Chapter 23

Bane

Scheming with spells, Polyjuice Potion, and Horcruxes was one thing. Ron, however, was a quite a different matter, one Harry had to deal with carefully since Ron was his best mate. He'd become monosyllabic even around Harry; any attempt to broach the subject of the Vault Tournament was met with an indifferent shrug and nothing else. Harry had offered to go with him to the next Round of the Tournament, to no avail. Even Hermione offering to help him with Charms, one of his more difficult subjects, met with no luck.

Ginny offered a sublime solution which made Harry smile but which he nevertheless rejected: "Let me put a Bat-Bogey Hex on him; then he'll be so mad at me he'll have to tell you all about it. Then I'll just say I was worried about my big brother and he'll forgive me. Works every time."

The Friday before the Eight Round of the Vault Tournament, Harry was laying on his bed, studying, when Ron slouched into the room. He set his book bag down on his trunk and stretched out on his bed without saying anything to Harry. Harry in turn didn't look up from his book, but from the corner of his eye saw Ron was playing with the model of the Vault he'd gotten from Fred and George's. Ron seemed fully immersed in the model and after a few moments Harry went back to reading.

"So were you thinkin' of going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, or what?" Ron said suddenly, his voice carefully casual as he twiddled the knob on the Vault model.

Harry looked up from the book. "Yes, if you like."

Ron shrugged as if indifferent to Harry's response. "It might be a laugh," he said dully.

Harry closed his book and gave Ron a hard look. "Ron, I've already said I'd be happy to go with you if you like. I'm sure we can even get Jon to drive us, it's been over a month now since we got out of school on the weekend. How did you get to London on your own anyway, when you went before?"

"Apparated."

Harry sat up. "Really? All the way to London? By yourself?" Harry was impressed; he'd Apparated about that far, he figured, when he and Dumbledore had returned from the cave where they'd found the fake Horcrux back to Hogsmeade. But the need had been great, then, and he'd never tried to Apparate that distance since.

"Well, I did have some help from Fred," Ron said truthfully. "When we didn't go that first time I owled him and had him come to Hogsmeade to help me there the first time. You know, Side-Along. We Apparated to the Burrow first – it was somewhere I was familiar with – then went on to Diagon Alley."

"How was it, doing Side-Along?" Harry asked, very interested.

"Not too bad," Ron said, warming up; he was enjoying recounting his adventure to Harry. "Fred does a good job. I guess I had more fun doing that than I did at the Tournament itself. But the trip back to Hogwarts was awful."

Harry grimaced. "You didn't Splinch or something, did you?"

"Nah," Ron said, waving a hand dismissively, "but I tried making it in one go, and it made me sick to my stomach. You asked me later if I was okay an' I told you I'd eaten a Puking Pastille by mistake."And, as before, things were back to normal just like that. Harry got out a piece of parchment and wrote a quick note to Jon asking if he was interested in driving to Diagon Alley for Round Eight Saturday morning; if he wasn't, Harry figured he and Ron could make it there by Apparating. He tapped the parchment with his wand and it folded itself into a butterfly shape; with a puff of breath Harry sent it on its way to land on Jon's bed. He figured Jon would see it before he went to sleep tonight.

And so he did, and by breakfast the next morning they had once again assembled nearly the entire Vault Tournament crew: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Jon and Deirdre. Harry had fallen asleep before Neville came to bed the night before, and he'd still been asleep when Harry and Ron went down for breakfast. Harry considered waking Neville up but he didn't see Luna at breakfast either. In the end he just let that slide; they'd probably go again the next time.

Ron kept the group entertained during the trip by describing the previous two Rounds; it was a toss-up which was more entertaining, the contestants' efforts to open the Vault or his efforts to get to Diagon Alley and back to Hogwarts by Apparating.

Jon parked in the same car park he'd used before and they made their way through the Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley and from there to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and were happily greeted by Fred and George, who caught Harry aside at the first opportunity to have a private chat.

"First things first," Fred said, handing Harry two phials of Polyjuice Potion. "Just add a bit of Malfoy to this and it'll be good to go."

Harry took the phials. "Ron told you what it was for, then?"

"Yeah," George nodded. "Brilliant move, Harry, impersonating Malfoy to talk to his father."

"Hope it works," Harry said earnestly. "But why two doses?"

"In case of emergency," Fred said. "You never know when an extra dose of Polyjuice Potion could come in handy. Just think – if the fake Moody'd had some the night Voldemort came back, you might not be here right now."

Harry nodded soberly.

"And we might not be in our own shop right now," George finished, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Although some might think me insensitive for saying so."

"You? Insensitive?" Harry made a dismissive gesture and grinned at both of them.

"Any plans for what to do with Malfoy while you're off at Azkaban?" Fred asked.

"No idea," Harry said. "I still haven't worked out what'll happen when Malfoy and his father talk afterwards and realize someone impersonated him. Not to mention that Malfoy's dad told him not to come round anymore."

"That could work in your favor, you know," Fred said thoughtfully. "If Malfoy doesn't visit him any more it might not come up in conversation anytime soon."

"That's true," Harry admitted.

"Ron says you brew up a first-rate Draught of Living Death," George added. "That's why you won the bottle of Felix Felicis last year from Slughorn, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry remembered. "I get it. If I can get Malfoy to drink some, he'll be out cold while I get to Azkaban and back."

"Or you could just Stun him and pour some down his throat afterwards," Fred suggested. "That way he won't have much chance to refuse it." Harry chuckled.

"Harry!" Ron's voice called out from the front of the store. "Let's get lunch before it gets too late!" Thanking Fred and George again for the Polyjuice, Harry rejoined the group and they made their way to a café not far from Gringotts.

Watching the groups of people passing by as they ate, Harry heard Deirdre say softly to Jon, "There doesn't seem to be as many people here today as there was the last time."

"Maybe not," Jon agreed. "I think the excitement's beginning to wear off a bit. This morning's Prophet said there were only three contestants in today's Round."

"What will they do if no one can open it?" Deirdre asked curiously, looking around the table now, as if inviting comments.

"Someone will eventually get it open," Ginny said, giving Ron a sideways glance. "The only question is when."

"I've noticed that about you wizards," Deirdre spoke up. "Your society, that is," she added. "Always in a hurry to get things done, always busy with plans to do this or that. You never seem to experience life – only to rush through it."

"So what advice would you give those contestants who're trying to open the Vault?" Ron asked her. Harry could guess Ron's motive for asking that, but everyone looked at Deirdre, waiting for her response.

The attention seemed to intimidate her, but she drew herself up and answered. "In Divination, Professor Trelawney is having the class try to predict which contestant will open the Vault." She smiled, looking almost indulgent. "I sometimes wonder how that woman ever obtained that position at your school. She seems truly hopeless."

Harry, who knew more than most about how Sibyll Trelawney got the Divination job at Hogwarts, said nothing. Hermione, however, who had no love lost over the subject, leaned forward and said, "She's a fraud."

There were murmurs of assent around the table. "I don't know why she even bothers," Deirdre said scornfully. "She's missing the most important point of all – it's not important who opens the vault, it's what will happen because of it being opened."

"And what's that?" Hermione said. Her voice had gone a bit cool; evidently she'd taken Deirdre for a skeptic from her initial comments about Trelawney.

"The signs point to a final, great upheaval," Deirdre said, looking around at them seriously. "It has been a long time coming, but it will end soon."

"What will end soon?" Harry asked curiously. "The war with Voldemort?" There were several gasps as other customers around them heard the Dark Lord's name spoken; they looked at him in consternation.

Harry lowered his voice. "Is that what you meant, Deirdre?"

But Deirdre, having seen looks of fear or suspicion from other wizards seated around them, shook her head. "I shouldn't be involved in any of your affairs," she said, looking apprehensive. And she would say no more.

Ginny spoke up. "We should get over to Gringotts anyway; it'll be getting crowded before much longer." They stood up to leave.

Hermione, next to Harry, was muttering under her breath as she got to her feet. "What?" Harry asked, looking at her.

She shook her had dismissively, but then looked at Harry and said, so low only he could hear her, "It's all rubbish, you know. That business about the 'great upheaval' – she's as bad as Trelawney."

"Trelawney was right about the Prophecy, you know," Harry pointed out.

Hermione shrugged. "A flash of insight, nothing more. She's running off the reputation of her great-great-grandmum. And I don't know what game Deirdre is playing at."

"Why do you think she's playing at anything?" Harry wanted to know. "Not everyone's as skeptical as you."

"You are," Hermione said, sounding almost as if she were accusing him of something. "You don't believe in any of this rubbish either, do you?"

"I just know," Harry said as they fell in behind the group now heading toward Gringotts, "that Professor Trelawney spoke the Prophecy to Professor Dumbledore before I was born, and she predicted that Peter Pettigrew would escape and join Voldemort. That one I heard myself."

Hermione didn't offer any more objections, and they silently followed the others over to Gringotts, where the Vault stood prominently, as it had the last time they were here, in the street in front of the Wizarding bank. The speaker's podium, hourglass timer and a row of chairs were set up, as usual, in front of the Vault. There was no sign of Bill, or anyone else, however, even though it was now nearly 2 p.m..

"Did the Prophet say who would be trying to open the Vault today?" Ginny asked Hermione as they found a spot near the platform where they could easily see the Vault.

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Just 'three contestants,' according to this morning's article. It was mostly about the last round and the overall inability of anyone to open the Vault."

"Makes for great advertising for Gringotts," Ron commented. "See how secure our vaults are!"

"Yeah," Ginny chortled. "Except when they can't get into one of their own vaults!"

"I got the impression," Harry said, looking at the Vault. "That this isn't one of theirs."

Bill Weasley walked out of the bank and onto the platform. "Welcome, everyone," he said after he'd stepped up to the podium. "Sorry for being a bit behind, but we were sorting out a few details."Welcome to Round Eight of the Gringotts Vault Tournament. We've seen some exciting magic in the past few rounds – I hope this round will prove to be every bit as interesting. Now, without further ado I'd like to introduce our first contestant. He's a little unusual, folks, but don't be alarmed –"

A figure stepped out of the front doors of the bank, and there was a collective gasp despite Bill's warning. Standing taller than a man, with sleek black hair and skin, a centaur trotted onto the platform to stand next to the hourglass timer.

"Whoa!" said Ron, startled.

"That's appropriate," Jon said softly, looking with interest at the centaur.

"Harry," Hermione breathed, grabbing his arm. "We've seen that centaur before, haven't we?" Harry nodded. "It's –"

"Bane," Deirdre whispered. Hermione looked quickly at her, then at Harry.

"Do you know him?" Harry asked.

Bane stood looking out over the crowd, an expression of mingled contempt and indifference. He looked, if possible, even larger and wilder than he had over a year ago when he and a group of centaurs had found him and Hermione being forced to travel in the Forbidden Forest by Dolores Umbridge to recover a weapon she believed hidden there. In reality, it had been a ruse by Hermione to get them into the forest where she hoped the centaurs would intervene. They had, but things would not have gone well for Harry and Hermione except for an unforeseen encounter with Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother, who chased off the centaurs threatening Harry and Hermione. Umbridge, by that time, had already been carried off by Bane himself, and had only been released when Dumbledore himself went into the forest to retrieve her.

"He's – he's known in my village," Deirdre said slowly, still looking at the centaur as he pawed the platform impatiently, waiting for Bill to finish reading the rules of the Tournament once again.

"Now, Bane," Bill said after finishing the reading of the rules. "Please put your token into the timer to start your 30 minutes."

Bane stepped forward. "I have something to say before I begin," he said imperiously, looking over the throng of people who stared, apprehensively, back at him.

"Humans," Bane intoned, his voice deep and powerful. The murmurs of the crowd all but died away as everyone's attention focused on him. "For millennia, we centaurs have observed the actions of both men and wizards, as each race has pursued its course through history. Always, we have sought to remain apart from the struggles between you and men, to divine our purpose in accordance with the celestial order, and to remain free of the madness of ignorance and fear both you and humankind mutually engage in with each other."

Bane pawed the platform restlessly. "The time has come, however, to put aside our solitude, to cast off our destiny to be left in peace. A great upheaval is coming, one which determine the fate of many in our worlds, for good or for ill.

"This artifact –" Bane pointed to the Vault "— represents a turning point for those in the Wizarding world and all whose lives touch upon and are touched by magic. This includes we centaurs.

"By claiming this prize, we shall force the Wizarding world to examine its own faults, its own failures, and its own preconceptions. In doing so, it is hoped, you will come to understand yourselves, and us, better. I will now begin." Bane produced his token and inserted it into the base of the hourglass timer. As the hourglass began its 30-minute countdown, he moved toward the Vault.

Harry saw Deirdre lean close to Jon. "He's misread the signs," she whispered to Jon, shaking her head. "He will fail. His anger is clouding his reason."

"Why is he angry?" Harry asked in an equally low voice.

Deirdre looked at him. "Bane has always opposed the status quo of his tribe," she said, watching as the centaur moved slowly around the walls of the Vault, examining them minutely as so many contestants had before him. "While they have always wished to isolate themselves from humans, Muggle and wizard alike, Bane has tried to force them into a more active role."

"For what purpose?" Hermione, who'd heard the conversation as well, now asked. "Centaurs chose to be regarded as Beasts by the Ministry of Magic. The ones we've spoken to, though, have always maintained they were more intelligent than wizards. If Bane wants to change that, why doesn't he just go to the Centaur Office at the Ministry to apply for a change in status, if that's what he wants?"

But Deirdre simply shook her head. "Only Bane himself knows his counsel on that."

Bane had completed his examinations and returned to the front of the Vault. He stood staring at it for perhaps a minute, then looked back at the crowd momentarily before reaching up into his mane of wild, black hair and producing – a wand.

The response of the onlookers was galvanic – there were gasps and cries of surprise and anger. "It's got a wand!" someone in the crowd shouted. Only wizards were allowed to own wands, Harry knew.

Bill stepped up to the podium, trying to calm to onlookers. "It's alright, everyone; we've verified that Bane has permission from the Ministry to carry a wand under special circumstances."

"Funny that Dad's never mentioned that before," Ron muttered.

"How many conversations about centaurs trying to open bank vaults have you had with him recently?" Jon asked with a smirk.

Bane had turned back to the Vault, ignoring the muttering and restlessness of the crowd, and began manipulating the dial, causing the tiles on the front door to slide and turn into different positions. Ron became very interested in watching, as did, Harry noted, Deirdre.

Bane's manipulations went on for some time. Harry tried to follow what he was trying to do with the tiles, but he could see no discernable pattern. Ron was equally lost. "I can't figure out where he's going," he said finally.

"He's attempting to set up an astronomical chart using the tiles," Deirdre said at once. "He's equating the symbols with the Earth, Sun, Moon, the eight planets, four minor planets Ceres, Pallas, Juno and Vesta, and Polaris the pole star, making fifteen."

"That's interesting," Hermione said, studying the tiles anew. "I would never have thought of that interpretation."

"But it's not going to work," Deirdre said, shaking her head. "Bane is not the one who will open the Vault."

"How do you know?" Ron asked quickly.

"He does not have the proper aspect," Deirdre said cryptically.

Harry was beginning to wonder how Deirdre could know all these things about Bane when suddenly there was a loud CLICK from the Vault. The centaur moved back a pace and nodded at Bill, who then stepped up to the podium to announce, "Bane will now attempt to open the Vault. Everyone, quiet please."

Bane strode up to the lever and pulled it down. The lever moved freely but there was no other sound from the Vault. Bane tried to pull the door open but remained solidly in place. After several long seconds of pulling the centaur released the handle with an angry snort and turned away quickly, as if in disgust.

As he moved away, however, there was a soft phutting sound and Bane reared momentarily onto his back legs. He spun halfway around with a bellow of rage, and Harry could see that there was a small arrow embedded in his rump. Deirdre let out a sudden giggle and Bane glanced quickly at the crowd before reaching back and plucking the arrow free. He threw the arrow at the foot of the Vault.

Bane appeared greatly agitated now, pacing back and forth across the platform, his attention switching back and forth between the Vault in front of him and the crowd behind him. Bill, still standing at the podium, said, "Bane, you still have ten minutes left of your allotted time."

Bane shook his head sharply, his long black hair flying wildly about him, and instead turned toward the front of the platform. He jumped off the platform, landing just in front of the barrier lines, and shouted, "Out of my way!" to the crowd, which quickly parted to allow him through. Harry and the others turned to watch as Bane galloped away up Diagon Alley, around the curve and out of sight.

"What happened?" Harry asked aloud. "Why did he run away?"

"The arrow," Deirdre said, a hand covering her mouth. She spoke so softly Harry barely heard her. "An arrow shot into a centaur's hindquarters is a grave insult, implying cowardice. Bane was humiliated." She turned away from Harry.

The crowd slowly reformed in front of the Vault as Bill, looking down the street where Bane had run, said, "It looks like Bane has given up the balance of his time, folks.

"Alright, let's bring out our next contestant. Ah, I see that the next ones are a team of two house-elves. Stanee and Ollie, are you ready, please?"

With two loud cracks, a pair of house-elves appeared on the platform next to Bill. Stanee, a thin house elf with a long face and seemingly permanent smile, and Ollie, a more rotund house elf, both bowed very low before Bill and after both searching though the assortment of pillowcases, towels and dishcloths draped about them, produced a pair of tokens, both of which were dropped into the hourglass timer, beginning their 30-minute allotment of time.

Harry turned to Deirdre; he wanted to hear more about the arrow and why it was such an insult, but she was no longer at Jon's side. "Where did Deirdre go?" he asked Jon.

Jon shook his head. He was chuckling at the two house-elves, who were arguing, somewhat comically, about how to go about opening the Vault. "She said something about going to freshen up," he said distractedly to Harry.

Harry scanned the edges of the crowd. He didn't see her anywhere nearby; she must've gone inside the Bank, the nearest building. However, as he looked toward the rear of the crowd, beyond its edges he saw Deirdre walking off in the direction Bane had left in, toward the exit of Diagon Alley. Was Deirdre following Bane somewhere, perhaps? For what purpose?

Suddenly, Harry wondered, why was Bane going in that direction? Surely he couldn't simply wander out into the Leaky Cauldron and Charing Cross Road! He shot a quick glance toward Ron and Hermione but they were arguing about something to do with the house-elves; Harry sincerely hoped it wasn't about S.P.E.W. Hermione's society for elf protection had mostly been a disaster. Not wanting their argument to distract him from finding out what Deirdre was up to, Harry moved silently away from them in the direction Deirdre was going.

Once free from the crowd, Harry passed several shops before finding a tiny alley between two buildings, then slipped into it, and drawing his Invisibility Cloak from beneath his robe and putting it own. He resumed following Deirdre, now looking along both sides for any sign of her, or Bane.

The streets were nearly clear; only a few people were wandering in and out of shops. Harry had passed Flourish and Blotts and was nearly to Quality Quidditch Supplies when movement in the window of Eeylops Owl Emporium caught his eye. Moving to the window, he peered inside. There, in the dim light of the shop, he managed to make out the tall, imposing figure of Bane, who was able to stand fully erect only because of the tall ceiling of the shop, looking down expressionlessly at Deirdre, who was staring back at him, seemingly unafraid. They seemed to be conversing, but Harry could not quite hear what they were saying through the thick glass.

Harry reached for the door of the shop, but hesitated. A door opening for no reason would look quite suspicious to the centaur, he knew. Harry suddenly put a hand into his robe pocket. If only –

He was in luck! His fingers closed on a small roll of string he knew was an Extendable Ear. He quickly pulled it out unraveled it, then stuck one end in his ear, and whispered "Go!" to the other. The end shot out under his Cloak and under the door of the shop.

"– does indeed surprise me," Bane was saying, folding his arms across his chest. "I did not think any human would dare approach me without a wand in their hand."

"There are quite a few things humans will dare, when they need to," Deirdre retorted. She seemed quite fearless in his presence; there was nothing like her usual shyness evident in her demeanor or attitude.

"So I have seen, these last few years," Bane nodded. Harry frowned. Bane was acting nothing like the angry, mistrustful centaur Harry had witnessed in his fifth year, like one of the group who had repudiated Firenze for agreeing to work with humans when Sibyll Trelawney was sacked by Dolores Umbridge that year. "How is your father doing?"

Deirdre folded her arms across her chest, much in the way Bane had. "I didn't come here to discuss my father with you, Bane. Why did you break the Vows and interfere with human affairs?"

Bane raised an eyebrow at her. "Surely you know I was not the first to do so. Firenze left our herd to teach our ways to outsiders. Or perhaps you hadn't noticed the centaur wandering the halls of the castle."

Deirdre ignored the sarcasm. "I've got Professor Trelawney for Divination class," she said coldly.

"Indeed," Bane said, pawing the floor thoughtfully. "Are you finding her instruction educational?" Harry thought his tone sounded almost mocking.

"I've found her to have some interesting insights into the nature of the human mind and its predilection for seeing what it desires to see rather than interpreting the signs objectively."

"Yes, that is a difficult task for many of you humans," Bane said condescendingly.

"You never answered my question," Deirdre pointed out.

"There is no answer," Bane said dismissively. "The Vow was already broken. What I've done here today was not done for humankind, but for our kind, centaurs. When the Dark Lord succeeds in his quest, as foretold in the heavens, he will respect our attempt to possess the Vault, just as his own operatives have attempted to do as well."

"There have been agents of the Dark Lord at these Tournaments?" Deirdre asked, sounding startled.

Harry, of course, could have told her that as well. Trevor Nott was very likely been a Death Eater, just like his brother, Theodore Nott's father, was. There were other names, familiar from the lists of Death Eaters he'd heard of in the past, in the list of contestants from previous rounds. Was it possible that Deirdre, isolated in a small village, had had no real clue about the scope of Voldemort's effect on the Wizarding world before she'd arrived at Hogwarts?

"Many diverse interests have so far attempted to possess the contents of the Gringotts Vault," Bane said. "The Dark Lord's agents among them. But the contents themselves will ultimately have no effect upon the outcome of this war of the Wizarding world. The contestants themselves, however, will."

Bane walked over to the far wall of the emporium, where there was a large fireplace. Taking a handful of Floo powder from a bowl atop the mantle, he threw it into the embers, which leapt up into swirling green flames. "I must cut short our conversation – it is time for me to leave. Farewell, Deirdre Recaunt." He stepped into the flames. Harry strained to hear him call out his destination, but he heard nothing as Bane's body began rapidly rotating and he vanished.

Deirdre sighed, looking at the fireplace where Bane had disappeared, then turned to the door. Harry hastily withdrew the Extendable Ear and stepped quietly out of the way as she walked past him back toward Gringotts. Harry followed her at some distance, stopping only to duck into the same narrow alleyway where he'd put on his Invisibility Cloak, and removed it before unobtrusively rejoining the group a few moments after she did.

The two house-elves, Stannie and Ollie, had just ended their attempt to open the Vault by managing to knock each other out before ever actually trying to unlock it. Bill informed the crowd that the Tournament was being suspended until after the beginning of the year. With that, the eighth Round of the Vault Tournament drew to a close. Bill walked over to the two unconscious house-elves and, pointing his wand at them, revived both them with "Rennervate!" After a moment, the two sat up groggily.

"Is it opening?" Stannie said, blinking unfocusedly at the Vault.

"No, it's not opening," Bill said apologetically. "And you're out of time."

"A fine mess this is," Ollie snapped at Stannie, whose ears drooped and great round eyes scrunched up unhappily as he began to whimper under Ollie's resentful glare.

Harry, walking toward the Leaky Cauldron with the others, caught a snippet of conversation between Jon and Deirdre, who were trailing behind them.

"Did you talk to him?" Harry heard Jon ask, very quietly. He concentrated, straining to hear more.

"He had nothing to tell me," she whispered in reply, "except his usual equivocations about looking out for centaurkind."

"Has he tried to talk to Firenze?"

"I doubt if either of them would tell me," Deirdre muttered. "They both are convinced they are right."

Right about what? Harry wondered. What could Bane, and Firenze, it seemed, be up to that would involve someone like Deirdre Recaunt? And how could an outsider, an American like Jon, have become involved? Harry pondered these questions long after they'd returned to Hogwarts and he'd placed the two phials of Polyjuice Potion securely in his trunk. Both Jon and Deirdre would bear watching as well, he decided. Especially if Bane was trying to do something to impress Voldemort; that alone worried Harry.

Bane's other pronouncement, that Voldemort would "succeed in his quest," gave Harry serious pause. Voldemort's efforts for the past two years, since his return, had been focused on destroying Harry. Now, if Bane was correct, it would mean that he would ultimately fail in his attempt to destroy Voldemort and his Horcruxes. But Dumbledore had been so sure! And Harry, trusting in Dumbledore, wasn't about to give up without a fight.