Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they help me write whenever I can get a break from classes and life :D

Questions/Concerns Concerning:

Inferi Curse and Magic Power:Not every Death Eater was casting the Inferi Curse, since a weak wizard would find it moderately draining to cast, however, like the killing curse, anyone can cast it if they have enough hate and nasty intent.


- - - Book 3 - Part 8: WWW

Madam Pomfrey stepped out of her office and found a sight she had to capture. Quickly going back into her office to get her magic camera, she came back in and snapped a picture.

Teddy was snoozing on Harry's chest, teddybear behind in the air, fuzzy tail and all. Harry's hand was resting on the back of Teddy's head, both oblivious to the world.

"I expect a copy of that once you develop it, my dear," Dumbledore whispered, resting in the adjacent bed.

Hearing his voice, Pomfrey quickly put the camera on the table and went to him, waving her wand over him.

"How are you feeling, Headmaster?" she asked.

"My shoulder feels a little tight, and my leg feels numb, but other than that, just tired," Dumbledore said.

"You should still be asleep, that's why." She waved her wand a little bit more. "But despite your poor sleeping habits, your core seems to have recovered some of its strength back. If you'd like, you can take skele-grow now."

"I believe it would be best to get it over with," Dumbledore said, deciding it best not to tell her he had woken earlier that morning and had spoken to Harry and Teddy.

He didn't want to see what she might do.

O o O o O

"Minerva, that really isn't necessary," Harry heard, quickly recognizing it as Dumbledore's voice.

"Poppy insisted," McGonagall said, this clearly at least being the fifth time she had said this. Her voice was tired, and really didn't sound up for a fight.

"But, Minerva, it's..."

Was the Headmaster... whining?

Harry opened his eyes and looked beside him, finding McGonagall sitting on the left side of Dumbledore's bed in a chair with her back to Harry. If Harry had to guess, it looked as if she was holding Dumbledore's hand, but since he couldn't see through people, he couldn't be sure.

He heard McGonagall sigh. "Albus, do you really want to stay in this bed for the rest of the year?"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then you are going to have to do as Poppy says. It won't be that bad, many people have them."

Harry raised his head a little bit to try and look at Dumbledore. He managed to peer around McGonagall to find that Dumbledore had placed his right arm over his eyes.

McGonagall shifted in her chair a little bit. "I wish there was something that could make this easier for you."

Regrowing any amount bone was painful, but a good portion of several leg bones? One of which being the largest bone in the body?! Harry didn't want to even imagine it.

"You know the skele-gro won't work right if there's anything else with it," Dumbledore said, managing to muffle a hiss at the end. "And a numbing spell would not be a good idea," he added, as if able to detect that that was what McGonagall had been thinking about casting. "The nerves need to be able to detect where the new bone is growing, so it can direct the magic accordingly-wouldn't want bone growing the wrong way."

Harry winced, and was certain McGonagall winced as well.

"Well," McGonagall said, changing the topic (or rather, going back to the previous one). "When I get back, you'll have it, and we expect you to use it! Poppy will be on all of our cases if she so much as thinks you haven't done as she said."

"If I must," Dumbledore said, sounding as if he had just given up his month's supply of lemon drops.

"You do," she said, sounding quite pleased with herself now. She got up from her chair, kissed him on the cheek, and left the hospital wing as if she was on a mission.

Harry mused she probably was.

"Glad to know you're awake, Harry," Dumbledore said, his forearm still resting over his eyes.

Harry forced himself not to jump.

"Dumbledore's leg hurts," Teddy stated sadly.

"It'll be fine soon," he said. "Madam Pomfrey said it'll be done around dinner, though she's going to keep me here for at least another day."

"What time is it now, sir?" Harry asked.

"Eleven or so, I believe. Madam Pomfrey will be surprised that you haven't slept longer."

"Oh," Harry managed, a little concerned that he might have missed something Custosae related.

"Everything has been quiet. I think Riddle is regrouping. He lost a fair number of death eaters; not a great deal, mind you, but enough to make him hesitant about attacking anytime soon," Dumbledore said, somehow able to hide his pain fairly well.

Harry nodded, wondering if he was allowed out of bed yet. He didn't want Pomfrey on his case. And what were McGonagall and Dumbledore talking about earlier? He didn't know, but didn't feel it appropriate to ask, so he lay back down.

O o O o O

Breakfast that morning had been a solemn one. McGonagall had stood up beside the Headmaster's table, causing the whole hall to become silent.

"If I may have your attention," she began, already having the full attention of everyone in the hall, but needing some place to begin. "As I am sure many of you know, there was an attack at the Ministry last night."

The very few who didn't know gasped.

"I will not go into specifics of the battle, but feel that you all must be told that the Headmaster was injured during it. He is currently recovering in the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey is confident he will make a full recovery, but until then, I am acting Headmistress."

She then sat down, their breakfast appearing on the table soon after as the students began whispering, worried and wondering what exactly had happened and if Dumbledore was really okay.

Then the Daily Prophet came.

On the front page was a photo of the Atrium, several Custosae (though technically Amici) fighters battling Death Eaters, Ministry workers scrambling about.

The articles detailed the havoc and the current number of injured and dead, and went into the heroic actions of the Custosae, including Mr. Black's announcement moments before the attack, which no doubt saved hundreds.

It also mentioned that Voldemort had gone into a highly secret section of the Ministry of Magic and had succeeded in stealing an item, despite the attempts of the Custosae and Albus Dumbledore. Fudge was also included in the article, understandably, and stated that he was in a safe location, protected by Custosae, and was communicating with the Board of Governors and the Wizengamot from there.

After detailing the battle, another article went into the new curses used, several people of the Ministry and of the press evidently feeling the public had a right to know. The Infuri Curse was soon the most feared one of them all.

The day crawled along, and lunch was just as bright as breakfast, especially when who the casualties were began coming in. A number of the students whose loved ones had been injured were allowed to floo to St. Mungos, Professor Flitwick escorting them.

Those, whose family members had died, were allowed to go home to their families if they wished. There were around ten students with such circumstances.

Before dinner, Harry was allowed to leave the infirmary, Pomfrey assuring him Dumbledore would most likely be well enough to leave sometime the next day. McGonagall had yet to bring in whatever she and Dumbledore had been talking about that morning.

"Harry, how are you? How's Dumbledore?" Hermione asked as he entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"I'm fine, and Pomfrey said he'd probably be able to leave tomorrow, though he's going to need to take it easy for at least a week. I think her words were, 'No strenuous activities, Albus, I mean it! If I hear you've overexerted yourself, I'll drag you back in here myself for you to be bedridden for the rest of the week, if not longer!'"

"Poor Dumbledore..." Ron said.

"Yeah, it wasn't pretty."

"So, Come and Go Room?" Harry asked.

"Definitely, I'll notify the others," Hermione said, quickly getting out her mirror to tell the others.

They all arrived in the Come and Go Room, including Hagrid and Dobby.

They quickly brought Harry up to speed with what had been going on while he was in the infirmary, which wasn't much, just that the Minister had contacted the Board and the Wizengamot and that the Ministry was stepping up their security and such. To put it simply, they were preparing for war.

"So, any other Custosae business?" Harry asked.

"Well, Harry-"

"Funny you should ask-"

"For we have finished creating a few-"

"Things that will be-"

"Very helpful," the twins said.

"Greg and Vince-"

"And Hermione-"

"Were very helpful."

"What things have you all made?" Harry asked.

"Things we will be adding to our belts," Hermione said. "We now have a polyjuice-glamour pill. You take it, think of what you want to look like-just like you do with the glamour spell, and then you morph into what you want to look like."

"Wow," Harry said. "So, how does it work?"

"Well, unlike the polyjuice potion, it can be detected, however, it takes a fairly powerful wizard to notice, and if it is noticed, a person still can't see through it. At most, they will know you have a glamour or something similar on, nothing more," Greg explained.

"Hmm, that's not too bad. But what about Moody's eye?" Ron asked.

"He'll be able to detect it and see what features it's affecting, but nothing else," Vince said. "He won't be able to tell what we really look like."

"To deactivate the pill, you say the designated action word, which you define the moment after you swallow the pill and think of what you want to look like," Hermione said.

"How long does it last?" Susan asked.

"As long as a glamour can, but know that it continues to draw from you magically, though veryvery little."

"We have also made a few other things," Fred began.

"Which will serve as distractions-"

"And other fun little things to annoy Death Eaters."

"Including a swamp!"

"We call our collection of gadgets-"

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

"WWW. Nice," Neville said.

"How about we use 'W' Cubed whenever we refer to it outside of here?" Hermione asked.

"Works for us," Fred said, grinning.

"Maybe after Voldemort is gone-"

"And we leave Hogwarts-"

"We can open a shop-"

"And call it that!"

"We're looking forward to it," Draco said.

Harry wasn't sure if he was serious or not.

O o O o O

Dumbledore was not having a happy day. Yeah, sure he was able to leave the infirmary, but it had not come without a price.

Stepping out and turning toward where his office was, he set the bottom of his cane firmly on the floor.

"Now, Headmaster, I want you to use this for at least two weeks. Your leg still has some mending to do, no matter how much you try to deny it," Pomfrey said.

Dumbledore fought back a sigh, glancing down at his cane.

He might have liked it if not for the fact he supposedly needed it. Taking a few steps, he glanced down at it again.

The head of it was a phoenix; the grand wings folded back, allowing for Dumbledore's hand to comfortably wrap around its body. Its head was proudly raised and easy to see. It was a rather dignified cane at least, he thought, suddenly thankful Minerva had taken the time to personally get him a cane, rather than leaving it to Pomfrey, who probably would have given him a walker instead.

She was that cruel. But he supposed he was being too hard on Pomfrey, not that that would stop him from charming his cane...

Finally in his office, he sat down and pulled out his wand. After waving it over the golden phoenix a few times, he was confident he had done what he wanted.

The phoenix would now give a call whenever he didn't know Pomfrey was near, alerting him to her presence.

Sitting back to relax in his chair, he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking.

Why had Harry whispered what he had? Had Mage spoken to him earlier? Maybe he told Harry he didn't like Halloween either and so Harry's own thoughts later went back to that conversation? Maybe. But if that is so, why am I getting the feeling I'm missing something?

Dumbledore had thought hard about it before finally going to sleep that night in the infirmary, but he had come up with nothing then, just as right now. Well, pretty much nothing, just some random 'what if' thoughts.

What if Harry is more than a contact and source for the Custosae?

Hmm, he could be an Amici. It would make sense since Sirius and Remus are, and after Severus telling me his contact is young Malfoy, it certainly makes me wonder, but Draco's part in everything probably has a lot to do with the fact Draco's parents were killed than anything else...

No...Harry seems more important to Mage than that, for it was Mage who had convinced me to tell Harry about the prophesy he already mostly knew. Definitely makes sense now why Mage did not seem properly bothered that I was going to tell a young boy about such troubling things, since he knew what Harry knew because Harry had told him.

But that's another troubling thought.

How had Harry known it was safe to share these things with Mage when he hadn't shared them with anyone else? And that brings back the question of how the Custosae got in contact with Harry without anyone knowing. Perhaps it's through the mirrors, since I am sure they know I would have noticed any increased mail circulation where it came to Harry, such as those Gringott's letters I've seen him receive a few times.

Maybe I should just ask Mage the next time we talk. We are both on the same side, have the same motives and desire to protect, and after everything, there can't be much reason for him not to tell me something like that.

Dumbledore nodded to himself, deciding that was what he'd do the next talk they had.

O o O o O

Walking into the Great Hall for dinner that night was quiet, and very few people had questioned Harry about where he had been earlier-probably thanks to the Army of Hogwarts.

Everyone seated themselves, expecting McGonagall to stand up and perhaps give an announcement, but she didn't. She remained seated.

Before many could begin to wonder what was up, a light tap by the front of the hall caused them all to become silent.

Dumbledore was there.

He had just stepped from the side room and entered the Great Hall. As usual, his loud robes rivaled the hall's ceiling, but their eyes quickly came to rest on what he was barely leaning on.

A cane. However, instead of making him appear weak, frail, and old, it made him look even more powerful, strong, and wise.

He began walking to the table, a barely audible tap reaching them all.

It told Harry and Hermione (as well as a few others) that Dumbledore was barely using the cane. A sharp look from Pomfrey to Dumbledore was enough to show she had also come to the same conclusion. Dumbledore merely smiled at her, eyes twinkling.

He came to a stop in front of his chair and looked across them all, positively beaming before he attempted a greeting, but before he could, a loud roar from nearly the entire student body erupted, all of them rising to their feet.

Soon after, the professors stood up and joined in the cheers, Flitwick squeaking excitedly while Hagrid's gruff thankful voice and thunderous claps rumbled from down the table. McGonagall discreetly whipped away a tear, standing proudly beside Dumbledore.

Then the twins, and quickly the whole Gryffindor table (and a few from the other tables), began chanting:

"A-D! A-D! Nothin' can stop - the bumblebee!"

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling wildly, making one have to wonder if they were miniature galaxies or something.

Dinner, understandably, ended late that night.

O o O o O

Dumbledore knew he couldn't get caught; he would never be able to hear the end of it if he was.

He looked down the hall, thankful no one was about as he walked briskly to the entrance into the Chamber. The previously soft tap of his cane had disappeared; though that was because of the silencing spell he had placed upon it.

Finally, he made it into the Chamber and called Salandra.

:Master, it is good to see you again: Salandra said, coming from the shadows.

"Hello, Salandra, my dear."

Salandra glanced at the cane.

:I assume no one knows you have come to visit me?:

"No, I don't think they would like the idea of their still healing Headmaster to go down a set of stairs in relative darkness," Dumbledore said with a smile.

:I would hope not: Salandra said, though clearly amused. :Well, as much as I am glad to see you, I gather you have not come for a simple visit:

"No, you're right."

:You want to know more about why your magic reacted as it did?:

"Yes, so next time, though I hope there won't be a next time, I can maybe control it or prevent it from happening. I don't want to burden Harry more than I already have."

:Of course, master:

She slithered forward a little, before lowering herself to get comfortable. Dumbledore conjured a comfy chair.

:What I am about to tell you is very dangerous knowledge, and I only wish a very few to know this:

"Alright, I will keep it to myself, and if I feel I should share it with someone, I'll ask you first."

She nodded.

:The source of a basilisk's overall magic is held within our eyes, and only when we have first killed does the magic spread to the rest of our bodies to provide protection and added strength with the energy we have just gathered from our victim.

:Long ago, a wizard harnessed this power, the power that causes our magic to fully awaken and for us to absorb the life force from our pray. He turned it into a spell, a spell Riddle knows very well:

Salandra paused and gave Dumbledore a long look, watching as he came to the truth.

"The Killing Curse?" he whispered.

:Yes, the magic of the killing curse is the same as the magic that causes my kind's glare to work and for the power we have taken to wrap us in its mighty protection:

"So...when I was exposed to it..." Dumbledore whispered, thinking back. "Right after I got hit in the knee, a killing curse flew by me...that must have been why my magic from you wrapped my leg soon after." He scratched his chin, continuing to think. "And then the Inferi Curse, it had green streaks in it..."

Salandra nodded, pleased he had gathered everything so quickly, but then, what else could she expect from Dumbledore?

"So, the magic in the killing curse acts the opposite for me?"

:I honestly don't know what would happen if you got directly hit by it, considering you are not a basilisk and do not have the same level as stare as I do:

"What about Harry and even Mr. Malfoy?"

:I don't know. Harry is a different case, and so is young Draco. Harry's magic is chaotic and though he has some of my magic, he also has Fawkes', which wars against mine. I cannot even begin to guess what might happen if that curse hit him:

"Well, this does explain a few things, like why a killing curse can't kill a basilisk," Dumbledore said.

Salandra seemed to smile at that. :Yes, I suppose it does:

"So, is there a way to control this magic?" Dumbledore asked, very close to sounding like a first year who had just been introduced to magic.

:Possibly, for with practice you can control your stare and turn it on at will. My first master did. If you are hurt again, I believe if you focus to draw in your magic, you may be able to allow yourself to at least be minimally treated, and after that, I am sure your magic will calm the rest of the way:

Dumbledore nodded. "I think I will try to practice doing that. Do you think it will be similar to Occlumency?"

:Perhaps, my first master did not try to gain that much control, though the killing curse was not a problem during his time:

"Okay, thank you, my dear."

:Your welcome, Master, but I do believe you should leave now. Wouldn't want to make anyone worry:

"Or cause an all out search party," Dumbledore agreed.

Dumbledore went back up the stairs, deciding he would take Pomfrey's advice, just this once, and use the blasted cane.


Next part: Assistance