Chapter Three: The Time Warp.
Harry and Albus with Fawkes perched on his right shoulder, emerged from fiery flames in some town's square. The night was starless and deep, so it was almost pitch black.
Harry looked around: a statue of some young couple and their child in mother's hands stood at the centre; various, some accurate and groomed, whilst others desolated and mouldering, houses encompassed the square, trees gently rustled their leaves.
Potter turned his head to his mentor, raising his brow questioningly.
"What's this place, Albus?" he asked.
"Take a closer look at the statue, Harry." Dumbledore replied softly, nodding at the stone impression.
The young man came closer to the statue slowly. He got a feeling that this place was somehow connected with his past.
His eyebrows went up greatly in surprise when he saw a lightning bolt shaped scar on the child's forehead. Poignant tears filled his eyes and once there were too much of them, they went down his cheeks, leaving wet salty trails on his face.
"I... Albus, I want to leave this place." Harry whispered bitterly.
If Dumbledore was surprised his protégé didn't want to see graves of elder Potters, the old man didn't show it. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder reassuringly and they left the place via the small town park.
Their way was short – just about ten-fifteen minutes of walking. They approached an immense sweeping seven-story house which stood apart from the others, separated by a sixteen feet high hedgerow. Without any gates. Once Harry looked closely he noticed that the thick vines, covered in considerably large spikes, were coiling beyond the facing of leaves.
Dumbledore touched the wall of living green mass, and it moved aside - there was a small passage now. The old wizard gestured for Harry to enter first and the young man complied.
There was a large cherry-tree garden before the house, lit by magical twinkles in the air, and a wooden bower with a table and two stools inside.
"Albus, why is the cherry still blossoming? It is the end of July already, isn't it?" Harry asked, looking around admiringly.
Indeed, the trees were covered beautifully in thousands of small snowy flowers that were caressed by the gentle hands of wind. The pair breathed deeply the dewy air, delighted completely by the atmosphere here.
"Ahh... plenty of water has flowed since I stepped my feet into my house before this moment, my boy." Albus said. His blue eyes were cloudy for a moment.
"Oh, sorry, Harry. I'm too old now – can't even stop my ranting sometimes... I charmed them, of course – it is very good to be a wizard most of the time, no?" He continued, smiling under his white beard.
"Why are we here, Albus?" Harry questioned.
"I must teach you too many things, my boy, and, as you know for sure, there is so little time." Dumbledore answered, twinkle in his eyes reaching mad proportions.
"You have time turner and you want me to use it to expand the time-frame of August for us?" Harry guessed.
"My boy, please, stop making such crazy guesses! One turn of this device will make you travel back just for an hour. Can you imagine how much your hand would be covered in callus in the end of the next month?" Dumbledore replied, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I've told you many times that my speciality is Transfiguration and Time Magic. The technique we are going to use is called 'Time Warp'. And no, it's not some time twist that moves you back in your old body with all your knowledge, magic etcetera. Instead, it affects a limited area, making a Time flowing faster a few times then outside of its bounds – it can be adjusted by the creator. The effect? Whilst in the outside world only one month will pass, three years will pass here." Albus explained to his pupil, drawing some complex schemes in the air with his wand, schemes that made Harry's head almost explode after a few futile attempts to understand his mentor.
"I am ready to begin right now." the young man said, determined to give up three years of his life to become a better wizard.
"It's a very serious matter, Harry. It is not the only way, though the most effective... I advise you to think it through carefully for a few days and only then give me the answer. There is no turning back once we begin." Dumbledore said seriously.
"Albus, you have told me there is no miracles in this world, even with magic. You can't liven the dead up, drink some potion that bestows Basilisk animagi form on you and quadruples your magical power; there are no silly swords that can turn their owner into a killing machine and deflect Unforgivables. By the look on your face I've understand that the only other way is to use a time turner and I won't use it – too farcical." Harry parried.
"Good. Then let us begin this instant. Follow me." his mentor said, going towards the heavy entrance double doors.
He stopped abruptly after making a few steps.
"And, my boy."
"Yes, Albus?"
"The Time Turner is as dangerous as a bee in comparison with the Time Warp, which is Voldemort, if we follow the analogy. One small mistake and we are both trapped in the Infinity – unable to move, unable to die, unable to think, unable to do anything." Dumbledore stated, evidently not joking at all.
Harry gulped nervously. Still he was too stubborn to stop once he had begun.
"Albus, why your house is so huge? You don't even live here!" Potter complained. They had been walking for half of an hour already – his mentor's house went underground thrice as much as above.
"Of course I don't need such a vast house, but it is the matter of sentimentality. If you studied the history of Dumbledores you would know that my family lost its all wealth and prestige – so poor it was that my ancestors had to sell our family place about four hundred years ago... Once I defeated Gellert, becoming rich and known around the world, I bought and renewed it." Albus answered.
The entered into a large circular room with high stone ceiling and walls. It was completely empty.
"What are we doing here, in the empty room, Albus?" Harry asked.
"This room is suitable to contain the foundation of the Warp. Harry, it is imperative that we don't leave this place until the ritual is finished. Now, position yourself at the centre. Good. Do not leave it." Dumbledore said.
He started to carve a ligature of magic symbols on the wall with a conjured knife. Harry could comprehend only a few: time, acceleration and isolation. It all seemed like a scene from some cheap fantasy film for him – he was quite sure at the moment that his mentor would carve a pentagram or something similar nonsense on the floor beneath Harry. Alas, or fortunately, Dumbledore didn't.
The old man connected his wand's tip to the symbol chain and started channelling his magic in it. The air was trembling around Albus, and a visible bright aura of power surrounded him, blinding Harry. The symbols started glowing one by one making deep humming sound. Suddenly Harry felt piercing pain inside his head, accompanied by a high ringing in his ears, and the young man fainted, being taken in the warm embrace of oblivion.
Harry awoke on the stone floor of the same room. The floor was surprisingly warm and.. soft? He wondered how stone floor could be soft. Potter slowly stood up, only partly remembering what happened with him. The low humming of glowing symbols could still be heard and Harry instinctively knew that the ritual was successful: the atmosphere was different, even the air tasted.. strange? Yes, strange was the right word.
He was trying to recollect his memories, when his mentor entered the room.
"Harry, finally, you have awoken! Come, there is much to do – we must make your three years here very productive." Dumbledore said and started to walk outside, Harry on his trail.
From this moment on, for the whole period of three years, Harry had only five hours to sleep every day – the rest nineteen hours he spent learning from Albus. It seemed as if his mentor had very little time left until the next great adventure – Dumbledore literally poured the knowledge in the young man's head by gallons. The old man didn't pity his protégé at all, loosing all his 'grandfathering' likeness. Harry sometimes thought his brain was going to explode, but he restrained himself, giving his laziness and doubts a nice strong kick in the ass. There were no place for games and only two people were in the vast family house of Dumbledores – teacher and his pupil.
Albus once jocosely told Harry during the dinner that the young man knew now what he was getting himself into – almost no time to rest, a horde of boot-licking poodles, Dark Lords breathing in his neck, and crazy training.
Although Dumbledore didn't like the word: he preferred to use 'Self-Improvement' in his lexical circulation.
That crazy sadistic old man – if trying to take out twenty animated wooden dummies at once (that cast quite painful stinging hexes at him, and, once they reached Harry, they kicked him in the butt – ouch) using only silent 'Diffindo' was 'Self-Improvement', then he was a man-veela capable of bonding all the girls he wanted to himself, turning them into his sexual slaves. Ehh.. dreams..
But let us return back to the first day after the Time Warp ritual and watch everything in more chronological order.
Forward. Left. Ahead again and to the right... Harry was sure that if he wasn't accompanied by Albus, the young man would be lost in this labyrinth. After walking silently for only Merlin knows how long, they finally passed through the front entrance and sat at the table inside the bower.
"My boy, we must discuss your daily timetable. Do you have any suggestions that you would like to share with me?" Dumbledore said, putting his elbows on the table edge and connecting his fingertips in front of his face. Snowy white blossoms of cherry were reflecting on his spectacles' glass.
"More Time Magic practice and.. emm.. maybe something new?" Harry guessed, not quite prepared for such a question.
"Yes, Harry, I will teach you some new techniques of Time Magic – more offensive part of it this time. Also, being sure about your considerable knowledge of Runes and Arithmancy, I will introduce the art of Spell-Crafting and Enchanting to you. But let us not try jumping over our own heads – some good old Combat Transfiguration and Charms will be poured into your still empty head first. Ah, by the way, here is your timetable!" Dumbledore said, giving a sheet of parchment to Harry.
The young man scanned it quickly: waking up, physical enhancement, alchemy, blablabla... wait WHAT?
"Why isn't there any breakfast and lunch time with only one dinner in week, each Sunday, Albus?"
"Our dinners are going to be every week's conclusion – the perfect time to think through everything you've learnt and ask some last questions before moving on. You'll get nutritious potions instead of normal food – I know, they aren't the most tasty kind of potions, but they are very convenient in our situation." Dumbledore answered with a weird twinkle in his eyes.
Harry slowly rubbed his temples – he finally realized that he signed in for the trip to Hell and back.
"We've lost one day already, Harry. Let's begin with the silent casting practice..."
Albus swiftly conjured a dozen of magic dummies out of thin air and ordered them silently to beat the consciousness from Harry.
"You may use everything you know, but without oral incantation, my boy."
Clap. Clap. Clap... The sound of heavy wooden steps were heard by Harry. Only about seventeen feet separated him from the dummies.
"Oh shit..." he thought, and started casting all kinds of direct offensive spells he knew.
'Incendio' burnt one into dust.
The second one was split in halves by 'Divido Raptim' – a charm that magical lumberjacks used to cut the wood, though it could cut more than just mere wood, imitating a cleave by a huge invisible axe.
By the time the wooden constructs approached Harry, he took out only three. Nine dummies started to stomp the hell out of him with their heavy blunt feet.
When Harry awoke the next day all bruised, in the same place and was met by his mentor, who towered over the lying young man already. Albus' face was dead serious – no twinkle, no mirth in his eyes, only the harsh tangible aura of power around him.
He offered his right hand to Harry, who gladly took it, standing up.
"You want to become the greatest – you will be, but remember – there is always a price tagged on everything. Here, take your breakfast." Albus gave a nutritious potion to Harry, who swallowed it all in one single gulp.
Eww...
For the whole first month, Dumbledore had been telling Harry about mistakes of his youth: the Greater Good and Grindlewald and Ariana with Aberforth. Harry had heard it all before, but Albus explained even the smallest details this time: his feelings towards Gellert, his arrogance and his selfishness that led to the demise of his sister.
Then for the rest of the first year Harry had been taught the whole Hit-Wizard Program – his mentor used to be one during the time between his mid-twenties and the beginning of thirties. The difference between Hit-Wizards and Aurors, as Albus explained to Harry, was similar to the difference between Special Forces and muggle Police – vast and extremely significant.
The young man was taught the basic magical survival skills, which included food and water conjuration, first and not only first magical aid; and intensive combat training.
The last bit he would remember for the whole life – Dumbledore usually conjured dummies that could cast a set of simple offensive spells like 'Stupefy', 'Diffindo' and 'Expelliarmus'. Also they kicked Harry in the ass once they approached him.
During the last month of the first year Dumbledore even duelled with Harry a few times – their duels last for only several seconds, but Albus assured the young man that in the end of his Three-Year Harry would be a formidable opponent even for him.
The second year was all dedicated to the Time Magic - Harry honed his control over time flow and learned the only direct offensive Time Magic spell, which was borderline dark, and its modifications from Albus.
The day Harry was taught this spell, or, actually, the sensations he felt when he used it for the first time, imprinted on his mind forever.
Harry was standing by his mentor in the Practicing Hall – the huge room with twenty feet high ceiling which, together with the walls, was warded heavily so that its inhabitants could cast everything their hearts desired.
Albus turned to his pupil, starting his lecture.
"Time Magic does have the offensive branch, Harry, though it includes a single spell and many modifications of it. The spell I am going to show you must be used with great caution – while it doesn't condemn your soul as Dark Magic does, it surely may corrupt you with its power, twisting your mind. Just as Unforgivable Curses, it can't be blocked by magic directly and it is very potent. Watch."
He conjured a big grey wolf and held his wand in both hands, pointing it at the animal.
"Exsiccatus Ocius Conducta!"
A thick opaque beam of grey light reached the wolf. The animal's body aged instantly and rapidly decayed making even its bones turn into dust. For the whole ten seconds that the spell took to destroy the animal, it was paralysed, unable to move at all – unable to escape. Harry could see the excruciating pain it felt.
Dumbledore wiped the sweat from his forehead by his robe's sleeve. He was obviously tired. Still, he continued his lecture, turning again to his protégé.
" 'Exsiccatus Ocius' can be used against non-living objects as effectively as against living and breathing.."
"Even against vampires, Albus?" Harry interrupted his mentor. The young man remembered well what he read about the nocturnal blood-suckers – they weren't affected by aging.
The old man chuckled lightly.
"Harry, what do they feed on?"
"Blood."
"And if they don't drink the blood regularly what happens?
"They die."
"There is your answer, my boy. While the vampires are not affected by deterioration, they do have to feed, in fact vampires, because of their blood hunger, die much faster under this spell. Now try it yourself, Harry."
Albus conjured the second wolf.
'Exsiccatus Ocius Conducta' Harry exclaimed, mimicking his mentor.
The grey beam connected the young man and the animal. The latter started to slowly age and decay. While the wolf was dying in front of his eyes, Harry was feeling as if something incredibly powerful and eternal breathed in his neck, looking at him as if he was a mere insect. Potter's gut told him to not look back, and he trusted his gut. He knew if he failed to suppress his curiosity and did look back he would be damned forever.
After seeing that there was nothing left of the poor animal, Harry dismissed the spell, only then realizing how exhausted he was. His hands were shaking and he was all covered in sweat as if he just left a steam-room.
"Albus, when I channelled this spell, I felt as if something stood right behind me, watching.." Harry said, accepting the bottle of water his mentor gave him.
"Harry, it is Time itself. Using 'Exsiccatus Ocius', you act as a bridge between Time and Target, that's why you feel It being close to yourself." Dumbledore answered.
Then he looked seriously at Harry.
"And, my boy."
"Yes, Albus"
"Never look back when you use this spell, if you do not wish to feel its effect on yourself."
Albus taught Harry the basics of Enchanting and Spell-Crafting for the whole third year. While both arts were not Harry's cup of tea, the young man studied them as hard as he could.
"Enchanting is a very precise art, Harry. Being its friends helps us, great magi, to survive. It can make you so fast that your opponents would see only a blur, so strong that you would be able to pick up a ten ton rock; it can turn a mere robe into an armour that can deflect spells back at their casters. But the price is high – a single mistake in calculations and you are on your way to the next great adventure."
"And you never know if everything is well or no, until you test it on practice."
"As you of course know already, Numerology is a part of Arithmancy that studies the Magic of Numbers. Give me some examples, my boy." Dumbledore said, walking back and forth slowly with his hands closed behind his back.
"One is the focus – it's best for a single purpose, two is the connection between opposites, three is the sides of one same, four is the death, five is the excellence, six is the misfortune – it turns the meant effect into something completely different, seven is the perfection.." Harry said.
"Enough for now, my boy. I wanted to ask you what you know about Runes, but there is no need for it now – I am sure you understand them as well as Numerology." Dumbledore interrupted the young man.
"Enchanting requires the person, who use it, to excel both in Numerology and Runes. Now can you please guess what rune and number take the main role in the Spell Deflection Enchantment?"
"One for one purpose, and the Mirror for deflection?" Harry asked.
"You may use this set, but it would not be very potent: as you said, One is for one purpose – the more narrow is the profile, the better. It would be perfect if I asked you to create, for example, the Stunning Charm Deflection Enchantment."
Harry started to take notes, writing them on the parchment.
"But, if I wanted to create the Spell Deflection Enchantment, which, as its name suggests, should be universal, I would use Six instead of One and the Shield instead of Mirror. Six, being the Misfortune – the last thing anybody expects, would turn the spells against their casters, the shield would save you from the effect, while the mirror is fragile and can cut you with its shards."
"Now, what numbers and runes I would need if I wanted to enchant my spectacles to see invisible?"
"The last week, I introduced the Enchanting to you. This time, I ask to love and favour, the Spell-Crafting."
"As you know, Arithmancy has a branch similar to Divination that allow magi to predict the future. To create a new spell you need to have two halves – first is, of course, purpose, second is the right incantation. Arithmancy helps you to find the right parts of incantation. For example, I want to create a spell that would comb my hair – I start to select suitable Latin words and check them arithmancically to find the best."
"What about wand movements, Albus?" Harry asked.
"My boy, can't you guess yourself? The same way."
Harry put his face in palms – the last year was going to be Hell.
Greatness... Greatness is such a versatile concept. Anybody could say that Dumbledore was a great wizard, or Voldemort, or Grindelwald, or One of the Hogwarts Four, or Merlin. Every one of those great wizards left a mark in the history, becoming immortal in the minds of magi. Harry James Potter became known everywhere in the Wizarding World before he started to talk clearly, but he wasn't great. Yet. He was on his path to greatness.
Snowy white cherry flowers surrounded the duo again. Myriads of those beautiful blossoms and leaves slowly made a gentle noise – 'Shhhhh...', they were trying to shush everyone who dared to speak near them.
Both Albus and Harry were standing still, not moving, studying each other's eyes, wands loosely at their sides.
Potter, being much younger and considerably less patient opened the duel.
'Expelliarmus!' the red beam almost reached the old wizard when he apparated away, turning up behind Harry.
'Opprimo Unum' Dumbledore sent a thin shock-wave towards the young man, but Harry swiftly apparated too.
The battle stated to increase its pace: both opponents popped up, cast some offensive spell and disappeared to pop up again somewhere else.
It continued until they started to use the Time Magic.
'Strigo..' Albus started incanting
'Tempus Tardo!' Harry cast quickly.
'.. Momentum' Dumbledore finished, stopping the time flow. He cast a few stunning and disarming charms from several angles at Harry and released the spell.
Five Stupefy's and two Expelliarmus'es rapidly flew towards Potter, but the young man was under too fast for them – he quickly dodged them, apparated behind his mentor's back and sent a disarming charm at Albus.
The old man deflected it with 'Protego'
Dumbledore clapped his hands in applause
"Not bad, my boy" the last two words triggered the contingency.
After a blinding flash of light disappeared, Harry was paralysed and disarmed instantly.
"You must always be prepared completely, Harry. I noticed a few weeks ago that you stopped to use the contingency practice – very bad, my boy, very bad. Still, I am very proud of you – you've become a great young man." Albus said, after releasing Harry from 'Petrificus Totalus' and returning his wand.
Indeed, Harry Potter became a great young man. He was six feet four inches now, well built but without too defined musculature – he was a wizard, not an athlete. His constant close proximity to Albus Dumbledore affected the green-eyed wizard a lot – his emerald eyes held a portion of his mentor's wisdom, his movement became confident, shoulders straighten and mind crystal-clear.
"Tomorrow we will apparate to the King's Cross Platform Nine and Three Quarters – there Sirius will be waiting for us. Then you will take your usual Hogwarts Express Trip, preferably without any childish fighting, Harry – you are seventeen years old now. Do not tell the truth to anyone – for everyone but two of us and Sirius, who already wowed a magical oath, you just spent all the Summer in the Black Manor." Dumbledore instructed Harry.
Harry was adult now – he completely understood why his mentor gave him such instructions, without some stupid naïve childish grievance.
"Yes, Albus, I understand. What's about the Tournament?" Potter asked.
"What about the Tournament, my boy? Of course you will participate in it! The Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament is a very good support in your Personal History." The old man's eyes twinkled brightly.
"Isn't it quite risky?"
"Harry, life itself is a sequence of risks. They make it interesting."
"Uhuh."
They sat in the bower for the whole night, having a small talk and consuming a killer portion of lemon sherbet and tea.
Harry got a feeling that this night was one of the few last peaceful ones in his near future.
AN: People, seriously, write some reviews please! If the story is bad and silly then write – your story sucks, man, please delete it. If it's good enough for you review too!
I have a question for the folk of GB – how do you call the document where every ounce of information about you is kept? I dunno if it's Personal File or Personal History or whatever – please correct me here.
Lemon Sherbet, not Lemon Drops – sorry.
Finally a new review!
Fox of the Blood Moon – Daphne is... hard to write about(?) I regret a lot that I screwed her fiery character with feelings towards Harry, but just read and see. The first three academic years were more like a collection of 'flashes' than normal story – a ~25k words prologue. I am scheming the scenes of Harry/Daphne and Daphne/Other-Girl (not sex scenes, you now: fighting, talking – this kind). Khem. About Voldegin's eyes – she is a... 'mix' of 16-year old Voldemort and Ginny Weasley, their magical cores are merged, her soul and his shard of a soul are merged, their minds are merged, but she is Dominant, not he – she did inherited his crimson eyes though. You may parry here with the point that it's unlikely for just sixteen year old Tom to have crimson eyes, but we should remember that he, though young, already made his first horcrux.
I am outlining a new story. It is Sirius-Centric and dances around the idea of 'What if Sirius was a real betrayer?' It is NC-17, a lot of sailor-style words, sex, alcohol, drugs(magical!), bloody human and not-so-human intestines spilled everywhere, and all kinds of extremism – yep, from more canonical Pureblood Supremacy to the naked racism. The raw version of Chapter One is ready – it just needs some polishing. And no, I'm not a racist, thank you very much. But the story about magical extremist seems to be catching, no?