Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Finally, here's the next chapter. Again, thanks to my beta Irihi Safaia, for editing it and for making up the title. /Glance at the end of the page and look around for an escape route/ Well… on with the chapter then. /Sneak away quietly/
Friend or Foe
Chapter 21: Falling into Place
He couldn't win. It didn't even take a moment for Harry to realize why Dumbledore was considered one of the most powerful wizards alive. He could practically feel the man's power. From Harry's memories, Dumbledore's presence had always been reassuring, even when he was 'Alex.' But now, all he could feel from Dumbledore was a kind of cold, collected anger.
Looking into Dumbledore's eyes, Harry flinched. He had seen that gaze before, in his fourth year, and he remembered himself thinking at that time that he would never want to be on the receiving end of Dumbledore's wrath. Under the cold gaze, Harry felt a strange emotion stirring inside him and he froze as he realized what that was. Shame. For some reason, Dumbledore's gaze made him feel ashamed of what he had done.
Dumbledore stared at him with a grim expression. Shaking his head, he raised his wand.
Taking in a shaky breath, Harry shifted to attack stance. His mind was screaming at the absurdity of the situation. What was he thinking? Trying to duel Dumbledore?
No. He wouldn't last a second. He needed to escape.
"Reducto!" he yelled, firing his spell at the wall beside Dumbledore.
The wall shattered, but it didn't slow Dumbledore down as Harry had wanted. Dumbledore calmly took a step away from the collapsing wall and waved his wand in a sharp arc.
Harry swore as the fallen bricks changed direction and flew towards him. Instinct kicked in and he dove sideway. Something hard smashed into his leg and he dropped heavily on the ground. He let out a short cry as the impact sent a wave of pain from his left leg, which seemed to have been broken. Blinking against the dizziness, he looked up, only to find Dumbledore once again pointing his wand at him. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his body refused to move. Unwilling to give up just like that, Harry gritted his teeth and lifted his wand just as Dumbledore was about to deal the final blow.
Then everything stopped. The curse never came. Even from the distance, Harry could see the look of disbelief in Dumbeldore's eyes. He was staring at Harry's wand, looking more shocked than Harry had ever seen before.
Dumbledore had recognized his wand.
Slowly, Dumbledore lifted his gaze and actually looked at Harry for the first time since the duel. The mask that marked him as a Death Eater covered his face almost completely, except his eyes. His eyes… his mother's eyes. Harry knew that was the only confirmation Dumbledore needed.
Harry would never forget the look of shock and disappointment in Dumbledore's eyes at that moment. It hurt, much more than he had expected. It didn't matter how much Dumbledore had hid from him; how much he himself had changed, the fact remained that he cared how Dumbledore thought of him. It hurt to know he had disappointed the man, in the worst way possible.
Harry was unable to react when Dumbeldore raised his wand and disarmed him. He averted his gaze as the old wizard walked towards him slowly. Harry stiffened when he felt a pair of hands gently pull him up from the ground, guiding him to sit beside the low wall of the alley.
Dumbledore stood before him. His apparent calmness did nothing to ease the situation. The twinkles in his eyes were long gone, not even the previous coldness was there anymore.
Slowly, Dumbledore reached down. Harry closed his eyes as he felt his mask being removed. He looked up just in time to see the look of pain cross Dumbledore's eyes.
"Is there a reason why you did this, Harry?" asked Dumbledore, looking older than ever before.
Harry lowered his head. He didn't have the answer Dumbledore wanted. Nothing could justify his actions, no matter what his intention had been. Dumbledore had always been able to help him whenever he had gotten himself into trouble, but not this time.
"No one forced me to, sir, I took the mark willingly," he answered softly.
Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Then why, my boy? You know very well what he has done."
Harry closed his eyes. How could he tell Dumbledore an answer even he himself wasn't sure of?
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Albus waved his wand subtly, sending Harry into a deep sleep as he felt the change of magic in the area. The apparition ward was down. The noise of battle was slowly fading. The raid was nearly over, and their side had lost, terribly.
He looked down at the white mask in his hand, then back at Harry, who had remained silent after saying that no one had forced him to join Voldemort. A sense of terrible loss rushed over him. What had gone wrong? Why hadn't he noticed anything?
Was it because of the time travel? He had not been able to confirm what Harry's friends had told him, but if it was the case…
Had something happened in the past that turned Harry to the road that Tom Riddle had once chosen? Harry's friends had told him that Harry had been using his alternate identity, the one he had used in the past, secretly for several months by now. Was this what Harry had been doing?
Albus was sure of one thing though. He couldn't let the Ministry have Harry, or let the public know of this, or everything would be lost. He would bring Harry back to the Headquarters. He would tell the boy about the prophecy and help him find his way back. He hoped it was not already too late.
He was about to retrieve Harry's wand when a jet of green shot out from nowhere, lightened up the dark alley. Albus moved sideways swiftly. The killing curse traveled past him and hit the ground.
Keeping himself close to Harry, Albus looked up calmly to face the figure approaching him. Despite the distorted appearance, there was no mistaking his identity. It had been fifteen years since Albus had last seen him.
Voldemort stopped several feet away from him. His crimson eyes flickered to Harry's unconscious form near the wall before fixing on Albus.
"I see you are quick to abandon your protégé, Dumbledore," said Voldemort, his voice lacked the mirth that Albus was expecting. Instead, Voldemort's eyes were narrowed in unmasked anger, which seemed unfounded, considering the total victory he had had today. "I'm surprised at how clueless you have been. Potter has been serving me for months and only now did you figure it out."
Albus met Voldemort's gaze steadily. "Harry would not have joined you willingly, Tom, as we both know. You've taken too much from him."
For some reason, this seemed to have affected Voldemort. The anger in his gaze subsided for a brief second before coming back in full force, concealing whatever emotions Albus' words had invoked.
"Believe what you want, Dumbledore," said Voldemort. "This war has spun out of your control. You've lost."
"Lost? I don't believe so," replied Albus with a slight smile. "There's a type of power that is stronger than any magic, and this power is enough to turn the tide in even the worst situation." He glanced at Harry. "You can never control him, Tom, no matter what you do. Harry is protected from your manipulation by the same power that has protected him from your curse fifteen years ago."
Something about the dark and twisted kind of amusement that flashed across Voldemort's eyes sent chills down Albus' spine. Voldemort raised his wand. "It is a shame you will never live to see the irony of your claim, Dumbledore."
And the duel began. It was a duel based purely on instinct and raw power. Voldemort put great power in his deadly curses, intending to finish what he had never been able to – to surpass Albus in a duel.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Albus dodged the curse and went on the offensive. He needed to push Voldemort backward. They were dueling too close to where Harry was for Albus' comfort. Voldemort was firing curses mercilessly, hardly seemed to notice, or care, that one of his deadly curses could have killed Harry.
Albus pushed forward, sending off a spell that surrounded Voldemort with flames. The Dark Lord countered the spell with ease.
"Fool. You believe such spells can kill me?" Voldemort hissed.
"There are things much worse than death, Tom," said Albus quietly.
Voldemort snarled and renewed his attack, pouring even more power into his curses. Albus managed to keep up with the Dark Lord's speed, shielding off spells and transfiguring nearby objects to aid him.
The power Voldemort was displaying worried Albus. The resurrection process didn't seem to have diminished Voldemort's power one bit, quite the contrary. The ancient ritual had made Voldemort into a deadly enemy. Though the Dark Lord was still far from invincible, Albus knew, in terms of sheer strength, he could no longer match the resurrected Voldemort.
Albus sidestepped a killing curse, only to find another one coming his way. Reacting swiftly, he raised his wand and conjured a metal shield out of thin air, effectively blocking the curse that could penetrate any defensive spell.
Voldemort seemed enraged by this. "Avada Kedavra!"
The spell was fast, hitting heavily on Albus' shield. The metal shied broke under the power of the spell, but not before deflecting it off course. The green beam shot past Albus, right towards-
No caring about turning his back on his opponent, Albus spun around, wand in his hand. Too late. He felt his blood freeze as the killing curse sped towards where Harry was.
"Harry!" he shouted, truly frightened.
At the last possible second, a bright red flame appeared before Harry. Fawkes shielded the boy, swallowing the curse in a whole. The phoenix burst into flames, leaving behind a pile of ashes, from which Fawkes would be reborn again.
Albus shut his eyes briefly, relieved that Fawkes had saved Harry life when he had failed to. Turning back, he saw Voldemort was as stunned as he was.
Albus couldn't pinpoint what, but something had happened during the last few seconds, when Voldemort's curse had come very close to killing Harry. In Voldemort's eyes, Albus could detect something totally unexpected – fear.
For a long time, Albus had believed that Voldemort's greatest fear, and probably his only fear, was his own death. He had believed that Voldemort was incapable of caring for someone other than himself. But now Albus realized that was not true. Voldemort had clearly been afraid of Harry's death.
But why? Considering the history between Harry and Voldemort, that made little sense. Voldemort was not the person that would accept those who had wronged him before. And Albus knew for a fact that Voldemort never cared for anyone but himself and–
The pieces slowly fell into place. Severus' report about the new Death Eater. Voldemort's protectiveness over Harry. Harry's traveling to the past, losing his memories...
"Alex," he whispered.
Voldemort turned to him sharply at the mention of the name, confirming Albus' suspicion.
"Harry is Alex," said Albus slowly, his eyes never leaving the Dark Lord.
Voldemort snarled. He raised his left hand and said something that was lost to Albus. Then he pointed his wand at the sky. "Morsmordre."
A glowing Dark Mark formed in the sky. At the same time, a black mist appeared around Albus, blocking his view. He could feel the chilling coldness filling the area as a group of Dementors surrounded him.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Focusing his power, Albus banished the dark creatures with one single spell. But he was still too slow– Voldemort had disapparated, along with Harry.
He stared at the empty spot where Harry had been. Everything matched. There was no mistake. Harry Potter was Alex Salutor. Even though there were still things he didn't understand, he knew there was no doubt that Harry had traveled fifty years into the past, assumed another identity and befriended Tom Riddle.
What did that mean? For the first time since Voldemort's first raise, Albus felt that the outcome of this war was no longer in his hands.
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Peering out from a narrow side-alley, a figure took in the whole scene from under an invisibility cloak.
Dumbledore had finally found out. What would happen then? He would not be surprised if Dumbledore decided to hide his discovery from the Ministry; he knew better than most that it would not be the first time. Either way, Voldemort had taken Harry away. In a sense, the Dark Lord had saved Harry… again.
The figure leaned back on the wall and looked up the Dark Mark hanging in the sky. He took in a deep breath. Voldemort's army was finally leaving.
Following the Dark Lord was not easy. While the invisibility cloak could hide him from most Death Eaters, the Dementors could still sense him and Voldemort himself could see through the cloak. He was relieved that it was finally over.
He admitted that he had been curious. He had been compelled to find out more about the whole messed up situation. That was why he had volunteered for the job when the Order wanted someone to follow Voldemort in battle in case the Dark Lord made any sudden moves. His volunteering had surprised many, maybe even himself. But aside from witnessing some of the most disturbing scenes he had encountered in his life, he had found out much indeed.
He had seen with his own eyes what had transpired between Harry and Voldemort during the whole battle. And once again, he had witnessed the strange bond that seemed to exist between Harry and the Dark Lord.
While he still found the idea of… redeeming Voldemort unbelievable, it was clear that Voldemort's actions had been hindered by Harry's presence. Harry had actually managed to convince Voldemort to spare a life.
The figure sighed. Now he had to decide what to do next. Should he tell Dumbledore what he knew? How much had the man already figured out?
He took off the invisibility cloak, feeling suddenly naked without its protection. Shaking away the strange feeling, he disapparated from the alley. He had been absent for long enough, it was time for him to head back to the Ministry.
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"You traitor! What have you done to Remus?"
Severus wished to blast that idiotic mutt with the nastiest curse he knew of. Couldn't Black see the two Death Eaters following him? Lupin had chosen the precise moment Severus had arrived to knock down Lucius and Severus had to act quickly before any of his 'comrades' had had the chance to send off a killing curse at the unsuspecting werewolf. Severus had actually saved the man's life by merely hitting him unconscious, and here Black was, cursing him for betraying their side.
The Aurors in that area were all engaging in their own battles with other Death Eaters, so it was Black alone versus both Severus and Bellatrix in a duel.
With Bellatrix around, Severus had to keep up with his disguise and couldn't simply let Black escape. He had deliberately created a few openings for Black to run, but that idiot had kept on attacking.
Severus cursed inwardly. Idiotic Gryffindor. It was not the time to play brave. Couldn't Black see he doesn't stand a chance?
It wasn't long before one of Bellatrix's curses hit Black.
"Crucio!"
Black dropped to one knee, his face contorting as he struggled not to scream.
"I expected more of a challenge from you, dear cousin," taunted Bellatrix.
The darker part of Severus looked on with interest, wondering how long it would last before Black lost control. This pain was what Severus had to endure all the time, when Black was safely hidden away…
Black's body soon started to tremble and he let out a cry of pain. Then he clenched his jaw stubbornly, refusing give in to the pain.
But Seveus knew better. No one could endure the cruciatus curse for over a minute without collapsing, unless the person had been subjected to the curse so often that he had gotten used of it, like Severus.
Black's control slowly slipped away. Soon, he started to scream, collapsing onto the ground and twisting in pain as Bellatrix looked on in obvious pleasure.
A minute later, Bellatrix finally released the curse. Black was in a pathetic shape, lying on a pool of his own blood and trembling on the ground.
Bellatrix smirked in triumph. "Your turn, Severus," she said. "Don't make it too long, though. Our Lord is waiting." She gestured at the Dark Mark that had appeared on the sky several minutes ago.
Severus kept his face completely blank as he looked down at Black, who was now glaring at him with utmost hatred in his blood-shot eyes. He raised his wand slowly, his mind racing to think of any possible way to get the mutt out.
Taking on Bellatrix was out of question. Even though Severus believed he could best that witch in a duel, he knew it was suicidal to do so in front of four other Death Eaters.
Letting Black escape was not an option then. The only way left would be to convince Bellatrix that they should let Black live… It would not be easy, and if he failed, Black would have to die.
"You know, Severus," came Bellatrix 's voice from behind him, "I remember hearing an interesting rumor about a traitor among us." She walked up next to him with a twisted smile on her face. "Is that why you hesitate? Because he is one of Dumbledore's dog like you?"
"Of course not," Severus snapped. "I was merely considering sending him to the aurors over giving him a quick death. Dumbledore never bothered to clear his name."
Severus ignored the look Black was sending him.
Bellatrix shook her head. "Azkaban has lost its use without the Dementors," she said. "Killing him here would prove to be quite an entertainment, don't you think, Severus?"
Severus looked down at Black. "Of course," he said quietly, his voice devoid of any emotions.
"Our Lord is waiting. You don't want him to hear of why we are late, do you?" said Bellatrix , seemingly enjoying this conversation.
Severus knew what he had to do. Bellatrix would pay for pushing him like this later, but for now, his own survival came first. He pointed his wand between Black's eyes and called upon all the hatred he had felt for the man.
"Avada Kedavra."