WOW! THANK YOU, REVIEWERS! I had many people triumphantly step up to the plate and deliver some awesome reviews. I loved them! Please keep up the reviewing, everyone! You have no idea how much it means to me- they brighten my day considerably and even give me new chapter ideas! (Like this one- this chapter wasn't planned but the idea came to me and I thought it'd be really exciting! Much better than what I had originally planned!).

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Disclaimer: (on my knees) Please, please, please, please can you at least lend me the rights to Harry Potter? (Warner Bros. shakes their heads). Nope, not even begging works! Oh well. Was worth a try.

It Ends Now

Part 14: "Retrieval"

Albus Dumbledore sighed, dropping his quill and rubbing his eyes with wizened fingers. For once, he was finding reviewing Ministry papers tedious and irksome. It wasn't the content that agitated him, but his own mind. For some reason, an unsettled, almost paranoia-like feeling hovered over him, like a dismal curtain. There was an omniscent, bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something were very wrong. But Dumbledore assumed there was no need to get flustered, and dismissed it, trying to ignore the irritating sensation that was disrupting his work. Another five minutes passed and the feeling escalateduntil he was completely unable to concentrate.

A glance at the clock informed the Headmaster that it was dinnertime. Pushing the anxiety to the back of his head, Dumbledore stood and stretched his back, shuffling up his papers into a semblance of order. 'I must be going senile,' the old man thought amusedly, trying to calm his edgy nerves. He prepared to leave his office, but was only halfway towards the door when the Protering double strung round his neck burned red-hot. It meant that Harry had squeezed it, and Dumbledore knew the boy would not joke around if nothing were wrong...he must be in trouble!

Worry, protectiveness, and anxiety at what he would find flooded Dumbledore at once, eating away at him. The feelings only heightened the old man's resolve to get to Harry at once. He flung out his arm.

"Fawkes!" The magnificent, red pheonix that was his magical pet flew gracefully from his perching place, sweeping over to his master with such dexterity not found in common, Muggle birds. It hovered above Dumbledore's open hand, outstretched wings flapping steadily and smoothly as the pheonix dropped one of its tail feathers. Dumbledore caught it the moment the feather brushed against his palm, clasping it tightly. There was a tumultous flash of fire that sprung up from the ground and swirled up around the Headmaster, who didn't even flinch. A nanosecond later, there was a loud BANG and the man was gone.

Harry fell into the blackness just as Dumbledore appeared in a piercing flash of unburning, transporting flames.

"Harry! Stay alert!" the Headmaster exclaimed in warning futilely, unknowing of the events having took place previously. But his heeds were paid no mind as Harry drifted unhearingly into inky darkness, disrupted only by the memories following him and bringing him into a broken unconsciousness.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" the Headmaster roared, sweeping his wand in an arch. A humungous, pearl-white and transparent pheonix made its way out of his long wand. The bird squawked, almost three times the size of Fawkes and unleashing powerful bursts of energy. It zoomed at all the dementors, grazing each with its sharp talons and making all flee into the night. The one holding Harry captive released him, lips only millimeters from Harry's slightly parted mouth. The Death Bringer would have completed the Kiss were it not for the pheonix striking it full across the face and forcing the dementor's unearthly face away from Harry. It too disappeared in a swish of robes. Harry fell back, landing spread-eagle on the still unconscious Hagrid.

The night warmed, and the starry night sky became visible above the treetops, where before it had been a void of black nothingness. The moon appeared, shining cascades of light over the three. Dumbledore ran at his charge and grounds caretaker, concern filling the spot where fear had vacated when he had first arrived at the scene of chaos.

First, the old man gently pulled Harry off Hagrid. The boy had turned a pallid, milky-white cream color, set off by the illumination of the moon's light on his immobile face. Hagrid appeared the same, but his features were regaining color and his trembling had ceased. At the moment, Dumbledore was more frightened for Harry's sake than Hagrid's. Giants were tough, and could withstand attacks much easier than humans. They tended to have bounce-back recoveries, and Hagrid, being a half-giant, displayed this quality. Last year, he'd held firm against multiple Stunning Charms. One dementor attack was also minimal compared to one initiated by thirty or so.

Hagrid stirred, eyes opening. Immediately, he spotted the Headmaster, currently cradling Harry, who'd shown no change.

"Sir? What's wrong with Harry?" Hagrid croaked, sitting up. He put a large hand to his temple. "Last I remember's a dementor comin' at me. Musta fainted after that."

"Truthfully, Hagrid, I'm not too sure either. Firstly, we have to bring Harry back up to the school, then just go from there. Once he wakes up, I'm sure all will be revealed," Dumbledore reassured. He levered himself off the ground, bringing Harry up with him cautiously, careful not to joltthe boyaround too much.

"I'll take 'im, sir. Least I can dofer you an' Harry," Hagrid said, offering out his arms with softened eyes in love of his first real friend. Dumbledore nodded gratefully- he was no longer a young man, and despite the fact that he wielded unseen strength and power, the old man highly doubted he'd be able to carry Harry all the way up to the school. He could for a little while, but Harry wasn't exactly weightless either, even though he was skinny and a tad small for his age. Besides, Dumbledore reckoned he shouldn't disregard his wand- many things lurked within the Forest's depths, and if need arose, he'd need it. Magicking Harry onto a stretcher was out of the question; that also required a wand and concentration to float him all the way up to the school (unbeknownst to Harry at the time, he'd travelled quite a ways into the Forest)- the two things Dumbledore would need when faced with an attack.

Hagrid gathered the boy into his arms. Harry twitched, but his eyes never opened. Headmaster and teacher headed up to the school precariously, on the alert for centaurs, werewolves, and the like. It was lucky Hagrid was there, for he knew the Forest like the back of his hand. Dumbledore's alight wand tip led the way.

The two reached the Hospital Wing and were met by a frantic, concerned Madam Promfrey, mouth agape at the sight of her returning patient. She saw that boy more than any other student, and unlike the others, it was always for reasons beyond Harry's cause. Sure, she pressed rest, but it was only for his own good, despite her knowledge that he would of course want to be running around or flying his broom on the Quidditch Pitch... just like his father. The matron felt pity for the fragile child, motherly instincts kicking in whenever he was brought into her care and graced the Hospital Wing. This time, Harry entered looking like he'd literally been pulled from the grave, given his complexion. That was always the nurse's fear- that one day, they would be putting him into the grave, laid in a coffin. She knew one could only last for so long against Lord Voldemort, and luck and skill were useful but didn't last forever. Many aurors had proved this. For now, the only thing she could do was heal him.

"Harry! Headmaster, what's happened?" the matron questioned, feeling Harry's pulse. It was very faint, and this worried the nurse.

"I'm not entirely sure. There seems to have been a dementor attack, and it is my belief Harry went after them to save Hagrid," Dumbledore opined slowly, considering the facts he'd been given and piecing them together prodigiously. The man's brain was a thing to behold, as was his legendary vast knowledge. He flicked his wand and magicked Harry from Hagrid's protective hold, transporting him onto a bed that seemed to be reserved for him, he occupied it so much.

"Save Hagrid?" Madam Promfrey repeated, and hand resting upon Harry's forehead to take his temperature. Hagrid nodded, wearily sinking into a chair beside the bed as he too put together the information.

"He shouldn't a done that fer me..."

"Hagrid, you know Harry cares deeply for those he loves. Enough to place his own life before theirs'... it cannot be helped," Dumbledore said simply and proudly. "The boy has a pure, loving heart, a virtue uncommon in children with his past experiences. We are blessed with such an amazing boy." A silence followed this, as if those present were thinking over what had been said. Madam Promfrey was the first to break the reverie.

"Anyways Hagrid, I must insist I check over you as well. It seems to be that Harry is fine, just exhausted and weak. I'm going to do a thorough inspection of the child in a moment, but he seems in no immediate danger. I assume you were attacked by the dementors?"

Hagrid nodded. "I guess. I sorta blanked out when the firs' dementor came at me." Promfrey examined Hagrid too, then waved her wand and a block of chocolate appeared. She pushed it into the giant's hand.

"Eat. You're perfectly fine, just tired," she informed. Hagrid chewed the chocolate slowly, finishing it with a swallow. The sweet filled him with a warmth, filling up the chill left by the dementors. The giant suddenly felt very sleepy- better, but sleepy. The Care of Magical Creatures teacher stood.

"I think I'll tuck in then, if Harry's OK. I'm gonna come visit the lad if 'e wakes up though." Then Hagrid parted, ready for a longnap. Dumbledore turned to Promfrey, who was fussing over the pillows and making them"just right".

"I must let the teachers and Harry's friends know what has happened. Poppy, inform me of any change in Harry," the Headmaster requested, then swept out of the ward.

oOo

Professor Dumbledore sighed, patience just as strong as ever. "I'm sorry children, but for the last time, I cannot allow you to see Harry at the present moment. I assure you that you will be able to visit him when he awakes, but for now, Mr. Potter needs his rest." The statement was met with scowls by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who had been fruitlessly trying to persuade the Headmaster if they could see Harry. The old man held firm, but offered words of sympathetic compromise at the let-down looks on their faces.

"One day. Please, wait at least one day and if Harry still hasn't awoken, then you may see him. I solemnly swear to you that should any change for the worse happen, you will be let known about it immediately." Relauctantly, the three agreed to this. None had been expecting a call so soon though...

oOo

A very anxious Madam Promfrey stood in the corner, having a very animated and loud conversation with Dumbledore. She had a fretful look about her, wisps of hair protruding out from her usually stiff, McGonagall-like bun. The woman was wringing her hands, frequently shooting glances over at her unmoving patient.

"It's not good, Albus. No matter what I do, the boy simply won't wake up. I've tried Ennervation, potions, everything I can think of! Outwardly, he's perfectly healthy. But he should have awoken by now; this isn't normal in a dementor attack!" Promfrey's voice rose hysterically as she spoke, gesturing wildly in Harry's direction and eyes betraying the fear she felt. Normally, the nurse was calm, cool, and collected. But at this moment, she was letting her true feelings of frustration and worry show. Dumbledore himself looked apprehensive, but there was a pensive look filtering across his face.

"Perhaps... yes, it could be..." He seemed to be weighing guesses aloud, but then reverted back to reality. "I have a hunch, Poppy, that the memories Harry were forced to relive during the dementor attack are possessing him still, rendering the boy unable to revive. It is rare, though not entirely uncommon, in dementor attacks with an abnormally abundant amount of dementors for the victim to remained haunted and restrained by the dementor's effects, unconsciously reliving the visions."

"But then, how will we rouse him? Is it possible to retrieve him from there?" Promfrey questioned, stealing another look over at Harry. She felt so concerned for the child. He faced so much yet received so little in return! Dumbledore sombered.

"It's complicated, Poppy. The victim must empty the bad thoughts into a pensieve, relieving his mind of the strain. Only then can they awaken," the Headmaster stated.

"Is there more to this, though? I mean, what about the stored memories? I, as much as everyone else postioned in the welfare of the child, would love for Harry to be rid of the past's traumas. The boy has faced so much more than any other student who's passed through this school; so much more burden hanging over his shoulders. But it is inevitable he recieve them back, is it not?" the matron pressed. Dumbledore nodded at her intuitiveness.

"Yes. Harry needs his memories, even the bad. They will have to be put back one by one after he has regained consciousness, so as to not overwhelm him. If the child cannot retain them, then all hope of him fighting Voldemort in the final duel is lost. You cannot fight a person whom you believe has done no evil, especially Harry. Those bad memories are both a curse and a blessing- it reminds him of why he must defeat the Dark lord and what could be lost if all fails." Madam Promfrey, like all the Order members, knew of the prophecy's contents. She knew it was this mere child's destiny to fight the last battle withVoldemort, either to be the victorious or fallen. If he died, the hope of the world's goodness died with him. And none were about to let that happen.

oOo

The threesome of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny entered the Hospital Wing, instantaneously being greeted by Professor Dumbledore. They launched into interrogation at once.

"Sir, what's wrong with Harry?" Ron and Hermione simultaneously asked.

"Is he ill?" Ginny was looking past the Headmaster and over where Madam Promfrey was tending to Harry, sitting beside his sickly form. Harry was covered in a sheen of sweat, a light shivering shaking his body. The matron was wiping his forehead with a wet cloth. The boy's heart rate had suddenly begun dropping, and his temperature increased with each minute, as if it were hard for him to keep going, what with the repetition of cruel scenes playing through his mind like a broken record. He had taken a turn for the worst. The visions seemed to be taking a toll on his physical state, as well as mental.

"Harry is being attacked mentally with bad memories of the terrors from his past, due to long exposure to many dementors. Currently, he is unable to awaken and he needs our help," Dumbledore said.

"Our...?" Hermione trailed off, coming to the revelation. "But... how can we help?"

"The four of us are going to attempt to enter Harry's mind." Three gasps sounded from the Gryffindor teens.

"Into his mind?"

"How will we do that?"

"Won't Harry be angry if we're watching his past memories?" Ginny questioned, always the sensitive one. "He never wants to talk about Dursley life, the night in the Graveyard, Sirius' death, or any other painful subject. He always changes the topic." Dumbledore's gaze saddened.

"It is unavoidable. If we are to rescue Harry, we must observe the memories as well. To ignore them is to ignore Harry's plight," the Headmaster opined. "Come with me." He led them to Harry's bedside.

"We don't have much time," Madam Promfrey muttered to Dumbledore, saying it softly so as to not alarm the children. But they heard nonetheless, and whatever doubt they'd been feeling vanished. It was Harry's life on the line.

"Accio pensieve!" Dumbledore called, wand raised high. With a resounding whoosh, the ancient pensieve that always resided in Dumbledore's office came to a halt in front of the five occupants of the ward. The runes carved into it glittered oddly as Dumbledore incanted a complex spell, hand resting on the memory-holder. He let go of the tool and waved his hand over the pure, crystalline liquid inside. A thin strand that almost looked like green string floated out, and Dumbledore grabbed hold of it.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, hungry for knowledge.

"An Almalgamater," he answered. "A very complicated term. To almalgamate something, means to merge something with something else, or to connect it... You shall see why it is named such...Deuxtus!" The spell struck the string into two. Skillfully, the man set one Almalgamater onto Harry's temple and instantly, it melded into it. The three children just stared aghast at this abnormal display. The Almalgamater connected Harry with the pensieve, Dumbledore explained to all, and was a means of transporting the memories.

"What's the other strand for?" Ron inquired of the second Almalgamater still in Dumbledore's hand. The man offered no immediate response, instead setting it onto Harry's other temple and it too became one with the boy. However, the end of the string was still held in Dumbledore's grasp. To Hermione, a Muggle-born, the concoction looked rather like a muggle IV hook-up.

"It is our transportation," Dumbledore finally answered simply to Ron."Everyone grab hold of a part of it. The Almalgamater works like a portkey, and will transfer us into Harry's subconscious." Ron, Hermione, and Ginny each grabbed hold.

"Prepare yoursleves," Dumbledore warned. He closed his eyes and the trio, unsure of what to do, followed suit.

An unseen wind kicked up, blowing the quartet's hair around wildly, slapping them with its force. There was an unearthly glow that surrounded all four, slightly white in color. Then the luminescence spread to Harry, traveling down the Almalgamater to encircle him like one's aura. There was a blinding flash of light, then the Professor and trio were gone.

"Please get him back," Madam Promfrey prayed aloud, stroking Harry's unruly hair away from his sticky forehead.

oOo

Harry shivered, having watched Cedric's death for the umpteenth time. Amazingly, it was just as frightening and painful to see as the first time, when he'd really been there. But for all Harry knew, he was there again. It was as if he were living inside a very-real nightmare, with no escape. Harry knew he was going to lose it soon, for seeing these memories play over and over again were driving him over the edge with grief and sadness, and there was no release in sight.

The scene moved to Voldemort casting Crucio on Harry. The real Boy-Who-Lived twitched, averting his eyes but unable to block out his own screams. He could almost feel the illusionary anguish, having been on the recieivng end of the curse many times; many times enough to be able to envision the spell coursing through his very bones...

A ball of light appeared nearby Harry, growing brighter in intensity- so much so that Harry had to shield his eyes. Curiousity overcame fear and he peeked through his fingers. Four figures stood there, three in total astonishment.

"Professor Dumbledore! Ron! Hermione! Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, blushing ashamedly and insides squirming. Currently, past memory Harry was being berated by Vernon Dursley for having dropped a pan of bacon because he felt ill. A cuff on the side of past-Harry's head was given in the beefy man's anger. Harry really didn't want his peers or the Headmaster to be seeing such stuff as this.

'But Uncle, I feel sick! It wasn't my fault!' the 8-year-old child cried, tears springing to his eyes at the smack and cradling his reddened ears. There was a slight ringing sounding in his head because of the strike. The hurt was evident in his voice, and Harry remembered how back then, he'd still fostered hope that someday, the Dursleys would love him. The hope died soon enough when he'd realized the truth that had been staring him in the face all along. Unlce Vernon's chest expanded and his vein in his temple throbbed... danger point...

'Too damn well it is, boy! I didn't ask for you to be dropped off on our doorstep! I didn't ask for you to be freakin' born! That is your fault! It is your fault for simply living!' Vernon roared, purple in the face. He slapped Harry across the face ruthlessly, this time as punishment for plainly being. The attack was so fierce that it knocked little Harry to the floor.

'Get up, FREAK! Go to your room, now! Perhaps missing dinner tonight will teach your sorry little self to not talk back to your elders!'

Present Harry turned away from the scene, tears gathering in his eyes and fighting to be released. But Harry held firm- only one leaked out from the confinement. He would rather be trapped in this hellhole forever than have them seeing this. He didn't want to constantly see their pity for him every time after this thathe laid eyes on one of them. It was too much to handle...

A hand came to rest on his shoulder familarily. Harry knew who it was before he'd even turned around.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. Was this a common occurence at the Dursleys?" Dumbledore's voice softly questioned. Harry kept his eyes firmly trained on his feet, giving a barely noticeable nod in response. The hand tightened consolingly. The other three only watched on in sadness, having no clue what to do or say to help Harry. They never knew it had been so horrible...

The memory shifted to Sirus' death and Dumbledore took the time to offer Harry the Almalgamater he held. "Come, Harry. You must leave this place. Take the string and empty your mind of these painful recollections. Hurry, before it is too late. You are failing in the present world." Harry's eyes widened. He didn't want to die; he couldn't! There was too much to live for and too much at stake if he did. He grabbed for the string. And missed. And missed again.

"I can't get it!" Harry cried despairingly, trying and failing over and over. It was so close, yet each time his hand drew near, the Almalgamater seemed to dissipate or shrink away. If he couldn't grab hold, would he be stuck here forever? "Help me!"

"Ron. Hermione. Ginny. Help me bring Harry the Almalgamater. This is where you are needed. The Almalgamater is a tool of love, and feeds upon it to gain strength. The more love we can pour forth, the easier it will be for Harry to grasp it. The love we can produce will counter-attack the evil feeding the visions and will successfully pull Harry out," Dumbledore said. The trio came over and grabbed hold of the Almalgamater. Each thought about how much Harry meant to them, and how devastating it would be if he died or remained a captive of his mind. The string glowed, and slowly and cautiously, Harry reached out for it. This time, it didn't shirk away and Harry was able to clasp it gently. But his hold tightened when tremendous power began pulling the memories in. Harry cried out at the sheer force, feeling the power tug, pull, and even rip his mind free of the visions.

All went black as Harry's mind became free. It was an uninterrupted, yet comforting abyss Harry fell into.

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How was the chapter? I hope you all liked it. The Almalgamater stuff is all from my head, except the word :) Dumbledore explains what it means for you though. I beg you all to take the time to review now, and let me know of what you think. Kudos!

Luv- AngelMoon Girl

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