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Chapter Fourteen
The Calm
Harry still felt uneasy about Nott in the final days leading up the Quidditch final match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. It seemed like a bad idea to just let the boy go along unhindered, but Faykan had merely shrugged when he replied sadly, "What would you have us do? Charge in and have Nott retaliate with violence? I am not so eager to have his blood on my hands, even if it leads to a greater tragedy. I still cling to the hope that Nott can see reason and change."
Harry had ceased to bring the subject up after that, not being able to fault the old Istari his desires for good, even if personally Harry felt that this was a special case and that Nott was rapidly descending beyond hope of redemption.
However, it seemed to be a bridge that they would cross when the time was right, and not something to fret over too much beforehand. In the meanwhile, there were taunts and jibes to be withstood from the rest of Ravenclaw, and naturally Slytherin houses, as well as the accolades and supportive cheering from Gryffindor for the match.
Harry, along with the rest of the Gryffindor team, was heralded by mass applause the morning of the anticipated match. Clad in their Quidditch robes and leather armor they ate quickly, albeit lightly. Harry noticed that his fellow teammates had the same lack of appetite that he normally suffered. Even Ron, who ability to eat no matter what was legendary within the house, merely pushed food around on his plate after two or three bites.
They all knew what this match meant for their house, and even weighted down by greater matters than a simply school game, Harry still felt the same said butterflies in his stomach at the prospects of facing off against their green-clad rivals from Slytherin.
The pitch filled quickly, and Harry turned to face his team when they had gathered in the tunnel which led to the field from the changing room. "All right then team," he said. He paused, slightly lost for words of encouragement. Truthfully, Quidditch was starting to lose its appeal for even him, in sharp contrast to the looming war, but for the benefit of those who were not so keenly aware, he forced a wide grin, "let's get out there and show them that we're keeping the Quidditch Cup this year!"
The others cheered, and together they mounted their brooms, soaring out as the gate to the pitch swung open. Seven scarlet blurs rushed out to face off against their blue counterparts. For Harry, the game seemed more of a blur once the Quaffle was released. He focused hard on just catching the snitch and ending it as quickly as possible, which also seemed to be Cho Chang's same intent.
They circled the pitch relentlessly, and Harry's eyes darted over the field again and again for any sight of the little golden ball. Far below, Faykan, along with Ginny and Katie Bell were dominating the Quaffle, their tactics earning many points for Gryffindor while preventing Ravenclaw from holding possession for long. Ron was in top form, as when anything managed to pierce Faykan's keen eyes and reflexes, it failed to pass Ron. Harry even spotted one instance where his friend launched himself from his broom altogether to tackle the ball away from a hoop, only to twist and catch his own broom as it sped past.
That was when he spotted the flutter of gold, circling away from Gryffindor side toward the middle. Glancing at Cho, he realized that she spotted it as well. Grinning, he dove, rocketing toward the ground with the Ravenclaw girl hot on his tail. But Harry rode on a Firebolt, and he quickly outpaced her.
Like meteors they fell, at one point spinning to dodge a bludger shot at them from one of the four Beaters. Harry even dove straight through the oncoming Ravenclaw Chasers, forcing them to swerve out of the way and drop the Quaffle in the process, which was recovered by Faykan instantly.
But Harry was focused solely upon the darting Snitch. It shot across the pitch, and the Firebolt roared behind in hot pursuit. The crowd's screams were hot in Harry's ears, and he pushed every ounce of speed out of his broom, urging it breathlessly to go faster.
With relish, he clamped his fingers around the struggling golden ball, just as a whistle blew. The Gryffindor team had secured the Cup once again.
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Draco screaming his approval with the rest of Gryffindor as Harry made his spectacular catch of the Snitch. Hurriedly, many of their fellow students raced back to the common room, intent on prepping it for a party in celebration of their win. Draco and Hermione went with them. The Fat Lady gave no pause to their entry, blushing and giggling with happiness at the news of another Gryffindor win.
Food was fetched from the kitchens by some eager fifth years, while banners, balloons and other décor were conjured by Hermione and the seventh years. The younger years all chattered excitedly about the match as they waited for the team, along with its vanguard of the third and fourth years, to arrive.
Draco couldn't quite explain the feelings he had at the present moment. He felt, comfortable. It had been less than a term in Gryffindor Tower, and everyone from the burliest seventh year all the way to the youngest first year had accepted him immediately with open arms. It was a comfortable reassurance that he had never really felt in Slytherin.
Soon everything was ready, and when the portrait hole opened to admit Harry and the Team, the crowd roared in celebration. Many surged forward to grab the team by the hands and drag them to the center of the common room. Draco looked around at their smiling faces. Harry and Ron supported the silver Quidditch Cup in their hands, lifting it high for the rest to see.
Ginny appeared, and in her happiness she threw her arms around Draco's neck, laughing madly. And without even pausing to think, to even consider that Ron and around four dozen odd people were watching, Draco kissed her.
Time seemed to freeze, and Draco had no idea whether it was several moments or hours before they broke apart. The room had gone very quiet. Then several boys near the back of the room wolf-whistled, breaking the moment and there was an outbreak of nervous laughter, eventually resuming their excited partying over the Quidditch victory.
Draco glanced over Ginny toward the rest of the sixth years. Dean Thomas was holding a shattered glass in his hand, while Faykan was smiling in approval at the pair. But Draco was searching specifically for Ron's eyes. He looked like someone had clubbed him over the head, and for a moment or two they just stared at each other. Then, Ron gave the tiniest of jerks of his head, and Draco took it to mean, 'Well, if you must.'
Smirking in triumph, Draco turned back to Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds suddenly seemed like an excellent idea, and if they had time they might be able to further discuss the match.
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Hermione found the next week's worth of gossip to be truly hilarious, especially those rumors that were circulating about Draco and Ginny's relationship, who knew that the entire school was paying as much attention to people surrounding Harry as they gave to Harry himself.
The part that was truly funniest was the pair in question, and their seeming immunity to the rumors around them. Personally, Hermione found it sweet. Draco and Ginny's personalities complimented each other far better than any of her previous boyfriends. What truly impressed her was how well Ron was taking the change in relationship between his best friend and his little sister. Aside from a handful of scathing warnings to Draco about not snogging in front of him, the red haired boy seemed perfectly fine with the arrangement.
It did however make life slightly more difficult for them in planning how to conduct the war, as Faykan had not revealed himself to any students past the four of them, and tearing Draco and Ginny apart aside from classes was very risky business, but the black haired Istari wasn't complaining. If anything, he was the one who understood the most, and just smiled in a parental sort of way every time Draco departed from them to be with Ginny.
Even their other out of class activities had been hindered slightly. The D.A. was one example. While it was still being held every other weekend as to not interfere with Quidditch, Draco's near full time being with Ginny was a slight hindrance to the students that he was supposed to be teaching. No one seemed to mind, but it was problematic all the same.
Hermione just surmised that the pair would eventually cool off slightly and return to normal people, and decided to just let them relish what limited time that had in the moment.
Just then, as they were all sitting in relative quiet around the fireplace, Jimmy Peakes walked over and wordlessly handed Harry a tiny scroll of parchment. When the younger student walked away, Harry and Faykan stared at the miniscule handwriting.
"It's from Dumbledore," Harry said, his excitement building as he scanned the note for the third or fourth time, his eyes sparkling. "He wants us to go to his office as quickly as possible."
They all stared, Ginny wearing a confused look while the others sat in awed silence. "Blimey," Ron half whispered, "you don't reckon… he hasn't found…?"
"Better go and see then, hadn't we?" Faykan said quickly, flashing a grin. The two boys jumped to their feet quickly and nearly dashed from the common room.
"What was that all about?" Ginny asked, still confused. Draco patted her on the head, "Never mind that just now, if what we think will happen, happens, we will fill you in later."
Hermione was surprised when Ginny, who normally would have burst at being denied information she desire, merely nodded, and let her head rest on the former Slytherin's shoulder.
What did have Hermione concerned was the strange foreboding in the back of her mind. it felt as if there was something big about to happen in the school, and if Dumbledore had found a Horcrux, they he, Faykan and Harry would all be away to help prevent whatever may happen.
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Albus sat in his office, awaiting the arrival of Harry and Lord Alatar. He was currently pondering what measures needed to be taken to protect his school during their little adventure that would shortly take place. He had discovered the hiding place of another potential Horcrux; another piece of Tom Riddle's soul. It seemed obvious to him, who had personally spoken to the matron of the boy's orphanage that the seaside cave might indeed be a place that Voldemort would think safe.
But still, a strange dread was creeping into the back of the old Headmaster's mind. something was stirring, magic that he himself could not place, and he feared what situation may arise while the three most powerful wizards in the school were away.
His dreaded musings were interrupted by the pounding of feet as two people dash up the stairs to his office. A swish of the Elder wand opened the door for them, admitting Harry and Alatar, who looked breathless, yet energized by their youth and fierce determination to find out what Albus had to tell them.
"Well, I had promised you both that you could come with me," Albus started without preamble, standing and summoning a traveling cloak to him.
Harry looked elated, but Alatar narrowed his eyes in concern, "What is to be done about the school defenses?"
Albus sighed, "I had only just been contemplating that very matter, Lord Alatar. I take it you sense the same un-rightness that has settled around the castle as of about an hour ago?"
"I have," the Istari said flatly, his drifting to stare at a solid wall. Slowly, the blazing blue orbs unfocused momentarily, and almost absently the ancient wizard slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a small stone graven with a bee upon it. "Beornhelm," he said lazily, and again his eyes focused back again. "We need to meet our newest defenders just outside the main gate in short order. What would you have us prepare?"
Albus could only nod, accepting the wisdom of one far greater in knowledge and power than himself. It was a very humbling experience, and yet Albus somehow didn't feel any less for it. There was a comfort in that. "Harry," he said, and the boy turned to him immediate, "I promised that you would be allowed to come with myself and Lord Alatar, but I must add one important condition: that you must obey any command I might give you at once, without question."
Harry stood in silence a moment, pondering, and Albus smiled at the boy's wisdom in thinking over such an important decision. "I know you will do anything asked of you by Alatar, but I need you to trust my council just as much as his while we are seeking Voldemort's Horcrux. If I tell you to run, you must do it, if I say hide, I cannot allow you to question it, if I command you to flee and save yourself, you must do it instantly."
After a moment more, Harry looked at Albus, a fire burning behind Lily's eyes, "I understand sir."
"Very good, then I wish you both to return to Gryffindor Tower, fetch your cloak and weapons and meet me in the Entrance Hall in five minutes time. also prepare your friends for whatever ill may befall this castle while we are away. I trust your wisdom Alatar, but one can never have too many eyes watching for danger."
"I agree," the Blue Istari agreed.
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Darkness descended over the sky as Voldemort walked the shadowed grounds of Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord could sense his influence and power as it drifted across the country, and well beyond it. Here and there were pinpricks of light; resistors that had yet to be snuffed out and swept away by his oncoming tide.
Gingerly, the Lord of the Earth let his hand brush a passing rosebush, which immediately wilted upon contact with his skin and magic. Oh the wondrous powers he had been gifted with, how he would relish unleashing them upon the world, shaping it into an order after his own design.
All that hindered him from launching his assault across the whole of Europe was the necessary securing of his invincibility; the death of Harry Potter. The thought of the infuriating boy and his vaunted defenders brought the Dark Lord's mind to Hogwarts, and his servant that lingered therein.
Through his connection to every branded Death Eater, Lord Voldemort could sense the boy and his progress. A surge of jubilation pleasantly blossomed in his mind. The Project was ready. Smiling devilish, the Dark Lord began to plan the final outcome of his prelude to total dominion over the world of men.
Within the walls of Hogwarts there was no room for Alatar or his armies. There were also plenty of hostages to take, the children of nearly every wizarding family in Britain. His victory would be assured. Even the Great Dumbledore would fall before him in this hour.
Wordlessly, he summoned his left and right hands. Lucius, ever slippery yet faithful, and dear sweet Bellatrix, the fist of Voldemort, appeared in a rush of robes.
"You call us my Lord?" Lucius asked with a bow.
"Yes, Lucius, the time has come." If the man reacted to his Lords words, the man did not show it. "Gather my strike force, the way has been prepared. This night, we take Hogwarts back for the pureblood wizards. Give the Order."
"As you command my Lord," Lucius said, departing immediately to gather his very best.
"Bella…" the Dark Lord purred as he turned to his most faithful servant. "I have a special assignment for you this night."
"Anything my Lord," she replied, awe and respect in her eyes.
"Take charge over this attack, I want you to personally lead my protégé, Theodore, and several others of your choosing to the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts. There, bait a trap for the leaders of the Light. Capture Potter, and kill Dumbledore and all others who come to you."
The madwoman understood the gravity of her Lord's command, and relished his trust in her. "It will be done my Lord," he replied with a deep bow, before departing to prepare herself for this final conflict.
Voldemort turned; throwing his consciousness outward with the power granted him by the ring of power. Without concentration, he issued commands to his forces. All responded immediately, except for one large contingency that was near the northernmost mountains and boarder of Russia. A mighty bastion of orcs laid there, Gundaband, near to a mighty Dwarven Fortress, on which the forces were waiting for openings to engage.
Now however, the generals there had seen an opening in the Dwarven Stronghold, and they weren't willing to let such an attack against their hated enemies slip past. Normally, such disobedience in his followers would have enraged him, he felt it tactically wise to allow this insubordination to slide. The attack that would occur shortly after the storming of Hogwarts would be the perfect distraction to allow the Dark Lord to plot a follow up campaign against his foes.
Soon, everything would fall into place, and the world would again tremble in fear at the merest mention of the Dark Lord of the Earth.
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Harry and Faykan nearly flew back to the common room, brushing past Ron, Draco, Hermione and Ginny in the common room, in the face of many protests and questions. Only upon returning from the dorm with cloak in hand did Harry pause to listen to the bout of confusion from their friends.
"Harry, what's going on? Why do you have your cloak?" Ron asked.
Hermione on the other hand, widened her eyes, "He's found one, hasn't he?"
Harry could only nod, he was still breathing hard from sprinting to and back from Dumbledore's office. From a pocket of his cloak he withdrew the Marauder's Map and handed it to Hermione, "There's not much time, but Dumbledore is feeling the same unease you are, and wants you all to be prepared in case the worst happens while we're gone."
"What are you all talking about?" Ginny asked worriedly, "Harry, what?"
"Ah, dear Ginerva," Faykan said gently as he returned from the boy's Dormitory, "You have waited so patiently for us to explain the magnitude of what is going on this year, but I must ask for more time, as we are on a tight schedule to go further the work of defeating Voldemort."
Ginny gasped at the mention of the name, and whirled in added confusion at the forwardness of the normally quiet Will Stanton. "I… Will… what?"
In response, Faykan merely leaned in and whispered the spell to include Ginny in the group able to see through his illusion. The girl's eyes bulged as she finally saw the true face of Will. Pressing a finger to his lips, and nodding at her, Faykan turned to Draco. Withdrawing from a pocket the small vial of Felix Felicis that he won so long ago that year to the displeasure of the his friends, and handed it to the blond boy.
"Summon the D.A. measure out enough for each to have at least an hour or two of enhanced luck, I fear that something will indeed occur tonight, and I'd rather have every option available to us in this moment."
"Of course," Draco said dutifully, taking Ginny's hand reflexively.
Faykan nodded, "If something does happen, blow the horn immediately, there are allies near, and every member of the D.A. will hear it, inform them what the signal will mean immediately."
Hermione nodded and stepped away as she withdrew her false coin to spread the message. With everything possible set out in preparation, Harry nodded at each, and together with Faykan they departed to meet with Dumbledore.
The aged Headmaster was waiting for them in front of the oak doors, and smiled as the pair came skidding into view. "Harry, I would have you wear your cloak please, and Alatar if you could assume your form as Zemar."
Complying, Harry watched interest as Faykan's form shimmered into the older man that he had fabricated. "Very good," Dumbledore said once both were disguised and hidden, "Shall we go?"
Together the three of them departed, quickly crossing the grounds and exiting the gate of Hogwarts. The sun was nearly set, and twilight was quickly setting in. Over a dozen massive men, towering over even Dumbledore, with battleaxes slung over shoulders or held at their sides. "You called for us," their leader, whom Harry recognized as Beornhelm, said gruffly.
"Yes," Faykan said flatly, "We fear that Voldemort will attack the castle this night, the time being unknown, orc will more than likely be present if and when he does." Many of the men grumbled angrily at the mention of orcs, "Patrol the edges of the castle walls, and if the Horn of Gondor sounds, charge in and be ready for battle."
"As you wish, Alatar…" Beornhelm said moodily, and the group of Beornings made their way onto the grounds. "As added incentive," Faykan added as an afterthought, "Know that your great grandson sleeps inside the castle as we speak, when we return I will personally introduce you."
The giant man said nothing, but dipped his head in acknowledgement, before he and his group shifted into their massive bear forms and set out to patrol the castle parameter.
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Albus walked with Lord Alatar and Harry, and although he could not see the latter he could sense his magical presence toward the far end of Hogsmeade Village. Lights twinkled occasionally from windows over the many houses and shops they passed. As the trio neared the door of The Three Broomsticks, they heard the raucous shouts of Madam Rosmerta, as she magically ejected a wizard from her tavern. "And stay out!" she shouted at the grubby looking man. As she turned to reenter her business, she caught sight of Albus and Alatar, and smiled at them in greeting, "Oh, hello Albus, you're out late… who's your friend?"
"Good evening Rosmerta," Albus replied, choosing to make no mention of Alatar's name to her, "forgive us, but we're off to the Hog's Head… no offence, but I feel that a quieter atmosphere is needed for us tonight, important business to discuss and so forth."
It wasn't long before they arrived at the end of the dimly lit street that ended at the dingy pub. No lights shone inside, and Albus knew that his brother had long ago gone to bed. Aberforth wasn't of the same quality of business owner as Rosmerta, but he still scraped a meager living none the less.
"We will be apparating to this place, I assume Albus." Alatar asked gently, still checking around them for any signs of life.
"Yes," Albus replied, "I can guide us there if you or Harry would be so kind as assist powering the apparition."
Alatar nodded his consent, and Albus felt his good hand be taken by Harry's invisible one. Alatar's join it moments later, "On the count of three," Albus stated, picturing the seaside cave distinctly in his mind, "One… Two… Three."
Alatar turned, and Albus felt himself and Harry slip through the distortion in time and space so effortlessly, that even he had to check and see if they had actually moved. It had been by far the most pleasant apparition that Albus had experienced in his lifetime. The salty air of the sea was the first clue that they had indeed moved.
The waves were choppy in the quickly disappearing light, but from their vantage point of rock at the base level of the cliff, Albus could still see the opening of the cave. Turning to Alatar, Albus asked, "What do you think?" He was referring to the eerie sense of magic that was heavy in the air, much like it had been back at the Gaunt's Shack.
"They brought children from the orphanage here?" Harry said, even as he began removing his cloak.
"Not here precisely," Albus corrected, "there is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us, and that is where I believe that they went for their little holidays. No, I think only Tom Riddle and his youthful victims ever visited this spot. No Muggle could safely reach even this rock unless they were uncommonly good mountaineers, and boats cannot approach because of the dangerous and unpredictable swells. I can only imagine that Riddle climbed down himself, aided by magic which would have served better than ropes. Bringing the two children with him could only have been for pleasure of terrorizing them. the journey alone would have done it think, don't you?"
Harry glanced at the cliffs on either side and shivered subconsciously.
"But his final destination, and ours, lies a little farther on. Come." Albus said, beckoning them to the very edge of the rock upon which they stood, where a series of jagged niches made perfect footholds down to the water's edge. Albus had to move slowly, the rocks were wet and slippery and his blackened hand wasn't about to catch him if he fell unexpectedly. "Lumos," Albus said, lighting their way and revealing the fissure-like cave. "Neither of you object to getting a little wet I presume?"
"No," Harry said.
"Neither do I, however," Alatar said, waving his wand and forming a causeway of thick ice over the water to their destination. Seawater slopped over the causeway at many locations, but it would only be ankle deep at the worst places. "If you care to lead, Albus." The ancient Istari said, taking a firm hold on Albus' arm to support him.
The way went much faster, and soon enough they were standing, only slightly dampened from sea spray, in the cave. The bridge faded back into water as Harry clambered up to the rocks, and Albus turned his wandlight to study the cave walls, all the while shifting his senses to the lines of magic that were layered all around them like a cage.
"Yes, this is indeed the place," he said absently, "it still remembers the magic it felt that day. Foul magic." Albus stopped at a particular section of wall, finding a pattern that he recognized somewhat well.
"Here, we go on to the inner place from here. The entrance is concealed, an obstacle of Lord Voldemort's design no doubt." Alatar joined him, and together they tried to force the doorway to reveal itself. for a second, it flashed into existence, before fading back into solid wall.
"Oh, surely not." Albus said as he realized the key for passage.
"So crude of him," Alatar agreed.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Payment is required to open the door," Alatar explained to Harry as Albus drew a small silver knife from his robes. He wasn't about to allow either of them, whose blood was far more important than his, especially in his already deteriorating state, to mar this dark cave's walls. Even more importantly so if Voldemort ever returned and checked on who had penetrated his secrets.
"What sort of payment?" Harry asked, the smallest amount of fright in his voice.
"Blood if I am not much mistaken," Albus said, turning to face the hidden door again. "It is indeed crude, especially for Voldemort to once again fail to realize that there are more terrible things than physical injury." He raised the knife.
"Professor! I'll do it, I'm…" Harry protested immediately, and Dumbledore felt a swell of love for the wonderful person that Harry had grown into, but he was set on doing this task himself. The wall was splattered in crimson.
"You are very kind, Harry," Albus said as he healed himself and stowed the knife away, "much like your mother was, but your blood is worth more than mine. Ah, I do believe that that seems to have done the trick."
The doorway had shimmered into view almost instantly as the blood had struck the stones. The passage beyond was dark. From this point, Alatar took point, revealing his staff in full and lighting the pointed jewel atop it so that it shined with an inner brilliance. Albus and Harry followed quickly, and all were on alert for the slightest sign of another obstacle or trap.
The passage was short, and soon opened into a massive chamber dominated by a massive blackened lake, large enough to not see the distant shore, and so high that the ceiling was out of the range of Alatar's light. The middle of the lake glowed with an eerie green light, almost like a beckoning beacon that reflected in the deathly still water around. The source of the light stank of dark magic, and Albus was certain that it was the destination that the three wizards sought.
But there was something else going on in the chamber, another subtle magic that was ever more menacing than anything toward the center. Light could not pierce the murky water, but Albus didn't need his eyes to know what awaited them beneath the surface. Catching Alatar's eye, who nodded his acknowledgment of the danger, Albus beckoned him and Harry to follow along the edge. "Be very careful not to step into the water," he warned Harry.
Albus wasn't able to stomach revealing that the lake was filled with inferi to Harry, the boys nerves were already on edge, and he did not need the added dread that the walking dead could bring to the situation.
To his credit, Harry remained silent as they circled the lake, merely watching as Albus and Alatar wave both staff and wand over the edge of rock, searching for some means of crossing the water without disturbing the corpses below. "Aha," Alatar said, stopping suddenly, "I believe I found it."
With another wave of the great silver staff, a murky chain appeared in midair, extending from the watery depths, and with a second the chain began to pull itself up, coiling on the floor of the cave as something rose from the blackness. Soon, a tiny boat emerged from the lake, nudging gently up to the rocky shore of the cave.
Without a thought, Albus climbed into the boat, examining it carefully with magic. It was clearly Voldemort's signature, done with his own hand and by his own wand. The boat would sink unless only a single wizard occupied it. Alatar and Albus could not share it, but Harry, his power notwithstanding, was underage and would be disqualified from Voldemort's spell registering.
"Harry, you may join me in this boat, but Lord Alatar must find another way across, as the boat will only carry one full grown wizard." He explained. "Be very careful to not touch the water in any way."
Gingerly, Harry lowered himself into the boat, taking extreme caution to stay dry. Alatar on the other hand, rapped his staff on the ground of the cave and hunched his back, face contorted with pain. Albus' eyes widened as black feathered wings sprouted from the aged Istari's back, fanning out on either side of him. Even Harry sat stunned at the display of magic.
Alatar tested the strength of his transfigured wings, lifting off the ground with only a few beats of the black feathers. Then Alatar nodded, taking off high above the water and began flying to the center, the light of his staff leading the way for Voldemort's boat, which set off on its own toward the middle of the lake.
Albus took the time as the journey across the murky water to observe Harry in the dim lighting. The boy was clearly uncomfortable, not only with their situation, but in the boat. There was little room for Harry to so much a crouch, both knees jutting over the edge of the boat, and forcing the boy to have a solid view of the murky blackness around them. Albus was impressed to see that the boy didn't waver in his stoic lookout, even when they drew close enough that their wandlight illuminated one of the many dangers lurking beneath them.
Upon spotting the inferi, Harry did not gasp, flinch or shout, merely widening his eyes in realization and pointedly looking away, focusing on Alatar as they were pulled along by the magic enchanting the boat. Nevertheless, the boy's worry was mounting, and it did not take Legilimency for Albus to know it.
In an effort to sooth some of Harry's fears, Albus spoke, "Ah, Voldemort reveals his lack of wisdom once again. In attempting to frighten us with the bodies of the dead, and darkness on all sides, he only ever shows us that which he himself fears. Truly, it is the unknown that we fear when we see death and darkness, but nothing more."
There was a flicker of hope born inside Harry, one that Albus could easily feel, but there was still a magnitude of doubts. "Just remember Harry," he continued, "like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness, they fear light and warmth, which therefore we shall call to our aid should the need arise. Fire, and Light Harry."
That seemed to help calm the boy's nerves, knowing that they had a plan of action if the dead should choose to not remain so, and that was enough. Finally, after what felt far longer than the fifteen or so minutes that they spent crossing the lake, their little boat arrived at its predesigned destination, bumped gently against a small island in the middle of the lake, and stopped. "Careful not to touch the water," Albus reminded Harry as they disembarked.
It was a rather small island, no larger than the Headmaster's office back at Hogwarts, and perfectly flat and unadorned, except for the source of the green light in the very center. Alatar swooped down and landed soundlessly, his wings melting away back into part of his robes, which was an extremely astounding bit of Transfiguration the academic in Albus commented.
The object from which the light emanated was a stone basin, much like the one Albus contained his Pensieve within, sitting upon a waist high pedestal. The three wizards surrounded the basin and cautiously glanced within. It was filled with an emerald liquid that had a phosphorescent glow to it.
"What is it?" Harry asked quietly.
"I am not sure," Albus confessed. "Something more worrisome than blood and bodies to be sure, however." He pushed back the sleeve of his injured hand and reached down to touch the surface of the potion.
Only, he met an invisible barrier about an inch above the liquid's surface, preventing any manipulation of the liquid by physical or magical means. "Ingenious," he commented grudgingly. Lifting his head to face the other two, Albus concluded, "It has to be drunk…" with a twirl of his wand Albus conjured a crystal goblet on the edge of the basin.