- *XXXX* indicates the text is italic (kinda important for both prologue chapters as both spells and parseltongue are italicized).
- **XXXX** indicates the text is bold.
Lmk what u think and all that.
Prologue Part II: Back Again Harry?
It gave him but a second, but that was all he needed.
As the moon and sky waned crimson from the signal spell, Harry leap into action. A quick numbing charm on his broken leg was all he could spare before being forced to roll out of the way. Where he had knelt a moment before, strange constructs of earth rose from the ground seeking to immobilize him.
The howling continued, growing ever closer. Harry was given no quarter, the earthen restraints he'd barely dodged exploded in a shower of sharp debris. The first few dug into his flesh, burrowing their way through his robes before Harry sent a weak banishment charm to redirect them to where he thought Dumbledore was.
Lurching to his feet, Harry scanned the field for any sign of Dumbledore. He didn't stand a chance as things were. Dumbledore had decided to drive into his perfectly made house of traps with a bulldozer. He was supposed to be in the bloody air right now and-
"Enoug-" a voice broke out directly behind him.
Harry wouldn't let him talk. He couldn't let him talk, not if he wanted a chance at winning this. Before Dumbledore had even finished a word Harry had launched himself in the opposite direction, ducking under a volley of stunners that would have surely taken him, and thrust his want as far into the Earth as he could.
He spared one glance behind him, and saw cold blue eyes shining like a dead sun. This was it, and despite feeling wholly unprepared for this kind of fight, Harry would not back down. Not in this. Not to him. A single spark within him leapt up to his eyes, igniting magic circuits that burnt emerald. His focus narrowed, the field was gone, and alone were he and Dumbledore.
The moment froze, and their eyes met. Mystic eye met mystic eye, and the subtle war of illusions raged. It lasted both an eternity and a moment. Dumbledore had experience, but Harry had power. Then, his delusion passed and he had neither. The battle was lost, but not the war. Tearing himself away from Dumbledore's eyes was a task in and of itself. He consoled himself that his resounding defeat had only been due to the nighttime.
His wand twiched, buried deep in the ground.
"*Reducto Terra Miasma*," he screamed. The Earth bent to his will.
Harry savoured the brief look of surprise on Dumbledore's face. Before, of course, the first layer of soil exploded upwards with enough force to launch a forest's worth of trees into the air. If he'd not transformed the moment he'd triggered the first seal, the exploding earth would have shredded him to bits. He had no illusions about it causing any lasting harm to his previously former headmaster. Harry didn't bother trying to remain on the newly created desert of quicksand, instead using the rent apart dirt to burrow deeper into the ground.
Even transformed, the pain from his broken bones slowed him considerably. Dumbledore really hadn't been holding back in that moment. It really was a miracle he'd managed to get the signal out in time. As he slithered further down, he felt Dumbledore's magic flare above him. A great heat began to slowly make its way down through the sand. Harry shuddered, was Dumbledore trying to...
Thankfully, transformed as he was even Dumbledore could not sense him. The transformation was old magic, ancient even. From before the time of the first focus, before the advent of fire, before even the spoken word. If snakes could have smirked, Harry would've right now. This was one gigantic advantage he held over Dumbledore. It didn't matter how smart or clever or talented you were. It didn't matter how much goddamn magic you could throw around or how much you knew or even how your elementary spells were always far too powerful to make sense. No, the animagus transformation was an ancient form of blood magic. Carried only by the blood, not in mind or soul. A marble phantasm manifested only by those whose heraldry bore some connection to pacts made before men were men.
Above him, he felt the heat fade up and down. Dumbledore had engaged his howlfiends then. Not much worked on the dead except fire, and Dumbledore wasn't one to try and toy around. Still, anything to keep Dumbledore busy. All that trouble setting off the signal had been worth it so long as it occupied his opponent until he could unleash his penultimate trap.
As he gave into his serpent senses, he felt a portion of hope within him. Below him, a mass of writhing flesh came alive. His speed picked up as the heat above him crept downwards. Dumbledore had his position right now, maybe, but it didn't matter. With a clear 'thunk', he slammed into a wall of serpent flesh. An orgy, buried deep under the ground for this very moment. Pushing aside the spent snakes on the outermost edges, he infiltrated the sphere of wriggling serpents and began to scream as he made his way to the center.
"*I command you, the white one has come! Now! The white one has come!*," he repeated his cry as he sped forward.
Each snake that heard his call froze for a moment, then began a mad dash to disentangle itself and make for the surface. There, Dumbledore would find just why Harry had spent the last five days meticulously preparing the entire forest floor for this plan. A whirlpool of poison fangs awaited his headmaster. He hadn't expected to have been forced to use it so soon, but he'd have been a fool to cross wands against Dumbledore with no advantage.
Harry had never much cared for the feeling of making his way through an orgy of snakes, especially one of this size. It felt a bit like what he thought walking into an actual orgy would feel like truth be told. Still, now wasn't the time to complain. He honestly wasn't sure how long he continued to scream his snake lungs hoarse. The sheer number of serpents was sure to surprise Dumbledore. He was certain the centenarian didn't have a clear idea of just how extraordinary the muggle global market was.
As he breached the center, a brief spike of hope raced within him. This was the real prize. A mass of beautiful white serpents, each thrice as long and wide as the common ones he'd been throwing at Dumbledore so far. Their red eyes shone beautifully in the dark, each homing in on Harry before he'd even said a word. They immediately disentangled from the others, and came to him, wrapping around him tightly.
These ones were clever, and had managed to keep his blood down when fed. They could tell he was heart, and constricted around him. A cocoon of protective flesh. Harry felt his heart begin to calm as he spoke.
"*The white one has come. I require healing*," but before he'd even finished speaking, little symbols etched meticulously on the white marble scales came alive. They wrapped around him even tighter now, practically choking him. He was thankful nonetheless, as the healing magic began to slowly mend his form. This was rather tricky to do right in the middle of a battle. Especially a battle with Albus Dumbledore. Maybe not so much 'tricky' as it was stupid. Harry's head throbbed with impatience as the magic slowly untangled and activated.
Salazar Slytherin had created these spells for a parselmouth to use after combat, or during meditation. They were certainly not meant for the battlefield, or for animagi for that matter. Feeling himself shedding his old skin and growing new flesh, months sped up to moments, was something he'd never get used to either. He had this contingency plan in place but he didn't think that he'd be spent so quickly. As the moments dragged on the heat slowly but surely increased. Harry's fear was becoming palpable.
He didn't have anymore time to heal. He regretted doing it in the first place but if he was to flee he required mobility above all else. The cobras would be far more useful elsewhere. There weren't supposed to be occupied a hundred feet below while Dumbledore slaughtered his entire force. Gathering his strength, Harry began to nudge the serpents to disentangle. They moved to obey him immediately.
While he'd been within the cocoon, they serpents had moved themselves towards the very bottom of the orgy. As far from the danger on the surface as possible, they'd judged. Harry noted with approval, he was going to regret losing these ones.
"*Go. Now. The white one has come. Return to me upon his death*," he really was going to regret losing them. Months of hard work turned into mush because Dumbledore was having a tantrum. The serpents gave him a sense of glee before rushing together towards the surface. The moment they breached the whirlpool above, Dumbledore would have a new challenge to content with.
Harry alone remained at the bottom of where the orgy once was. Along with the contemptuous ones that had broken free from his control and remained writhing uselessly on the spot. Harry noted with approval that there weren't many of them. He sped along the bedrock, following the trails made by his snakes. If they'd done it right then they should have all converged to a single point. A small note a alarm rose in Harry, and was ruthlessly quashed. He'd never done anything like this before, and a single spell gone awry at any point would lead to failure.
Sirius' face shone in the darkness.
Hermione's sobs rang in his ears.
No, he could not stop. No hesitation, else he would fail. For them, he would face any foe. Even one as monstrous as this. Sparing a cursory glance above, he slipped into one of the many thin holes that dotted the bedrock. Down here he was safe, for a moment at least.
Harry racked his brain for a way out of this. Truth be told, he'd pretty much blown his load already. Dumbledore had probably already freed David and Steven. He'd given the emergency signal, activating the howlfiend he'd stashed in the woods. Now all he could do was hope that Dumbledore would think him desperately trying to escape. It was the smart thing to do after all. Obvious and predictable yes, but trying to stop a single fleeing snake in an army of thousands was a fools errand, even for Dumbledore.
Harry made his way through the snakeholes, above him he could feel the tremendous clash of magic taking place. His white serpents had finally made it to the surface and taken command of the army. Now, instead of just biting at him desperately, they'd have some actual tactical ability. It might even make Dumbledore think that Harry was actually among them himself.
Harry came to a branch point in the tunnel. One led to the surface, albeit surfacing a few miles away, while the other led deeper into the ground. But, before he could make his choice a thunderous boom shook the ground. The force of it sent Harry shaking, tremors screaming deep into the earth. He felt the tunnels crack and collapse in some places around it. Even all the way down here, Harry could feel its penetrating heat.
Harry eyes spun in his skull. What a blast! Dumbledore must have been furious, just what kind of spell was that? He must have been hundreds of feet deep. Wait, why would he have. No...
Panic struck Harry as he immediately made for the surface. That explosion must have been enormous, incinerating a good half of his army in a single strike, including all of his commanders. If Harry had been up there alongside them, he would have shared their fate. Dumbledore would never have taken such a risk, potentially killing Harry, if he had not been absolutely sure Harry was not among them. Which begged the question.
How did Dumbledore know where he was.
His heart thrummed as he hurried upward. Dumbledore couldn't have. It was impossible. The animagus transformation was a powerful magic that turned man into beast, plain and simple. Animagi were completely indistinguishable from their beastly counterparts. There were spells and protections that could force an animagi to reveal themselves, but for all intents and purposes they were identical to the beasts around them. Even Dumbledore, in this world of snakes prepared specially for this purpose, should have been lost.
The heat grew unbearable, breaking his thoughts. Channeling his anger into his will, he began to transform. The spells were cast before he was even fully human. His robes transforming into black smoke, a shield carving away the earth above him as he rose. He rocketed out of the loose dirt and into the sky.
Shooting up a hundred feet or so, he gazed down into a hell of his own making.
The smell of burnt flesh rose even this high. The area below him had been transformed first from a forest floor to a desert, a powerful terraforming curse blasting away moisture and roots. It would have been a perfect desert of loose dirt and broken stone, allowing for his serpents to form a whirling storm surrounding Dumbledore.
It would have, were it not for the man in question. Dumbledore stood calmly in the center of it all. Harry's whirlpool of destruction obliterated through sheer power. Dumbledore hadn't fought in any particularly clever fashion. Harry had obliterated the moisture from the ground, heating it so quickly it exploded. He'd left sand and stone behind.
And Dumbledore had made that sand and stone his. He walked calmly on a pristine mirror. It looked like water, Harry abruptly thought. Everywhere, for a quarter of a square mile, turned and obliterated to glass. A beautiful silver mirror burnt into the ground a dozen feet deep. He could see the depression in the ground where Dumbledore stood, gazing directly at him. In the beginning he'd started small, a whirlpool of fire around him to protect from the swirling snakes. Then, either slowly or all at once, he'd exploded. No vegetation remained in the entire area effected. Even the forest outside the range of Harry's spell had been charred and obliterated black. Harry's fingers shook at the devastation of the spell. He'd heard tales of battles so terrible they left a scar on the planet, but he'd never been in one before.
Dumbledore had misjudged him however, just as he'd knew he would. Small holes and tunnels going deep in the ground, petrified in time by Dumbledore's fire gave a way for his serpents to rise to the surface. Harry noticed his surprise as burnt and bleeding snakes, those closest to the blast that survived, made their way to the surface.
Gathering his cougar, Harry willed his magic into action. It rose like a wave lose in a tsunami. Dumbledore's might had transformed Harry's carefully crafted arena into an alien nightmare of glass, flame and dead flesh. Despite his well-founded hesitation, something inside Harry rose to meet the near insurmountable obstacle that now lay in front of him. Dumbledore had found him. He'd had an entire summer to prepare and now fate had found him wanting. Locking eyes with Dumbledore, Harry drew up his wand.
Only for fire to envelop him. Dumbledore hadn't even moved his wand. As the whirling fire began to encircle him, a screech behind him revealed its source. Harry heart raced as Fawkes exploded onto the battlefield, mere inches above Harry. Eyes widening, Harry cancelled his flight and turned to fall just as Fawkes made for this throat. Talons tipped in red gold burnt Harry's hair as he fell.
Transforming immediately to avoid the stream of stunners Dumbledore sent over his way, Harry screamed from the air, "*Slithering son of a slithering son, come and feast and let your womb undone!*"
Snakes all around him, rising from the ground, some already moving towards Dumbledore, paused and turned towards him. He transformed before he hit the ground, landing in a painful crouch. Harry's wand burnt painfully in his hand as a cold yellow light gathered at the tip. He paid Fawkes no heed as he began circling him in the air. There were enough snakes around for this trick of Salazar's to work. It was a pity the howlfiends had been destroyed.
Dumbledore moved before him, his and racing out and tracing vast sequences into the air. The charred glassy earth around Dumbledore rose and liquified, forming globs of molten lava that lazily floated around him. From above, Fawkes let out an angry screech that burnt Harry's ears and echoed in his head. A mirthless laugh escaped Harry, what an enemy. Even holding back as he was, Dumbledore was truly a force to be reckoned with.
"Harry, you will-"
Harry interrupted Dumbledore for the third time tonight as his spell came into motion. The snakes that had stood as still as the night above suddenly exploded into screeching action. Launching themselves like bullets at Dumbledore, the ones closest to him impacted a strange shield, causing translucent ripples in the air. Dumbledore raised his wand, and Harry recognized the beginning of a mass vanishing charm. But, before he could complete the movement, the snakes outside his shield exploded in a macabre horror show that released a great plume of acrid smoke.
Harry's wand was already moving. Serpent after serpent launched themselves at his headmaster, each bursting in a show of gore and pungent gas. Harry was lucky that Dumbledore hadn't seen fit to torch the entirety of the underground space Harry had hallowed out, otherwise he'd have lost his entire army. Whipping his wand around himself, he ended the long chain with a jab at Dumbledore.
The gas seemed to surge in on itself, and then responded to Harry's call. It began to coalesce around Dumbledore's position, rising higher and faster to form a tornado that would trap him. Harry smiled, now all he would have to do was wait. And he didn't have to wait long.
Without warning, a lance of hardened magma shot out from the storm of yellow gas. Eyes widening, Harry made to move out of the way, but the lance struck is side and tore open his thigh. Eyes stinging, Harry cast a quick shield. His shield formed right in the nick of time, saving him from several heavy globules of magma that would have surely swallowed him hole. He steading himself and pointing his wand at the ground.
Dumbledore gave him no quarter. The entire world lit up, yellow gas vanishing before white lightning in an instant. Harry screamed an incantation as the lightning struck his shield and tore it away in the same instant. The ground gave way too slowly before him, and the lightning seared his eyeballs as he fell into his newly created hole. He didn't waste a moment before transforming and digging into the charred and glassy earth. Digging through what was essentially powdered glass wasn't pleasant, but adrenaline kept him going.
He was safe, for now. Dumbledore was above him, and Harry could hear the many eruptions of gas and gore taking place above him. He reached out with his serpent senses to paint a picture of the surface. He wasn't sure how many snakes had sacrificed themselves for his spell, but there weren't nearly enough. Not yet. He needed to stall.
Far above him, a horrible cry broke him out of his reverie. He felt a shudder in his very soul. A phoenix was a creature of summer and light, how one came into Dumbledore's service was beyond him. Fawkes' cries above only increased his urgency. He had no time, and lacked the ability to effectively stall. He needed to escape. He needed to make it out of-
"Enough, Harry".
The broken desert of glass he had been traveling through suddenly constricted around him. Eyes bulging, Harry made a move to transform but as he wheeled about in his animagus form to try and find the source of the noise, it was for naught. A sharp spike of glasses broke through the ground of his little tunnel, carving cleaning through his tail, and embedding itself in the roof. His serpent mouth frozen in a soundless scream, Harry writhed and hissed in fury, trying to tear his tail off in a futile attempt to escape.
Screaming in pain, with his transformation cancelled, the tunnel constricted around harry, forming fingers and a palm. Crushing Harry's impaled body in it's newfound grip, the hand rose for the surface. As it breached the air, the hand broke apart into the charred and glassy earth it was made from, chucking Harry's twitching and bloody form unceremoniously on the floor.
Harry lay in the pool of blood, numb from all the pain. He'd felt himself revert to primal reptilian instincts for a moment, and pushed his occlumency to tune out the pain. Taking a deep breath, Harry transformed.
And woke to unimaginable pain. Harry screamed. His legs must have been crushed to powder. In his hysterics, he chanced a look down at his legs and nearly heaved at what he saw. It look as though someone had driven a rusty flagpole right through both his kneecaps over and over again. Shards of bone oozed with fat and muscle, and torn and gushing blood. He couldn't walk. No, he couldn't so much as crawl. If he wanted any chance at escaping he'd have been better of cutting away both legs and trying to make a run with just his torso. The pain lanced deep within him. Anger rose, clouding his thoughts till there was nothing more.
Yet he heard Dumbledore's footsteps perfectly. His feet came to a rest steps away from Harry's head.
"Rather anti-climactic, wouldn't you say Harry?" Dumbledore posed. Harry bit his lip so hard he was sure that he'd just swallowed a chunk.
He still had the smoke, his broken mind abruptly realized. His fingers wrapped around his wand. He had one shot. Lifting up his broken head, Harry chanced a look behind Dumbledore's ankles. There it was, a churning mass of sovereignless yellow smoke slowly dissipating. If he could just wrest control of it again and activate it-
This time, it was Dumbledore who interrupted him. Harry had been careful to open open his eyes a fraction, to stare past Dumbledore's sandals and onto the battlefield. Now, his vision was preoccupied with eyes of the deepest blue. Suddenly he realized that Dumbledore had bent down. He cursed himself for forgetting, as his mind and soul lost all meant in the cosmic sea that was Dumbledore's eyes.
The pain was gone, and so was he. No physical form remained, only a numbness that permeated the entirety of his being. All he felt was disappointment, at how easy he'd gone down, and anger, for he despised the man who had bested him. All his trump cards, all his plans and preparations, all were for nothing. Even now, he slowly realized, he'd been so resoundingly defeated that it hardly merited notice. He'd not even considered trying to match Dumbledore's eyes.
For days, this was his experience. Not a moment passed in this illusory world wherein he was no consumed by anger and hatred. Once upon a time, years ago, Harry had fallen under the spell of these eyes before. Back then, he'd seen little pink sprites and wisps of red hair, singing lullabies that seemed oh so familiar. Now, there was nothing but black.
Harry woke slowly from his nightmare.
Blinking his eyes wearily, the cringed instantly at the pain that greeted him. His legs felt like they were on fire.
He couldn't see where he was. Pillows and blankets surrounded him, and above him loomed a domed wooden roof. He could make out that there was a light source and a person in the room with him, judging by the flickering shadow cast on the ceiling. He felt a cough coming up, and didn't bother holding it in. The shadow on the roof moved towards him.
An invisible hand lifted his head and began to incline it upwards, bringing the room into view. Stuffing pillows behind him, Harry absently sniffed one of the sheets. The sterile, sharp scent spoke of conjuration. He did not recognize the room. It was a bare wooden hut, a bit like Hagrid's but devoid of any furniture but for an empty rocking chair before the roaring hearth. Harry stared into the flames to avoid looking to his left.
Dumbledore sighed, and made to sit down. Harry thought he was about to sit on the floor but a soundless crack echoed and an identical chair appeared to meet him.
Neither of them spoke. Harry wasn't sure if he could, to be honest, and didn't feel much like asking his former headmaster for a drink of water. Dumbledore was looking down into his lap, seemingly avoiding Harry's gaze. Harry began to gather strength into his mystic eyes, magic numbing the pain, it would be necessary if...
Dumbledore broke his thoughts, his voice strained, "Please, do not".
Harry allowed the emerald light to recede. As he felt the strain in his eyes return, he let out a small cough.
The quiet descended upon them once more.
Now, it was Harry who refused to look at Dumbledore. Staring ahead into the bright hearth, his thoughts grew more and more troubled as the silence ticked on. He let out a pained sigh, partly due to the throbbing in his legs, partly because of how different he wished things could have been. Harry focused on the flames. The white of the fire was all he could see, and soon enough even that began to resemble Dumbledore's beard.
As his vision began to blur, it was his professor who broke the ice, "Back again, Harry?"
Uncertainty clouded his injured mind for a moment, before he thought of the perfect reply, his voice hoarse, "I never left, professor".
A glass of water levitated itself into his field of vision. Gently coming to a stop an inch away from his lips, Harry leaned forward and eagerly drank the water within. He trusted it to be water. Even if it wasn't... Well, the animagus transformation wasn't the only ancient magic he held over Dumbledore. He was safe from any potions Dumbledore tried to give him.
"What have you done Harry?" the question was pleading.
Harry resisted the urge to shrink back, taking strength from his magic. His legs felt better with each passing moment he bit through the pain.
"Me? I'm not the one that tried to commit murder," he bit back accusingly. His voice hitched in the middle, a sharp pain running through his chest.
Dumbledore looked him in the eye, one brow raised. Even without the use of legilimency or mystic eyes, they conveyed his disbelief.
His tone was measured, "If you are referring to the events surrounding my re-location of-"
"Relocation!" Harry spat, "Is that what you call it?"
Dumbledore's features remained implacable, only the eyes ever twinkling, "I believe that our agreement was that you would stay safe, keep me informed and not attempt to deceive me. Correct?"
Harry refused to answer, "Did our agreement include you *blowing up my house*? Or trying to kill me? Or did you forget agreeing to the Statute of Secrecy by any chance? There were muggles-"
Dumbledore quieted him with a single look. The entire hut seemed muffled. The roaring hearth shrank back as a terrible pressure laid into the room. Harry heard his blood rushing through his ears, and the beat of his heart sped as his own magic refused to be cowed.
"You would see fit to lecture me on muggles? You, Harry?" his tone had a desperate edge to it. As if he'd been holding back this whole time, trying to avoid this topic but unable to just let it go.
The pain in his legs began to fade but his voice was quiet, "What is that supposed to mean, Professor?".
"I noticed those muggles you had bewitched into your service, Harry. I watched what they became," Dumbledore was uncompromising.
At this Harry felt indignation, "That's not how I'd have described it, Professor. And besides, I told you a week ago that I wouldn't be coming to Hogwarts this year. I have no need-"
Dumbledore seemed to be unable to hold it in any longer, "No, Harry. Your message was wholly inadequate. Your deceit was unacceptable. I had made it clear to you, that despite your personal thoughts on the mater, you were to return to Hogwarts regardless".
Harry didn't say a word. His ears were ringing. His magic rising with his anger.
"Imagine my shock," Dumbledore continued, "When I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, only for Tom to inform me that Harry Potter had spent not one night this summer".
Harry's throat felt dry, his eyes stinging. His magic soothed him as Dumbledore's presence thundered down from above. The anger in the room was palpable.
"I had seen fit to trust you, this entire summer. After you'd proven yourself with Slughorn in New York, I had thought you had matured, but you remain a child. Your lies of Diagon Alley and the Burrow. Of vacationing in 'Majorca'. I trusted you Harry..." his tone was pleading at the end.
Harry had enough, "Trusted me? Professor you trusted me as far as you can throw me! I saw Tonks and Dung in every shadow and Snape behind every-"
Dumbledore interrupted him, "Father Snape, Harry".
Harry glared, pretending not to have heard, "I'm sorry Professor. I'm not happy I did it, but I'm not happy either that I had to do it. And that's your fault".
Dumbledore paused and Harry continued, inhibitions removed, "I told you I couldn't come back. I can't, and I don't want to and I don't need to. I got sick of your shit so yes, eventually I took a trip down Knockturn Alley. You already knew that".
Dumbledore measured his tone, "I knew that you had taken steps to explore, as any talented young wizard would. I had not known of the extent of your..."
As Dumbledore trailed off, anger rose in Harry, "My what? My fall? My defiling? Am I unclean under your law now professor?"
Dumbledore let emotion show for the first time, his brow crinkling in worry, "Harry, please, you are acting like a child. There is no need for this. Hogwarts is your home".
Harry flinched, but remained standing, "I know. I didn't say it wasn't. I just can't go back right now. Not after last year, I can't".
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, "Since I realized you were missing, I set myself to personally tracking you down".
He moved away from Harry's bedside, lazily waving his want with him. Harry's blankets pulled back slowly, layers and layers coming undone.
"I built a rather astute picture, if I may so so myself, of your actual movements this summer. You truly pulled the wool over this old fool's eyes Harry. I shall have to be much more careful in the future," his words were sharp.
The blankets pulled back to reveal an image that didn't match his mind, and Harry's eyes widened in shock. Their emerald light came alive with mystic eyes, the perfect counter to any illusion. Yet, as he reached out with a weak arm, he felt only smooth skin where he knew to be gnashed flesh and broken bone. He ran his fingers over both legs, feeling the perfectly smooth and uninjured skin. No scars remained. In fact, not a single hair was out of place. Far too perfect for any kind of healing magic. Some kind of illusory spell? Had Dumbledore never ever hit him in the first place. When did he manage to...
"What kind of spell...," Harry wondered aloud.
Dumbledore demanded his attention, "Where were you on your birthday?"
Harry stopped abruptly. His occlumency, pale and weak as it was, came rising to the forefront, "I already told you. I was with Ron and G-"
Dumbledore cut in, "I have established that, to my great regret, neither of the Weasley's have heard from you at all this summer".
Dumbledore's accusatory tone stung, and Harry reached out with his own curiosity, "You spoke to them?"
At Dumbledore's somewhat reluctant nod, Harry continued, "How are they?"
Dumbledore sighed and looked down, "They're both doing as well as can be expected. When I appeared out of the blue, asking questions, you can imagine their worry. Thankfully, I had n reason to voice my inquiries".
Harry furrowed his brow, "What does that mean?"
"It means, Harry," Dumbledore's face was pained, "That I quickly established that they had no memories of you this summer at all".
Harry's reply was a grunt of affirmation.
"And upon learning this, I concluded that it would be best to inform them that you would be arriving late to the school, that I was primarily responsible for your inability to communicate this summer and that you were sincerely wishing them all the best, and eagerly awaited them at Hogwarts," he finished with his eyes closed. Harry could sense the distaste radiating off the man, but he couldn't help but be thankful.
Silence dominated the room. Both wizards felt their magic begin to settle, as a balance was struck. Neither wizard would be seen retreating, but neither had anger to lose upon the other.
It was Dumbledore who broke their fragile peace, "Where were you on your birthday?"
Harry gulped, his mouth opened to answer but Dumbledore interrupted him.
"Look at me Harry," he demanded.
Harry looked up refusing to back down, and blue met green. The legilimency probe came immediately but Harry met it head on. Neither would use mystic eyes, but Harry was confident he could hold Dumbledore back without them. The probe brushed over his walls like a feather, tickling the sensitive spots before fading away. Just as Harry leaned back to take a breath, it came thrusting back. Like a battering ram this time, breaking through several layers of his shields at once. A spear that struck deep and true, piercing till it hit the desired memory.
*The scene shifted before his eyes.*
*He was on a hill encased in marble. A city on seven hills. The air was humid, and behind him a pale woman with icy blond hair spoke words etched into his mind.*
*"You seek the twelfth Dead Apostle Ancestor, but he will find you before you find him. That is troublesome".*
*Harry turned around to speak, "Don't worry, I-*
And the spear hit its limit. With a resounding crash that echoed through his mind, the haze lifted from Harry's eyes and he returned to the present. Deep within his mental eye he saw Dumbledore's bettering ram finally slam against a wall that it couldn't crack. Dumbledore's magic may have been inexhaustible, but slamming against the final ayer of defence had done naught but break his ram in two. Dumbledore didn't seem surprised.
"I had no idea you had progressed so far. My congratulations, Harry," he said in a tone that suggested anything but.
Harry broke eye contact, thankful for the respite, "It isn't anything I did. I only have mom to thank for it".
At this, Dumbledore's voice was hushed, "Indeed, thought I wonder how she would feel about how her sacrifice manifested..."
Harry didn't feel like he could argue the point, and returned to the matter at hand, "You can't force me to tell you Professor. You can't force me to do a lot of things anymore".
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled sadly and Harry was surprised by the depth of emotion a man's eyes could show. His voice remained strong and even, wholly unsuited to his sad eyes, "Be that as it may, I am afraid I require your assistance in filling certain gaps in my knowledge, and I cannot tolerate any further deception".
The last bit was said as a vial appeared in his hand. Dumbledore held it out and it spun lazily in the air towards him. Harry reached out and uncorked the top, giving it a cursory sniff. He almost dropped the bottle as he pulled his face away. The clear colour and lack of odour were repellent to his senses.
"No," he said immediately.
"You must, Harry, and you will," Dumbledore replied uncompromisingly.
Harry began to speak, but Dumbledore cut him off, "I cannot force you to take it. Your mother's blood protects you, and of that we are both aware".
He paused, and Harry glanced at the bottle. The light turned cool as reflected off the vial.
Dumbledore continued, "You will take it, by your own will, and you will answer for me five questions. No more, no less. I give you my word".
Harry blinked, his anger turning cold as he turned deathly still.
He immediately threw the bottle as hard as he could into the hearth. It would have shattered upon impact and sent embers flying into the room, had Dumbledore not stopped it a mere inch away from the flames.
"Why am I going to do that, Professor," Harry spat.
Dumbledore smiled, though there was no amusement behind it, "Here are my inquires Harry. I'm afraid that before I can admit you to Hogwarts, I truly do need the whole truth from you".
With this, he produced a piece of parchment from thin air and handed it to Harry. Harry took it and read over it slowly. His hands shook as he neared the bottom. Harry felt his knuckles turning white as he read over the small text again and again. Slowly he felt his temperature rise, until his ears were burning. Even his eyes stung with anger.
The parchment was no exception. The corner Harry grasped between his thumb and forefinger had begun to blacken, the pungent smell of burning lambskin rising into the air. With a sudden burst of magic, fire spread through the paper, incinerating it to a crisp. Even the ashes were not spared Harry's wrath, his hand reaching out to make a fist around them as they fell.
Dumbledore watched all this with no noticeable change, "Are you quite done?"
"Who do you-," Harry began, voice hitching in his throat, "What gives you the right?"
Dumbledore said nothing, his hands reaching within his robes. Yet Harry's anger surged out of his control.
Nostrils flaring, Harry sat up, "You think that everything is just a for you game to play? You of all people lecturing me about muggles? That's rich, and now you think you I'm going to drink your poison and just-"
An envelope fell into his lap. Dumbledore's outstretched hand frozen in place.
Harry eyed it warily, but Dumbledore encouraged him, "Go ahead. Open it".
Fast losing his patience with his headmaster, Harry tore open the manilla envelope, allowing the single photograph within to fall into his lap. His eyes froze as he recognized the figure in the image. The hut began to tremble as a current of magic raced through the building. The hearth nearly going out as a gust of wind boomed into existence. Uncontrolled magic, brought forth by a mighty mage's surging emotions. Harry's fingers shook as he gingerly brought the image up to his face.
A girl, Gods no, a woman now stood in the centre of the frame. Her face was bruised, one of her eyes puffy. Her forehead had been split open, but she stood proud and tall. There was no mistaking her though, he'd never mistake that wild beaver's nest she called her hair for anyone else's. His heart began to race and his focus narrowed in, mystic eyes coming alive and demanding information.
"Where was this taken. When?" he pleaded.
When no response came, Harry looked up to see Dumbledore examining the glass vial. Harry gulped.
"Truth for truth, a fair trade Harry," he said sombrely.
Harry thought for a moment. His anger surfaced, but his body made the choice before his brain had anything to say about it. His mind cried out in opposition as his fingers worked their way around the cork, and he nearly wretched upon downing a gulp of the veritaserurm in one go. It wasn't the taste that made him nauseous, he noted. He eyed the bottle with distaste before passing it back to the professor.
Dumbledore smiled his mirthless smile, before taking a gulp himself.
This chapter is far too long. The exposition is shit, and the character interactions just come off as kinda slimy to me. Please turn your exceptions down and brightness up.