Chapter 3: The Crystal
Armando Dippet, headmaster of Hogwarts, was walking through the forbidden forest on the night of December 10th, 1955. He had been doing this a lot for the past ten years. He had to. He was drawn to the forest and what lay within it. He, like another, younger and less foolish man, believed himself to be the only one to discover it.
Tom Riddle had felt the crystal in the forest as soon as it had landed there in his sixth year (a decade or so previously). He sought it out immediately, and realized that he could amass great power from it. Without noticing or attracting the attention of its sleeping occupants, Tom took power from the shining blue light. The first time he approached the crystal, the whole thing turned black and dull. He soon realized that this was what he had been looking for—he could use the crystal to siphon torn pieces of his soul from his body into other objects to make his horcruxes. He loved the feeling whenever he approached the crystal and turned it black with a new ripped part of his soul. The blue was familiar and made him uncomfortable, though, and the blue always returned when his soul had moved on to the horcrux.
Unlike the rising Lord Voldemort, Professor Dippet had never actually found the massive crystal until this night in December. He had spent nights searching it out, feeling its power drawing him. He greedily craved the power.
On this cold night he found it. Breaking through the woods into a clearing, the light changed from the reflective white of snow, to a glowing blue. There, the crystal towered between the snowy trees, blinking blue at Dippet in the moonlight, untainted by the dark force that once fed on it. Dippet walked, hypnotized through the snow towards it, his eyes glowing with greed. He could feel its power, much greater than his own. He wanted it.
Armando Dippet was a great educator, but was never a great wizard. He knew nothing of light and dark powers except that one was good and one was bad. He knew nothing of magical energy, except that it powered his spells. He knew nothing of the consequences that were involved with messing with powers greater than he. He was a good man, and full of life. Those two things would be his downfall.
Armando Dippet raised his wand in one hand, and reached out with the other hand for the nearest spire of blue crystal. He touched it, stiffened in shock, and died.
In the castle, Albus Dumbledore, transfiguration teacher, sat bolt upright in his bed, the puff on his nightcap swinging. In that very instant, he had been made headmaster of Hogwarts and he wanted to know why.
His fingers were tingling with the magic that had awoken him. The castle was telling it's new headmaster where he needed to go.
Dumbledore stepped out of his purple silk sheets wearing his matching purple silk pajamas, and picked up the Elder Wand. He transfigured his pajamas into thick robes as he dashed out of the bedchamber that was no longer his—he knew he was now to call the headmaster's tower his.
He sped through passageways behind tapestries and hallways until he reached the entry hall. The front doors flew open of their own accord, as if the castle wanted to impress its new master. Dumbledore's graceful figure darted across the field of snow, and there he stopped very suddenly. He closed his eyes. The air was still and silent, but his long auburn hair blew as if by a warm summer wind. He breathed in and out through his nose, opened his eyes and took off once more across the smooth powder and disappeared into the trees of the forest.
Dumbledore came very quickly upon the towering object of Dippet's ten year search. Dippet himself lay at the foot of the crystal like a child about to make a snow angel.
Dumbledore halted far enough from the spiraling tower of crystal that he could see its entirety. Once more, he closed his eyes and stood still. Though no wind could penetrate this deep in the forest, Dumbledore's hair swirled around him and his robes billowed. While his eyes were shut, lights danced within the crystal unlike during either of its two previous encounters. Dumbledore, however, was unaware of this, as his eyes were shut. When he opened his eyes, the crystal had gone back to normal, but, had there been an observer, they would have seen that Dumbledore's eyes had taken on the intrigued blue dancing of the crystal. They did not betray greed, as Dippet's had, but were awestruck.
Dumbledore drifted towards the crystal, and carefully placed his hand upon it. Instead of trying to draw energy from the crystal, he looked as if he were trying to feed it with his own energy.
And then he stopped, inexplicably, and looked mildly disappointed. He turned around, and walked out of the forest and back to the castle, floating Armando Dippet beside him.
Meanwhile, Harry, unseen by any of the observers of the crystal, was still reliving memories, and six of the objects in the crystal had woken up. The Bowling Ball woke with a start, searching around itself for a threat. One of the Muggle Records, whose name had worn off its round black surface, was analyzing its instincts. A particularly well crafted felt woman's Hat was enjoying gazing through the beautiful crystal. The Lightning Broom was checking over its sleek frame for damage. Harry's Wand was curiously noticing the aura radiating off of the Egg, and the Egg knew that its time had come.
Harry, still flitting through his memories, was at his thirty seventh birthday party, cutting a slice of cake for Neville… Neville had grown very handsome since they had met last, thought Harry distractedly.
Harry was in his crib, watching Voldemort turn his wand on his mother.
Harry was on the back of a dragon with Hermione and Ron.
Harry had taken to talking to Luna. They were on a long walk in the park, and between telling stories, each would point out men they thought were attractive. Luna exclusively liked men who's ears stuck out enough to let in Whizbatts.
Harry stood immobile, watching as Dumbledore's visage was aflame with green light from Snape's wand. And then the freezing spell was broken and Harry could move.
And he could move.
More specifically, he could move his legs. Harry's head and shoulders were still encased in blue crystal, but the crystal was receding as he watched. However, at the moment, the world was distorted and blue around him, and he couldn't breathe.
He kicked out with his legs, but was unable to free himself. Great, he thought. I've been killed and brought back to life, only to suffocate. Later he would wonder how he knew so certainly that he'd died.
Several feet above his head, the dark mass of the Bowling Ball freed itself from the crystal, and dropped onto the crystal surrounding his head. With a crunch the crystal cracked, and Harry could breathe, but was unable to move for several more minutes. The moment he was free, he jumped up, still standing on a shrinking island of blue crystal, and looked around hastily to get his bearings.
The crystal was shrinking, leaving behind a large patch clear of snow. By the light of the remaining crystal and the reflective snow, he could make out the trees surrounding him. He was in a clearing that looked familiar. How could he forget? It was the clearing in which Voldemort had temporarily killed him. He looked around to see if he was reliving another memory, but, seeing the crystal, he knew he was not.
On high alert, he looked around keenly, crouching low to the ground. He spotted three sets of footprints. Two led into the clearing and stopped at the edge of the snow by where the crystal had been, and one led away. Two people had been there recently, and only one had departed on foot.
After deeming that there was no immediate danger, Harry inspected his situation. He patted himself down. He still had all of his important body parts, and his auror's kit. He found the time turner around his neck. It had been cracked by the crystals wedged in its cogs. Scattered around him were the former contents of the crystal resting in the snow, and beyond them the trees of the Forbidden Forest. He was near Hogwarts, the only home he ever had.
He blinked.
Harry's thoughts were wiped, and instead he was just feeling. Around him was glowing red, and he felt an overwhelming love for something near him. He knew it was close. He felt something touch his consciousness but…
He blinked again and he was, again, observing the objects around him through his locks of black hair. He looked around the clearing, uneasily wondering if someone was tampering with his head.
He blinked.
Harry was heavy and powerful, but had no eyes. He had no touch, no smell. His only sense was an aura of intention and perception which spread out around him, paranoid, searching for danger, but none appeared. So he—
He blinked and he was peering though his glasses into the dark. He wondered if out of body experiences were normally symptoms of being stuck in a glowing blue crystal. But, he reasoned, he was Harry Potter and had faced much worse.
He blinked.
He was long and wiry and filled with energy. He was confident that he could do anything, go anywhere. He could fly, he could soar, he could—
He blinked, and stooped to find his Wand. It was sitting by the Egg, which was much closer than he remembered. He picked up his Wand, and blinked.
And he understood all of the magic around him. He was small, but this part of his soul (for he now understood that these perceptive auras were part of his soul) stretched wide, and was stretching wider. Most relevantly, he understood his own magic, and how it must have changed in the crystal. He felt his soul, and he felt how it had bubbled—not ripped, but grown—into seven parts, and how six of them now rested in the objects around him. They were still a part of him, but they allowed him to grow and expand and change. It was like having seven whole souls that were connected by magic. He knew which objects were now a part of him, and that each of them represented a different function of his soul. And they gave him power that he never knew existed. He could feel the world around him, and he knew that he was not in the world that he had left, or the time, anyway.
He blinked.
So he had changed. His out of body experiences were different parts of his soul.
He stooped once more, and looked at the Egg closely, with new recognition in his eyes. "Come out, come out," he chuckled. When the Egg did not respond, he scooped it up and sighed. As he touched it, he felt a brief flash of playful defiance. The creature in the egg clearly had control over his that part of his soul, "that aura," said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Luna's.
He shrunk the rest of the objects in the clearing except for the Broom and put them into his auror's bag. The crystal was gone, except for the part still lodged in the broken time turner around his neck. Harry removed the time turner and placed it in his bag. He swung the invisibility cloak out of his pouch, and draped it over himself. He climbed onto his Broom—part of his soul— (briefly feeling the comforting sensation that he could handle anything), and soared off into the night to meet the future, or, unbeknownst to him, the past.