Incorruptible
Chapter 5
Gods and Demons
Harry felt Dumbledore entering his mind, the sensation strengthened by his new ability and Dumbledore's wanded intrusion. The memories rushed to the surface and he saw it all.
They were at the zoo for the first time in Harry's life and he was somewhat happy, because the snake cared to talk to him. And then he was elated when the glass vanished, sending Dudley into the exhibit with the snakes. But Vernon turned purple with anger when they got into the car, sending a jolt of fear into the pit of his stomach.
Dumbledore chased the fear into another memory, and suddenly Harry was facing a rather large and garishly dressed woman who he was drinking tea with. For a moment he was afraid that he went too far and she had discovered his plans, but he squashed those feelings and watched the house elf carry away bejeweled golden cup and his birthright, a golden locket with emeralds forming a curvy S shape…
For a moment, Dumbledore's attack faltered and then he located the wizard through his memories and emotions and sought to understand and perceive the man's essence but Dumbledore was too crafty and used the memories to protect himself.
The pressure started once more and Dumbledore wove a cloak of memories around his presence, selecting and discarding memories with swiftness, preventing Harry from countering the attack. So, Harry willed himself to Perceive, struggling against the whirlwind of emotions and images and past experiences. The colors and sights and sounds were almost too much, but then he located Dumbledore and felt and understood what the next target was.
Dumbledore intended to view Harry's experience in the chamber of secrets but Harry arrived at the memory first and without knowing what he was doing, fabricated the memory, adding what he thought was the antithesis of Dumbledore's soul. The former headmaster arrived at the memory a mere moment later and Harry began his counter.
It was damp, cold, and dark in the chamber of secrets. The almost corporal body of Tom Riddle stood above Ginny Weasley's listless body, waiting for his return to the world.
"…There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half bloods, orphans, raised by muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike…"
Harry looked up at Tom Riddle, speaking his next words very quietly.
"Did they come to you? The snakes, that is. I can make them hurt people, you know."
Riddle dropped the raised wand, now interested by Harry's story.
"Did you ever think that you were perhaps, more than just a wizard, Harry Potter? That you were special beyond all the other ones?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond and Dumbledore pressed himself further into the memory, verifying its truthfulness.
The moment Dumbledore pressed his mind into the memory, looking for truth, Harry fine tuned the fabricated experience to make it feel more opposite of Dumbledore's essence and then collapsed the memory on Dumbledore's mind. Then with a great deal of hope and will, he pushed Dumbledore out of his mind, similar to the Scouring Charm he casted some time ago while reversing the flow of Dumbledore's magic and soul.
Abruptly, he found himself on his back and winced as the light piercing through the canopy almost blinded his vision. Quickly shaking off his disorientation, both physical and mental, he leapt to his feet and snatched his wand off the ground.
Dumbledore was already waving his wand and began to intone, a blue shield could almost be seen forming.
"Prote…" the former headmaster formed his magic and was in the process of protecting himself but Harry was ready.
"Expelliarmus," he cried, and the spell rocketed from his wand with purpose, strength, and the antithesis of Dumbledore's magic.
The spell struck with great force and caused many cracks to form along the shield, giving it a rather broken look. But despite it all, the shield held strong and looked as if it would take quite a few more spells to penetrate it. The clearing was now silent save for Harry's panting breaths. Until now, he had no idea how tired he was, having exerted himself both physically and mentally.
"Bravo, Harry. That was quite marvelous. Though I must ask, how did you know to fabricate your memory?"
With a sweep of his wand, he summoned a large rock to his feet and sat on it before answering Dumbledore's question. Instead of imitating Harry, the old wizard Transfigured a chair out of nothing but the air and sat upon it.
"To tell you the truth, I don't know. It just seemed right at the time," he grinned sheepishly at the headmaster.
"Well, I must say it was a quite a fine bit of magical ability that you have displayed today, Harry. I do believe that was a pass and if I were to grade it, it would be nothing less than an Outstanding."
The former headmaster looked pensive for a moment, twisting his beard between his fingers. Then he waved his wand and branches of all sizes zoomed through the air, hard ones forming the frame while the springy, flexible twigs twisted around the frame, adding thickness and volume to the table. With one swift wave of his wand, Dumbledore had Summoned and Transfigured the raw wood into a table which looked quite stately. Plates, food, and utensils from the tent landed softly in front of them, causing Harry's stomach to growl with hunger.
"I trust you are quite hungry?"
"Absolutely famished, sir. I didn't realize how hungry I was until now."
He took a swig of the glass of water which came from the springs around him, drinking like a man who had been stuck in the desert. Harry did not think water could be ambrosia, but considering what Dumbledore thought this place was, it could have very well been the drink of the gods, or God in this case.
"Then you shall eat and I will tell you of the tale of the wizard who feared death so much that he pushed the boundaries of magic far beyond another other wizard. Do remind me to show you the memories later for they hold great significance."
"Memories, sir," asked Harry, food falling out of his mouth due to his gluttonous behavior. He hastily wiped his mouth with a napkin, hoping not to offend his mentor.
"Oh my, one should finish chewing all their food before responding, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore gave him a look of reproach. As serious as Dumbledore looked, Harry knew it was the man's way of having a bit of fun.
"But yes, in my collection of knowledge, almost none are as important as the memories pertaining to Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tell me, if the Killing Curse targeted one's soul, what could you do protect it?"
Despite scolding Harry for talking with his mouth full, Dumbledore asked this question right as he started stuffing his mouth again. The old man chose to sip at his drink and nibble a bit of his food while waiting for Harry to respond.
"Well if you can't shield against it then maybe you could…" he trailed off as images of his third year came to his mind, the Dementors with their horrid nature…
"Professor Dumbledore, if a Dementor were to suck out someone's soul, what would happen to it?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands together, forming a tent with them.
"No one truly knows the answer to that question. But there has never been a recorded case of a Dementor kissed person leaving behind a part of themselves as a ghost or otherwise. However, if their body should survive the process and had no previous damage, it would simply exist as a shell, existing yet not truly living."
Harry thought long and hard, feeling as if the answer was within his grasp.
"If the person's body can live without the soul," he trailed off as the answer came to him. During their run in with the Dementors, he could have sworn he saw Sirius' soul begin to leave his body.
"Maybe one can leave a part of it in the body, so that they wouldn't be a mindless husk. And the other part, they can leave somewhere else so that the Killing Curse can't touch it! Only problem…would it, the part that's been cursed, would it survive?"
Harry felt as if it was a stupid question, having realized the answer to the question as soon as he asked it.
"A Horcrux," Harry began, swallowing his excitement.
"It's something that Voldemort has done isn't it? He's placed his soul into something else for safe keeping. Like the," Harry trailed off with his response, thinking of the whole Chamber of Secrets incident, how a memory almost gained form…
"Diary, which is precisely what he did," Dumbledore appeared quite grave, magnifying the wrinkles on his face, making him look much older and much more intense.
"As you have surmised, a Horcrux is an object in which a wizard has chosen to conceal a part of their soul, anchoring it into the mortal world, guaranteeing that if their body should come to harm, they would not pass onto the beyond."
"How does one make a Horcrux, Professor Dumbledore? Why doesn't every wizard have one if it allows them to defeat death, to end a pointless life spent in existence only to head into nonexistence at the end?"
The words rose unwittingly from deep inside of him, making him feel more passionate as he spoke about beating death. It was strange Harry thought, he had never thought about this before nor did he have strong ideas about the subject.
"I mean, what's the point if we don't live to see our accomplishments and darkness will surround us for eternity, never to be aware again? Why shouldn't every wizard and witch strive to make a Horcrux, ensuring that death will never claim them and none will ever have to suffer the loss of a loved one?"
Alarmed by every word that Harry spoke, Dumbledore placed his wand on the table, ready to use it if necessary. He fixed Harry with such a piercing stare that it made him feel as if he were a bug under a microscope.
"Are you sure you mind is secure, Mr. Potter? Though it was only recently that I have gotten to understand the man beneath the lightning bolt scar, I've never known you to fear death or seek immortality."
The statement startled Harry, unsure of where these ideas came from. He assessed his mind and found that his defense had not been penetrated.
"Absolutely, Professor. I'm sorry, I don't know where that outburst came from."
Dumbledore held him under the scrutinizing gaze for a moment longer and then relaxed yet his wand remained between them, ready to be used at a moment's notice.
"Sometimes I wonder just how much the mark of his memories has left on your mind and why this place deemed it was necessary for you to heal with those memories intact. It is my hope that it is a blessing in disguise but that I feel is not for discussion at this time and I fear I have digressed. The reason why many wizards do not attempt such magic is because it is a violation of nature itself. A Horcrux requires a damaged soul, one torn by the act of cold, premeditated murder. The ritual to remove that portion of the soul is so vile that I hesitate to let you read it."
Harry opened his mouth to respond but abruptly stopped as flashes of images, far too quick to process, rocketed through his mind. It was incomprehensible but for one moment, he felt the food threaten to leave his stomach. Thankfully he squashed the feeling down and managed not to hurl all over his food.
"Harry, are you alright? What did you see?"
Dumbledore closed the gap between them and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with concern. Harry washed down the bile with a glass of water before answering.
"I'm fine, Professor. Thank you. It was too fast for me to make out but I felt something, something revolting and wrong."
What was strangest was that he felt his pants become tighter as arousal rushed into his mind, though he would not tell Dumbledore that part. Harry waved off Dumbledore's concern and the man returned to his seat, worry remained on his face but he deemed it was safe to continue.
"It is my belief that you were able to perceive what it meant to have torn your soul and to turn it into a Horcrux, which by your reaction, confirms my theory. Now do you see why no sane person would attempt such an act of vile mutilation?"
"Yeah, I think I understand now. I think I know why you said it was unnatural."
"You see, Harry, many scholars think that the act of tearing your soul bars you from the afterlife, only allowing one to exist in a lesser form in purgatory. Furthermore, I suspect one would be unable to find Truth, to Perceive and know the nature and secrets of things. While one would gain a temporary escape from death, they would be faced with a never ending lack understanding of the universe, magic, and above all, themselves."
Harry caught the word temporary and his mind went on overdrive, thoughts racing through his head.
"Professor Dumbledore, did you say temporary?"
"As you have discovered yourself, a Horcrux is not invulnerable to damage. Though in Voldemort's case, I fear the protections surrounding his other ones will be quite formidable."
Harry's mind froze, realizing that he had only destroyed one Horcrux. He bit his lip, wondering just how many Horcruxes Voldemort created.
"Sir, you said there were others? What would that do to a person, to make more than one?"
"Besides an amplification of the limitations which we talked about, you've seen what Tom Riddle has become. One cannot see any remains of the handsome man that left Hogwarts, thankfully gifted by his father's good looks. What is left is a monster, both literally and figuratively. But Voldemort stands in uncharted waters, he…"
"Have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality," he echoed what Voldemort told him in the cemetery, understand what the terrible wizard meant.
"But, Professor, he's the only one who has done this before, isn't he? He's the only wizard, ever, to have created more than one."
Dumbledore nodded in agreement to Harry's train of thought, his eyes lightened and he looked less grim for a brief moment but it was gone as he discussed his theory.
"Many wizards fear splitting their soul more than once, thinking it would make them too unstable, but…"
Harry chose to interrupt Dumbledore in the middle of his answer.
"How do you mean by unstable, sir?"
Dumbledore retreated in his head for a moment, thinking about his numerous theories but even his immense knowledge provided no help here.
"There is no way to know for certain when using such unnatural magic. Some wizards have died and left themselves as a ghost and unlike benign ghosts such as the ones at Hogwarts, these are permanently bound to the earth, forced to never have peace. It is their hell, their punishment. Others have Apparated, stating that they plan to arrive at a certain destination, only to have never existed again. Where they have vanished to, no one knows."
"Is it like the Vanishing Spell then? Where the Vanished item goes into nonbeing, which is everything."
"It is a likely theory, one which some scholars have agreed with. To mutilate yourself in such a fashion, one risks the stability of their existence. Very good, Harry," Dumbledore approved once more but did not have a look of surprise on his face since he expected his student to have worked very hard under his tutelage.
"Seven," Harry breathed out with shock, the answer suddenly leaping to the forefront of his mind, sure of its exactness.
Excited by the discovery, he almost could not hear through the blood rushing through his ears. The waterfall, no waterrise, normally loud and relaxing, almost could not be heard through his reduced sense of hearing. Dumbledore looked at him with wonder, muttering under his breath for a moment.
"The stable yet unstable…perhaps wholly joined, and this is why…surely it could be an advantage. Slughorn must be consulted. Forgive me, Harry, it is only the mutterings of an old man thinking aloud. Numerology? I had no idea you that you've broaden your knowledge to such things."
Unnaturally attracted to the book perched in the most inconspicuous spot on the common room bookshelf, he took it and perused it during his free time. It was a book that contained writings from ancient wizards, from a time when science, magic, and religion were one and for that reason, even muggles were included. He pictured one particular muggle of interest and recited the line that was branded into his head.
"Number is the ruler of forms and ideas and the cause of gods and demons."
For a moment, Dumbledore looked so proud that Harry could not help but feel very pleased with his studies. The man had woken something wonderful inside of him and now, looking at the weathered yet satisfied face, he knew he could not let Dumbledore down. To do so would be to insult the man and his teachings.
"Precisely, Harry. You've made great strides in the last month and I if were headmaster still, I would have no other option but to award points to Gryffindor. That aside, it is likely that Voldemort stumbled upon this book during his readings as you yourself have and in doing so, has perverted the ideas of Pythagoras in order to turn himself into a god. But in destroying himself in this abominable way, he has presented us with his greatest weakness. Do you see what it is?"
Once again, his readings provided him with the answer. He grinned for a moment, wondering if this was what went through Hermione's mind. But as the thought of her crossed his mind, he realized how much he missed his friends and wondered what they were going through. Living with Dumbledore was great but he yearned to be back in England, to see other people. Realizing that Dumbledore was staring at him with learned patience, he hastily replied with the answer.
"He's gained stability by making seven but at the same time he's destroyed his senses. They are warped and in separating his soul into seven states," Harry's response stalled, unsure of where he was going with his train of thought.
Dumbledore spoke and as always, filled the gap in his knowledge.
"Voldemort has created seven states of matter and has annihilated the unity of soul thus preventing him from being able to Perceive."
"But Voldemort is still very powerful. He has decades of magic on me and he is more driven," Harry said with frustration, his fists clenched.
"Don't you see, Harry," Dumbledore began, his eyes flashing with emotion.
"You haven't limited yourself to power, knowledge and truth and in doing so you have become quite adaptable, able to survive against very harsh odds. Voldemort on the other hand will have not an inkling of what to expect from you and with this ability to adjust, to work with instinct and feel, he will meet an opponent who will always defy him, never bowing to his whims, and one day," Dumbledore paused for a moment, looking so determined and convinced that when he spoke once more, Harry did not think that Dumbledore could be wrong.
"One day, you shall best him for he has already lost his war against death. It is coming and it will be you, a Master of his death."
"Sir," Harry swallowed the lump that rose in his throat, caused by Dumbledore's conviction in himself. A number of emotions went through him, too quickly to identify. "Whatever happens, I won't let you down."
"So long as you don't let yourself down, I feel that my belief is well placed," Dumbledore gave him a wink of reassurance and then clapped his hands together. "Now that we are well fed and full of knowledge, let us retreat to the tent where I will show you the memories of our enemy, then we shall have one last drill and at nightfall, we will make our way back to England."
Once again, Dumbledore filled his head with new knowledge, ensuring that he would be well equipped to face Voldemort. The Prophecy was revealed to him, making him feel disappointed by the result. There was no weapon other than the knowledge of the prophecy itself, though he was starting to understand just how powerful knowledge can be. They had another discussion during their drill, speculating about what items Voldemort may have turned into Horcruxes and the people who contained the knowledge to positively identify those Horcruxes. The talk of making headway into Voldemort's defeat excited him. So much so, that when he was supposed to shield against Dumbledore's unknown spell, he faltered and it left a lasting mark on his left shoulder.
Even now the effects were just beginning to reverse, his shoulder grinding and clicking with every movement like that of a much, much older person. Before long, they had one last dinner and then disbanded their tent, removing any trace of their existence. So they stood in the clearing and Harry looked to Dumbledore for instruction, his palms sweating from anxiousness.
"How do we leave from here, Professor?"
"We arrived here by air through which we found ourselves in the medium of water. How then, would you expect us to leave, Harry," asked Dumbledore, testing Harry's understanding of magic.
"We leave through water then and arrive in the air?" A month ago it would have been absurd to suggest such a thing but Harry knew otherwise now.
"Exactly, we will need to slow ourselves down once we cross back over. If you should panic, do not hesitate to use incantations instead. But try to feel it, Harry and counter it. Now, we make our way to the water."
Dumbledore had made it sound as if the water was a quite a distance away but in reality, they walked only thirty paces before they reached their destination. Harry peered around him, taking in the sights of the foliage and numerous plants and the sounds of the trees which seemed almost alive. It would be sad to leave here but he was ready for world again, eager to face its trials.
"What would you propose we do now, Harry," asked the old wizard, placing the tip of his shoe into the water.
"We swim to the very bottom, Professor. There we will find ourselves at the highest part of the sky," replied Harry, convicted in his answer.
"Very good. In that case, I propose that you should venture ahead of me and I will watch your back."
"My back? Will we be attacked, Professor," Harry asked with alarm.
"It is unlikely unless Severus has defected and has sold us out to Voldemort which I find unlikely. That said, it would be unlikely for them to find our location but it is always better to be prepared. After you, Harry."
Dumbledore made a motion with his hand and Harry complied, diving into the water. Despite the cooling temperature and setting sun, the water was comfortable and refreshing like that of swim on a spring morning. He swam deeper and deeper, taking care not to inhale and soon his lungs were on fire and he knew that he would not have long before he passed out. But he noticed that he could not see in front of him anymore and with one last stroke, the water disappeared around him.
Harry burst into the air, the sudden pressure change making his ears throb with pain. The unexpected acceleration caused by the pull of gravity created a nasty lurch at his navel, almost causing him to vomit midair. Meanwhile, the wind whistled and caused his eyes to streak with tears. To make things worse, the sheer amount of force directed against his body almost made him lose his wand.
Suddenly a flash of images went through his head, too quickly for him to identify except for one scene. He was at the top of the Astronomy tower, the stars twinkling in the night sky above him and for one minute moment, his feet left the ground unaided by a broom. Abruptly, the sensation of familiarity entered him and without knowing what he was doing, waved his hand, sending an unusual combination of magic through the wand. His rapid descent towards the ground slowed to a more manageable pace and then he realized that his throat was sore and that he had been screaming for quite a while. Then Dumbledore sailed next to him, grabbed his arm and twisted in midair, causing blackness to surround them.
Harry could feel his body dematerializing, becoming almost nothingness except for his mind, his perception. And in that sensation was tightness around what used to be his chest and darkness. While the tightness was discomforting, it was nothing compared to the nonexistence that surround him. What frightened him the most was the fact that he could feel something slithering through the darkness, alien and unnatural. Then it was over. Life exploded around them as they appeared close to the base of the mountain, overlooking the valley and town on the other side.
"Professor Dumbledore, did you feel it," Harry asked, trying to calm down his racing heart.
"I did feel it," the old man responded, his voice quiet. "I've felt it every time I've Apparated, since the beginning of my lessons during my youth. They thought I was strange, unusual, very unlike them and now, you are like me Harry."
"They couldn't perceive it, couldn't they? They don't understand the truth about Apparation."
"No, Harry they don't understand at all. I've had a theory for quite some time and many scholars feel it is so absurd that to repeat it at my advanced age would lend credence to my senility."
"That every time we Apparate, we travel to the edge of the universe. It's where the Vanished items go, into nonexistence which is everything around our universe," Harry asked, the answer making perfect sense in his head.
"Almost, Harry, you are so very close to the truth though you are correct regarding Vanishing magic. Rather than travel to the edge, we are in fact, beyond that edge and are in the beginnings of the membranous boundary between this universe and the next."
"You said we were in the beginnings, what happens if we cross into it?"
"As far as I know, you can't. Should a wizard from this sided discover a way to cross, I presume that the forms which exist in the membrane would attack, preventing one from making it through."
A thought about what Dumbledore said, crossed his mind. Since they were just standing and looking at the town below them, it couldn't hurt to satisfy his curiosity.
"Professor, earlier you said that those wizards who split their soul, when Apparating would never return. Did they slip through?"
Dumbledore, smiled and turned to his pupil, excited by the young man's change.
"A likely conjecture and one that I hoped you would arrive at. Fear not, Harry we will make you a wizard yet," then Dumbledore started to lecture once again. "I surmise that the lack of unity of their soul prevents them from being bound as tightly to this universe. Make no mistake, they are bound to their Horcrux which exists in this universe but the rest of their soul, I cannot say. If this postulate were to hold true, then it must mean that because they are not bound so tightly, it is quite possible they managed to pierce through the barrier and ended defeated by the things in the in between. The only exception to this rule is Voldemort who gains an advantage by making six atrocities, one staying within himself."
"Sir, is it possible that Voldemort can cross through," the thought occurred to him but something seemed wrong about it.
"No, it is unlikely. In creating seven fragments, Voldemort has created a contradiction in that he gains greater freedom, able to travel closer into the edge yet at the same time, is more bound than his predecessors who have attempted this magic. Additionally, I believe that the use of your blood provides him with an even greater protection from instability, so that when we do destroy his Horcruxes, he will not face the same fate of those who have erred as well."
"Professor, what do you think those forms are," Harry asked hesitantly.
Dumbledore turned to him and spoke before raising his arm.
"The good and evil that can be found in men's hearts. They guard against men's aspiration to discover truth."
When Dumbledore finished speaking, he made a motion with his fingers and abruptly, a ball of flame exploded in front of them, causing Harry to stumble back with surprise. Fawkes returned to them, an unopened envelope clutched in his beak. Dumbledore took the piece of correspondence, glanced at it briefly before it burst into flame and a look of cold determination entered the man's face.
"We must return to England immediately. Despite the precautions, Voldemort has made his first move against the Order of the Phoenix. He has taken Nymphadora Tonks."
Without warning, Dumbledore seized his arm and Fawkes' talons. Fire surrounded them and when it cleared, there was no trace that they were ever in Switzerland.