Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a fan fiction based on worlds created by JK Rowling

"Knowledge is learned, wisdom is earned"

Author's Note: thanks to those who reviewed. I won't ask for reviews again if I can help it. I suppose it's the nature of the insecure author to seek approval all the time! Someone raised a point about how Snape's magical ancestry is Prince, not Snape. Well, if you look back at "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather", I introduced Swarbrick Snape. That was written before "Half Blood Prince" came out, so you cannot blame me for that mistake. But from now on Swarbrick Snape will simply be a Slytherin who may or may not be distantly related to the muggle Tobias Snape who had a son called Severus. I do not wish to oppose canon, but it was not my fault because "Half Blood Prince" came out after I wrote my first Albus Dumbledore fic.

Chapter 13 – Quidditch Mayhem

The day following Christmas, Archaeon paid a visit to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory at the rather early hour of five. When he flung Albus' curtains aside and put the glowing tip of his wand right in Albus' face, Albus woke with a start, grasping the air as if trying to catch something invisible.

'I had it … it was there …' Albus was mumbling to himself, before the great bearded figure of his father swam into view. Albus sat bolt upright. 'Father, what … why are you here?'

'Taking you for instruction,' Archaeon said. He had a mildly curious look on his bronzed face. 'What, precisely, were you just about to capture in your dream?'

'I … I cannot recall,' Albus said, scratching his head. He knew that he had been within reach of something, something that had featured in his dreams throughout the year. But he could never quite remember what it was. The glowing tip of Archaeon's wand had burst through his eyelashes like a beam of light and ruptured his dream at the very moment of victory. Now Albus sat in his bed feeling strangely deflated.

'Up you get, boy,' Archaeon said, rising to his feet. The great wizard was wearing a shimmering blue robe today, tied with a golden rope around the waist. He wore a matching blue wizard's hat over his greying auburn hair. Archaeon wandered over to Fawkes' stand and stroked the crooning phoenix whilst Albus got into his black school robes. Archaeon mused out loud, 'I recall many a night spent dreaming in this room. Ah, young was I then, and old am I now.'

'You're not old, father,' Albus said, locating his wand amid the shambles of parchment on his trunk.

'Perhaps not ancient,' Archaeon said, 'like the relics I dig up, but I am getting on in years. Coming back here reminds me of a youth long forgotten. Now follow me, we are going to the transfiguration class today. Leon permitted me the use of it.'

Albus and Archaeon made their way down the stairwell, across the dimly lit Gryffindor common room and through the portrait hole. Once they were in the solitary calm of the corridors, only the sound of their shoes clicking on the cobbled stone, Albus exulted in the warmth that exuded from his father. It may have been the middle of winter, with icy draughts licking at his heels, but in the presence of Archaeon, Albus felt nothing but warmth and comfort.

Archaeon held the door to the transfiguration class open and Albus entered ahead of him. Professor Bones covered his walls with tapestries painted with scenes from historic moments of wizard-kind, but in the dim morning light before sunrise, these looked dark and foreboding. Archaeon swept his arm around the room and all the torch brackets lit up with dazzling yellow flames. He made all the chairs and table relocate to the walls, giving them a large open space to work with. But before they started to do anything, Archaeon checked the entire room for detection spells and performed a sound-blocking charm on all the doors, windows and walls.

'Do you have with you your most precious possessions?' Archaeon asked.

'No,' Albus replied, 'and neither can I tell you where they are.'

'You do not know where you hid them?' said Archaeon.

'No, I do not,' said Albus, 'but I know which portrait to ask in order to find them again. I could show you if you wish.'

'That won't be necessary,' Archaeon said. 'I will test the strength of your magic. Legilimens!'

Albus felt the unusual sensation of his thoughts being probed. He had a fleeting moment of fear that Archaeon would discover his deep feelings for Victoria, but this fear was quickly dispelled when he realised that Archaeon was such a powerful Legilimens that he only found what he wanted to find in someone else's mind. Albus could see the portrait of Albion Dumbledore in his head, and he could see himself climbing into the portrait to fetch his belongings. But the vision did not stop there. Albus knew this was in his head, but he could have sworn that his body felt like it was inside the portrait. Now Albion, the painted old figure with the familiar blue eyes, was opening his mouth to speak …

'In your pockets, boy …'

Albus felt the weight of several items pressing against his leg in the pocket of his robes. The moment he felt it, he realised that they had been there all along. Albus had been carrying them for months. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the shiny Orb of Duality, the sapphire ankh and the protective Eye of Horus locket. They were all there, and had been since he hid them. Albus looked up at Archaeon with a kind of awe that he reserved for nobody but his father in moments like these.

'How did you do that?' he asked. 'How did you make me climb into the portrait when we have been in the Transfiguration room all along?'

'The spell you used to hide your belongings simply masked the memory,' Archaeon explained. 'I simply had to manipulate your thoughts to think that you were visiting the portrait and you remembered the secret. Any wizard capable of Legilimency could have done that.'

'But who would do that to me? Who would want to steal those things from me?' Albus said. He had received letters of warning from his father before, but now that he had him in person, he wanted to hear the words from Archaeon's mouth.

'Use your common sense,' Archaeon said. 'All those who suffered as a result of your victory over Imhotep and the disgracing of Phineas Nigellus, namely Phineas himself; and some of his powerful cronies at the Ministry.'

'Are you suggesting that Minister Wilberforce could be after me?' Albus said, hardly believing the suggestion.

'I am not ruling it out,' Archaeon said grimly. 'But I think our attentions should also be focussed upon our Russian and German guests. Do not be fooled by the pretence that this Triwizard Tournament is about international magical cooperation. Both those Headmasters are trying to extract as much information about British magic as they can while they are here. We cannot trust them, the Germans in particular.'

'In that case, what about Jannes Grundelwald?' said Albus.

'Entirely possible, yes,' Archaeon said. 'Although before you suggest it, I am quite certain that the white-eyed boy Grindelwald is incapable of Legilimency at this time.'

'Oh I know that he can't,' Albus said. 'When I met him in the Forbidden Forest, we were both trying to probe each other's minds, but it was just a tickling feeling that I felt, not like when you climbed into my head.'

'Interesting,' Archaeon said, tugging upon his beard. 'I was not expecting you to be ready for Legilimency just yet. In that case, I may be able to arrange for you to have lessons in Legilimency and Occlumency, the art of blocking intrusion to your thoughts; next year.'

'Really?' exclaimed Albus, thrilled at the prospect. He was more excited by the approving smile that Archaeon gave him. Achieving the approval of his great father meant a great deal to Albus.

'Yes, I think that you will be ready by then,' Archaeon said, ruffling Albus' hair. 'But for the time being, we must concentrate on safely guarding those objects, in such a manner that nobody can connive to steal their whereabouts from you.'

'But I was so proud of the Portrait Gatekeeper spell,' Albus said.

'And I am proud that you succeeded in making it work,' Archaeon said, 'for it is a most challenging spell. But do not feel at a loss, because we may yet be able to make use of that spell in our plans to deceive our enemies.'

'What do you mean to say?' asked Albus.

'I believe that we can hide some objects of lesser value using the Portrait Gatekeeper spell,' Archaeon said, 'and thereby mislead our enemies. If any of them tries to steal your secret from you by probing your thoughts, they will be taken to the portrait and those objects.'

'But what will come of the real objects,' Albus asked, 'the Eye, the Orb and the ankh? Can I not just leave them in your possession? They would be much better protected in your care.'

'That they would,' Archaeon said, 'but do you not see my plans? I would have thought you would have been astute enough to realise that I am the target of our enemies, far more than you. With due respect, no dark wizard would take pride in defeating a twelve year old student, but our enemies would love to see me fall. As I am a target, these things are better off in your care.'

'But you said that I am a target myself,' Albus said.

'A target of revenge for Phineas Nigellus,' Archaeon said, 'but I doubt any of them can know what you possess. That is why I gave the protective Eye of Horus locket to you at the commencement of the year.'

Albus paused for a moment to think very carefully. Something was dawning on him.

'At the start of the year,' Albus said slowly, 'I had the sapphire ankh, which was one of many and surely not that special, and I had the Eye of Horus locket. It was you who took the Orb of Duality off me before you knew what it was. So at the start of the year, I had nothing that would interest these enemies. Did you know what the Orb was from the beginning?'

'Of course I did,' Archaeon said, smiling at his son's problem solving skills. 'I am a widely travelled wizard and I have long known of the Orb and its powers. I took it off you because I had to determine why Fawkes brought it to you, and I had to decide what to do with it. Eventually I realised that you were the person best placed to keep it. Mind you, both the ankh and the locket are fairly significant possessions too, and I am certain that someone like Grundelwald would not mind procuring them as well.'

'But why must I have all these things?' Albus wondered. 'Why do I have to be responsible for items that must be hidden from all these bad people? Are you putting me in danger, father?'

'I am not putting you in any position greater than you can handle,' Archaeon said. 'It is vital that you understand this. You cannot yet understand what part you have to play in proceedings. It is not something I can explain to you at this time. All you need to know is that the Orb, the Eye of Horus and the ankh belong to you, and must be protected by you. And thus we arrive at our task for today. I am going to teach you a spell of concealment that none but you can break.'

'But what if someone puts me under the Imperius curse?' Albus said. He could feel the panic rising in his throat like bile. Suddenly he felt like he was the centre of the world, with a million eyes trained on him. Being the sole protector of items that Archaeon Dumbledore deemed to be important; made him feel out of his depth. He was not ready for such responsibility.

'You are allowing yourself to fall prey to your fears,' Archaeon said. 'Do not be weak. May I remind you that there are others in this place that has your protection at heart? They would all die before letting you succumb to an Imperius curse. Now, let us commence our lesson on concealment spells. It is imperative that you learn this spell before we depart Hogwarts for this Quidditch match.'

'What, could I be attacked there?' asked Albus in a decidedly shaky voice.

'It is unlikely,' Archaeon said, 'but possible. Nevertheless put it out of your mind so we can commence.'

Albus tried his very best but could not completely displace the uneasy feeling that came to rest inside his stomach during his lesson with Archaeon. His father was an instructor of the highest quality, however, and it crossed Albus' mind on numerous occasions that Archaeon would have made an exceptional Professor at Hogwarts. This made the privilege of being Archaeon Dumbledore's son ever the more apparent.

The spell Archaeon chose to teach Albus was derived from Archaeon's intensive studies of Egyptology, as he explained during the lesson. It was known as the Amon-hen, and the reverse spell was the Amon-nu. As Archaeon explained, the word Amon meant 'conceal', the word hen confirmed it, and the word nu meant to 'undo'. The Amon-hen was such a complex spell that a Legilimens would not simply be able to reach into Albus' head and find the hidden objects. Albus could not understand why, but he supposed that Archaeon should be seen to be more reliable than a book given to him by Aberforth entitled A Guide to Magical Secret Keeping!

It took Albus the whole morning, and by lunchtime he was positively drooling out of hunger. But Archaeon was using the prize of food as a reward mechanism to keep his son at the task at hand. Shortly after twelve o'clock, Albus succeeded in correctly performing the Amon-hen and the counter-spell Amon-nu three times in succession.

'Amon-hen,' Albus chanted, twirling his wand three times counter-clockwise with his entire arm making a snake like movement. A jet of gold shot out of the tip and encircled the Orb, the Eye of Horus and the ankh. The objects glowed brighter for a moment, and then faded until they were invisible. Yet, as though these things were an extension of Albus' body, he knew where they were and was able to pick them up and place them in his pockets. Archaeon attempted Legilimency on Albus and declared himself satisfied that the knowledge of these objects was irretrievable, thanks to the power of the Amon-hen, and finally Albus pulled out the objects and brought them back into focus with the Amon-nu.

'Exceptionally well done,' Archaeon said, clapping Albus on the shoulder. 'My work here is done. Perform the Amon-hen one more time, and leave the objects hidden until such a time as you need them. Right now, I feel we are both in need of a five course luncheon in the Great Hall.'

Albus had never agreed more with his father. He concealed the objects once more, placed them in his pocket and followed Archaeon down to lunch.

A few days after Albus had learned to hide his possessions with the Amon-hen, Archaeon got him to hide a broken Bludger, a tattered text book and a scummy sock with the Portrait Gatekeeper, as a ruse to distract anyone who might attempt to search the depths of Albus' mind. Thereafter it was time to attend the Quidditch Match between Albus' beloved Caerphilly Catapults and the championship-topping Haversfield Hawks.

Archaeon had arranged for a thestral-drawn carriage to meet them at the gates of Hogwarts. Lubo was dressed in a radiant white gown and Archaeon in his luminescent blue. Mars wore his black school robes, as did Victoria and Aberforth. It had apparently been Lubo's idea to invite Victoria, something that Albus was painfully shy about. Albus himself was wearing his Caerphilly Catapults uniform. Though the vertical scarlet and light green stripes did not match his blue eyes and auburn hair, Albus thought he looked quite spiffing in his reflection on the carriage windows. He shuffled into a seat next to Mars and Victoria, but tried not to look too comfortable next to her given that his parents were sitting directly opposite him in the carriage. As with all magical forms of transportation, the carriage appeared tiny from the outside but was most spacious within, and a warm and cozy atmosphere within replaced the icy winds outdoors.

'Are you all ready to depart?' Archaeon inquired. When everyone nodded ascension, Archaeon tapped his wand on the window and the carriage lifted off into the air. He beamed at everyone in the compartment and said, 'now, who cares for a little night music whilst we take in the white winter from the air?'

There was to be no arguing with Archaeon Dumbledore, and soon a string quartet of musical house elves appeared in the corner of the cabin and started playing a haunting yet strangely familiar strain.

'Ah, classical music,' Archaeon said, interlocking his fingers over his lap and closing his eyes as if in paradise. 'One of the muggles' greatest inventions.'

'Muggles did this?' Victoria said, a touch too haughtily for Albus' liking. He nudged her fiercely, prompting her to frown at him and then retreat into a confused silence. Albus wondered why the feelings were racing through him, but somehow everything Victoria was doing presently irked him. He could not reconcile the fact that he was simply nervous about her in his parents' presence.

Fortunately Mars, who launched into the most avid diatribe Albus had ever heard from him, interrupted Albus' confused thoughts. This was the most Albus had ever heard from his placid friend, but when it came to the subject of Quidditch…

'I absolutely love it,' Mars expounded. 'Whensoever my parents were preoccupied, I would sneak off down the road to the local Quidditch field, where the older kids would play. One of them is now Alphonso Redpath, the Seeker for the Haversfield Hawks … you know we live near Haversfield, so this is something of a Dumbledore versus McGonagal encounter, wouldn't you say?'

'It sounds that way,' Albus said, smiling.

'I will let you in on a truly fascinating secret,' Mars said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. Naturally Aberforth leaned in closer, the better to hear. Mars went on, building up tension in his voice, 'it is little known, and few have aught heard of it. As a matter of fact, only three people alive have yet to hear of it. Two have had their minds befuddled by Imperius curses, and I am the sole person with more than three nuts in my skull and the knowledge of this secret.'

Albus was virtually bursting with curiosity. Suddenly Archaeon let out an inexplicable guffaw.

'What is so funny, father?' Albus cried. 'And Mars, won't you just tell me the secret already?'

'The benefits of Legilimency, my son,' Archaeon said, still chuckling. Albus grabbed Mars by the shoulder and demanded that he reveal the secret.

'Very well,' Mars said heavily. 'The secret is … Haversfield will beat Caerphilly today by one hundred and eighty to ten.'

'That's … that's not a secret … that's a blatant fiction!' Albus exploded. Archaeon burst out in guffaws again as Mars and Albus wrestled to the floor of the carriage, both forgetting what it was they were fighting about and rejoicing in the opportunity to play the fool as boys so willingly do.

When, at last, they were seated again and had straightened their robes, Archaeon had his eyes closed again and was concentrating on the classical music, but Lubo was watching Albus with a slight smile on her serene face.

'You never told me that you loved Quidditch so passionately,' Albus said to Mars. 'In fact, barely do you ever speak of it.'

'That is purely out of habit,' Mars said. 'At home I wouldn't dare speak of it, for fear of being caught sneaking out of the house to watch the players on the Quidditch pitch. And at Hogwarts … I suppose there are always better things to talk about than Quidditch.'

'Better things than Quidditch of which to speak?' Albus exclaimed. 'You jest me!'

'Oh, boys,' Victoria snorted.

'Oh, boys,' Aberforth parried, putting on a high pitched squeal. Lubo jolted him with a spell from her wand and Victoria simultaneously hit him with a bat bogey hex. For the second time that evening the carriage rocked with laughter as Aberforth screeched and howled over the sound of the violins, his nose a factory of little winged bats.

Eventually the Dumbledore carriage touched down outside a rickety wooden Quidditch stand, to the side of a pitch slated with ice. They were at the home of the Haversfield Hawks, which, as Mars explained, was short of a mile from where his parents lived, although he doubted they would make an appearance at a mid-winter Quidditch match. As they marched up the stairs into the stand, the wood creaking ominously about them, Albus wondered if the stand could hold one person, let alone a few hundred onlookers at a Quidditch match.

The Dumbledores had procured tickets in the uppermost seats of the stand, where Lubo conjured a radiant blue flame to keep their hands warm and a bubble around them all to keep out the icy wind. As the Haversfield Hawks took flight (to cheers from Mars and almost everyone else in the stand), followed by the Caerphilly Catapults in their striped crimson and green, Albus shivered for them. The wind was carrying across streams of icy rain or snow in sheets. It was sleeting and the howl of the wind caused the planks of the stand in which they stood creak and groan.

'… wonderful start by the Hawks, Chaser Donnelly scores to put them ten-nil up after a few minutes,' cried the commentator.

'What did I forecast,' Mars said, beaming.

'You speak in haste,' Albus said, 'for the Catapults have the spirit of Dangerous Dai Llewellyn in their blood, they shall not go down quietly!'

'You boys are ridiculous,' Victoria said, but she was grinning and cheering as loudly as any.

'You boys are…' Aberforth began, but he was cut short by a sudden jolt that struck all of them off their balance, even Archaeon. A horrendous creaking noise was followed by a snap and then Albus was falling. Planks were flying past him and there were arms and legs and screaming and now his face was hit by an icy jet of wind and…

Albus felt a strong arm grip him around his wrist. He opened his eyes and looked into the grim and square-jawed face of Jannes Grundelwald. Grundelwald opened his mouth and said:

'Accio Portkey.'

Author's Note: Enjoy. I will hopefully update this weekend.