1992-04 november
When Ron entered the common room, he noticed that the fireplace was lit. Strange. Ron thought. That late in the night usually there were only embers.
The mistery was soon explained: Dumbledore was sitting in an armchair that he clearly had conjured for himself. Bright orange and forest green were hardly ravenclaw colors. The old headmadter was looking at him with his twinkling eyes and a fake surprised expression on his face.
"You must be the most restless ravenclaw to ever roam these halls." The old wizard greeted him "Even if I have to admit that young miss. Lovegood seems quite on the same track."
Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Good night to you too professor. And yes, I'll keep an eye on her." He replied, correctly understanding what the comment about Luna had really been about.
"Professor McGonagall was overjoyed by your newfound ability in her class." the headmaster praised him while setting the board.
Ron sat down with a thin but proud smile, blushing a bit. "It's my new wand, it feels like I've always been painting with my fingers, and now I have the finest brush in my hands. And it's less tirying too."
"A new wand?" the headmaster wondered while tapping one of the closed fists of the young ravenclaw. White pawn, so the old warlock would play white. "For a while I feared that you would swarm the castle with joke products, I am glad to see that your... endeavours with the chess club have been fruitful."
A few minutes in the game, Dumbledore had already gained control over the centre of the board. "With an appropriate wand you waste less magic, you could try to make your wand movements as little and precise as possible, it will probably help."
Ron nodded, thankful for the suggestion. "Why do we use wands movenents, sir? I mean, why a swish and flick for the levitation charm and three taps for feraverto?"
The headmaster looked at the curious student, smiling lightly: "I assume you've ready read Magical Theory, as it's one of the textbooks we have made you purchase for your first year."
At the nodded assent of the young ravenclaw, he went on.
"Then you know that wizards and witches are born with a magical core. It's not an organ in the sense that it does not have a 'place' in our bodies, not like our lungs or heart. And yet it behaves somewhat as a muscle, in the sense that it grows with exercise, and it naturally grows until you hit 17. After that, I fear that the only way to make it grow is through daily, heavy use of magic. But the growth is... infinitesimal, in most cases. It's like a living being itself, and the more you manage to work in synch with it, the more you become your magic and the less you use it."
"You're talking about the 'capacity' of our magical core" Ron understood, immediately recalling the correct chapter of the textbook.
"Indeed." smiled the headmaster. "Now, wand movements help directing the magic. A upturned twirl, for example, works well for lifting a vast mass of water, and it is one of the many evolutions of the swish and flick of the levitation charm. In the same way the 'tap' works well for little transfigurations, such as a matchstick into a needle, and the 'one, two three feraverto' is it's natural evolution. You must remember however, that it's your intent that truly gives meaning to your actions. After all, in september you used the same incantation with a single tap to turn a button into a beetle. The wand movements merely help in shaping the magic, forming a steady link between your intent and what you wish your magic to do."
Ron frowned in confusion: "You mean it's not really... real? That is only in our heads?"
"You should know by now that if something is in our heads then it's very real. Sometimes even more tangible than what you are used to call reality." The headmaster corrected his assumption.
After a while, the ravenclaw found himself once more focusing exclusively on the board.
"You are playing differently, sir." Ron accused him, noticing how he had been using his knights to great effect.
"I thought that with your newfound skill in transfiguration you could do with a new kind of opposition." the headmaster explained, like always without really explaining.
Ron blinked, not even trying to pretend that he had understood the d wizard's reasoning. "It's much more interesting now that I can actually apply what I understand of it, even if... can I ask you a question, sir, about transfiguration, from living to living, and maybe conjuring?"
"You already did, but don't let that stop you. Even if I must say that running so far ahead in the syllabus is acceptable only with the theory of the topics." the headmaster merrily answered, giving him an amused glance.
The message was clear: Do not get caught. Ron gulped, castling before venturing his ideas: "Let's say you wanted to transfigure a rabbit into a raven. Having an exact knowledge of the rabbit's anatomy doesn't really help, since you have to picture the change while it's happening. And it's far more useful... understanding? having a clear idea of the raven, right?"
The ancient warlock started an exchange of pieces on the board. He gave up his bishop to eat his knight, but now Ron's defense was mostly broken.
"I'm waiting for a proper question, Minerva would scold me for weeks if she caught me teaching advanced topics of her subject."
The ravenclaw collected his thoughts, trying to formulate them in an orderly manner: "The transfiguration process isn't the combined change of a lot of minor, little transfigurations. Even if a lot of changes do happen. I don't actually change a mouth into a beak, paws into talons. Shouldn't it be easier turning a rabbit into a flying raven if you cast your spell mid-jump?"
The old warlock beamed. "That would depend, on which aspect of the raven you're using as a focus." he prodded the student.
"So... the understanding of the raven, which is the end result, is more important than understanding the rabbit?" Ron asked.
The headmaster let himself rest agains the back of the armchair, the game had been decided ten minutes before anyway. "The feeling of the feathers, the playfulness of the flight without worries and the sharpness of the beak. Those are some of the defining aspects of the raven, at least in my head." the headmaster went on.
"Knowing how the bones are disposed peraphs helps building the image in your head, but it's ultimately less important than the result you wish to see. So, for example, it would be easier to transigure a snake out of a gust of wind than out of thin air. Conjuring stone is very difficult because you bring out the stone-ish side of the air. The unyelding property of an unrelenting gale."
Ron sinked into the armchair, with a satisfied smile on his face: "So I was right? Ah ha! Why is it not explained this way anywhere? It's a lot less complex than the others ways to explain it."
"Because, and forgive me if I sound a little smug, I am a very talented teacher, and I have rephrased what is written in your books so that it would more easily suit to your thought pattern."
Ron blinked, recalling his discovery from the year before. "The character of a witch or wizard make them more or less adapt at learning in a certain way." he said.
The headmaster started setting a new game, nodding with a proud smile, it was such a delight teaching, he had forgotten how beautiful it was seeing a student grasp a new idea.
"Character is a little limited. Let's just say that everyone is uniquely suited to learn or not learn in a certain way." the old warlock corrected him.
"Is this why most of our assignments require us to do research in the library? So that we can think through the why and how?" Ron asked.
Dumbledore let out a delighted laugh at that: "Indeed, it is very acute observation, if I say so myself, well done."
The ravenclaw blushed at the praise but tried to keep his focus on the board. "Before, you said that our magical core is alive. What did you mean, sir?"
The headmaster was uncharacteristcally giving way to the assaut on the board, his pieces either retreating or dying in equal exchanges. This obviously made Ron suspicious, as the headmaster was clearly a chess player belonging to a whole different league.
"Peraphs I should rephrase that." the old warlock said "What I meant is that our magic is alive, in a sense. Tied to us, but separated. At least at the beginning. But this is higly advanced magical theory, and I suggest you to focus more on the present, even if it's peraphs too late, it's checkmate in six moves."
Ron snapped his eyes from the twinkling blue orbs of the amused warlock to the board. Only then he noticed the unavoidable consequences of trying so desperatedly to promote his pawn into a queen. Dumbledore, who lost his queen in an even exchange before, would be able to corner the ravenclaw's king using knights and pawn, before bringing the checkmate with a seemingly forgotten bishop.
"You tricked me." Ron half grumbled half whined. He wasn't being fair, he knew it. Chess was so beautiful only because both the players knew that the other only wished to win, and on the board, everything was set to acconplish that goal.
"Sometimes, you need to lose, in order to win." The headmaster said. "After all, aren't you losing our matches and winning valuable knowledge at the same time?"
Having said that, the old wizard rose from his seat and followed his routine of leaving the scene with a cryptic statement. Ron distractedly wondered if it was sonething that all old wizards did, or if Dumbledore had developed his own branch of madness only to fuck with the brains of his students.
The ravenclaw left his seat as well, letting go of the focus he so desperatedly clung to during the nightly confrontation. He had the feeling that the headmaster treated every single conversation like a chessboard. It was unnerving, and if he were to ask him the why and how, the only answer he would get would be 'I am a teacher'. Which was true, Ron would readily admit that the old wizard had thought him loads.
Not only Dumbledore explained the more basic topics of magic with an insight and semplicity that inspired Ron to climb to the same heights where the older wizard soared. Not only the chess match would guarantee almost always a swift departure into Morpheus' land, but Ron had the feeling that the cryptic parting words of the headmaster where not about chess. That brought up the question: 'why would the greatest wizard of our time spend his time giving life lesson to a single student?'. The headmaster would obviously answer 'because I am a teacher', which was his elegant way to not answer at all.
He lit his wand while climbing the stsirs that led to his shared room. He entered silently and changed into his pijamas. Pointing his wand to his table, he muttered an incendio, lighting up a candle. Turning toward his bed, he whispered a diffindo and trailed his wand over the edge of the curtains, cutting them off. He folded the cloth into a multi layered square and placed it on the cold stone floor.
"I guess the wand movements are really not necessary when you have enough familiarity..." he noted to himself.
He sat down cross legged and a whispered wingardium leviosa, along with only a swish of his wand, he levitated the lit candle in front of himself. He moved it slowly, careful to not snuffle out the little flame with a sudden movement.
It was an exercise he got used to during the year before, to refine his control over the spell. He was soon ready, he put down his maple wand, put his hands on his knees and stared into the little flame.
He started regulating his own breath to not disrupt the fire that shone brightly into the otherwise dark room. The night outside of the castle was pitch black, dark clouds hiding moon and stars from view. The silence in the dorm was heavy and thick, along with the coldness of the room, it made for a slightly uncomfortable environment.
Ron breathed slowly, erasing the presence of the goosebumps on his skin, the light rustling of his clothes against his chest moving, the almost unaudible breathing of Terry, asleep behind his own curtains.
The only sounds that registered on Ron perception were only the very rare flicker of the candle and his own blood rushing through his body. Soon, even those disappeared.
He had felt cold in the beginning, but slowly, his body stopped worrying about cold and hot, there was only the flame.
Even more slowly, his thoughts about his day faded into the background of his mind, Dumbledore, chess, charms, magic no longer existed. Along with those, time stopped having any significance.
When is entire being was focused on the flame, he focused on the heat the flame held. At first he couldn't feel it. The candle is too far.
Quickly as it had appeared, even that thought disappeared into nothingness.
He reached foward, not with his hand, magic or intent, since none of the parts that made Ronald Weasley existed on its own. He simply was, and with his whole being, he reached until he could feel the heat of the candle. Heat that started being magnified and dispersed through the ravenclaw's body. The goosebumps he had forgotten about soon disappeared and he let out a sigh.
That relief broke him out of his meditative state, and he suddenly found himself again. The candle had burned through half of his lenght, that meant that he managed to keep meditating for almost an hour.
He sighed contentedly. "Now that is what I like to call a good progress."
With a few movements of his maple wand and a couple of whispered incantations, the curtains were once more attatched to his bed and the candle had found its way onto his desk. He lighted his wand before blowing off the little flame and entering his own bed, were he soon found himself asleep, his wand still in hand.
1992-21 december
The professors stared at the now empty fireplace.
"I've been saying that Gilderoy was absolutely incompetent since he tried to teach me how to properly take care of my mandrakes. Merlin and Morgana know he survived them only because they're still young." Professor Sprout commented, with an enraged expression on her plump face.
Severus kept his smirk carefully hidden. Finally, he thought, A professor meeting worth my time. The potion master disliked many things, and despised even more, however, few people had ever managed to gain such a level of loathing as Gilderoy Lockhart.
He glanced around the room, noticing the amused expression on Albus, who probably had given the job to that fool only to unmask him.
Minerva was outraged, and Filus was keeping a carefully blank expression, probably he caught up on Dumbledore's plan, nobody could say that the half goblin wasn't sharp.
The other professors exchanged surprised and thoughtful looks among themselves.
"I'm guessing you gave him the job with the purpose of revealing his true colors, headmaster." Ted Tonks thrown in.
Even the new History professor is more acute than he looks like. Severus noted, mentally placing him in the list of 'be careful while being around'.
The first ever muggleborn teacher at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a lawyer, who, because of his blood status, couldn't land a role in the more important, and as such remunerative, cases in the magical world. One of the few to ever gain a NEWT in History of Magic, he looked bland and spineless, but Severus had heard how he had managed to breath new life into his subject. He couldn't say if he really was a competent teacher, but he managed to pass on his love for the subject, and for History, that was more than enough.
The muggleborn wizard pressed on, taking the surprised silence of the room as a confirmstion of his suspects: "Does this means we will soon have a new colleague, headmaster?"
The ancient warlock blinked only once, not giving away his surprise at being called on his plan. "Ah Ted, you do Hogwarts proud with your keen insight. I had my suspicions about Gilderoy since a certain witch I was corresponding with suddenly forgot what we had been discussing, and a month later Break with a Banshee was published. I had at first thought that she sold her story with a non disclosure agreement as part of her contract. But then I read his books, and there were some... inconsistences here and there. So I went and we talked face to face. I recognize an obliviation when I see one, even as well disguised as the ones Gilderoy looks so talented with. His incompetence, under such a heavy scrutiny as the one Hogwarts' professors are kept, unmasked him. So I was able to inform the DMLE based on solid clues, such as the Longbottom heir being lifted by his ears and hung by his robes to a chandelier."
This admission unleashed mutterings of every kind among the staff, and Severus observed with faint amusement the outraged expression on Minerva's face.
"Albus! You can't just throw out of the window the students' education to unmask a fraud!" she roared.
"Indeed I cannot." he quietly replied, and his calm, more than his words, quieted down the whole room. Severus was once more astonished by the command on their surroundings Dumbledore and the Dark Lord both held. Obviously the latter had gained it through pain and fear, while the first had conquered every ounce of respect he was given, but the similarities were there. The Dark Lord speeches often reminded the hopefuls how Dumbledore, even as foolish as he was, had his own inner circle. It was curious, in the potion master's opinion, that the headmaster commanded the staff with the same use of his voice that he adopted during the most incensed Order's meetings.
"I will take up the DADA lessons, I dare say I've picked up a thing or two over the years, and maybe I'll hold some extra lessons for NEWT students." the headmaster said.
That rose more than one eyebrow, it happened already that a professor covered another one's lesson, mostly for the students of lower years, since every member of the stuff knew enough about charms to keep an eye on brats performing a levitation charm, but it was an event more unique than rare.
"It wasn't a coincidence that during the summer the Board approved of the headmaster teaching a subject in case of emergency for two thirds of the school year, was it?" Ted Tonks butted in before anyone could raise questions.
Everyone but Snape and Dumbledore snapped their heads toward the History professor, before looking at the smiling ancient warlock. "If you were still my student I would award Hufflepuff points, Ted." he said. "I will announce the changes of the staff tomorrow at breakfast, as well as the refunding for Gilderoy's books."
"Does this means we will also be able to revive the Duelling Club?" Flitwick hopefully asked.
"I am afraid that the Board still doesn't see your point, Filius." the headmaster answered in a sad tone. "Now to reacap: Gilderoy was arrested for a number of crimes, I'll take over his duties. Young miss. Lovegood stopped getting lost most of the time and the ones that find themselves more overwhelmed by their classes are misters Crabbe, Goyle and Flint from Slytherin, while mr. Longbottom has difficulties only on the practical parts of Charms and Transfiguration, along with a worring 'cauldron melting' touch. Do we still agree that Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater are the best candidates for Head Boy and Girl for the next year?" at the several muttered assents and silent nods, the ancient warlock rose, and the professors' meeting came to an end.
Severus kept his routine almost bolting through the door, leaving that blasted room. However he walked straight to the headmaster tower instead of his own quarters, gave the password to the gargoyle and after a quick climb on the slowly rotating spiral staircase he slipped past the oak door.
He didn't deign either the portraits or the phoenix of a glance, and strode to the fireplace. With a few quick movements of his wand, the teapot was brought to the right temperature, and deveral minutes later, when the headmaster finally arrived, he was already sipping his tea.
The old wizard strode foward with a stern expression on his face. He frownef, seeing the smirk on the Potion Master's face. "After the last time I had ordered the elves to not make tea in my office." he noted.
"Did you?" asked Snape, raising an eyebrow.
Dumbledore's expression brightened: "You made tea! Well done Severus!" he sat down before pouring himself a cup. He added four generous spoons of honey and twirled the spoon in the tea, letting the honey do its work.
He took a careful sip and grimaced. "You used magic to warm the water." he accused the Potion Master, who smirked.
"How, Severus, am I supposed to taste the blend if there's magic everywhere?" the headmaster calmly asked.
"How are you supposed to taste the honey, you mean?" the Potion Master anked in return. "Maybe you could eat it directly from the jar, I won't judge you."
The old wizard gave him an heratfelt glare and put down his cup, crossing his fingers over his beard choosing to stare in the fire.
They shared a fewvmoments of silence, the the Potion Master spoke: "Tonks is sharper than he lets on."
After a few contemplative seconds, the other answered: "He has to be, don't you remember that he married Andromeda Black?"
Severus nodded, remembering also their daughter: "Miss Tonks is the klutz metamorphomagus, is she not?"
The headmaster lips twitched: "Envy is beneath you, Severus. All metamorphomagi have difficulties with being coordinated, their bodies change constantly, you'd be surprised to feel how much half an inch on your feet can mess up your balance. In fact, I could transfigure your feet a little bit, just to give you a taste."
The Potion Master was not amused. "I believe she is one of the last under Alastor's care in the Auror training program." Dumbledore added.
"My heart weeps for her." Snape drily replied. "Why don't you allow the Duelling Club? You managed to strongarm the Board into giving the job to a muggleborn, surely you could have made them accept the idea of students capable of defending themselves."
"Because my first choice of a teacher had been Andromeda Tonks herself. You see, the Tonks couple was born in the NEWT History's class. The Board had been horrified at the idea, she's been cast out if her family, it would set a bad precedent, Merlin knows how bad her influence on the students could be. Ted, even as a muggleborn, was a tame choice in comparison." Dumbledore explained.
Snape frowned, it wasn't the asnwer to the objection he had raised... unless: "You didn't want the Duelling Club." he accused the old warlock, who smiled.
"Indeed I did not. Not that the Board knows it, you see, I agreed to drop the topic of Duelling if they allowed me to hire Ted instead of Andromeda, and since they didn't like the choice, they forced me to promise that I would teach personally in case a professor was deemed unworthy."
"While you were ready to kick out Lockhart." Severus completed the reasoning.
"But what if they allowed a Duelling Club? And why don't you want the students to learn duelling?" the Potion Master asked.
"If they allowed my request of a Duellng Club, the natural choice to lead it would have been the DADA teacher. Gilderoy, with or without my aid, would have jumped to the opportunity of teching his marvelous skills to the Boy Who Lived, you could have... assisted him, and the Duelling Club would have turned out a disaster of epic proportions, giving me additional proof of Gilderoy incompetence. And I would have closed the Club for the students safety." the headmaster said.
"As to why I do not wish for a Duelling Club to get started..." he sighed, choosing his words carefully. "Mr. Weasley and miss. Granger make a terrifying reasearch force, while mr. Potter has an instinctual grasp of all the spells that have a direct use in a fight. As you know, they've been practicing together. Mr. Potter is also a gifted teacher. He understands spells with his gut, as you youngsters would say, Since april, mr. Potter has been teaching to their study group some of the skills he built with miss Granger and mr Weasley. He complements nicely the style of Filius and Minerva both."
Snape stared at the old warlock for a while. "You don't want the Dark Lord to be able to recruit people that have experience in Duelling, while with his lessons Potter strenghtens the bonds with those of his study group and they train themselves at the same time."
Dumbledore slowly clapped, beaming at the Head of Slytherin House.
"How very... cunning of you, headmaster." he commented.
"Oh Severus, I have no doubt that if people were sorted at 70 instead that at 11, they would all wear green and silver." The old wizard laughed, "Why, if we had waited until now to sort Ronald Weasley he could have joined Harry in your House."
That reminded Snape of a topic he had wanted to approach: "Was it really wise? Giving your book to the boy?"
"Wise or not, it seems to be having a good impact on him. From what I've been able to observe, he has bastardized the meditation to include a form of wandless magic. He truly has a creative mind." the headmaster added.
"Where in the world did he find out how to learn wandless magic?" Snape asked, surprised.
"I think that he made it up." Dumbledore answered with a wide smile.
"He made it up." the much younger wizard repeated flatly. "Nevermind that. Why did you gift your work to him? And why disguising it as a Vega Black's book?" The Potion Master asked.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow: "I did not 'gift' anyone anything, Severus. I merely made an addiction to the Restricted Section, as it's my right as headmaster. The Ministry's Law woukd require any of my original works to be subjected to the scrutiny of the Ubspeakables, while old books are already circulating, and as such are exempt from that law."
"But why Vega Black?"
"Because she had already published a tome on the mind arts, even if it was about psychological torture, and because Ronald was still wary about some families, while we need him with an open mind." The headmaster explained. "And I did not simply leave it in one of the boys' dorm because they need to learn how to recognize and grasp an opportunity when it presents itself. And even if I would have preferred it if they made some background check before using it, they took a risk, and in this case it paid off."
"Is this another reason why you didn't train Potter personally? Or kept him with you?" Snape asked.
"How can he choose to fight Voldemort if he doesn't know what he is protecting? And yes, Severus, revenge is not a good enough motivation, too many have seeked out justice only to freely dispense death." the headmaster said.
He took a slow breath, his expression darkening. "I did make plans at first. I could have started teaching him runes when he was seven, and praparing him to alchemy and potions since he was nine. I could have raised him with rituals and elixirs, crafting a terrifying weapon for my hands, a killer among shadows. Following that schedule, in five years he would have become something that only Voldemort and I could safely face one on one." He sighed, a defeated look on his face.
"However I realized that there was no way to give Harry, talented boy or not, a preparation that could outclass the decades of studies Tom has on him. He may very well be a madman, but has a talent for magic that rivals my own, if only in its more violent and dark applications." Dumbledore went on explaining.
"Then I remembered an old truth that I learned while working with Nicolas: the greatest forces in our universe can not be directly manipulated through magic or other means. And that there were a lot of wonderful, still vastly unexplored branches if magic and life that could one day help." Then he smiled looking at the Potion Master like he was expecting him to understand what the headmaster was implying.
Snape frowned, shaking his head. It clearly was not obvious to him.
"I'll give you a hint then. In the Deparment of Mysteries, there is a section that produces time turners. A room full of planets, which is dedicated to the study of our universe. A room that contains a manifestation of the Veil between life and death. A room that studies intelligence itself." Dumbledore rose from his chair, walking slowly toward the firebird's perch.
"There is also room that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there."
Recognizing the tone of the headmaster's speech, Snape held back a groan.
"This has better not be about..."
"Love, Severus." Dumbledore interrupted him "Love."
Turning his back to the phoenix, the headmaster stared at the much younger wizard. "We already had this conversation Severus," he chuckled "and your skepticism never ceases to amaze and worry me at the same time."
The old warlock strode over, looking unblinkingly in the dark eyes of the Potion Master: "How can you not see it? Lack of love cast Tom on the path that ultimately made him become Voldemort. Lack of Love sent you among his ranks, and Love brought you back. Love saved Harry that night and destroyed Voldemort, who, alone and brittle as he was, could not hope to face such an unrelenting and unyelding defence! You must see it for what it is, Severus."
He grabbed the left shoulder of Snape with a surprising strenght for a man that looked older than the Piramids, and leaned foward: "If you really do not believe in what I've just told you, believe in Lily, because it's plain to see that she knew what she was doing when she tied her intent to the Sowilō rune on her son's forehead."
Snape looked startled at that, but then he frowned heavily, that last revelation had taken him by surprise. "You know how she did it!?" he asked.
For an istant, Dumbledore looked surprised by the question, but he quickly recovered. "Alas, I don't." he answered regretfully.
"Hoever, I made speculations, and as you know, they tend to be spot on. As you know, Lily was gifted in Charms in the same way you are gifted in Potions. We also know that at their core, wards are Charms, with the long lasting ones tied in place by runes." He made a pause, waiting for the Potion Master to nod, indicating that he was following the basic explanation.
"We know that Lily, along with her husband, defied Voldemort three times. Arithmancy should help us here, three represents stability, resilience, and protection. From what I could examine of their wands, neither James nor Lily fought Voldemort that night." he went on.
"You think she performed a ritual?" Snape asked.
Uncharacteristically, Dumbledore shrugged: "I think that a lot of factors were at work that night. Lily was not the first mother to die to protect her child."
After a second,he went on: "At its core, magic is intent. I believe, that in the istant Lily was struck by the killing curse, her intent was so absolute, that her magic wove a ward. Unknowingly, she based it on ritual preparation. Three times the Potters defied him. And of three Potters, three did not fight in the end, two for choice, one because innocence is above violence. The universe works in patterns, even if often beyond our understanding."
"What about the Sowilō Rune?" asked Snape.
"Because Sowilō is the rune of the extreme strength, embodying and channelling the power of the sun. It symbolizes the energy and the light. Literally, this rune is the vital principle of the solar light. Symbol of the Sun, Sowilo also represents the Illumination, the understanding of the Mysteries and the full awareness. It is the direct and devastating power which no obstacle can stop. Sowilo resists the forces of death and destruction, proclaiming the triumph of the Light over the Darkness. This rune illuminates the objectives that the man wants to reach. Sowilo allows someone to realize his objectives but it is necessary to possess a clear idea of these and to keep them clearly in mind." the old teacher answered kindly.
"Magic is intent." Snape repeated. "Is that it?"
"Not even remotely, but we have more pressing matters to discuss." Dumbledore answered with a chuckle.
"But I think a walk on the grounds would be more... conductive, for a talk about our plans, than my office."
Having said that, he turned his back to the warm fireplace and left his office. After a second that Snape used to collect himself, the Potion Master briskly walked behind the retreating figure of the headmaster.
While crossing the corridors and climbing the staircases to reach the Great Hall and from there the grounds, Dumbledore spoke: "Can I burden you with some wards to avoid wayard students to overhear us? And maybe a warming charm once we're outside?"
Snape barely arched an eyebrow, he was way past the point of questioning unexpected little requests like those. With a few movements of his wrist the magic was woven in the correct way and layered upon them. Muffiliato could have done it, but the discussions Severus shared with the headmaster must not be heard, so increased security was welcome.
"May I enquire, Severus, about your wand?" Dumbledore asked.
The Potion Master glanced at it, for the first time noticing how many scratches there were on his once immaculate wand. He suddenly felt old, and the natural resistence he would have felt about sharing something so deeply personal evaporated. With his mind he went back, to when he and his wand met for the first time.
"Eleven inches and one third. Elm, with a Runespoor heartstring. Stiff." He whispered.
The headmaster hummed thoughtfully. "Why did you ask?"
"A wand tells many thing about his wielder, to those among us that studied a bit of wandlore at least." Dumbledore answered.
"However, I wanted to keep you in the loop, as you young people say. I managed to delay the Triwizard, but only of one year. I have little doubt that, since both Durmstrang and Beuxbaton fully agreed on the previous dates, Olympe and Igor will counsel their brightest students to fail their last examinations, so that they will be able to compete in the Triwizard." The old warlock completely changed the topic.
"Cornelius will be caught red handed right after the Tournament, so that Amelia will be able to take his place. I'll need to talk to her too." The headmaster remembered to the younger wizard.
"Your non sequitur aren't really non sequitur, are they?" the Potion Master asked.
That caused the much older wizard to chuckle: "Indeed, I fear they're not. Challenging prophecy is madness, I'll explain why another time, for now, bear with me. Our final aim is to kill Lord Voldemort, period. Everything else is set to minimize the damage our world will have to pay."
He waited for the Potion Master to nod his assent before going on: "For him to die, he must first return to life. So we not only to be prepared for it, but to find a way to indirectly manipulate, or at least keep an eye on, his resurrection proper."
The higly trained mind of the Occlumens linked the dots with ease. "It's not a coincidence that you talked about the number three in relationship to 'some ritual' you believe Lily has performed, is it?" Snape asked, a feel of dread creeping up his spine.
"It's not." the ancient wizard simply answered. "Before we reach that point however, we must first know how he survived the night of the 31st of october 1981. So that we can undo it if we must."
By then, tbey had reached the grounds, and Snape kept following the much older wizard over the inches thick snow.
"What do you know about how Hogwarts' Grounds work?" Dumbledore asked.
Snape shook his head, not even bothering trying to follow the ancient warlock mind in its reasonings. "I wasn't aware that there was something that could 'work' on the Grounds. Beyond the wards and Hagrid that is."
Dumbledore shot him a reproachful look at hearing Hagrid being referred to as a 'thing', but he let it slide.
"Like many places were magic has been heavily used over more than seven hundred years, the space enlargment spells tied to both the Forest and the Grounds have taken up a life of their own. However, Hogwarts was built to be a fortress capable to protect its students, and as such, the Grounds answer to the Headmaster." they kept walking beyond the Whomping Willow and down from the following hill.
Dumbledore stopped, and unsheated his wand, and tapped an unmarked spot over the snow. A faint golden line unraveled from there and run a circle with a diameter of fifty meters around the ancient wizard, who turned to face the Potion Master.
"I think it's time I assume once again a role as your teacher, Severus. A year ago, I asked you to train yourself as there was a war coming. I will be able to spare a night every couple of months, during which you will try your best to kill me. When I'll deem you ready, perhaps you could start dueling Filius, not only to get used to a style I cannot replicate, but also to unlearn the patterns you will take up against me. I don't want you to be able only to kill in a duel, so working with both of us will nip that in the bud."
Without further explanations, a bright withe light left Dumbledore's wand and sped toward the Potion Master, who scrambled to erect a defense. When his first shield shattered, he didn't stop. He rolled on his shoulder raising a thick wall of snow that he turned into unbreakable ice with the same movement.
It melted immediately and Snape found himself wheezing on his back.
"Sloppy." the headmaster drily commented.
When the Potion Master managed to regain his senses and stood up, the headmaster shot him an unimpressed look. "Shall we begin then?"
And all hell broke loose.