Chapter 4: Zombie

(Inspiration for this chapter was provided by: The Cranberries – Zombie. For music lovers I highly recommend!)

(Harry Potter)

He was floating in an abyss. Nothing and yet everything was real. His life was like a foggy and detached dream. Harry Potter knew who he was but...was content to just...float forever. He also knew that something was wrong and that he should care.

This brought some measure of control to his lazy mind. He forced his eyes open. The beauty before him was astounding. It was the night sky. Light clouds spread over the area but the brilliant stars and moon were very shiny and visible.

He had no sense of times as clouds passed by. The white moon was like ecstasy to his wandering gaze. In that moment, he knew love in its purest form. Harry Potter loved the beautiful night sky and had a renewed thirst for life. He would do anything to be able to enjoy this scene forever.

Wind blew the hair around his neck into a small frenzy and a shiver ran up his spine. He spun around...Only to find himself miles above a gigantic city.

He froze. The insanity of the situation sharpened his foggy mind. People cannot fly! The second this entered his mind wind began to whip at his face and he nearly wet himself. Harry Potter was now what he truly believed to be Heaven and Hell.

The loving moon beckoned him for a lover's embrace while the greedy earth pulled him towards the rapidly approaching steel and concrete buildings.

His heart ached as he realized that he would never be witness to such a beautiful sight ever again. Harry managed to turn in the air at the lost moment and catch a glimpse of the glowing moon.

The millisecond that he hit the ground a shape like that of a face was apparent in the moons shining beauty. Startling blue eyes pierced his before all went black once more.

Now you must find and reveal the truth to me.

Albus Dumbledore

An old man was slouched in a chair in a darkened room. To all appearances, he was asleep but one could clearly see the activity of his eyes even behind the closed lids. The expression of tired sorrow told of an old man whose past would forever haunt him.

(Flashback.)

He stood on a mound of scorched earth. Fires and bodies littered the earth as well as twisted and melted mounds of metal. Blood, smoke, and gunpowder twisted his gut as he wished such sharp senses as sight and smell to be dulled.

A great battle had just taken place and he was the victor if only in the sense that he survived. The boundary between the muggle and wizarding worlds had been shattered in this unholy place.

Soldiers in their murky green uniforms lay beside aurors in their dark red uniforms in great pools of blood. Witches and wizards lay everywhere among the muggles. Not far away from these piles there was always another. This time it was soldiers in gray uniforms and witches and wizards in black robes.

When one group fell another rose to replace it. This continued until both sides were exhausted of manpower and supplies and led Albus Dumbledore to where he now stood.

People form both sides moaned everywhere and he wished for nothing more than to help them. He may have chosen a side but that did not mean that his enemy was less than human.

Though he wished to help, he could do nothing but stare at the battlefield before him. On this very day he had fought...and he had killed. Today he had lost himself in that animal instinct that fueled soldiers and murderers. His sole purpose on this field had been revenge but he had been tricked into battle by those he had once thought friend.

When his rage had taken control he lost all coherent thought and now he stood in the remnants of that rage. Bodies surrounded him in a circle. He had killed them all in his fury. Enemy and ally, killed by his hand.

The slightly aged man's grief overcame him and he sank to his knees. He wept for those that died today and the one man that would still die by his hand.

(End flashback.)

He was jerked from his memories when the boy in front of him opened his eyes. Confused emerald met sad blue and silently asked for an explanation.

He lowered his eyes and gave a tired sigh. "Mr. Potter," he tried to say. All that came out was a barely discernable mister before tears began to slowly fall down his wrinkled face.

"Harry," he choked out. "Do you remember any of what transpired three days ago." He could barely keep his voice from trembling.

The boy nodded his head slightly and Dumbledore continued in an ever weaker voice. "Lord Voldemort struck you with a terrible curse, Harry."

"Twice in my lifetime have I seen it used…Once by my own hand." Dumbledore was visibly shaking now but it was clear that he was doing his best to stay strong as to not frighten the confused boy in front of him.

"Decades before your birth and the rise of our current problems there was another man who claimed the title of Dark Lord. You know him as the Dark Lord Grindewald but I knew him as friend and equal. "

Harry's eyes widened slightly but his curiosity had been roused and he simply nodded.

The old man gave a weak smile.

"He was not the madman that history paints him as being. Grindewald was my equal in almost every sense. Though he held some misguided beliefs about Purebloods. He did not believe himself superior as most did. His dislike of muggles and their sometimes magical children was from the changing of his culture. He held family pride and tradition closely to his heart."

Harry was held captive by the Headmaster as he had never heard much about his past.

"I do my best to make a long story short. Grindewald was manipulated by his fellow Purebloods into leading a radical group that held on goal above all others: They wished to eliminate all muggle influence of the wizarding world. He tried to make a legitimate effort into creating a society for Purebloods but his 'servants' quickly tired of his peaceful attempts. They began to threaten and attack all that opposed him and he was quickly labeled a menace to society…"

Harry gave him a quizzical look and tried to speak. Only to find that he had lost his voice.

"Rest, my boy." Harry closed his mouth but complied with the Professor's order.

"He was trapped in a very dangerous situation. No one believed him to be innocent and if he tried to prove otherwise then his followers would no doubt hunt him down. I did my best to help him but in the end he told me to forget about him and to stay away from him. I granted his request and severed all ties with the Ministry. I could not fight my best friend just as I know that he would never fight me. A few short weeks after our conversation I returned from my temporary self-exile and found that a war had begun. One of the more notorious of his followers saw me conversing with a ministry employee and assumed that I had sided with them. I returned home to find my house burning and my wife seemingly unharmed in the yard."

Dumbledore gave another weak smile at Harry's surprised look, though it quickly fell into a frown. "Few know that I was married as I led a private life. Weeks later she was frequently ill. I assumed she caught a passing sickness but as the days progressed she began to experience random magical accidents and was rapidly losing weight. Six months after the burning of my home my wife was confined to bed rest and ordered to perform no magic. She then began to mumble and say odd things and I though it some delirious fever. A month after this she had become a shell and her body began to die. She had been cursed," Dumbledore choked out. "It wasn't until later that I learned the truth."

"Grindewald came to me the day that I found her dead. He told me of the man who cursed her and I demanded to know what curse had been used. He told that she had been the target of an ancient spell that would curse its victim with a painful death. I had heard of many such curses and told him so. He pronounced the curse to me and my heart broke as I realized that my beloved's magic had consumed itself and her mind. I then told him that the next time that we meet would be the last."

"The next day I received word that the man who had cursed my wife would be in a location in which I could take advantage of. I quickly apparated away and found myself surrounded by aurors."

"It was a trick. I had been led to battle by the Ministry. As soon as I had arrived anti-apparation wards were placed and I had no choice than to fight my way out."

"The Dark Lord Grindewald had called out the Ministry and now I was about to help them fight my best friend. Soon afterwards the real fighting started. I watched as friend and foe fell beside of me and eventually I lost control. No one could even get close to me as I cast spell after spell. Finally, after what seems even to this day as years of fighting, I found him. The man who had caused my wife such prolonged agony. His screams haunt me still."

"Afterwards I was in a maddened frenzy. I struck out at everything in sight. Whether friend or foe they all fell by my hands," he said while staring into his wrinkled palms.

"Then I found him. My friend and companion of decades, the so-called Dark Lord. My presence shocked him. Then it all clicked," the sad old man exclaimed in an enlightened voice. "This man could have stopped everything from happening. I was enraged."

"Grindewald did not so much as raise his wand as I sent the same spell that had caused me such grief at him."

"I understand was all that he said. His face at that moment is ever present in my mind. That sad understanding smile and grief filled eyes."

"I never saw him again," Dumbledore said. "I blinked and he was gone."

"I'm dying," Harry stated simply as he locked green eyes with blue. The old man bowed his head in response.

AN: The plot thickens.

Tersios