Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Questions Concerning:
Voldemort's retreat: Just imagine--hundreds of fully clad goblins suddenly appear beside and behind a wizard who had recently apparated through the wards of Hogwarts to fight you. Your troops are vastly outnumbered now and are dropping fast as the wizard suddenly appears in front of you (again, apparating on the grounds), dodges your AK, stabs your familiar, and manages to escape after taking your worst pain curse directly to the chest . . . all the while angry goblins are still advancing. What would you do? I'd run.
Ollivander recognizing wand/magic signatures: The polyjuice-glamour pill takes care of this. It blurs the user's signatures and disguises their wands.
Occlumency organizing the knowledge from Riddle: I honestly don't think any amount of Occlumency could organize and catalog an entire lifetime (50+ years) of memories in a 13 year old boy. He may be able to have it all set and organized when he's about Dumbledore's age, but certainly not any earlier than that. And even then, Dumbledore uses a Pensieve to help.
A/N: Thanks for all the questions and reviews ^^ Enjoy :)
- - - Book 3 — Part 13: Heart
The following hours after Mage's appearance with the Goblins at Hogwarts were filled with confusion and disarray. The Ministry was shocked to find so many goblins suited up and arriving to patrol countless locations, all of the Goblin Commanders simply stating, "We are here under the request of the one called Mage, who has determined his presence is now needed to be known by all, Light and Dark."
That didn't tell them much, obviously, but when they received word of what had happened at Hogwarts, the Minister decided to pay a visit to Hogwarts to see what was happening for himself.
Cornelius, now accompanied by Madam Bones who had just received reports from the Ministry about casualties and damages, made his way to Hogwarts, having apparated in at Hogsmeade.
What they arrived to astounded him. Goblins were everywhere, working with witches and wizards in securing the buildings and the area.
"This way, Minister," Mr. Shacklebolt said, leading them through the organized chaos. "The numbers here are still being collected, but all of the seriously wounded have been taken into Hogwarts. The other wounded are either in the medical tents or in the Great Hall. The fallen have been taken into the Three Broomsticks."
Fudge nodded, taking everything in. How had all of this happened in just one evening?
"Where is Dumbledore?" Fudge asked.
"Inside Hogwarts," Kingsley answered.
"Let's go there now then. I must speak with him," Fudge said.
"Of course, sir," Kingsley said, now leading the Minister and Bones through the cleared rubble.
"Oh my . . . " Bones breathed when they made it onto Hogwart's grounds.
The grounds were littered with covered bodies of giants and death eaters, uplifted and overturned earth, scorch marks, and craters. There were also dozens of Goblins patrolling the grounds' borders with a few aurors. Beside one of the main medical tents were the respectfully covered. Sirius Black was standing at the entrance, speaking with a highly decorated goblin.
"This way," Kingsley directed, a few goblins passing by.
"Ah! Minister!"
Kingsley fought down a groan.
"What is the Ministry doing at this time? Have they made an agreement with the Goblins? Have they allied themselves with the Custosae? This 'Mage'?" Skeeter asked.
"Ms. Skeeter, please, if you wish, you may join us into Hogwarts, but please refrain from asking questions at the moment. As you can see, we have much to do, and I'm sure you do not want to hinder any of our actions in trying to assist the injured, begin repairing the damage that has occurred, and restoring order?" Fudge asked, talking smoothly.
Bones and Kingsley couldn't help but be impressed. When had this happened?
Skeeter was taken aback. "Of-of course Minister."
And so, they headed into Hogwarts.
O o O o O
Dumbledore nodded, speaking with McGonagall. "Yes, he is going to be alright."
"And Aberforth?" she asked.
Dumbledore's eyes stilled for a moment. "I hope."
McGonagall was about to say something more when Kingsley, Fudge, Skeeter, and Bones approached.
"Albus, tell me, what has happened here?" Fudge asked. "Where is this Mage? I was told he appeared here. Do you need any assistance from the Ministry, or do you have things covered here? I need to know where to send more help."
"Mage is resting in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey has ordered that he be allowed to rest, but he has agreed to give a statement later. At this moment, Hogwarts does not need any further assistance. What Mage has provided is enough."
"Casualties? Have any students been hurt?" he asked, ignoring Skeeter's scratching quill.
Dumbledore glanced at her. "Ms. Skeeter."
She paused, looking up at him with some surprise at being directly addressed. "Yes?"
"I trust what you write is the complete truth and only the truth?"
"Of course!" she said, looking offended.
"Ah, splendid! Then I am confident in informing the goblins any comments they wish to be made public can be shared with you, for you know how vengeful they can become when anything untruthful is involved with them or their allies," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "I would hate to see any misunderstandings occur between the Daily Prophet and the Goblins—the following events would be quite unpleasant." He looked over his spectacles at her.
"We have no need to worry about those events," Skeeter said, subtly scratching something out with her quill.
"Good," Dumbledore stated. "Back to your questions, Minister, there have been no student deaths, as the house elves of Hogwarts retrieved them all and a number of Hogsmeade villagers. Some student injuries occurred, but they are all expected to make a full recovery," he said, before growing solemn. "At this time, we know sixteen villagers, however, have been lost."
"I am glad the house elves were able to help. In other places the numbers are far worse," Bones said sadly. "Diagon suffered well over thirty."
"What about the battle just outside, Albus?" Fudge asked. "I must say, it must have been quite . . . daunting."
Dumbledore sighed, the goblins just having updated him on the situation there an hour before. Thorn's intel had only concerned numbers away from Hogwarts. "Professors Septima Vector and Aurora Sinistra fell, as well as seven Aurors and Forshaw Craw, an Amici."
"Amici?" Skeeter asked, not seeing Kingsley's pained expression.
"One of Mage's men," Dumbledore said.
"May I speak with Mage?"
"Not at this time, as I said, he is recovering from his confrontation with Voldemort," Dumbledore said, ignoring how they reacted to Voldemort's name.
"I've seen the photos," Bones stated. "I'm sure they will be in tomorrow's paper."
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked. He knew of the photos, obviously, but didn't know the exact image they had captured.
"It shows the goblins appearing behind and beside Mage, before he disappears and appears in front of Voldemort. Another is a close up of him stabbing the snake. I must say, they are very impressive."
Dumbledore nodded. "Minister, if you and Madam Bones would join me, I wouldn't mind speaking with you two privately."
Skeeter actually didn't look upset at that, but understanding. She probably wanted to turn in her article as soon as possible. "Any statements you wish to give before I go?" she asked. "Perhaps about your new friend, Mage? I am sure the Wizarding World desires to know more about him."
"Mage has been and will continue to be a powerful guardian of light. His actions today clearly support this, for Hogwarts may have been lost today if it hadn't been for him. I am honored to be his friend. Good day, Ms. Skeeter. I look forward to reading tomorrow's paper, as I am sure the goblins are as well."
With that, he turned and began walking to his office. Bones and Fudge quietly followed, leaving Kingsley with Skeeter.
O o O o O
The nightmarish day came to an end. The injured had been taken for treatment. The tired and drained took refuge in protected locations, either in their homes, in Hogwarts or St. Mungos. And the dead, both light and dark, were collected and counted.
The Army of Hogwarts was still, watching over the other students in shifts, the news of the two fallen professors already having spread. Those in the Custosae also learned of Forshaw Craw's passing. Kingsley told the other Amici.
St. Mungos was still moving through patients, filing their injuries and information on papers while goblins, Amici, and aurors patrolled their halls and stood guard by their doors.
Diagon Alley was silent and empty of civilians. Goblins, Amici, and aurors only.
Azkaban was vacant of life.
Every major wizarding village had a gobin unit patrolling their perimeter. Hogsmeade had three.
The Ministry had also tightened its security all around. Many workers were pulling an all-nighter, trying to determine how much damage there was and how to keep the public safe. No one had come up with any realistic ideas though.
The Prophet was organizing countless articles and photos, particularly the one concerning the monumental battle at Hogwarts and the appearance of Mage. They all knew the next morning's paper was going to become one that would be looked back on in the future, for the events of the day had been appalling, terrifying, heroic, epic — Legendary. They wanted to get it right.
In the hospital wing at Hogwarts, Thorn stood guard beside Mage, having taken a pepper-up potion to tide him over until he would be able to rest.
All was quiet, save for the soft breathing and muffled snores coming from the patients in the room. Mage sighed, causing Thorn to look down.
"Mage?" Thorn whispered, finding that he wasn't sleeping.
This didn't surprise him. Over the past few hours, Mage had been teetering back and forth between awake and asleep.
"I'm okay, just finding it difficult to sleep," he whispered.
"I can imagine. Are you hurting?"
"Some," he muttered.
"Should I get Madam Pomfrey? Is it getting worse?" Thorn asked, worry in his eyes.
"No, it's not that ba—"
"Aahgg!"
Mage and Thorn both shot their eyes to the sound, finding Aberfoth suddenly struggling to breathe as his arm moved to grip his chest in pain. Harry, having seen some tv shows concerning hospitals, instantly thought about a heart attack. His knowledge about the human body he had gathered from his own studies with Teddy supported this. Perhaps a clot, formed from one of his injuries, had traveled and blocked an artery. It was certainly possible.
"Pomfrey!" Thorn shouted, just as Pomfrey shot out of her chambers linked to her office.
She dashed to Aberforth, waving her wand about as Ms. Clearwater, who had been sleeping at the other end of the infirmary in case her help was needed, got up and ran to her. Some of the other patients woke up, but due to their injuries had no choice but to remain in their beds.
"Ms. Clearwater, get St. Mungos, I need at least two Healers, now! Use my fireplace!" she shouted before muttering charms and checking Aberforth's pupils. "After that, get the Headmaster!"
Aberforth gasped, his eyes going wide as the pain in his chest flared.
Mage sat up as Thorn stepped forward.
"Tell us what to do," Thorn stated.
Pomfrey shook her head, trying another charm, but it didn't seem to help as Aberforth passed out. A rather unladylike word came forth from Pomfrey's lips as two Healers appeared out of her office, closely followed by Penelope Clearwater who was soon running out of the infirmary to get Dumbledore.
Thorn and Mage stayed back, knowing they would be more in the way than helpful.
The Healers moved to the other side of the bed, one of them opening up a box with potions and instruments inside.
"Madam, I am Healer Lake and this is Healer Fields."
"Thanks for coming. He's having a heart attack," Pomfrey stated.
Mage and Thorn watched Lake place a magically hovering meter at the head of the bed, showing details of Aberforth's vitals. One was clearly of his heartbeat, which was irregular.
"Come on," Pomfrey actually hissed as Fields cast something else. Aberforth's breathing seemed to ease somewhat, but before they could relax at all, he suddenly stopped breathing.
During all of this, Mage and Thorn were watching, taking everything in. Mage was now out of bed, standing beside Thorn. What could he do? Was there anything he knew that could help? After Thorn spoke with Hermit over the mirror several hours ago, they had learned Aberforth had practically been smashed by the roof, which resulted in the serious internal injuries Pomfrey found and healed the best she could.
Harry's mind wandered, mere seconds ticking by as he mentally searched for anything that might help.
Muggles.
They had ways to combat this.
Shock.
Electricity.
It corrected irregular heart beats and restarted still hearts.
The Twins! They had been experimenting with spells involving shock, so if he could perhaps find a way. . . .
Mage's wand fell into his hand as his eyes widened, a spell from Riddle's memories surfacing. Harry cringed, finding that the spell had been created for torture. Extreme torture. Mage shook his head. He would change its purpose to one of life today with the help of the Twin's spell, that is, if it worked.
Mage blinked, the scene before him unchanged. Aberforth was dying.
"Everyone, back away!" Mage stated, his voice laced with magic as he moved forward.
Pomfrey and the two men looked up, confused and taken aback. Thorn was sure the man called Fields was angry for being ordered in such a way.
"Do as I said! Move away!" Mage shouted at them, making Pomfrey jump before she moved back, allowing Mage to take her place.
"Do as he said," Pomfrey stated. The Healers grudgingly did so, knowing nothing they were doing was helping. Perhaps this stranger would do something that would.
"Thorn, keep everyone back—No Matter What." Mage met Thorn's eyes, his message clear. Thorn nodded, now at the foot of Aberforth's bed.
Thorn had his wand out, motioning Pomfrey and the other two men to stand near where Mage's bed was. They did so . . . reluctantly.
Mage firmly placed his hand on Aberforth's chest, right over his heart, the old man's robes already having been replaced by a thin hospital gown a while before by Pomfrey. He lifted his wand, mentally combining the spell the Twins had been toying with and the dark one from Riddle's memories with his own healing intent.
His wand movements were sharp and precisely angled as he closed his eyes, knowing what he was about to do would open up a huge can of worms.
Harsh sounds flowed from his mouth, and he ignored the gasps that followed as he slipped into latin, before coupling them with hisses.
"Th-that's Dark Magic!" one of the Healers shouted.
Mage remained focused, trusting that Thorn would keep everyone back.
"Expell—" Lake started.
"Protego!" Thorn shouted.
"—iarmus!"
The spell was easily deflected.
"What are you doing?!" Fields shouted. "He's using dar—"
Blue and yellow electric threads suddenly exploded from Mage's hand, surging into Aberforth and causing his back to arch before Mage could force him back down.
Aberforth's heart stopped.
"Get away from him you death eater!" Lake cried. "You're killing him!"
Mage appeared not to hear him as he jabbed his wand down, sweat gathering on his brow.
The doors to the infirmary burst open, Dumbledore rushing forward.
"Stup—"
"Stupify!" Thorn shouted.
Lake dropped.
"Everyone stay back!" Thorn roared, all the while Mage continued his harsh sounding casting.
Dumbledore stopped a few beds away and stared, taking in the readings above the head of the bed, the parseltongue echoing around them, and Mage's hand pressing down against his brother's chest.
"Dumbledore, stop him!" Fields shouted. "He's using dark magic!"
A second release of electricity came forth from Mage's hand, more controlled this time, Aberforth going limp again soon after arching.
Thorn kept his post, his wand level and ready to keep everyone back. Dumbledore included.
But Dumbledore's wand remained in his robes, his eyes revealing no emotion. That actually scared Thorn more than an outright attack would have.
"I can't let this continue!" Fields said, his wand in front of him, curse on his lips.
Thorn was about to defend himself and Mage, when a ray of light shot from Dumbledore's direction and knocked the Healer's wand from his hand.
Fields whipped about, his mouth agape. Thorn was a bit surprised as well. There, they found Dumbledore with two wands. One his own, the other belonging to the Healer.
"No one will move from where they are," Dumbledore stated firmly.
Mage gritted his teeth, sweat now dripping down his pale skin. With a low harsh latin word, he slammed his wand down, the tip stopping just as it touched the back of his hand over Aberforth's chest.
Blinding light came forth, bathing them in a most unnatural form of magic. And yet, it was the most natural thing they had ever felt. It was like refreshing sunlight, a cool breeze of wind, and a comforting tongue of flame.
They all heard Aberforth suck in a breath of air, the light still so overwhelming before—
poppop—POP.
The light dimmed, revealing a breathing, however unconscious, Aberforth; his vitals strong.
Thorn and Mage were gone.
O o O o O
Mage and Thorn appeared in the Come and Go Room (Teddy still in Thorn's pocket). Thorn eased Mage down toward the floor, a bed appearing under Mage as his eyes opened and his glamour fell. No one else was in the room.
Neville quickly realized what had happened. Teddy had transported him to Mage, prompting him to grab him, before popping them all out of the infirmary. He tried not to think about how Madam Pomfrey must be beside herself over losing a patient.
Harry released a shuddering breath.
"Harry, are you okay? What did you do?" Thorn asked, too concerned to bother with his own glamour.
His breast pocket wiggled, a tiny voice coming out of it. "Harry, are you okay! Is your stuffing okay!?"
Thorn quickly reached in and retrieved tiny-Teddy.
"Don't eat me," Teddy said, which instantly resulted in him growing back to his original size as he hugged Harry.
Harry wrapped his arm around Teddy, careful with his still sore chest and Teddy's sewn on arm.
"I'm okay, I think I just reached my limit," Harry said after a few quiet minutes. "I need to rest."
Thorn nodded, about to say something when his mirror warmed.
He looked at it. Dumbledore was calling him.
"It's Long Beard."
"Talk to him. He'll want to know what's going on. Mage is unconscious," Harry said.
Thorn nodded, moving away from them as walls appeared around him, just as they had for Hermit.
Thorn took a calming breath, the mirror still warm in his hands. He activated it.
"Thorn!" Dumbledore said, clearly worried. "Is he alright?!"
"He's unconscious, but alright. I apologize for taking him so suddenly, but I felt it was for the best."
"I understand," Dumbledore said. "The healers are still certain Mage did something harmful." Dumbledore shook his head, though Thorn could see he was slightly amused.
"Thank you for not trying to stop him and for stopping that other Healer. I'm glad I didn't have to intercept you."
Dumbledore nodded, his thoughts faltering slightly on what would have occurred if he had stopped Mage.
"He will probably contact you sometime tomorrow about Potter and Longbottom."
"I assume they are sleeping?" Dumbledore asked.
"They will be if they aren't already."
"Very well, then. And Thorn?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
All Thorn could do was nod as he took in the gratitude in Dumbledore's voice and eyes.
"We are a formation of defenders," Dumbledore said, ending the connection.
O o O o O
It was the early morning and Dumbledore was thinking.
He had gotten about an hour of sleep before Ms. Clearwater came banging on his door, and then a few more while dozing beside his brother's bed in the infirmary, which was where he was now.
He could hardly believe everything he had witnessed within the past twenty-four hours. Everything he had seen Mage do. He was very glad he had asked Pomfrey to get him if anything serious happened before leaving the infirmary.
His heart still tightened when he thought back to that moment. The moment he entered the infirmary and saw the state of his brother with Mage casting over him. Casting in Parseltongue. He had understood it, of course, but it still sent chills down his spine.
Mage had been calling on the power of lightning, wielding and warping it to 'tame and awaken flesh' as his latin spell-use called forth another magic to be like soothing ocean waves.
Dumbledore recalled the strain on Mage's face and his sweat dripping onto Aberforth's chest as he altered and cast a spell that had been used by Grindelwald in the war. A parselspell an ancient Gaunt had recorded down unknowingly for a future Gaunt to find and teach to Grindelwald. And then, later, for Voldemort to find. Thankfully, Voldemort did not have the patience for it and only used it a handful of times as far as Dumbledore knew, rather than the amount Grindelwald had.
And Thorn. He had been prepared to stop him—Albus Dumbledore.
Could he have? Dumbledore wasn't sure, but he was ever so thankful he had given Mage a benefit of a doubt, despite all of what he knew about that spell. That spell. . . . How did Mage know it? Was he a parselmouth? Or had he been taught by one? It was possible. Mage seemed to have a lot of friends. Did he know other parselmagic? Did he know more than Voldemort? He could, since he knew how to manipulate such spells to his will, and that took a great deal of practice—either that or a huge amount of luck and magical ability.
"Albus?" Pomfrey asked, unsure if he was asleep or not.
Dumbledore lifted his face up to her. All of the patients, save for Ron and Aberforth (who were still both sleeping), had been taken to St. Mungos or released.
"Poppy?" he asked.
"How are you?"
"Thinking."
She made a face. "That's not exactly an answer to my question."
"I'm fine, Poppy."
"Hm."
"I hope Mage didn't stretch himself too thin."
"I'm . . . sure he's fine," Pomfrey said, though it was clear she had hesitated.
It was now Dumbledore's turn to make a face. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"
Pomfrey pursed her lips.
"Did Voldemort's curse do more harm than you initially revealed?" Dumbledore asked, subtly casting a privacy ward around them.
"No, not that one."
"Not that one? What do you mean?"
"I took a complete body scan, as you know I do with all of my patients, and . . . what I found was slightly . . . disturbing."
"In what way?"
"He has endured a vast amount of injuries throughout his life, many life threatening ones. One in particular that caught my attention concerned his heart."
"That may help explain how he knew how to help my brother," Dumbledore said.
"Perhaps."
"How serious was the injury?"
"Bad enough for me to detect several pockets of scar tissue along the inner walls and arteries of his heart."
"What would cause something like that?"
"There are a number of dark curses that can do that. . . ." Pomfrey trailed off before giving a gasp, her eyes widening. "Including the spell he used!"
"What?"
"Well, not the exact spell he used, since he had adjusted it, but now that I think about it, the damage I detected could have matched up with how the lightning of that spell is directed along certain paths in the heart. If the victim survived and treatment was given in time, it would have formed similar scaring."
"Are you telling me Mage has been tortured?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes widening.
"It certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility."
"Could this cause trouble for him?"
"I'm not sure. If I had had more time to examine him, I might have been able to determine that, but I don't know."
"What about his other injuries?" Dumbledore asked.
"They were all fairly old. The past twenty years of his life or so, save for what happened yesterday, have been uneventful from what I could tell."
Dumbledore nodded. "Well, that's reassuring, at least."
Dumbledore was about to say something more when his mirror heated up. He quickly retrieved it and excused himself. Pomfrey didn't ask questions when he shut himself up in her office.
"Mage?" Dumbledore asked.
"Good morning, Albus," Mage said, his voice a little tired, slurred almost.
"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked.
"I'm just tired. I'll be alright. How is your brother?"
"A lot better, thanks to you. The Healers examined him extensively after you and Thorn left, and they were amazed with what they found. I don't think I will ever be able to thank you enough for what you did."
"No thanks is necessary, please. I wouldn't have been able to do what I had if you hadn't allowed me to. Thorn is powerful, but I'm not sure he would have been able to stop you if you were particularly determined to get past him," he said with a smile. "And you stopped that Healer. That certainly surprised Thorn, let me tell you."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Well, have you seen this morning's Daily Prophet?"
"No, and something tells me I don't want to."
Dumbledore had the decency not to laugh out loud, but Mage knew he wanted to. "I don't know how they managed it, but there's a close up of you stabbing Nagini. I'm sure Riddle is more mortified about that than you could ever possibly be. His defeat and the death of his familiar, out for all the world to see. . . . It is rather gruesome to be honest, though. I'm a bit surprised they allowed that image on the front page, but, alas, nothing about the Daily Prophet should surprise me anymore."
"What else?"
"They outlined the damage . . . as well as the casualties, of all the targeted locations. They also went into the actions of all involved and even wrote a page on Mr. Potter. Evidently, he had more to do with the saving of Hogsmeade than I had initially been told."
"Is that so?" Mage said, trying not to give anything away.
"I assume he told you?" Dumbledore asked. Dumbledore read a 'yes' in Mage's body language. "That boy, he never ceases to amaze me," Dumbledore muttered, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been so proud of a student before, or insanely worried."
Mage didn't know what to say to that, so he moved on. "I suppose I will need to read that paper some time. Anything specific I should prepare myself for?" Mage asked after a moment.
"They went into depth on the attack here, involving Salandra, the house elves, and the Centaurs. They also have a few columns focusing on you. Speculations and the like with a detailed account of what you did, of course; though, strangely, none of their speculations are completely outrageous and they recount the events surprisingly accurately. . . ." Dumbledore trailed off and Mage could swear he was smirking. Smirking!
"You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?" Mage asked.
"Me? Of course not, unless pointing out how much Goblins adore truth and despise lies to a certain reporter. . . ."
Mage couldn't help it, he laughed. After collecting himself, he looked back to the mirror.
"Well, I assume you're curious about when two of your students will return to you?" Mage asked.
"It had crossed my mind."
"They will be in their dorm room shortly, though I suggest letting them rest for a while. The events at Hogsmeade tired them out a great deal," he said, before softly adding, "Harry especially."
"But they are both well?"
"Yes, just exhausted."
"Then I will send Pomfrey up there to wait for them. She would never forgive me if she wasn't allowed to check them over."
"I understand. Pomfrey certainly is a formidable witch."
"Yes, quite foreboding," Dumbledore stated, his eyes twinkling playfully.
Mage smiled at that. "I don't know when I will be able to speak with you again, since Hermit will be on my case to rest."
"As she should, you did a great deal yesterday," Dumbledore said, now serious. And was that . . . worry in his eyes?
"Is Madam Pomfrey rubbing off on you?" Mage asked, part of him surprised he was teasing Dumbledore.
"I'm serious, Mage," Dumbledore said, sobering Mage up quickly.
"I will rest. Don't worry."
"Good. And don't joke like that!" Dumbledore said, easing back his previous tone. "If she really is rubbing off on me, I'll lose my liking of Lemon Drops, and that would destroy me! Can you imagine me without an obsession of Lemon Drops?"
"I suppose you're right, that would be like Riddle suddenly liking pink popsicles," Mage said, barely keeping a straight face. "Wow, I think we're both overly tired."
"Perhaps. Ah, and the Minister has expressed a desire to speak with you. He was a bit disappointed when he learned you and your bodyguard had left last night, and without giving a statement."
"I may find time to speak with him, but until I am able to, he will have to wait," Mage said.
"I will let him know. He is particularly curious about how you got the Goblins to assist as they are."
"I simply befriended them and asked for help, the amount they decided to give was entirely up to them."
"I told him as much," Dumbledore said. "I don't think he is able to comprehend how any wizard can befriend them as you have, but he is grateful just the same."
"I'm sure he is," Mage said. Dumbledore noticed it was taking Mage some effort to keep his eyes open.
"Mage, go to bed. Even over the mirror I can see how tired you are. I don't think the goblins would be very happy with me if they thought I let you make yourself sick. And I shudder to think what Poppy would do to me."
"Very well. I was hoping to avoid Hermit's care a little longer though," Mage said.
"Alas, some things cannot be avoided," Dumbledore said, before giving a departing nod. "Rest well, Mage. We are a formation of defenders."
Next part: In the Eye of the Storm
A/N: The next part will involve a small leap in time and be the last part to bk 3, since I don't care to give extensive details on the following days after the attacks, just so you all know.
