Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, otherwise I wouldn't be writing fics about it and instead have them published in 27 different languages and distribute them around the world to earn megabucks. Teehee.
A/N Extremely sorry for the late update… :(
Chapter 15 – In Memory
Dean was standing in the same room, only it was not bare and empty, but crowded with various delicate, silver instruments placed on top of spindly-legged tables. Some seemed to be asleep, others were emitting faint puffs of smoke and making whirring noises. Light entered through the big glass windows and from the sky, Dean could tell that it was early dawn.
Behind the majestic desk which was now crowded with papers and books, Dumbledore sat, examining one of the silver devices which was purring softly.
Dean felt fuelled with a spark of hope, if Dumbledore was miraculously alive again then their situation seemed much more favourable. Without thinking, Dean walked up to the desk and waved his arms at the Headmaster.
"Professor Dumbledore!" said Dean quickly, "Professor Dumbledore, they're barricading the school and You-Know-Who's coming!"
But the Headmaster seemed utterly absorbed with his thorough examination of the object in his hands. He did look up, however, as someone knocked on the door and looked straight through Dean as if he wasn't there.
"Come in," said Dumbledore, placing his silver instrument on his desk where it issued a puff of smoke.
Dean turned around. On the perch sat a magnificent red phoenix with a golden tail and next to the perch was the cabinet, though there was no stone basin on it now. As logic caught up with him, Dean realised that he had possibly travelled back in time, when Dumbledore was still alive.
The oak door swung open and a tall, lanky man entered, "Professor Dumbledore," he addressed in a timid voice.
"Ah, Theodore, I was expecting you tonight," said Dumbledore indicating to the man to take a seat.
Dean quickly walked away as the man, who did look uncannily like Dean, took the seat opposite Dumbledore.
"Are James and Lily Potter – are they – are they really dead?" asked Theodore in a sad voice.
"Yes," said Dumbledore calmly.
"And how's Harry Potter?" asked Theodore.
"Hagrid and I have taken him to his Aunt's and Uncle's place, he'll be living there at least until he's of age."
The man nodded, "I hope they take care of him well."
"Oh I doubt that," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.
"But it shall have to do."
"It is the strongest protection we can give him," agreed Dumbledore.
"Then I suppose you already know -?"
"Well, I have some theories, yes. But as you are, and have always been, the man most learned in this area, I wanted to –"
"But your theories are usually correct, Professor," interrupted the man, smiling, it seemed, for the first time in a long period. His sunken cheeks and hazy eyes seemed to have uplifted an enormous amount.
"Ah," chuckled Dumbledore, waving the comment away, "Too much flattery is unhealthy for an old man like me."
"But it's the unhealthy things we like eating the most," sighed Theodore, "Tell me what you think Professor, and I'll see if I can add anything to it."
"Lily sacrificed herself for Harry," continued Dumbledore, "And I think that would've made all the difference. Am I correct?"
"Yes," said Theodore, whose eyes seemed to brighten as he went on to explain the concepts connected to his deepest interest, "Her will to keep Harry alive and sacrifice her own instead made sure that Harry didn't die tonight. Lily's love not only flows in Harry's blood, but it is infused and dissolved into Harry's skin. While Harry is the embodiment of so much love, Voldemort who has never appreciated or understood this connection between love and magic, can never touch him."
Dumbledore nodded and indicated for him to continue.
"I think you have ensured that Harry received the strongest protection," said Theodore as the words smoothly rolled out of his mouth like the knowledge was in his very being, "By sending him to his remaining relatives you are making sure that this protection barrier will not falter because Harry's blood will recognise its kin and grow even stronger."
"Yes," said Dumbledore, nodding, "I think I have left a letter to Petunia explaining all of that in short, very short."
Again Theodore smiled, "Of course this protection will break once Harry turns of age."
"Which I think is the time when Harry needs to fight Voldemort."
"He's not gone yet," said Theodore glumly.
"No," said Dumbledore, "Have you been to any celebrations Theodore? I heard Dedalus was holding an enormous party."
"I'm not in a position to be reckless enough to turn up at a party," said Theodore, the smile vanishing from his face, "Besides, we are in much more danger then it appears."
"Ah, you are very wise and cautious," said Dumbledore, who had suddenly taken out a jar of sherbet lemons and offered one to Theodore who kindly declined, "But it is an immense relief, Theodore, we have been haunted by death so long…"
Here, Dumbledore placed a sherbet into his mouth.
"I heard, Theodore, that Voldemort tried to recruit you?"
"Yes," said Theodore, "The Death Eaters confronted me last week on Voldemort's orders. He was trying to recruit more people, especially those who worked for the ministry because he was preparing to take over there, once the Potters were murdered. I think Rookwood suggested they recruit me, we work in the same department, he's always been somewhat fascinated by what I know, though for his master's gain probably."
"So you have been in hiding ever since?"
"Yeah," said Theodore, resting his head in his hands, "I left my family behind, Elena might struggle with the baby, but they're protected under my muggle identity at least."
"Professor Binns always said you were the most vigilant out of all his students," said Dumbledore softly, "What will you do next then?"
"I-I want to return home, but I don't think I should," Theodore sighed.
Dean saw the character of his father clearly. He loved his family but he would never ever do anything to endanger them and would rather isolate himself instead. He also realised with a jolt that his own journey this year was more or less like his dad's though on a smaller degree. They were truly father and son. If not, the mention of Elena, his mother's name was another confirmation of Dean's theory.
"You of all people will know that Lily's love could not altogether kill Voldemort tonight," began Dumbledore, looking out the window as the first rays of sunlight escaped the clouds and the room was flooded with a warm, yellow glow, "He will want to know why and he will want to find out how to combat the protection Harry has. He will send his remaining and most loyal followers to find you. You must not tell them anything," said Dumbledore simply, "It is perhaps best, then, that you remain in hiding."
Theodore nodded miserably and got up, "Well, I think I should leave now, it's almost morning, there will be more people on the streets."
"Theodore," said the Headmaster, standing up, as Dean's father opened the door, "For the sake of Harry, I am so very sorry, I wish with all sincerity that you will be able to return to your family soon."
For once it felt chillingly like Dumbledore could see Dean, like he was apologising to both of them as his sparkling, brilliant blue eyes flickered from father to son.
Theodore nodded, he opened his mouth and was about to say something when he changed his mine and closed it again, and walked through the door.
Then the image swirled and blurred around Dean, when it cleared, Dean found himself in the same office, though it was empty except for the phoenix. But instead of a fully grown, adult bird, it was a small, scrawny little phoenix, whose feathers were beginning to grow.
There were sudden footsteps rapidly climbing the stairs and the door immediately burst open. Dumbledore strode in, followed by a man with a bandaged arm and a bruise on his forehead, the Headmaster indicated the man to take a seat and then closed the door behind them. But the man stayed standing, his eyes were huge, bloodshot, his hair messy and somewhat greasy. Dumbledore took his seat behind the desk, but the man remained standing.
"It was not your fault," said Dumbledore, after a while.
The man did not respond, instead he stood, glaring at the floor between his feet.
"You were force-fed veritaserum," said Dumbledore quietly.
"I know," came the edgy reply.
"It was not your fault," Dumbledore repeated.
"IT. WAS. MY. FAULT." Said the man in between long, sharp breaths. "IT WAS MY ENTIRE FAULT. THEO SHOULDN'T HAVE TOLD ME WHERE HE WAS HIDING, I GAVE HIM AWAY. I BETRAYED HIM." Moaned the man, kicking his chair away, "AND THEN I WASN'T THERE WHEN HE NEEDED ME MOST," yelled the man and all of the sleeping portraits woke up with a start.
"Otus," whispered Dumbledore calmly, "Otus, it was not -"
"YES IT WAS," yelles Otus again, and with one majestic sweep, the papers and books on Dumbledore's desk crumbled to the floor and the chair was knocked over.
"WHY DID I – HOW COULD I – WHAT – I – I WON'T," stuttered Otus as he began knocking the silver instruments onto the floor.
"IF IT WASN'T FOR ME, HE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED, THEY WOULDN'T HAVE FOUND HIM," he yelled between half sobs.
"He is dead," said Dumbledore, "but there is still –"
"YOU," Otus reeled around and slammed his hands onto the desk, "SHUT UP! ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS HARRY POTTER. ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS VOLDEMORT NOT KNOWING WHAT THEO CAOULD'VE TOLD HIM. WELL NOW THEO'S DEAD, VOLDEMORT WILL NEVER KNOW, AND LITTLE HARRY WILL BE SAFE. ARE YOU HAPPY PROFESSOR? WHAT DOES A DEAD MAN MEAN TO YOU, AS LONG AS HARRY IS STILL ALIVE?"
"Otus, there will be a time when you will appreciate Harry and what he will do," said Dumbledore softly, "Theodore never questioned my judgement and he never questioned his faith."
"YOU," said Otus, glaring at the man before him, "HOW COULD YOU SAY – HOW COULD –"
"His faith was not in me," continued Dumbledore, "His faith lay in the future, and I assure you that if anything, Theodore would've made sure that he didn't die in vain."
Otus slumped and fell to the floor in a heap, leaning against the Headmaster's desk.
"Otus, I am truly sorry," said Dumbledore. Dean looked into Dumbledore's eyes and was slightly surprised at the tears filling there.
"He was my best friend," said Otus with extreme effort to control his voice, "I – It feels empty without – without," he said feebly.
"But there is still something you can do, Otus."
"Do -? Do what?" said the man, shoulders shaking.
"When you deem it suitable, find his family, and tell them the truth. Tell them why Theodore left them. It would be a terrible injustice on our part if his story was never told."
"I...different identity…" mumbled Otus.
"But you will find them, Otus," said Dumbledore.
Dean had had enough, the image swirled around him once again and he found himself sitting in front of the black cabinet, this time the office was empty, even all the portraits were bare and there was no phoenix. The stone basin sat on the cabinet, Dean was approaching it when he heard a yell and a crash. Instead he ran to the window and saw that the fight had begun, there was a distant rumbling issued from the Forbidden Forest and then the trees were bent apart as a giant emerged carrying what looked like a huge dog and…and…Hagrid?
So he had arrived back to the present time. Dean looked at the basin again, walking towards it, and placed his hand on the ancient runes and symbols carved on the edges. He was mesmerized again by the wisps of silvery liquid.
'How much more can you tell me?' he thought, as his fingers moved across the surface of the bowl, about to sink into its contents when the whole castle suddenly shook and there were screams and crashes. Dean snapped his fingers back, instead he placed the basin into the cabinet and closed it. He had come to fight and the fight had begun, it was time he left the Headmaster's office. But as he walked towards the oak door, he found himself stopping midway, there were too many thoughts whirring away in his head.
So his father was dead. It hadn't been him who had helped Dean throughout the year, yet he was not a bit disappointed. Seeing him for the first time, albeit in memory, had awakened something in Dean. Theodore Smith was just as Dean had imagined him, in a way, it felt like Dean had known him all along, as if his father was part of him. How could he have ever blamed his father for leaving them, when he had never left Dean? Theodore had loved his family and even in death, he never left his family unprotected.
And the protective enchantments around his house, the phoney "Harry Potter" at King's Cross, the Disillusionment Charm, the patronus, it was all painfully obvious now, who else could it be other than Otus? The man who did, as Dumbledore predicted, found him, and kept him safe and alive.
Then there was the man from the Leaky Cauldron and the golden key, again, could it be Otus? Was the key somehow linked to his father? And then running into Ted, who had obviously followed the patronus, but Dirk, how did Dirk manage to stumble across that town? And Hoot, Hoot had given Dean the photo and the newspaper article, Hoot was the one who had given him the password to this office, and Hoot had also, Dean remembered with a chuckle, shredded his Ministry invitation. Could Hoot be Otus' owl?
As he stood there, marvelling as the bits and pieces slipped into place, he remembered Otus's messy hair, dark brown, almost black hair with stunning stripes of light-coloured tan hair on the surface and those large golden-brown eyes…those eyes...something about them troubled Dean.
Then those last words of Dirk repeated themselves in Dean's head.
"Huge eyes, messy hair - always at least two tufts sticking up - You know what? He kinda reminded me of –"
'an owl,' thought Dean as he inhaled deeply.
Hoot wasn't Otus' owl, Hoot was Otus. The man was an animagus, and the patronus Dean had seen, it wasn't just any bird, it was an owl.