Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

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

"In the face of adversity greatness shines brightest"

Chapter 17 – The Three Guides

Professor Ryan Rolleston was the first teacher to arrive in the second year boys' dormitory after Mars had gone off to seek help. He locked the door behind him to prevent curious Gryffindor eyes from seeing what was going on. His first response to seeing Albus standing in the midst of tattered books and torn sheets was to raise his eagle-owl eyebrows to the ceiling and pull on his graying beard. He then adjusted his half-moon spectacles and peered down at Albus with a look of grave concern.

'There is no damage to your person, I hope,' Professor Rolleston said with his smooth voice.

'No sir,' Albus said miserably. 'But everything else …'

'I can see that,' Professor Rolleston said, stepping over the spine of A Better Way to Transfigure and taking a better look around. 'This happened whilst you were all down at the Second Task, I presume?'

'Yes sir,' Albus said. He bit the inside of his cheek. 'Grindelwald Grundelwald did this; the white-eyed little brother of Jannes Grundelwald.'

'That is a bold assertion,' Professor Rolleston said. He crouched down in front of Albus and took hold of his shoulder, gazing deep into Albus' eyes with his own black eyes. 'That boy is barely ten years of age, and I hardly imagine anyone would believe that he is capable of such an act. He would have had to hoodwink the Fat Lady.'

'He could have overheard the password,' Albus insisted. 'He is a very good wizard! I have felt the power of his wand already! There was that occasion in the Forbidden Forest during the First Task where we both knocked each other unconscious…'

Albus was pleading with Professor Rolleston, urging him to believe what he knew to be true.

'I maintain that it is a bold assertion,' Professor Rolleston said. 'I am not deliberately trying to thwart your attempt to find recompense for what has been done to you. I am merely providing the attitude that you will face if you try to bring this claim to light.'

'You have to …' Albus began, but realized mid-sentence that he did not understand what had been said to him. He said, 'what … what do you mean, sir?'

'I mean to say that Admiral Scholtz or any other authority to whom you raise the suggestion that Grindelwald Grundelwald is to blame for this will rubbish it,' Professor Rolleston said gravely. 'I am afraid to conclude that we may never locate the perpetrator of this offence, and I am going to have to consider improving Gryffindor's security.'

Albus felt like hitting Professor Rolleston in the face. Not out of anger at his Housemaster, per se; rather, Albus was furious that, for the second time that year, the Germans were going to get away with something because nobody would believe the word of a twelve year-old boy. Perhaps sensing Albus' distress, Professor Rolleston's eyes softened and he ushered Albus towards his bed to take a seat.

'Your father should be here shortly,' Professor Rolleston said kindly, 'as he is busy completing his duties as Triwizard judge, as is Professor Prewett. Would you like me to send your friends up from the celebrations with some Butterbeer and chocolate to cheer you up?'

'No,' Albus said dully, rubbing his eyes where the tears were still leaking out.

Professor Rolleston stepped back, a strange look of amusement on his face. He seemed to be thinking about whether or not it would be appropriate to do something else for the woebegone boy in front of him. He seemed to reach the conclusion that it would.

'Cacophanae comis!' chanted Professor Rolleston. A jolt of yellow flashed from his wand and hit Albus in the chest. Within moments Albus was clutching his sides, laughing at the top of his lungs.

'No, it isn't funny!' insisted Albus, 'I beg you to stop, sir! I do not wish to laugh at this time! Oh, please do not make me laugh!'

'Tarantallegra!' cried Professor Rolleston. Suddenly Albus had the curious sensation of dancing uncontrollably, still streaming tears from a bizarre mix of being upset and wanting to laugh like a hyena.

Archaeon Dumbledore burst through the door to be met with a most curious sight. His son was dancing and laughing uncontrollably while his room lay in tatters, every possession of his in ruin.

'Finitum,' said Professor Rolleston, bringing his spells to an abrupt end. He turned to address Archaeon and said, 'Archaeon, my friend, your boy found his room in this state. I apologise for the hilarity, I was in the process of cheering him up.'

'Naturally you were,' Archaeon said, nodding at the Charms teacher. He strode up to Albus, taking him in a hug. Albus buried his face in Archaeon's massive chestnut-grey beard.

'Grindelwald did this,' Albus sobbed into his father's chest. 'He was not at the Second Task, I noticed. He did this because he was looking for the Everlasting Flame. I cannot do this anymore, father! I am afraid for the lives of my friends now! I am afraid for me! I am a target because I have the Orb, and I do not even know where the Flame is! Please stop this from happening to me!'

Albus had let it all out in a rush. It was a spectrum of fears and concerns that he had not yet had the ability to admit to himself, but in the light of his possessions being ravished, his emotions spilled over and his true feelings became apparent. Albus was, for the first time in his life, genuinely afraid of someone; namely, Grindelwald. Yet in the arms of the great Archaeon Dumbledore he felt as though his feet were on solid rock, and even the specter of Grindelwald was somewhat diminished.

'Alas, my boy,' Archaeon said, pulling Albus away and crouching down to face him as Professor Rolleston had done, 'how I wish it were possible to extricate you from this dilemma. However, it is impossible. Phineas Nigellus already covets your death out of bitterness for last year, whilst the Grundelwald brothers have seen great power in your eyes. Even if I were to hand the Everlasting Flame to our enemies and call for a truce, you would remain a target.'

'What am I supposed to do then, father?' Albus wept.

'Demonstrate the courage expected from a Gryffindor,' said Professor Rolleston unexpectedly. Albus half expected Archaeon to tell Professor Rolleston to be silent, but he did not.

'I agree with Ryan,' Archaeon said simply. 'As I have said thrice before, you are well protected here at Hogwarts …'

'How then do you explain the state of my room?' cried Albus. 'He destroyed my Caerphilly Catapults uniform, and Fawkes' stand, and A Better Way to Transfigure! If I were protected, then why has this happened?'

'These are items that are easily replaced,' Archaeon said. 'You still remain in possession of the Orb, the ankh and the Eye of Horus locket?'

'Yes, father,' Albus said.

'Then all is well,' Archaeon said. 'Your life is under protection by the locket and the ankh, not to mention those whose eyes watch out for you. And there is an even greater protection placed on you, one of which I cannot mention to you, so you have nothing to fear.'

'But I wish it to end,' Albus said. 'How many kidnappings and attacks must I endure before people will believe my side of the story? For how long must I play pariah whilst the Germans seek to steal the Everlasting Flame? When will this end?'

'As far as I can foretell,' Archaeon said carefully, 'and not being a Seer I cannot claim to have perfect foresight, not that any of them have perfect foresight either; I suspect that matters will come to a head at the end of the Third Task.'

'Does the Third Task have something to do with the Everlasting Flame?' asked Albus, desperately, almost frantic with desire that he be rid of the blight that was this Flame that he had never seen but could only dream of.

'I do not wish to reveal too much,' Archaeon said, exchanging an odd look with Professor Rolleston, 'seeing as you have been a close assistant of young Thomas. However, I wish for you to sleep fearlessly tonight. I will have a new copy of A Better Way to Transfigure, new Caerphilly Catapults robes and a new stand for Fawkes delivered in the morning.'

Archaeon proceeded to vanish the debris lying across Albus' floor, but Albus had just begun to register something that had failed to cross his mind since he walked in on the carnage in his room. Fawkes.

'Where is Fawkes?' Albus cried. 'What if Grindelwald murdered him?'

'Your phoenix is perfectly well,' Archaeon said calmly. 'Besides the fact that Grindelwald could Avada Kedavra Fawkes until he was blue in the face, and he could disperse the ashes as far as he cared to; without doing the slightest damage to that bird; I am quite confident Fawkes vanished in time to avoid such a pointless exercise.'

For the second time Albus felt like lashing out, this time at his father. He could scarce believe that Archaeon could remain so infuriatingly calm during a time of immense crisis in his life. Were Albus' life a building, he could easily imagine all four walls tumbling down at the moment. Archaeon saw how distressed his son was, or perhaps his Legilimency allowed him to understand the way Albus felt, because he cast a spell on Albus which made his eyelashes heavy. He yawned loudly and within seconds had tumbled backwards into the comfort of his bed and fallen asleep.

The morning following was a Sunday, so the other nine Pirates were grouped around Albus' bed with wide eyes when he woke up. The moment he stirred, Victoria threw her arms around him. Albus had to push her away in order to breathe and take stock of his surroundings. He sat up to greet the expectant and sorry faces of his friends. A quick glance at his trunk revealed it empty of possessions. Archaeon had removed everything, which meant that everything would have to be replaced. All Albus had left were the robes he had fallen asleep in and the three possessions secretly concealed in his pockets.

'How are you feeling this morning?' asked Victoria, her dark eyes full of sympathy.

'As though I have had a pleasant night's sleep,' Albus said. He neglected to mention that he had not dreamed of the Everlasting Flame; the first time in months that it had not occupied his dreams. But Albus knew this to be the product of Archaeon's sleeping spell. He added, 'but waking up to the realization that Grindelwald Grundelwald destroyed my belongings and is to get away with it brings me down to earth with a thump.'

'Plenty of rumours have been going around,' Alabastor said, frowning, 'but this is the first we have heard of Grindelwald. He is only ten years old, how could he have done this?'

'That is what Professor Rolleston said,' Albus grumbled. He explained how he had noticed Grindelwald's absence at yesterday's Second Task, and connected the look Grindelwald had given him in Phineas Nigellus' dark tower during his kidnapping. Once Albus had finished speaking the Pirates were left in no doubt about Grindelwald's guilt.

'That beastly little German,' Victoria snarled. 'If I were to get hold of him, I'd poke out those ghastly white eyes!'

'That is precisely the opposite of what I would like,' Albus said. 'I fear for you, because …' here Albus paused, wondering if he could spare himself the embarrassment of revealing to the Pirates that Admiral Scholtz had probed his thoughts and discovered his feelings for Victoria. He relented and said, '…because Grindelwald knows that I like you, and he would hurt you if he could. He is a very strong wizard for a ten year-old.'

'No ten year-old could beat Albus Dumbledore in a duel, I'd be prepared to wager,' said Mars loyally.

'I would relish a duel with him,' Albus said.

'What if we Pirates could put our skulls together and conjure up a means of getting at that pesky little creature?' suggested Alabastor hopefully. 'Better yet, we could uncover proof that he is behind this.'

'Alas, my friend,' Albus said, 'I had proof of my kidnapping and the Minister for Magic would not believe me. Even the most lucid proof would fail to convince people that our German guests have nefarious plans underfoot. Let us cast aside any plans to prove anything. I want to focus on my schoolwork, if that is possible.'

'How can you focus on schoolwork after Grindelwald did this to you?' cried William, almost scandalized.

'I am not the vengeful sort, I have decided,' Albus said. 'I do not wish to grow up to be like Phineas Nigellus; rather, I wish to grow up like my father, who never avenges anything.'

'Albus, you are remarkable,' Emily said. 'My grandmother Griselda, she of OWL and NEWT examination fame, is the wisest person I know. But there are times when you seem almost as wise, and you are only twelve.'

Albus flushed red and shook his head.

'All I wish for is to be a boy quietly undergoing his education,' Albus said. 'Now have I slept through breakfast, or is there yet hope of gaining a piece of toast or two?'

'It is almost lunch,' Victoria said, 'which is actually why we are all crowded around your bed. We were going to wake you up to see the Tournament announcement.'

'What announcement?' asked Albus.

'A message was sent around the Houses this morning,' Victoria explained. 'It would seem that those little eggs the Champions collected have some significance for the Third Task, and the judges will be announcing something important at lunch.'

'I had better be getting up then, hadn't I?' Albus quipped. His friends were buoyed by the apparently cheerful manner in which he was dealing with his ruined room, and general laughter accompanied them down to the Great Hall. Albus was oblivious to the looks that followed him, for Hogwarts' ability to disperse gossip within hours of anything happening within the walls was as good as ever. Albus held his confident stride through the Great Hall for two reasons; first, he genuinely wished to forget what had happened, but he also wished to show Grindelwald and the other Black Forest School of Magical Arts people that he would not bow to their attacks. During the night Professor Rolleston's words had seeped into his conscience. He was showing deliberate courage.

The students of Hogwarts and of the two visiting schools ate lunch before any announcement was made. Albus kept looking at Archaeon at the staff table, trying to draw strength from the power emanating from his father. He diverted his eyes from the Black Forest School of Magical Arts pupils, most of which sat with Slytherin. He was interested to notice that several sat with Ravenclaw, whilst the Moskva Academy students had managed to distribute themselves almost evenly between the four Houses. He almost had to do a double-take when he saw that the gorgeous blonde Anastacia Volkova was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Thomas Jones at the Gryffindor table. Now what was happening there …

'Good afternoon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,' boomed the voice of Archaeon Dumbledore. Albus' head jerked back to the front, where his father was standing behind the podium, wearing a brilliant blue robe that clashed appropriately with his auburn hair. Archaeon went on, 'and greetings to the students of Moskva Academy and of the Black Forest School of Magical Arts. It is my very great pleasure to announce the nature of the Third Task, just a day after the Second. Could we please have the three Champions to the front?'

Thomas and Anastacia walked up from the Gryffindor table, shoulders still touching conspicuously, while Jannes Grundelwald lurched over from the Slytherin table. Albus shuddered at the sight of him. He managed to avoid eye contact with the little boy Jannes left behind at the Slytherin table. It was then that it occurred to Albus that Grindelwald was probably a student of the Black Forest School, despite only being ten. How else could one explain his near constant presence amidst the other, older students? Unless of course Jannes Grundelwald commanded such respect that he could have his younger brother along at all times.

'Very good,' Archaeon said; arms spread wide as if to welcome the three Champions to the front. 'Have you your Guides?'

The fact that all three Champions produced the egg-shaped objects that they had obtained in the maze yesterday made it clear to the audience that these were the Guides Archaeon was referring to.

'Exponento cartum!' cried Archaeon, casting a spell at the Guides. Suddenly the ceiling of the Great Hall was filled with a vast and panoramic image, full of rich golden, yellow and brown tones. It appeared to be a multi-layered map, filled with hundreds of labels in at least five different scripts, so far as Albus could see. There was no doubt that some of the writing was in Egyptian hieroglyphic, but there were other languages there too, of which Albus lacked knowledge. Images were prominent through-out the map, and Albus' eyes were sharp enough to pick out what looked like the Pyramids at Giza in one portion of the map. The entire Great Hall was speechless at this wondrous display, hundreds of necks craned upward to see the multi-layered map. That was until it disappeared with a single spell from Archaeon. Everyone let out a sigh, as though the life had been temporarily taken out of them.

'That, my dear audience and Champions,' Archaeon said happily, as though you could see such a thing every day, 'is the Map required to win the Third Task. However, as the more astute among you might have realized, it required the three Guides to create. Each of the Champions possesses one of these Guides, and therefore is only able to access a portion of the Map. Now, as the standings go, Master Jones of Hogwarts is the clear leader, and as a reward for his excellent start, he will be receiving assistance of some kind during the Task. What that assistance is, I cannot say, for it would be revealing too much to the other Champions. They too will be receiving assistance at some point in the Task, but this will be proportionally less due to their lower place in the Tournament standings.'

'What are we searching for?' asked Jannes Grundelwald, a little presumptively Albus thought.

'The Third and final Task commences now and finishes in one hundred days exactly,' Archaeon said, clearly trying to drag out the dramatic announcement. Everyone was sitting on the edge of their seats, but Albus half knew the answer already. Archaeon said, 'so the Champions have one hundred days to use their portion of the Map to track down something very powerful. It is an object of legend, an object that wizards and witches have yearned to grasp hold of for centuries.'

'Tell us already!' yelled Aberforth from the audience.

'Impatience noted, son of mine,' Archaeon said, smiling wryly. 'The Champions of the Triwizard Tournament have one hundred days to find … the Everlasting Flame.'

Author's Note – thank you to those who keep reviewing. I hope you are enjoying the steady influx of chapters. Happy Easter to one and to all.