"Ah, Harry my boy, right on time," Prof. Dumbledore said, looking up from the paperwork he'd been going over. Harry wasn't exactly sure what paperwork the man had been working on, as it wasn't like he taught any classes anymore and needed to grade assignments, but he was sure it was something important.
'Though then again maybe not,' he thought to himself, remembering how Prof. Snape grumbled about the fact that it felt like he did all the work running the school. 'According to him it's like he has his hand in every decision that needs to be made… and Dumbledore just takes all the credit when things go right.' Harry didn't believe that was fully the case, as he couldn't see the man sitting before him being unable to resist the urge to step in and actually take control of the school. It just didn't seem likely, even with the image he tried to project of the professor who was flighty and silly and willing to allow himself to be distracted all the time. No, it was clear to harry that Dumbledore wanted to have his fingers in every little action within the school… he was just very good at hiding that fact.
"I'm glad I made it on time," Harry said with a smile. "I was worried I was going to be late. Got caught up with something."
"A good something or a bad something?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling. "After all, in life both can occur. I have encountered many bad distractions and barriers… and just as many good ones. In fact the good ones at times have been better than where I thought I was going." He looked over his half moon glasses, a sly little smile on his lips as he whispered, "Don't tell anyone but I never meant to apply to work at Hogwarts… I needed to use the bathroom and walked into the wrong room. A very odd interview but I guess Dippet thought my fidgeting was a sign of how much I wanted the job!" He chuckled at that and Harry let out a huffing laugh even as he wondered if the headmaster was telling the truth about that. Most likely not but it still made for a fun story. "Now, good or bad?"
"I'm not quite sure," Harry admitted. "Perhaps good… perhaps bad. Time will tell."
"Now that is a story that is begging to be told," Dumbledore said.
"Just me and some Ravenclaws had a conversation, that is all."
"Harry…" Dumbledore said, his smile falling a bit as his voice took on a warning tone.
The teen held up his hands. "I swear they are perfectly fine. Not a scratch on them. We just talked."
"But it wasn't a friendly talk, was it?"
Harry ran his fingers through his hair in frustration before he finally admitted, "No, it wasn't. And it wasn't my fault, before you say anything!" he jabbed his finger at Dumbledore before realizing that might not be the best way to prove that he had been the sane and collected one during that little event. "I mean it. We just talked. We weren't even angry with each other."
"And what did you talk about then that could be so confusing you couldn't be sure if it was, in your own words, a 'good or bad' conversation?"
"They had… questions."
It had been a mob of younger Ravenclaws, which right away had ensured that Harry kept his calm because for all the problems he was going through, the stress that was eating him up from the inside out and the conflicting desires and emotions, he would never yell at a child. Ever. They asked him all sorts of things about the last war, as if they thought that he had fought it when he hadn't even been conceived when much of it took place. They'd wanted to know about his mother and his father but also about him and Voldemort and his thoughts on it.
"Yes, that does seem to be something Ravenclaws are prone to doing," the headmaster said with a chuckle. "Did it bother you that they asked you those questions."
"More that…" Harry paused, searching for the right words. "More that it bothered me that it bothered me. There wasn't anything offensive or wrong that they asked… honestly they were questions I asked Prof. McGonagall back during my first year. Yet at times I found myself annoyed that the Ravenclaws were asking me. But…" And there he paused, knowing he needed to center himself before he continued speaking. He took several calming breaths before looking at the Headmaster and in a soft voice saying, "At other times during the conversation I liked that they were asking me those questions."
"And you don't know why you felt that way?" Dumbledore said.
"Yeah," Harry said. "It just… makes no sense."
"Oh, it makes perfect sense." The headmaster leaned back in his chair. "There were many times after the Great War where I felt like disappearing. To go and find some island that existed only before my eyes and not on any map. Where I might be free to do as I wished without having to talk to every single person that desired to pump my hand and thank me for all I had done. That… that was oddly the worst part of it, harry. Not the people that had supported Grindlewald and wished that I had failed so that the glorious world he'd promised them might exist. Their anger and hate I understood. They would glare at me and spit at me and tell me that I ruined a good man and rewrote history so that he was evil when in reality he was merely misunderstood. I could understand their emotions and combat them.
"But praise? That was a harder one to deal with. I didn't know how to handle that at time. I didn't set out to be worshiped and yet people wanted to do that. Hand me titles and positions of power when that wasn't who I saw myself as. And how could you get mad at such things? It felt so wrong to lash out at them when they said those things… because they truly came from good places."
"Exactly," Harry said, surprised that Dumbledore understood but realizing he should have. People saw him as a savior, yes, but they had seen Dumlbedore as such before. And there were sure to have been others… Merlin, for example. He was just the latest in a long line of "heroes" that came to save Avalon. 'I wonder if they also had to deal with people seeing them as frauds and fakes; demanding they behave a certain way and become upset when they didn't?'
"But there is something else about the praise, Harry, something that makes it so much worse than the scorn." Dumbledore leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Sometimes… you love it."
Harry opened his mouth to retort that he didn't want people treating him like some god come to slay the monsters… then snapped his jaw shut. Because if he were honest… Dumbledore did have a point.
"And why not?" the old man said as he leaned back in his chair, splaying out his hands in a gesture of 'What can one do?'. "Who doesn't enjoy being told all the wonderful things about themselves? Praise is a heady drug, so thick and wonderful and addictive. Yes… addictive." He stroked his beard. "And insidious. It can worm its way past your shields, ignore all the defenses you put up, and get into your head far better than anything else."
"Like Voldemort," Harry stated.
Dumbledore blinked at that before slowly nodding. "Yes," he said with a soft chuckle, "I suppose it is." He stood up and made his way around the desk. "Voldemort does do that, doesn't he?"
"He plays on people," Harry said. "Not just their fears but their desires. He tells them that they can have whatever they want if they just obey him."
"Which is rather cunning, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked.
"Very much so," Harry agreed. "Like you said, everyone loves to be praised. And telling someone they can be who they want to be… do what they want to do… that's very close to praise, isn't it?" He shook his head and let out a huff. "Voldemort is very good at what he does. The ultimate tempter."
"That is he, my boy, that he is. Just look at who he managed to ensnare. Prof. Quirrell was a good man… I know you might not believe that, due to not having any true interaction with him before he was possessed, but he was once a decent teacher. Miss Chang… I am sorry so many of your interactions were tainted by her greed and need to dominate younger students, as I think in another life the two of you could have been dear friends. And Alastair… oh Alastair."
Harry could only nod at that. He'd read up on Mad-Eye Moody after the events of Fourth Year and what had happened to him seemed to be the greatest tragedy of all. The man had been a legend when it came to dealing with all sorts of evil Teams that popped up. Not just in Avalon but all around the world. While he'd never been a member of the International Police they had sought him out plenty of times to get his advice on how to handle certain criminal elements. He'd fought in countless battles and turned the tide against criminal empires in half the regions of the world.
"I still don't understand how someone like that accepted becoming Voldemort's host," Harry said, shaking his head. "I mean… he lost so much and yet he always kept going." According to his research Moody had lost over a dozen Pokémon over the years fighting the different corrupt Teams that popped up and never once had he fallen into despair. "Why did he give up now?"
"Before he was facing criminals that could only offer him money in the way of bribes," Dumbledore told him softly. "Alastair had no need for money… his family had been old and wealthy and he could easily support himself. People didn't understand that he did what he did out of a desire to do good in the world, to make it a better place."
"But he still gave in. He still allowed Voldemort to take him over."
"Like we both said… Voldemort is the ultimate corrupter. He offers people what they desire or a chance to be the person they wish to be or to take away pain. That is a strong thing to wave in front of someone and I doubt there are many that could resist." Dumbledore gave Harry a look, smiling ever so slightly. "In fact I dare say you might be the first in his long history that were able to reject him."
"He could never give me what I wanted," Harry muttered. 'And even if he could… I wouldn't have been able to face mum and dad if they knew they were only back because I'd sold my soul.'
"Sadly that isn't how it is with most people," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head. "With Quentin… I know he always felt as if he weren't getting the respect he deserved. He thought he should have been made a Head of House before Severus but Quentin was a Ravenclaw and would never have worked as the Head of Slytherin. I told him when Filius retired he would be selected but he saw it as a slight against him. He was… never anyone's favorite teacher. Nor was he the most hated or the most feared or most admired. Students didn't come to him with their secrets but they also didn't flee when he approached. He simply… existed. And he didn't like that. He felt he deserved to be more. Voldemort played on that, I am sure."
"And Cho Chang?" Harry asked.
"The foolishness of youth," Dumbledore said with a helpless shrug. "She most likely assumed that there was nothing Voldemort could do that would actually hurt her. I imagine in her mind she thought she would be the one in control, able to overpower him and take command of their merged souls." He sighed. "A foolish and naïve belief, to be sure." He pressed his lips together. "As for Alastair? I can only assume it was the same thing that would tempt me: time."
"Time?"
"Growing old is a terrible thing," Dumbledore told him. "We tell students that they need to grow up, to mature. That wisdom comes with age. And it does… the wisdom that you'll never be the man you once were. That every day you wake up you drift farther and farther away from that person. You know how to do things better… to be more effective in what you do. Except…" He looked down at his hands, wrinkled and worn, fingers bent and knuckles swollen, a slight tremor that all at once was easy to miss and impossible to not notice. "What good is that when you're trapped in a body that won't respond?" He smiled weakly at that before looking up at Harry. "Alastair fought very hard… and lost much. You think you know… but he hid so much. Consider that, Harry. Consider the fact that he hid so much based on how much was still visible." The headmaster swallowed. "The offer to gain back some of that strength? To reclaim what was lost? Oh. That would be a temptation I dare say many wouldn't have the strength to deny."
Harry didn't insult him by saying he'd deny it. He would… as he said there was nothing that could make him join with the monster that had stolen his parents from him. But he didn't insult Dumbledore with those words, for he understood just what the old man was saying.
So instead Harry stated, "And it's not just those he wishes to bond with either. Nocturne… he makes so many people turn against their region."
"Good… good," Dumbledore said with a nod. "I'm glad you've finally come to see that. I was afraid that you'd see all those that join Nocturne as monsters. Vile creatures that can never be redeemed. But they are good people. Just… led astray."
"I wouldn't go that far," Harry countered, causing the headmaster's shoulders to slump ever so slightly. "Once they were good people. Decent people that simply listened to the wrong man and bought in to his comments and beliefs." Harry held up his hand, wagging his index finger. "But…"
"But?"
"But… after they saw the evils that Voldemort did? They still stayed with him. That is irredeemable. They had a chance to walk away and they chose not to and that is something I will NEVER forgive."
"We must forgive though," Dumbledore argued. "People-"
"They watched him mock me after he chopped off my fucking hand. He threatened to force me to rape and kill Jasmine. The man that killed my parents in front of me!" He roared the last part, his mask dangerously close to shattering. Harry took several breaths to calm himself before he finally spoke again. "I'm sorry… I know you want to believe that they have a chance. You told me as much and I respect that. But I will never forgive them. Ever. Because to me? There is nothing left in any of Nocturne's agents. They might not have been possessed by Voldemort but they were hollowed out by him all the same." He looked away and let out a huff. "And that is something we'll never agree on."
"I suppose not," Dumbledore said softly.
Harry wasn't foolish enough to believe that that would be the end of things. No, Dumbledore would push him again. While the man had admitted he was wrong with his belief that every person deserved a second chance he still made it clear that he wanted to spare as many as possible. And that was something Harry could never agree to. He understood the need for compassion but the Pack had taught him just as important of a lesson: you don't leave knives behind you unless you want to get stabbed in the back.
"I hear you attended Prof. Slughorn's Halloween party," Dumbledore said with a smile, deciding a change of topics was needed. "I must admit I never expected you to agree to such a thing."
"I didn't expect it either," Harry admitted. "But Luna said that I needed to try and get out more."
"A very wise woman, Miss Lovegood," Dumbledore stated. "And I agree with her. Sometimes we learn more about ourselves and the world by doing things we aren't comfortable with and meeting people we might not have ever thought of talking to." He reached into his desk and pulled out a bag of sweets. "Lemon drop?"
"No thanks," Harry said.
The headmaster shrugged and sucked on one of the candies. "Will you be attending another one?"
"I think so," Harry admitted. He didn't mention that part of the reason he would be doing so was the fact that he felt he owed Slughorn as much for what he'd done for Ginger. The man hadn't called in his favor yet but Harry knew it would be coming. Better to remain on the man's good side than to alienate him and cause him to see Harry as someone who needed to be punished for not showing proper gratitude.
"Marvelous, marvelous!" Dumbledore praised before standing up and motioning for Harry to follow him away from his desk. "Now then, let us get down to business. While such conversations are well and good we must remember why we are here. Let us see how far you have come with Aura."
Harry nodded, feeling on more stable ground with this new focus. Dumbledore moved about his office, clearing space for him so he might be able to go through his exercises without fear of damaging anything. For the chaotic and cluttered nature of his rooms this was achieved rather quickly and soon Harry had about a 10 foot circle all around him, roughly formed thanks to stacks of books and papers, shelves, chests, and all other manner of brickabrack lying about to form the perimeter. Taking several deep breaths Harry reached down deep within himself, looking for the spark.
Dumbledore had said that every person views Aura in a different way when they sought it within themselves. Which only made sense since Aura was a person's lifeforce so why wouldn't everyone's lifeforce be unique and original to them? Just as Speakers gained different abilities depending on the Pokemon they joined with so too was it with Aura. For Dumbledore he had informed Harry that for him the pit of Aura within his core was like a cauldron from a wizard's laboratory, bubbling and boiling with energy and power. To reach in was like holding onto liquid fire, for the Aura could be slippery and fall through his fingers or cling to his grasp like tree sap. But he had said that for Harry it would be different… should be different.
And it was.
Looking within the darkness that was a world without any outside influence Harry saw bolts of Aura racing about, piercing the blackness as they darted from one 'hole' to another. They were the same blue color as Dumbledore's Aura but within the bolts was a pale yellow light that seemed to flicker and flash as they raced about the darkness. Some were so quick that they appeared merely as a brief flashing line, like a thunderbolt during a dark storm. Others were slower, still racing about but with them he could clearly see the movement and tell where the bolt was going and where it had come from. It was these that he focused on, waiting for the right moment to strike. Far too many times he'd been impatient and the result had been the Aura darting away before he could get near it. It was rather like trying to catch a Milotic as it squirmed under the waves. He had to wait for just the right moment-
He reached out, not so much with his hands for he was within himself but rather his entire being, and caught hold of one of the bolts. This caused the others not to dart away but to come at him, more and more Aura swirling towards him and joining with the first.
Opening his eyes Harry saw the Aura in his hands, called forth into being.
Where Dumbledore's took the form of blue flames that burned merrily around his hands Harry's Aura slithered around his forearms like Ekans seeking out a tasty meal. They weren't so much blue tubes with yellow centers but squirmed ill-defined tentacles that throbbed and pulsed like veins. The tendrils of Aura wrapped around his limbs, occasionally snapping out like a serpent's tongue against the air before returning to the tentacles that curled about him. They didn't hurt in the slightest; Harry didn't feel any pain or distress from them moving along his sleeves. All he felt was their warmth and power, ready to heed his commands. His muscles flexed and tensed occasionally, stimulated by the cords of energy, boosting his strength and speed all at once.
"Good," Dumbledore said softly as he walked around Harry, observing his Aura projection. "Fully formed. You've been practicing with them?"
"I have," Harry said. He'd only managed to get his Aura to come out two weeks ago but he'd spent as much free time as he could spare learning how to manipulate the tendrils and get them to do as he commanded.
"Good. Now show me what you can do."
Harry nodded before thrusting out his right hand. Once more it was different than with Dumbledore. The Headmaster fired off balls of Aura while Harry's remained connected to him, lashing out like whips. Just an extension of himself, another limb. One Aura tendril grabbed onto a chair and threw it into the air, Harry spinning so he could thrust his other hand out and catch it with another tentacle before setting it gently on the ground. He then snapped his arms across his body, forming an X Shape that would strike down any foe that might have gotten into his way. Next he wrapped both tentacles around a chest and a candle stick, respectfully, before lifting them up and swinging them about like flails.
"Now dodge!" Dumbledore declared, having already summoned his own Aura and throwing a ball right at Harry. His right arm went up and he grabbed hold of a high beam that hung above him, yanking himself off his feet before he began to pull himself along like a wild jungle man swinging from a vine. He moved through the air quickly, using the skills he'd developed flying with Hedwig, twisting his body and using the tendrils to always find a handheld that could yank him away from the Headmaster's strikes and blasts, ensuring they never hit him. One of the tricks he was still trying to work on was for the aura tentacles to 'stick' when they came in contact with any surface, meaning he didn't need to focus on wrapping them around a beam or a figure and could instead just latch onto something and use it to propel him along.
Dropping to the ground Harry fired out both tendrils, having them wrap around each other before he pulled them apart, forming a net as more 'snake tongues' formed from the connection, locked together to create a barrier. It was impressive… until Dumbledore fired off a blast that got through the many holes in the structure and caused Harry to go flying into a desk.
"Still… still working on that," he admitted.
"It would work against a large body," Dumbledore told him, walking over and offering Harry a hand up. He took it after a moment, his Aura already having dissipated. "But you saw the failure against another Aura user."
"Yeah," Harry said, rubbing the back of his head and neck to work out the kinks. "I knew it wouldn't work against you… I've been trying it out against my Pokemon-"
"I hope not Firebolt," Dumbledore said, concerned.
"I'm in a rush to learn but I'm not a fool," Harry said with a scoff. "Orion and he was using Water Gun. He found it degrading but did it. I needed to see how Aura would work against Aura." He rolled his shoulders, feeling the bones click together as he worked to get everything moving smoothly once again. "Looks like Aura doesn't affect other Aura."
"No, it does not," Dumbledore said, gesturing for Harry to take a seat. "Does your Aura naturally come out so…" he waved his hand about as he searched for the right word before finally asking rather lamely, "Long?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Surprised me when I first was able to summon it out."
"And the limits to how far it can stretch?"
Harry considered that. "I can't reach the moon. Or even the top of the Gryffindor Tower if I'm standing outside. But still I can reach pretty far."
"And retracting?"
"I… never tried beyond how they first come out."
"I'd like you to work on that," Dumbledore said. When Harry stared at him in confusion the old man shrugged. "There are all manner of benefits to building up different options when it comes to how you fight. You know that from Pokemon battles; you don't prevent Leafeon from figuring out how to do Vine Whip just because he can now use Leaf Blade."
Harry conceded the point. "Couldn't hurt. At the very least I can learn more about how my Aura works even if I can't condense them down into smaller formers."
"You should also look into figuring out how to spread if over your body," Dumbledore said before lighting up his own feet with Aura and just as he had back in the Ministry building slowly began to step up, walking on the air. His movements were slower, more careful, not at all rushed, but it was still impressive as he created Aura platforms to stand on as he walked up a 'flight of stairs' and then circled around Harry before stepping down. "That is just one thing Aura can do. It can also shield your body like a bullet proof vest if you get it to surround your chest. If placed around your head it can enhance your senses…" He trailed off before shaking his head. "Not that you need that, I suppose."
"Can't hurt," Harry said though and Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "I try it all out."
"Good." He waved Harry up and over to a chest. "Then let us move on to the next thing I wish to focus on during this meeting." From the chest he withdrew another Time Flower. "This one is very precious… more so than the first one I showed you." He held out his hands and allowed his aura to flow out from his fingers, finding the right frequency to cause the flower to bloom once more. Just like the first time Harry found himself holding his breath as the delicate, glass-like structure shifted and changed, leaves extending and petals opening up wide before it began to glow.
"What is this memory?" Harry asked.
"You are about to see something all of Avalon would love to see."
"And that is?"
"Merlin."
