Chapter 50: Fire and Fog
Albus stood on the quidditch pitch on the morning of Friday the Twentieth of December at five minutes to one in the afternoon. He stood tall, despite having been awake all night looking for Harry. Harry had not been in his tower, as far as Albus could tell through magic and a glance through his window from a broom. Harry had not been to any meals since he disappeared from the greenhouse, and had not shown up to the morning's duels.
Rufus Scrimgeour had beaten Dorcas Meadows in the semi finals, and Alastor Moody had crushed Scrimgeour in the student final, but Albus had not been there to watch. He'd been looking for Harry.
Albus had checked all over campus, the room of requirement, and the clearing in the forest repeatedly, but by lunch he was resigned to the fact that he'd sooner search all of the sky before finding Harry if Harry—or Fawkes— did not wish to be found.
So Albus was standing on the quidditch pitch. The stands were almost full of students, waiting to see the powerful professors Albus and Harry duel—the last duel of the tournament. Minerva had informed Albus that there were bets on each of them, and Albus had asked Minerva if anyone had bet on a cancelation.
But nonetheless, he stood on the field, waiting for one-o-clock or Harry, whichever came first.
The students started muttering. The duelists were always preparing a few minutes before the duel, but no one could seem to spot Professor Crockett.
The minutes ticked down until the start of the duel. Fifty six…fifty seven…fifty eight…No Harry.
Fifty nine…fifty nine thirty…fifty nine forty five…
The bell rang to start the duel, and an almighty tower of fire appeared in the middle of the field, swirling, rising.
The students and teachers alike gasped in the stands. Albus stood where he was, looking straight into the heart of the flames as they shrank and died.
There was Harry in a broad circle of burned grass. His hands were at his sides, and he did not hold a wand. He did not wear glasses, and his feet were bare. His hair was sticking up at stranger angles than usual and his robes could have been woven out of gold.
He saw Albus and his eyes went wide. He looked around confused at the stadium for a moment. Then his face went blank again.
His face was blank, but Albus could see fire behind his green eyes.
Albus squinted at Harry for a moment before sending a full body bind in his direction. Harry grinned as the spell approached, and the crowd gasped, thinking it would hit. It didn't hit. At the last moment, Harry vanished in fire, the spell continuing straight through.
Harry reappeared ten yards behind Albus, and Albus spun around. Albus sent another simple spell at Harry, but Harry vanished again and reappeared to Albus's left.
"Are you going to attack me?" asked Albus, turning to face Harry again.
Harry didn't reply, but Albus burst into flames. Albus had already cast a shield, so the flames did nothing but make him a little warm. The flames died and Albus stepped closer to Harry.
"Where is Harry's wand?"
Harry glared at Albus.
"Why aren't you using his magic?"
Harry just kept glaring. Albus kept approaching.
"Can you use his magic? I know you can't speak."
Albus was ten feet away.
"Why are you still here?"
Albus raised his wand, and with a flash of fire the wand disappeared.
"I am disarmed. What are you going to do now?"
Albus burst into flames again, but he had already cast a wandless shield. The flames melted away.
"Phoenixes don't kill," said Albus. "You don't even eat meat. Why are you doing this, Fawkes?"
And then, in a rather uncharacteristic move, Albus dove, trying to tackle Harry to the ground. He missed and Harry vanished again.
Albus picked himself up and looked up at the score board displaying the magic.
"Full Body Bind: Dumbledore
"Freezing Charm: Dumbledore
"Shield Charm: Dumbledore
"Unknown: Dumbledore"
He clicked his fingers. As he watched, another spell was added to the list.
"Unknown: Dumbledore"
If the spell had not been wandless, it would have said "Summoning Charm: Dumbledore."
Harry reappeared some ways away. His entire focus was on Albus. He was not as interested in the display board as Albus, nor interested at all. He stood still on his patch of grass, watching Albus—except that Albus suddenly had great clouds of opaque purple fog rising all around him, spreading and blossoming over the pitch. Soon Harry was enveloped in the fog, and the stadium started to resemble a large cauldron, filled to the brim with purple smoke. No onlooker could see thorough to Albus or Harry, but someone particularly observant might have noticed something shiny and gold fly through the air and vanish into the fog.
Within the fog, Albus caught the little gold object—which was, in fact, a time turner. He slipped it around his neck and waited a few moments to give himself enough time with the cloud cover to go back into. Then, he crept through towards where Harry was.
After a few minutes of searching, he spotted Harry a few feet in front of him, his shining gold robes mercifully ostentatious, even through the fog. Albus let out a cry that passed for surprise. Harry heard him and, as usual, vanished in a ball of flame. The fog glowed orange for ten feet around.
Albus quickly cast a wandless floating charm on his boots and rose up into the air like a cork in water just in time to see the purple fog flash orange for a moment at the other end of the pitch. He quickly memorized where he'd seen Harry reappear (roughly the center of the orange patch), and sank back into the fog.
He then moved a ways away from where he'd found Harry in the fog so that when he went back in time, he would not arrive on top of Harry. He pulled the time turner out of his robes, and twisted it slightly—less than an eighth of a revolution.
The fog whirled around him as time ticked backwards, and then it stopped, and he was standing where he'd been, but just a few minutes in the past.
He moved quickly through the fog, making sure he didn't cross paths with himself or Harry. Finally, he reached where he'd seen the flash of orange. He levitated himself out of the fog just to check, and then sank back down and waited.
Finally, he heard himself cry out, the signal he'd left himself to know when Harry vanished, and readied himself.
Flames pierced the air inches in front of Albus's face and he dove forward, singing his hands and face in the process. He hit something solid—a solid Harry—and the two of them toppled to the ground.
The flames died down and both Harry and Albus breathed quietly for a moment.
"Albus?" asked Harry.
"Why yes," said Albus. "I see you're back with us, Harry."
"…Why is everything purple, Albus? Are we in one of your dreams again?"
"Alas, no. We are in the middle of a duel. Fawkes took it upon himself to get you here…Harry, do you have any idea where you were last night? Can you tell me what's been happening?"
"I remember…the greenhouses. When was that?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"Oh. I…I think flying? And…teleporting? They're dim memories, but…we must have gone all around the world. Oh! And I remember…just a second. There was just a moment where I saw you on the pitch, and I looked around, and then he took over again. That must have been when we got here…I couldn't really see much—I still can't—I don't have my glasses."
"Do you know why Fawkes wanted to take you back here?" asked Albus.
"I don't think he did," said Harry. "I've been looking forward to this duel for months, though. The notion must have leaked into him somehow. I just knew I had to be here. –Albus, what's that on your face?" asked Harry, spotting the burns he'd made.
"It's nothing, Harry. Just a few burns."
"Did I…did he…did we do that?"
"Don't worry about it. There's nothing either of us can do about it at the moment, as neither of us have wands. Actually…I could probably heal it wandlessly…"
The burn that appeared to Harry's blurred vision as a smudge on Albus's face began to fade. Albus sighed. "Better. But there are more pressing things. For instance—"
The bell rang, signaling the end of the duel.
"…Who won?" asked Harry.
"I. You cannot do magic."
"I could probably use Fawkes's magic," said Harry indigently. "I could teleport out."
"Really? Could you get my wand back?"
"Uhh…" Harry laughed nervously. "I don't think I'll risk a relapse. Can you clear up the smoke?"
Albus waved his hand and the fog began to dissipate.
When the scoreboard was visible, Albus hummed. "Curious," he said.
"Sorry, but what's curious?" asked Harry.
"We seem to have tied again."
"Why is that so curious?" asked Harry.
"For one, because I have an unbeatable wand…"
"Ah…yes…well," said Harry, who still hadn't told Albus that he, too, was master of the Elder Wand. "Don't be a bad sport." Albus scoffed. "We should stand up now," said Harry, changing the subject.
"Indeed," said Albus.
The two of them detangled and stood up. The last of the fog cleared away, and the two looked up at the stadium and took bows.
"And with that," said Albus, his voice wandlessly booming all over the stadium, "we conclude the dueling tournament. Have a lovely afternoon." The students and professors cheered and clapped and started filing out.
"Albus, I'm famished. I think I'll go to the kitchens."
"No, Harry. I think we need to figure out what's going on."
"Really, Albus. I'm about to faint." Harry's eyes were un-focusing.
"I'll summon you some food. Come up to my office."
"Let me just…"
Albus grabbed Harry's arm and turned them face to face.
"No, Harry."
"Oh!" Harry blinked a few times. "I…am not hungry anymore. The second you touched me, it's like you woke me up."
"As I thought," said Albus. "You said you were tired just before you left last night. Do you remember?"
"Sort of."
"Let's go to your tower and get your wand," suggested Albus. "I have a theory…"