound powers so that he would someday be able to use them on Lestrange when he winds up in Azkaban. But Albus thought sadly that it might not be for a long while that Lestrange will ever wind up there.
He took a pinch of Floo Powder, and tossed it into his hearth. "Nicholas?" he called quietly.
"Albus!" another man called from the other side of the hearth that Albus had contacted. "What are you doing up this late? Isn't it past your bedtime?" Nicholas simply loved to point out to Albus that he was indeed older than any other living being on this earth, so he'd poke fun at people like Albus, who appeared to be quite old, but ironically were still younger than he.
"Hmph! I hope I didn't wake you," Albus asked dryly.
"Oh, no! You know me..." he said as he waved his hand invitingly. "Come on in, Albus, before we get Ashwinders crawling out of my hearth..." Albus smiled, shook his head, and climed into his magical fire. He came out on the other end, to Nicholas Flamel's study. As always, Nicholas had his telescope pointed out the window, and an open notebook sat on the desk beside it. There were always vast numbers of battered quills and half-empty ink pots littering the study, and five bookcases with sagging shelves full of dusty old tomes that Nicholas had collected and had considered "must reads." The full moon shone in the opened window, which reminded Albus of something.
"Damn," he muttered aloud. "With all the commotion, I forgot completely about Remus! I hope everything is alright..."
"Talking to yourself, Albus? Don't tell me that you're getting Old-Timer's Disease, please!" he joked. Nicholas' blue eyes sparkled with merriment. He laughed at Albus' grave expression. "Now, now, don't you try that 'Headmaster Dumbledore' trick on me! I can recall when you were all of twenty years old, knocking at my door and haranguing me about your madcap ideas about Dragon's Blood!" Albus didn't reply exactly, but began working his jaw side to side. Nicholas had a very ageless quality thanks to the Elixir; one would not be able to tell whether he was thirty or forty based on just his looks. But when one looked into his eyes, eyes that had seen over six hundred years worth of wars, famines, and plagues, one could tell that he was far older than he appeared.
Which, actually, was why Albus came that evening. "Nicholas, I fear that there have been grave happenings at the school lately. It all started when a young man named Draco Malfoy wandered into out midst after travelling through a dark corridor and a mysterious vanishing oak door..." and with that, Albus bagan telling Nicholas the tale of Draco's mysterious journey into the past, his connection with the Order of the Phoenix, and Voldemort's appearance inside Hogwarts earlier that night.
"You've been busy with this little pip, Voldemort, haven't you? Order of the Phoenix? Why didn't you invite me?" Nicholas sniffed.
Albus brightened up. "Well," he drawled, "if you help me with my problem tonight, I'll make you an honorary member."
"What is it that you need at three-thirty in the morning, Albus?"
"Nicholas, have you ever attended a Wizarding Trial in your youth? More to the point, have you ever seen a Breaker before?"
Nicholas drew in his breath sharply. "A Breaker! Goodness, Albus, I know I must have, but it hasn't been for, oh, at least four hundred years. It's very dim in my mind, but that's because I must have put it in one of my Pensieves..." he rambled while walking over to a trick bookcase, which revealed a set of six small cauldrons. Each one was labelled according to the century each cauldron contained. "Hmm... I'd say we should look at the 1500's cauldron. Say, you haven't told me why you want to see a Breaker. I say, the whole thing, from what little I can recall without the Pensieve, that it was a ghastly business. Gives you the, er, how do you call it in this century, the hee-bee-gees?"
"Nicholas, get busy..." Albus reminded him dryly. Nicholas pulled out the 1500's cauldron and placed it on his desk. Then he took out his wand and began poking at the liquid. Albus looked in and the silvery gaseous liquid seemed to look like it hadn't been stirred in at least a hundred years. Which it possibly might not have been. At any rate, the strands began to surface. Nicholas prodded them one at a time. They clumped like overcooked spaghetti, and so Nicholas would work them apart before touching each one with his wand.
He would mutter about each memory, and Albus could very clearly hear him mumble several times, "Better not let Peri see that one!" "Why did I keep this one? Better to have just forgotten it..." Nicholas glared sharply at Albus. "This had better be important, Albus, to make me rememeber things that would have been better forgotten hundreds of years ago!" he snapped.
"I assure you, Nicholas, that this is a matter of the utmost importance. I must see a Breaker first-hand. The only person in existance that can help me with that would be you. Why let all of those precious memories go to waste?" he argued.
"Some things, like Breakers, are best forgotten." Nicholas isolated one strand. He pointed to it with his wand, and Albus could see the strand emerging from the liquid. Clinging to his wand, it looked like a long gray hair. "This is it. The very last time I saw a Breaker at work. His name was Icarus Hendreary. He's quite old in this memory, but I could remember him in his youth, as well. He and his father were both Breakers. But Icarus was the more powerful..." He handed the strand to Albus who would now take the strand back to Hogwart's, where he could study it in his own pensieve, rather than study it in Nicholas' pensieve, where that memory might get mixed up with other random ones that he had put in there.
"I thank you," Albus said, "and now, I must return to the school. Though the night grows very old, it is not over for me, I fear..." Nicholas' mouth tightened as Albus rose from the desk. "Until I return this to you, I bid you good night, or rather, good morning." With that, Albus Dumbleodre left by Floo Powder the same way he came there.
"I wonder... Could we have a new Breaker, after all these years? What is going on at that school of yours, Albus?" Nicholas wondered as he stared into the flames of his fireplace.
When Albus returned, he was grateful to find his office empty. He immediately prepared a goblet, which could be used to view one memory, with warm water. Gingerly, he dropped the strand from Nicholas' Penseive into the goblet. Then, he set it on his mantle. The memory would take a few moments to ripen so that he could view it. In the meantime, he sent for a house-elf from the kitchens to fetch him some hot chocolate.
The house-elf hadn't been gone for more than a few seconds when Madame Pomfrey appeared. "Oh, my dear Professor!" she gasped, "You really must get some rest!"
"Something must be distressing you besides my bedtime, Poppy. So, let's hear it," Albus sighed.
"I'm very concerned for Mr. Malfoy's emotional state," Poppy said. "I know that people like to tell victims of his kind to be strong and not let it get to them, but...he can't walk around like that. What I mean is, had he spoken sooner, I would have been able to aid his physical pain, and of course I have given him some remedy even after that, but, he needs emotional remedy as well."
"Your concerns are quite valid, Poppy," Albus nodded. "I think that in the morning, which is not terribly far off, we shall need to speak to someone at St. Mungo's. I think some more expert consultation may be in order, and I understand that there is a witch who specializes in helping people deal with the Cruciatus Curse and it's aftermath. But, let's give Mr. Malfoy some time to sleep first."
The house-elf emerged with Dumbledore's hot chocolate, and he nodded in appreciation as he took the steaming mug and lifted it to his lips. Poppy glared at him. "You'll never be able to sleep once you've filled your system with caffeine!" she protested.
"That's much the idea, Poppy," he answered, winking at her. He rose from his desk and took the goblet from his mantle. The water had turned silver, and images could be seen shimmering on the surface. It was ready for viewing. "If you will excuse me, Poppy, there was a memory that I managed to procure from Nicholas Flamel, and I fear I must not tarry. I have to see what his memory is."
"Very well, but if you don't get yourself to sleep immediately afterward, I shall be forced to drag you down to the Hospital Wing and tuck you into bed myself!" Poppy threatened, and then spun on her heel out the door. Albus chuckled to himself, and then sat down and brought his eyes down into the shimmering mists of the goblet, and seeing the events of over four centuries past in crystal clear detail...
The Wizarding Court was especially dark that day. Torches illuminated the hall, as they had always done, but somehow, the walls seemed ever darker than usual. There were many people in court that day; no doubt, a possible Breaking was a good draw. Albus paid special attention to the judge and the jury. None of them appeared to be wearing a collar, so he waited.
A prisoner, a wizard who by all outward appearances was quite clean-cut and even handsome, was led inside by two Dementors. Albus didn't understand; what were the Dementors doing there if they were not needed? He looked to his side, and Nicholas Flamel sat with Perinelle, holding her hand. "I hate when those Dementors come inside," Peri complained. "It makes the whole room so gloomy."
"Dearest, I fear that this entire business is going to get even more gloomy. We just have to keep in our minds what he did," Nicholas reminded her. Then, the proceedings began, and he fell silent.
"We are here today to hear the verdict in this case against Gavin Bingham. The jury has come to a verdict?" the judge confirmed.
"Indeed," one witch said as she stood to address him. Then she sat down with her other jurors.
"Very well, then. All those who vote 'Not Guilty' shall show their hands," he instructed them. Of course, as Albus had suspected, not one raised their hand. "All those who vote 'Guilty' shall show hands," the judge continued. Every one raised their right hand without hesitation. A great deal of hushed murmuring rose from the court, and the convicted prisoner struggled against his binds.
"You have been found guilty, Gavin Bingham, of using the Imperious Curse to gain favors from various females, both Muggle and Witch. As you have been convicted of using one of the Unforgivable Curses, not just once, but on numerous occasions, you shall be Broken and then sent to Azkaban for the remainder of your days." The judge said, amidst the prisoner's many loud protests of innocence.
"But Nicholas," Perinelle whispered, "what if he really is innocent?"
"The Breaker will be able to see it. I've seen it happen where juries have made mistakes, and the Breaker knew that the person was really innocent. Something to do with his aura, I think," Nicholas commented. Then, a very ominous hush fell on the court. A tall fellow, aged, with firey blue eyes and thick white hair, strode into the court. He was dressed very distinctively in a flowing black robe with white sleeves bordered with silver. Long lightning bolts adorned the lapels of the robes, and the man had a thin gold collar aroung his neck. Albus held his breath. There was no mistaking that this man was Icarus Hendreary.
He was handed a black wooden box with similar lighting bolts to his lapels. The convict began to moan in terror. Albus thought quickly that if he were really innocent, then he wouldn't be afraid, as the Breaker would be able to see his innocence.
That obviously was not the case here. Icarus eyed the prisoner, and then took a bright red jewel from the box. After a few silent seconds, the Breaker's lip curled, and the prisoner bellowed, struggling with all his might to break free. Even the Dementors retreated at that point. The room became even darker, if it was possible, or perhaps that was only due to the mood of the moment. The Breaker held the jewel in his hand, as if channeling the power throught the jewel rather than through a traditional wand, and his voice filled the room. "Rapist!" the voice hissed, and then, the prisoner began tossing his head back and forth so forcefully that he might have broken his neck. Albus could almost see something. He struggled to see what it was. Was it a red glow behind the eyes? The convict's head suddenly drooped, and he fell silent. Whatever the Breaker had done, it was over. The jewel was taken from the Breaker's hands immediately. Were there others in that room worried, Albus wondered.
For a brief second, the prisoner lifted his head. Albus had to blink, because the sight was so eerily familiar. Was that blood around his eyes, or was it a trick of his overtired mind? Unfortunately, Nicholas and Perinelle decided to leave, and so Albus didn't get a second chance to see the convict's eyes as he was dragged out of the court.
Albus came up for air, and grit his teeth. Was Gavin bleeding from the eyes or not? Or was he just thinking of Rachel Lestrange? It was nonsense, of course. Rachel Lestrange couldn't have been Broken. Severus was, until late in the evening, in a coma. He was still comatose when she died. And even if he were not, he couldn't have possibly known how to Break her...
"Malfoy..." Albus whispered suddenly. But that was surely impossible. There couldn't be two Breakers in Hogwart's midst, could there? The only one who could make any answers come about would now be Lily Evans. Albus frowned, looking down at his hot chocolate gone way cold by then. He'd have to question her as soon as possible. There would be no rest for the weary now.