The Riddle of Jim Lillian
Part Eight: Harry's Tale
Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
WARNING: Major Character Deaths
Part Eight Summary: Harry and Dumbledore are trapped in a corner by a group of Death Eaters. Harry has an epiphany regarding the prophesy.
June 5th, 1998 (the day of the Final Battle):
Harry watched in horror as the Headmaster crumpled to the floor. Harry dashed forward and grabbed his mentor by the shoulders and dragged him to safety behind the statue. He absently noted how dragging Dumbledore's body was very similar to the time Harry was a young boy and his Aunt Petunia forced him to drag a bag that was twice as large as he was, full of dried leaves and twigs across the yard.
"I think I got him," Harry heard one of the Death Eaters say as he propped the Headmaster behind the statue.
"Fine then, you stick your head out and if the old man doesn't blow it off, we'll believe you," hissed back another Death Eater.
Harry looked on helplessly as the dark stain on Dumbledore's robes grew. He saw Dumbledore's face become white as a ghost.
"P-Professor…" Harry mumbled. "Please, Professor, don't die."
Harry jumped up as Dumbledore coughed.
"I don't plan on dying just yet, Harry." A tiny smile appeared on the old man's face. Dumbledore then coughed up a bit of blood.
"Sir, I have to get you to the hospital ward," Harry said as he quickly glanced around the statue and noticed that the Death Eaters were still hiding.
"No, Harry, I will be fine," Dumbledore replied and put a blood covered hand on Harry's arm. "We need to get you out of here. You need to get to safety."
Dumbledore raised his hand and a flash of fire illuminated the corridor. Harry felt something land on his shoulder and saw the beautiful phoenix, Fawkes. In an instant, he felt all the fear that had been plaguing him disappear. Fawkes could bypass the anti apparation wards in Hogwarts and teleport. The phoenix could transport everyone out of the castle. Harry, the Professor, and the girls could escape and be safe.
But then, Harry felt another slight nudge on his scar.
"I can't leave, Professor," Harry said and looked into Dumbledore's eyes. "It's time. The prophesy needs to be fulfilled today, one way or the other."
Dumbledore saw the finality in Harry's eyes.
"I had hoped for more time," Dumbledore said sadly, "I had plans that needed to be finalized."
Harry noticed for the first time that Dumbledore's wand had been broken in the short battle.
"Professor, I don't have a wand, it was destroyed." Harry said. "I can't get past the Death Eaters or face Voldemort without my wand."
"It was destroyed by the spy?"
"Yes, by…" Harry attempted to say his friend's name but found that his mouth had gone dry and a single tear fell from his eye.
"I am truly sorry, Harry," the Headmaster said as he, too, began to cry softly. "Jealously can make people do rash and terrible things."
Harry wiped the tear away from his face. There was no time for this. If he made it through the day, he would cry for Ron and their lost friendship.
"I can't face Voldemort without a wand," Harry repeated. "And I don't think he would be cordial enough to lend me one."
"Seeing as how you and Voldemort had brother wands that would cancel each other out, I had believed for some time that Tom would want to separate you from your wand and leave you defenseless. That is why I took a rather desperate measure," Dumbledore said as he pulled a bent and broken red feather from his robes.
The feather felt oddly familiar to Harry, as if he was connected to it.
"That's the core to my wand?" Harry said with wide, disbelieving eyes. "That's my core?"
"Yes and no," Dumbledore said. "Yes, it is the core to your wand. But it is not your core.
"Centuries ago, wands were used only by weaker wizards, ones who needed the wand in order to perform the simplest of spells. A stronger wizard would need one only to perform the more difficult spells. Witches and wizards would use their wands to help themselves tap into their own magical cores to perform these spells. But over time, we became too dependent upon our crutches. We found ourselves tapping into the core of our wands to perform all magic instead of the other way around. Soon, even the most elementary of spells could not be preformed without the use of a wand."
"If the old muggle lover wasn't hurt, he would have attack us by now," Harry heard Lucius Malfoy say from behind his own hiding spot with the other Death Eaters. "Montague, McWilliams, go and get the boy."
"But a few of us over the centuries have shown an aptitude for 'wand-less' magic," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the Death Eater. "You are one of those people, Harry."
"Why do I have to do it? Make one of the new recruits do it," one of the Death Eaters complained.
"If you don't do it, I'll kill you myself!" Malfoy hissed.
"But, sir, I can't do wand-less magic," Harry said, "not consciously."
"Harry, I removed your wand's core last school year, during the Halloween Ball; remember that time you let me hold your wand for you?" Dumbledore said with a triumphant smile. "You have been doing very advanced spell work, including a magnificent Patronus, with just a simple stick for over a year and a half now."
Harry recalled all of the spells, curses, and hexes that he had performed over nineteen months. All of the N. E. W. T.-level Charms, Transfigurations, and Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons he had taken over the past year and a half. He felt a surge of power course through his body as he realized that he did it without a wand.
Harry's knees shook slightly as he stood up and stepped out from behind the statue.
"It's the boy!" one of the two Death Eaters standing out in the open called out.
Harry raised his hand and pointed his index finger at the Death Eater.
"Stupefy!" Harry said and his heart sank as nothing happened.
"You need a wand to be able to do that, boy," the Death Eater mocked. The other five Death Eaters came out from hiding and began to circle Harry.
"You gave us quite a chase, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said.
"I think we should take out our frustration on his hide," the Death Eater whom Harry was pointing at said. "Our Master said not to kill him, but he didn't say the boy needed to be in one piece now did he? Come on Potter, it will be like a little game. Let's see how long you can stand up to the Cruciatus."
'Remember Harry, the wand would tap into your magical core to perform magic, not the other way around,' Dumbledore's voice sounded in Harry's head.
"Just stun him," Malfoy ordered. "I don't want to risk killing him and earning The Master's ire with your little game."
"We might not be permitted to kill the boy," the Death Eater who Harry was pointing at said. "But the Dark Lord said nothing about the blood-traitors and mudblood."
A strange thrumming sensation, very similar to when Harry first held his wand, ran through his body.
"STUPEFY!" Harry screamed and a bright red bolt erupted from his empty hand. The bolt slammed into the Death Eater's chest. The unknown man was thrown back violently as if an invisible train hit him square in the chest. His body flew a dozen feet backwards and banged into the stonewall. The Death Eater's body slowly slid down the wall leaving a large bloodstain on the stones.
Harry stared dumbly at his right hand, shocked at what he had done. Not just the fact that he preformed magic consciously without a wand, but at the sheer power that was behind it. The majority of the Death Eaters were doing the same thing. Lucius Malfoy was the first to recover from the shock of seeing Harry cast a powerful stunning spell without a wand; he launched a cutting hex at Harry.
"PROTEGO!" Harry shouted a little too late. The majority of the hex was blocked by Harry's shield, but the beginning part of Malfoy's spell was not stopped. A deep gash was cut across Harry's right palm.
Harry shouted out in pain as he gripped his bloodied hand.
"What are you waiting for, fools!" Malfoy shouted. "Get him!"
A tall, thin Death Eater leveled his wand at Harry and shouted, "CRUCIO!"
Harry deftly rolled out of the curse's path. He ignored the pain from his hand as he thought to himself that he would not be able to protect the people that he loved if these Death Eaters stopped him. With a wave of his hand, Harry threw a Banishing Charm at the one who had tried to use the Cruciatus on him. The Death Eater flew through the air as if he was a rag doll thrown by a child. His body made a sickening crunching sound as it was flattened against the corridor wall.
A Death Eater leaned out from behind a nearby suit of armor and shot a blue curse at Harry, narrowly missing the young man. Harry remembered his classes on Advanced Transfiguration and one lesson in particular: "Animating the Inanimate". Harry muttered an incantation and animated the suit of armor. With a sound of creaking metal, the suit sprung to life. At Harry's mental command, the suit's gauntlets grabbed the Death Eater's hands and began to squeeze. The Death Eater let out a blood curdling scream as all the bones in his hands were ground into dust. Harry commanded the suit to put the screaming Death Eater into a head lock.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" the fourth Death Eater screamed. Harry's mind raced through his memories trying to think of ways to block the Killing Curse. The only way of stopping that particular curse was to block it with a solid object, much like Dumbledore had done when he fought with Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic, during Harry's fifth year. Harry summoned the closest solid object to block the curse without his mind realizing what that object was. Unfortunately for the fifth Death Eater, that closest solid object was him. The masked villain flew in front of Harry just in time to receive the deadly bolt of green magic. His lifeless body crumpled to the floor in front of Harry.
"Damned fool!" Malfoy spat at the fourth Death Eater. "We cannot kill the boy! The Master has forbidden us."
"But he is kicking our arses!" the fourth Death Eater argued with Malfoy.
With a wave of his hand, Harry ordered the animated suit of armor to charge at the two remaining Death Eaters. With the one Death Eater still tucked under one of its arms, the suit charged at Malfoy and the fourth Death Eater. The fourth Death Eater squealed in shock as a metal arm wrapped around his waist. The suit picked up the Death Eater and continued its charge at Malfoy.
Malfoy leveled his wand at the approaching suit of armor and shouted, "REDUCTO!"
The suit of armor was torn to shreds in an explosion that rocked the corridor. Bits of metal shrapnel ripped though the two Death Eaters that had been held by the suit. Their blood coated the walls of the ancient castle.
Malfoy turned and pointed his wand at Harry and bellowed, "CRUCIO!"
Harry ducked out of the way, and threw a hex at Malfoy who waved his wand and called out, "PROTEGO!" A glowing magical shield appeared before the last Death Eater, and Harry's hex bounced harmlessly off of it.
"I am not some wet behind the ears new recruit, boy," Malfoy said from behind the protection of his shield. "I have been dueling greater wizards than you since before you were ever even pushed out of that mudblood bitch you would have called mother."
Harry gritted his teeth in anger and clenched his fists. His nails dug into the wound on his right palm.
"Shut up!" Harry hissed.
"Is talking about you mother a touchy subject Potter? Or just mudbloods in general?" Malfoy said as the heat and anger rose up in Harry. "You do know that you will lose, don't you? If you are fortunate, The Dark Lord will kill you before we torture your mudblood whore."
'He's just trying to goad you,' a voice said in Harry's head. 'Malfoy is trying to get a rise out of you so you can slip up.'
Harry took a deep calming breath while staring into Malfoy's cold, pale eyes. The young man unclenched his fist and felt warm, sticky blood trickle down his fingers. He raised and pointed his bloodied hand at Malfoy.
"I don't know how you are doing magic without a wand boy, but it doesn't matter," Malfoy said smugly from behind his translucent shield. "Only an Unforgivable Curse can break through my shields, and I know for fact from my sister in law, that you can't cast them correctly. You don't have what it takes to do them properly."
Harry remembered that day when he tried, unsuccessfully, to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange. He remembered how she told him he had to enjoy inflicting pain to cast it correctly.
Harry was proud of the fact that he couldn't enjoy the pain of others, that he wasn't some sadistic psycho. And he was going to show this pompous git that he didn't need to be.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shouted with all of his might. A blindingly bright light exploded from Harry's hand and smashed into Malfoy's shield. With a deafening crash, Malfoy's shield shattered and the Disarming Spell hit the Death Eater. Malfoy's wand flew from his hand with a bang while his body was thrown back against the wall where he fell in a heap. Harry casually snatched the Death Eater's wand from the air.
Malfoy groaned as he stood up gingerly. Harry snapped his wand cleanly in two and threw the pieces at Malfoy's feet. Harry saw fear creep into the older wizard's eyes.
"You may, by some miracle, walk away alive today, Potter, but this will not end," Malfoy said with a touch of fear in his voice. "Even if you somehow do defeat The Dark Lord, it won't be over. I've escaped from Azkaban before and I can do it again. Then I'll come for you and your mudblood whore. And I won't be the only one, boy. There are dozens of us. His faithful servants will hunt you down.
"And the only way you can stop us is to become a murderer," Malfoy cackled and gestured to the five dead bodies surrounding them. "These fools' deaths were an accident; I can see it in your eyes that you didn't mean to kill them. And I am positive that you would not kill someone unless you thought it was unavoidable.
"I'll bide my time, wait until you get comfortable, maybe wait until you father some half-bloods of your own," the fear left Malfoy's voice as he stood up to his full height and looked down his nose at Harry. "Then I'll make you watch as I take away your family. I'll start with your youngest and work my way up to the mudblood."
Harry felt bile creep up his throat. Deep down in his heart, Harry knew that what Malfoy was saying was true, not just some idle threat. The other Death Eaters were buffoons who needed to be led by someone smarter and stronger than them. Without guidance, they would slip up and do something stupid and be caught.
But Lucius Malfoy was different. Malfoy didn't follow Voldemort blindly like the rest. He followed the Dark Lord because it would get him power quickly and satisfy his sadistic cravings. Not some asinine quest for "cleansing" the wizarding world for the purebloods. He was cunning and ambitions to the extreme. Malfoy was a danger to Harry and his loved ones.
Harry calmly placed his index finger on Malfoy's forehead.
"Do it, I dare you," Malfoy sneered. "Use the Killing Curse, Potter."
Harry looked deeply into Malfoy's cold eyes. He had to do this, for his future, for Hermione.
"You can't do it, can you boy? You can't kill an unarmed man," Malfoy laughed mirthlessly. "I'll even give you a few pointers. First you have to truly hate your victim; hate him enough to wish him dead. Second you need to realize that your actions would end the life of another human being with two simple words. And third, you would have to take pleasure in it."
"I heard someone once say, 'There are worst things then death,'" Harry said serenely.
Harry saw fear and doubt creep into Malfoy's eyes.
"What do you mean?" Malfoy said.
"OBLIVIATE!"
Harry watched impassively as he saw all the fear and doubt drain from Malfoy's eyes. The older wizard moaned pitifully and crumpled to the floor in a heap. A soft gurgling noise emanated from Malfoy's throat. Harry turned his back on the vegetative Death Eater, confident that he could no longer harm anyone, anymore, ever again.
Harry rushed back to the statue and knelt next to the injured Headmaster. The young man smiled as he saw Fawkes crying his magical healing tears into Dumbledore's wound. The smile disappeared when Harry noticed that the blood from the wound continued to seep out.
"Do not worry yourself, Harry," Dumbledore said with a tiny twinkle in his eyes. "I am a touch older than you and my wounds will take a bit longer to heal, even with Fawkes' help. I shall be fine."
Harry did not need to be a master of Legilimency to know that the old wizard was lying to him.
"Sir…" Harry began to argue.
"I'm more concerned about you, my boy," Dumbledore said, interrupting him. "I can see that you made short work of those fiends, but it appears that you got injured."
Dumbledore took Harry's right hand in his. Harry was disturbed at how cold the Headmaster's hands were.
"It doesn't seem to be too severe," Dumbledore said inspecting the young man's hand. "A single tear from Fawkes should mend this cut quite easily."
Dumbledore gently held Harry's hand up to the beautiful phoenix. Harry looked at the wound as the magical bird moved its head over his hand so that its tears could heal him.
It wasn't very deep, and he had worse injuries in the past. But there was blood, and it had pooled in his palm.
Blood.
It seemed his life was always about blood. From the superficial status of the magical world, with "purebloods," "half-bloods," and "muggle-borns." To blood-magic. Harry should have been an expert on that subject. His mother gave up her life by performing some unknown ancient blood-magic to shield Harry from the Killing Curse. Lily's pure love for her child shielded him from Voldemort's hate driven curse.
That blood-magic was the reason Dumbledore placed Harry with his only surviving blood relative; Petunia, Lily's only sister. Dumbledore believed that if Harry lived with his aunt, that the blood-protection that Lily gave Harry would still be in effect.
Love, that was the power that Harry had and that Voldemort "knew not." It was given to him by his mother. Her love flowed through Harry's veins, protecting him.
Then, during his fourth year, Voldemort performed a blood-ritual of his own. Harry still had nightmares reliving that night. Wormtail cut open Harry's arm and took his blood from him as the young boy was tied to a tombstone. Voldemort used Harry's blood as one of the three main ingredients in his resurrection; "Bone of the father, unknowingly given. Flesh of the servant, willingly given. And blood of the enemy, forcibly taken."
Voldemort had taken Harry's blood in order to bypass Lily's blood-protection. Before the ritual, Voldemort could not be touched by Harry without feeling intense pain, weakening him, perhaps even eventually killing the villain.
So now, the power that his mother gave him was all for naught. The power flowed through Harry's veins now was in Voldemort.
As a magical tear formed in Fawkes' eye, Harry's memory wandered to a particularly confusing chapter in Advanced Potion Making, the book that Dumbledore had given Harry at the start of sixth year. It was a chapter on "blood-magic and its properties."
It stated:
"A witch or wizard that has magical properties in their blood can transfer or imbue their 'blood-magic' to another witch or wizard through a complicated ritual.
For example; a 'normal' or average wizard can become a Metamorphmagus if a true Metamorphmagus (a witch or wizard born with that power in their blood) donates the blood to be used in the ritual.
There is a major difference in using normal blood as opposed to blood with magical properties in a ritual: the donor's consent.
If the witch or wizard gives up their blood willingly and with full knowledge of the ramifications (i.e. if an average wizard becomes an Animagus through the use of another Animagus' blood, then the formally average wizard would have to register with the Ministry as an Animagus or both parties would face legal punishment), then there will be no complications in the ritual.
But if the blood is taken without the donor's consent or knowledge, there will be some complications. Sometimes the magical properties may lay dormant. Also; the donor still has some form of control over the magical properties in the blood. For example, if the aforementioned wizard used a Metamorphmagus' blood without his or her knowledge, the true Metamorphmagus can control the other's powers if the two would ever have blood-to-blood contact. That is to say, the true Metamorphmagus could trigger changes in the appearance of the other, ritual-imbued Metamorphmagus.
If the power lies dormant, it can be activated by blood-to-blood contact with the original donor."
Harry's eyes widened in realization; "… the power lies dormant…" As Fawkes' tear fell towards Harry's hand, the young wizard closed his hand into a fist. The magical tear landed impotently on Harry's fingers, missing the bleeding gash in his palm.
"It's my blood…" Harry said as he held his bloodied hand in front of his face, "the blood in Voldemort's body, it's still mine."
Dumbledore smiled the same triumphant smile that Harry saw after the old wizard was first told about the ritual after the Third Task at the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
"Yes, Harry, it is."
TBC