And here it is! the highlight of the early portion of the story, and the answer to the 5-book-long question: Who Is Faykan Undol? R&R and enjoy! ~F
Chapter Eighteen
The Lords of Light and Darkness
Voldemort had watched the short battle between Bellatrix and Potter, extremely curious about the mouse-haired boy that defeated his strongest follower. He beckoned again to the boy, "Join me boy, and together we can rule the entire wizarding world."
The boy glared back, smirking at him almost in amusement. "Never!"
Voldemort laughed again, the boy was brave indeed, to stand up to him, "Pitiful boy, why suffer horrific death, when you can join me, and perform extraordinary things. Join me, now, and your friends will be shown Lord Voldemort's mercy."
"SAVE YOUR PITY AND YOUR MERCY, I HAVE NO USE FOR IT!" the boy bellowed, conjuring a massive fireball, which roared across the room at Voldemort. "Protect Harry!" the boy yelled, advancing toward him in the spell's wake. With a slash of his wand, the Dark Lord banished the boy's pathetic attack, watching in amusement as the boy walked to his death, and his friends raised shielding wards around Potter, while the largest of the boys restrained Potter from dashing out to assist his friend.
"I gave you the chance to aid me willingly," Voldemort sighed, "but if you will not join me, you will be destroyed... Avada Kedavra!" the jet of green light flew at the boy.
Again, the silver sword in his hand swung, deflecting the curse of death away from him. The boy responded by wordlessly sending several violet jets of light at Voldemort. They arced through the air and spiraled toward him, until the Dark Lord simply apparated out of their path, reappearing several yards to the left, and assaulting the boy with a barrage of curses, including Unforgivables.
The boy was forced to raise his arms and conjure a massive, shining force field, blocking and deflecting most of the curses, while a few still struck through, slicing the boy's shoulder and leg. Voldemort hissed in annoyance at the display of power, the boy was far too talented to be left alive, and in Dumbledore's control.
It was curious that the boy's power seemed to be steadily building as they fought, and the Dark Lord could see the little sigils on the boy's belt glowing with cold power. So, he collected trinkets to boost his magic… no matter, Voldemort would enjoy ripping them from the boy's dead grasp.
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It was a battle unlike anything Harry had witnessed. Terry, Anthony and Michael were holding up a combined protective ward around them all, and Blaise was holding Harry, who had been trying to reach Faykan, but now the they all watched with open mouths as Faykan and Voldemort sent jets of light at each other, blocking and dodging with skill that Harry had only guessed that his best friend had possessed. But it didn't stop him from being forced on the defensive by Voldemort's onslaught of curses.
Faykan gritted his teeth as he maintained his shimmering shield around him, slowly stepping backwards as Voldemort advanced, laughing as his wand danced through the air, bombarding Faykan with a wide arrange of spells and curses.
But after a moment, Harry noticed that Faykan's shield was steadily growing brighter and stronger. And the boy's mouth was slowly moving, chanting a strange rhyme that seemed to have been going around the castle for the last several months:
"When the Dark Comes Rising, Six shall turn it back!
Three from the Circle, Three from the Track!
Wood, Bronze, Iron, Water, Fire Stone!
Five shall return, and one go alone!"
Finally, Faykan spun to the side, dodging the next wave of spells, and yelled, "ehta en' kalian!"
From his wand burst a shaft of pure light, racing at Voldemort, who was forced to raise a shield made of shadows to absorb the attack.
"Ale'quel en' Caradhras!" Faykan bellowed, leveling a powerful stream of ice and snow at Voldemort, who countered with fire spewing from his own wand. The fire melted through Faykan's spell and the boy apparated away, appearing behind Voldemort, who spun and launched another Killing Curse.
"Silma naara!"Pale white light connected with violent green, linking Voldemort and Faykan's wands.
Voldemort jerked his wand, attempting to break the connection and launching bolts of lightning over the beam at Faykan, who ducked and dodged around them, dropping Glamdring to the ground and grasping his wand with both hands to maintain the beam.
Suddenly, Faykan wrenched his wand upward, causing the beam to rocket into the ceiling, deluging rubble upon Voldemort, similar to what Faykan did to Bellatrix, but the Dark Lord apparated away again, appeared closer to the telephone box that led to the streets of London.
Faykan whirled, jabbing at the stone floor with his wand, "falma en' kemen!" The stone floor buckled, then rose upward, pouring over itself in a massive earthen wave.
Harry thought Voldemort would not escape the torrent of stone, but an explosion rocked the entire hall as he blasted through the wall of earth, flying toward Faykan on a cloud of pure darkness.
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The boy was gifted. Lord Voldemort acknowledged this, but he was far stronger, and they boy would tire eventually and then finally die. The only thing that concerned him were the little circle of power. The little chant that activated them seemed to be old, and Voldemort was certain that he had investigated every trace of ancient magical object in his own quest for power.
But that had not uncovered everything, clearly. Tapping into the power of his new ring, Voldemort cast himself at the boy, allowing shadows to support his body as he fired tendrils of darkness to entangle the boy's legs.
The boy leaped at Voldemort, his body shifting midair, and transforming into a large, jet black, fox-like creature with many tails. The boy had an animagus form! The fox rammed into Voldemort, snapping at his neck and ripping into his robes with its paws.
The Dark Lord struggled, grabbing the beast's head with his free hand and trying to line up his wand to kill the boy. Finally, the Dark Lord realized that the fox-hound was not going to fall by his wand and slipped into his own empowered form, rising and elongating, until he towered over the weak mortal that had challenged him.
Turning his massive head, he quickly glanced at Potter and his friends, standing with no defenses, watching the battle with open mouths. He would crush them after he dealt with this nuisance.
With a roar he barreled at the tiny creature, snapping his jaws and lashing with his enormous body, writhing and flailing to strike the quick canine. Opening his gaping maw wide, Voldemort shot a torrent of dragon's fire at the boy, twisting and turning to chase him as the boy's animagus jumped and dodged, occasionally shooting pitiful jets of fire or lightning at Voldemort. These small bursts of power merely deflected off his powerful black scales, as the ancient Wyrms were impervious to fire.
Voldemort kept attacking, backing the boy into the far wall, and finally struck the wolf-fox creature with his massive tail, slamming it into the wall with a pained yelp. The boy shifted back into a human, lying on the ground in agony, just as Voldemort spewed flames onto him, igniting the stone all around him, and consuming the boy's body. Potter screamed, and Voldemort flicked his eyes back to them.
The boys had snapped out of their trance as their friend fell, and threw up their meager defenses again, standing steadfastly as the towering body of the Dark Lord advanced on them, "Now you see the futility of fighting Lord Voldemort…" he said, his voice loud and booming as he spoke from the mouth of the Wyrm, "I have nothing more to say to you or your allies, Potter. You have irked me too often, for too long..."
They boys gaped up at his as he opened his mouth wide, preparing to devour all five of them at one, when he spotted the lift doors opening behind them. "Dumbledore…"
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Albus saw the moment that Will Stanton fell before Voldemort. The boy's fiery death was another knife in his heart, another wasted life that could have served him better throughout this war. But this was not the time to grieve lost opportunities, as the great black form of Voldemort loomed over Harry and five other boys.
"It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom." Albus said calmly, walking up to the Fountain of Magical Brethren casually, thinking quickly. "The Aurors are on their way…"
"By which time I shall be gone, and you, like the boy, will be dead!" Spat Voldemort, and he launched a jet of flame from his mouth at Albus. Waving his wand at the pool, Albus charmed the water to fly upward, meeting the fire and evaporating it, leaving a mound of steam that rose to the ceiling.
Voldemort shifted, changing back to his human form, and firing a Killing Curse at Albus. Another wave of the Elder Wand, and the statues of the fountain were animated, and the golden witch jumped in front of him, deflecting the green jet with a gong-like note.
The goblin and house elf statues ran to the fireplaces, Flooing through to retrieve the Aurors and the Minister, while the golden Wizard herded the children away, and the Centaur and Witch stood on each side of Albus, as they faced down Voldemort and the flames that had effectively cremated young Will Stanton.
Albus flicked the Elder Wand a single time, launching a powerful stunner that rocketed at Voldemort, who conjured a silver shield to block it; the spell shattered the metal and knocked the Dark Lord back several paces. Albus took the opportunity to touch the stone token from Lord Zemar, calling upon the other Light Lord for aid.
"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" Voldemort sneered, his scarlet eyes narrowing as he stalked in a circle, copied by Albus and his golden guards, each waiting for the other to cast first, "Above such brutality?"
"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," Albus said calmly, his eyes darting from Voldemort's wand, to the man's face, to the flames behind him and back. Was it his imagination, or was the fire growing? "Merely taking your life would not satisfy me I admit…"
"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" Voldemort snarled.
"Naur en' coia, fea en' i' kemen…" sounded a voice from the center of the roiling flames. Voldemort turned, and Albus stared, eyes wide, as a figure manifested from the inferno, eyes glowing brilliantly white, as well as six lined orbs of white light swirling around him. The form appeared to be a young boy, rising upward as the flames started to spiral and spin, whirling into a bright orange pillar of fire. The form rose, soaring upward to crest above the whirling conflagration, as if the fire itself supported him. Albus gasped.
Will Stanton, whole and very much alive, wielding a staff of silver crowned with a gem of blue white power, rode upon the whirlwind of fire. Six strange objects of power circled around him, glowing brilliant white in the gloom of the Atrium.
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Voldemort watched as the boy balanced in midair upon the swirling flames, his eyes glowing with a power that blinded him to look at. The boy's magic filled the entire Atrium, and the Dark Lord could feel it ringing in the back of his mind, overwhelming all other powers in the room. Behind him, Dumbledore moved to cover Potter and the other Hogwarts students, looking as wary and cautious as Voldemort himself felt.
Suddenly, without warning and with terrible speed, the fiery pillar supporting the insanely powerful boy bent, writhing like a serpent as the boy moved and weaved, launching waves of powerful fire at Voldemort, who was forced into a completely defensive position. The flames were like nothing he had ever encountered, arching and bending in air, striking at him from unpredictable angles, responding intimately to the boy's silent commands.
Finally, with an almighty scream of fury, the boy dived toward the ground, jabbing his staff forcefully at Voldemort, funneling all the flame that comprised his support through the orbiting circle of sigils. The Dark Lord threw up his most powerful shield, absorbing and deflecting the fire that threatened to consume him.
Dumbledore took the opportunity to launch his own attack, bombarding the opposite side of his shield with curses and stunners, trying to weaken it and let the fire surrounding Voldemort to break through.
Voldemort yelled in anger as his shield started to buckle. Flames licked the insides, burning his robes and singeing his skin. The last moment before the shield broke completely, Voldemort disapparated, moving toward the pool where the golden statues once stood. The remainder of the flames sailed past, deflected by a quickly raised shield of Dumbledore's, and deeply scorched the wall behind him.
The two Light Lords advanced on him, wand and staff raised threateningly at him. Voldemort send a killing curse at Dumbledore, followed by a torrent of pure darkness at the mysterious boy. The old wizard dodged, allowing the curse to detonate on the security stand, igniting it in raging fire. Meanwhile, the boy slammed his staff upon the ground, causing brilliant light to emanate from the gem crowning it, burning off the darkness as effectively as any shield.
It wasn't possible, Voldemort thought as he stalked backward, trying to keep space between him and the two light wizards. No mere child could contain this much power. "Who, or what are you!?" he spat, glaring at the boy who stared back with an equal look of loathing.
"Why, don't you recognize me Tom?" he replied, smirking. Voldemort snarled, but at once the boy's appearance changed, the round face lengthening, the hair turning black and lengthening, and the eyes changing to a piercing blue, very similar to… It couldn't be.
"Undol…" he hissed, inwardly seething. How long was the boy's family to plague him? Every generation, the same face tormented him, those same eyes.
"The very same Tom, the very same that you thought to have killed three times now," Faykan Undol said, smirking in that same way that Tom had hated so much during school.
Glancing at Dumbledore, Voldemort noted that this news was just as startling to the old Headmaster as it was to him.
"Why won't you just die?!" Voldemort roared, releasing a pulse of power, surprising them all and knocking everyone else in the room the floor, and shattering all the glass of the offices high above. With a jerk of his wand, Voldemort caused the raining glass to hurtle at his opponents, who both conjured shining shields to protect themselves, demolishing the shards of glass into harmless sand.
Voldemort knew he stood no chance at defeating them both at the same time, and it was time for both himself and Bellatrix to flee. But he had one more thing he wanted to attempt; perhaps possessing the Potter boy will break these two lords.
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Blaise, Anthony, Terry, and Michael were knocked unconscious by Voldemort's unexpected spell, but Harry was shielded by his statue guard. He huddled behind the golden wizard, who had lost its head some time during the battle. Voldemort turned to glance at Dumbledore, then back at Faykan, and then vanished in a swirl of shadows and darkness.
Surely it was over; surely Voldemort had decided to flee. Harry made to run out from behind his statue guard, but Faykan bellowed, "Stay where you are, Harry!"
Harry didn't understand what he meant. Then his scar burst open and he knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance…
He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creatures began: they were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape…
And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move…
"You've lost old fools…" Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again, "If death is nothing, Light Lords, kill the boy…"
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Albus watched concernedly as Faykan ran to Harry's body, now the puppet of Voldemort. The boy was standing over Harry's fallen body, gazing angrily as Voldemort used Harry's body to laugh and mock him. "You lack the power to save him boy. You are nothing compared to Lord Voldemort."
Faykan spread his arms wide, eyes still blazing with power, and suddenly his entire body shone with white light, dazzling Albus. Gone were the tattered and burned Hogwarts robes, and in their place were shining blue ones, lined in silver.
Within the light, the voice of an old man, mingled with a young boy's, spoke, "You know not the power of the Istari Tom… I will withdraw you as poison is draw from a wound!" the staff swung to point directly at Harry, and Albus felt more than saw the immense amount of power fly between the boys, trying to shock Voldemort out of Harry's mind.
"If I go, the boy will die!" Harry yelled in Voldemort's voice.
Another pulse of raw magic emanated from Faykan's staff, "You did not kill me. You will not kill him!" Faykan replied, pressing more and more magic into Harry's body.
"The Wizarding World will be mine," Voldemort continued, struggling to fight of the power of Faykan magic, "You old fools with your love will never win against me…"
"By the power of the Valar, and my right as Seeker of the Six Signs of the Light, I, Alatar the Azure, command you to be gone, Tom Riddle!" Faykan cried, sending the most powerful pulse of magic yet into Harry's body.
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Harry felt Faykan's magic surging through him as his friend attacked the creature living inside him, driving it away, "Kentano, remember those who love you…"
Harry remembered.
He remembered Hermione, Ron, Draco, Hagrid, the Weasleys, the members of the D.A., Professor Snape, all those who cared about him and loved him. He remembered Sirius and his parents, who had died to keep him alive. And Faykan, he remembered Faykan, his brother, his best friend, who had breached death itself to remain with him.
And as Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creatures coils loosened, the pain was gone; Harry was lying face down on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not stone…
And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been... Harry opened his eyes, saw his glasses lying by the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head a little to find Faykan swooping down to embrace him.
"Are you all right, Harry?"
"Yes," said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. "Yeah, I'm… where's Voldemort, where… who are all these… what's…"
The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into fire in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As Faykan pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward to meet Dumbledore.
"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"
"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles, spinning his head to gaze at all the damage. "Merlin's beard… here… here! In the Ministry of Magic! …great heavens above… it doesn't seem possible… my word… how can this be…?"
"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, as calmly as though nothing had really happened to cause all the destruction and chaos surrounding them all, "you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."
"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. "You… here? I…I…"
He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"
"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men, and win, again!" said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. "But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!"
"I don't… well…" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well… Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see... Dumbledore, you… you will need to tell me exactly… all this devastation… what happened?" he added in a kind of whimper, continuing to gape at the mounds of rubble and broken statues that coated the floor of the Atrium.
"We can discuss my battle with Voldemort after I get Harry and his friends back to school," Dumbledore said, and Harry tensed at the lie that the old man had so easily told.
Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still sitting on the ground, Faykan holding his shoulders still from where he had help to push Voldemort out of his mind.
"He? Here?" said Fudge, goggling at Harry. "Why… what's all this about?"
"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry is back at school."
He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's statue lay, its head lying separate a few feet away, having been blown off by one of the many spells that were fired during the battle.
Dumbledore pointed his wand at the head and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.
"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry and Faykan carrying it. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you… you…"
His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.
"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you..." Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it, "half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."
Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair. "I… you…"
Dumbledore turned his back on him.
"Take this Portkey, boys." He said, holding the head out to both Harry and Faykan. Faykan stared at Dumbledore.
"Please do as I ask," Dumbledore said calmly, offering the portkey and Faykan grudgingly placed a hand on the head, Harry following suit.
"I shall see you in half an hour, please wait for me in my office until then" said Dumbledore quietly staring more at Faykan than Harry, "One... two... three"
Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. The polished stone floor was gone from beneath his feet; the Atrium, Fudge and Dumbledore had all disappeared and he was flying forwards in a whirlwind of color and sound, only Faykan at his side as they landed in Dumbledore office. Harry's legs buckled, and Faykan released the golden head to support him, which sent the metal to the floor with a resounding clunk.
Everything seemed to have repaired itself during the Headmasters absence. The delicate silver instruments stood once more on the spindle-legged tables, puffing and whirring serenely. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were snoozing in their frames, heads lolling back in armchairs or against the edge of the; picture. Harry looked through the window. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon: dawn was approaching.
The silence and the stillness, broken only by the occasional grunt or snuffle of a sleeping portrait, were unbearable to him. If his surroundings could have reflected the feelings inside him, the pictures would have been screaming in pain.
"Harry…" Faykan said weakly, walking over to hold him, looping his arms around Harry and pulling him against the taller boy's chest. "I'm so sorry…" he whispered, burying his head into Harry's shoulder, "So sorry… Sirius… all my fault…"
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Albus regretted allowing the half hour he had granted Cornelius to 'explain' the reasons for the utter destruction of the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He would much rather have been discussing what had just happened with Harry and Will…Faykan…Alatar… Albus wasn't sure what name to call the boy by anymore. It seemed there was a lot more going on under his own nose than he would care to admit.
It was a simple matter to convince the foolish Minister that he alone had fought a great duel with Voldemort, causing all the damage they saw around them. Not to mention the older prophecy, Harry and his friends entering the Ministry by Thestrals, (Albus thought that was a nice touch that he added) even though he knew they entered by a portkey and that there were two prophecies missing.
The Order members had already taken the other students to the Hogwarts Infirmary by the time the Aurors came to collect the Death Eaters and examine the Dark Creatures that the boy had slain. Naturally, no one more than those that had actually seen Faykan revealed in the Atrium needed to know of the boy's survival, hopefully Albus would be able to persuade him to his side this time, or eliminate him if necessary.
But as Albus Flooed to his office at Hogwarts, he chided himself. If what he suspected of the boy was true, there was no force on earth that could truly defeat him…
Emerging from the fireplace, Albus acknowledged the greetings and welcomes of the many portraits of long dead Headmasters and Headmistresses in gracious weariness, before walking around to the shelf on which the Sorting Hat rested, drawing the Sword of Gryffindor from his belt, and replacing it in a glass case underneath the hat. Finally, Albus returned to his desk, and looked over at the two boys down near the door, embracing in a common sorrow.
Albus waited a respective few minutes before speaking, "Well, Harry. You will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."
Harry and Faykan turned to look at him finally, "Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up," Albus continued, "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend some time in St. Mungos, but it seems she will make a full recovery."
Harry nodded once, but was unable to voice anything.
Albus finally turned to look sternly at the other boy, still holding Harry around the chest, "It seems, Mr. Undol, or should I call you Alatar… that you have a bit of explaining to do…"
The boy raised a single eyebrow, almost in a mocking fashion, "You have quite a bit to answer for as well Albus."
Albus frowned, but nodded, accepting that the boy was definitely correct. It was time for Harry to learn the full and unabridged truth. Possibly even past time, now that Albus thought of it.
"Might I begin with the question of 'who are you exactly'?" Albus suggested. Faykan grimaced, but nodded, releasing Harry and leading him to one of the two chairs across the desk from Albus.
After Harry was seated, Faykan addressed them both. "I am Faykan Undol, or I should say Faykan Undol is an identity I have claimed as my own. I have been many things of the years of my long sojourn here in Arda. But I suppose the eldest and most recognizable of them would be the name of Alatar the Azure, youngest of the Istari."
Albus' eyes widened, despite his previous suspicions of this, the truth was still unexpected. Harry seemed to be unable to comprehend what Alatar was meaning.
"I've resided here in the mortal world for the entire length of time between the Istari's original arrival in Arda to the present day, some eight and a half thousand years ago if I recall correctly." The ancient wizard continued.
"But," Albus said, gently interrupting, "It was said that the Istari were clothed in the vessels of old men, yet you are young, and have been for many years."
"Yes," Alatar admitted, "to disguise myself in the more recent few centuries I took to transfiguring myself into a child's body and growing up over and over again, alongside the people I chose to associate with. Afterward I would simple revert back to my original form. But not anymore…" he trailed off, looking into Albus' eyes, and he was surprised to be fed a memory by the young Istar via legilimency.
An old man, wearing robes of a sea blue material, leaned upon an ancient looking black staff, crowned with a blue gemstone within a building made of black stone, smooth and impressive looking. The old man spoke, weaving elvish words that fluctuated in pitch and tone, sound almost like a chant or song, "A' i' quenat en' hin haba coia auta sil'."
In a massive burst of power and a flash of light, the black staff shuddered and broke asunder in the man's hand, even as the man himself began to shrink. The long beard and shaggy grey-black hair receded, retreating back into the head even as it too diminished. Moments later, in a pool of the blue robe lay a tiny, one-year-old baby, staring upward with the same brilliant blue eyes and a small mop of black hair.
"But what do you mean?" Albus pressed, curious beyond belief as the memory faded. "Why did you say not anymore?"
"I truly died last summer when Voldemort destroyed my wand. It was Harry's accidental intervention that realigned my magical core, and then again later by summoning a familiar Phoenix to restore life to my body, so that I may finish my task, as well as other things they charged me with." Faykan smirked slightly, glancing at Fawkes with a respectful nod.
Albus raised his eyebrows, guessing but not fully understanding how his familiar tied into all this.
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Harry drifted in and out of the conversation for a long time, hearing small bits and pieces that Faykan explained to Dumbledore of his revival last summer and his plot to knock both him and Voldemort off balance.
Dumbledore had taken the fact that Faykan had been fighting against him rather well, forgiving Faykan and in turn being forgiven by him for allowing them both to be placed in the Triwizard Tournament.
Dumbledore finally turn to look at Harry, "It seems that we've left Harry quite in the dark during our conversation Lord Alatar. I think its time we explain the important things to him before letting you both rest from the night's adventure." Faykan nodded, also turning to look at Harry, and placing a reassuring hand on his knee.
"I think I can guess at what you're feeling Harry," Dumbledore said very quietly, "And I want you to know that there is no shame in it Harry, on the contrary your ability to feel is probably your greatest strength."
Harry had no words to say, he felt as though if he opened his mouth he would only scream, or sob uncontrollably. "Harry, it is not your fault that Sirius died, no matter what you may think your involvement was. If I had been more open with you or Alatar, this entire situation could have been avoided and that blame lies with me and me alone."
"Am I to understand," said Phineas Nigellus slowly from the far side of the room, "that my great-great-grandson, the last of the Blacks, is dead?"
"Yes, Phineas," said Dumbledore.
"I don't believe it," said Phineas brusquely.
Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house…
"Harry, Alatar, I owe you both an explanation," said Dumbledore, "an explanation of old men and their mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you both, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age and mortality. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young... and I seem to have forgotten, lately..."
Faykan nodded in agreement.
The sun was rising properly now; there was a rim of dazzling orange visible over the mountains and the sky above it was colorless and bright. The light fell upon Dumbledore, upon the silver of his eyebrows and beard, upon the lines gouged deeply into his lace.
"I had guessed, fifteen years ago," Dumbledore continued, "when I saw the scar on your forehead Harry, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort. I was also worried at the extraordinary power that you exuded. It is very unusual for a young child, let alone a baby, to be as intoned to magic as you were. For, what I felt was the best choice for you're at the time, your safety; I sealed off a majority of your powers, to be released at a later time."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry realized that he had never seen the old Headmaster look so tired or old. With a long sigh, Dumbledore lowered them and peered at him and Faykan through his half-moon glasses, "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well, not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."
And on the old wizard went, explaining that, for Harry's own safety, he had been placed with Vernon and Petunia Dursley in the muggle world, under the protection of blood wards that were formed around his mother's sacrifice that fateful night when Harry had been orphaned. As long as the place he called home was the place where his mother's blood dwelled, Voldemort could not touch him there.
Together the three of them retraced the entire five years of Harry's exposure to the magical world, Dumbledore pointing out his hand and admitting his reasons for everything. He admitted that he, at first, had viewed Harry as a mere pawn to use in his part of the war against Voldemort, and had hoped to shape and mold him with the trials of the Stone, the Basilisk and the Triwizard Tournament, into a warrior ready to stand against Voldemort to the end, if it came to that.
Remorse shining in his deep blue eyes, Dumbledore continued to retell that he had felt threatened by Faykan in his growing attachment and influence over Harry, and had sought to gain a powerful ally by bending him also to his way of thinking. Then in their Third year, Professor Trelawney had made a second real prophecy, after the first one she had made to Harry. Faykan produced the crystal sphere that held the same prophecy, and they all listened in muted silence:
"The sleeper with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord has stirred… awaiting freedom bought with sacrifice from those whom he loves… at his side is the Slayer of Darkness who shall guide him, and together they shall wield power that time has forgotten, power the Dark Lord will envy above all else… and he shall lead men with the battle cry of phoenix song… for need shall drive him, and the earth shall quake at the power of his command. He shall walk the land till the cry of the gulls he shall hear; for the sea shall call him… the sleeper has begun to awaken…"
Dumbledore explained that he had thought the prophecy to refer to himself, Harry and Voldemort, and that he needed to remove obstructions from his control of Harry, and that he chose to set about making another pawn of Faykan. But his schemes with the Triwizard did not work as he had hoped and only resulted in Faykan's death by Voldemort.
Faykan interrupted, "It would never have worked if you tried Albus, the prophecy, for it clearly refers to… me." Harry and Dumbledore stared at him.
"My name," he clarified, "in ages past the elves of Lorien and Imladris named me Morinehtar, after my work in the southern reaches of Harad. It means… the darkness slayer. So the prophecy is literally referring to me by name. The sleeper means Harry referring to his sleeping magic, and Voldemort is naturally the Dark Lord." He smiled a bit, but said nothing more.
"That is indeed an interesting development," Dumbledore said, before turning to gaze out the window at the rising sun for several moments before turning back to them.
"This," Dumbledore said finally, looking solemnly between the pair of them, "is not the way I should have gone about my relations to you both. I honestly cannot blame either of you if you choose to never trust me again. But I hope that you can find in your hearts to forgive an old man who has forgotten to stop and see the trees instead of looking only at the forest."
Dumbledore sighed again, showing every year of his age, "It is time, time for me to place the heaviest burden upon your shoulders my boys." Dumbledore paused, seeming to try and bring himself to say what he had meant to say at last, "Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of another prophecy, made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."
ehta en' kalian : spear of light
ale'quel en' Caradhras : frost of redhorn
silma naara : starlight burn
falma en' kemen : wave of earth
naur en' coia fea en' i' kemen : fire of life, spirit of the earth
kentano : potter
a' i' quenat en' hin haba coia auta sil': to the body of a child my life go now.
Potential Spoilers Ahead, You Have Been Warned!
Tell me, how many called who Faykan was? how many though he was someone else? I wish to gague how effective my mystery subplot was, and you're reviews are the only means I have wherewith to accomplish that. From this point on things start to slowly spiral away from canon, picking up speed until the ending. and the true enemy is defeated forever! Until next time everyone! ~F