Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Although it doesn't relate to this particular chapter much at all, it's something I want to say:
This chapter is dedicated to two lovely and strong girls: Esther Earl- August 3, 1994-August 25, 2010 and Natalie Yokeley- November 1, 1995- November 24, 2008. "Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy." ~Author Unknown
Chapter 4: Guilt and Thirst
Elphias caught up with Albus after his Ancient Runes class before lunch began. Together, as neither of them had class after lunch, they made there way to Gryffindor tower to drop off their book bags.
"Did you get your brother something?" Elphias asked, laying sideways across his bed and staring up at the wooden ceiling.
"Yes," he said, digging through his bag to find it. He took it out and showed it to Elphias. "I know his favorite color is blue. I like purple, myself, especially purple socks."
"At least I know what to get you for Christmas," Elphias said, nodding his approval at Albus's gift. "Socks! Who knew you'd be fond of them."
Albus chuckled, wrote a quick message saying, 'Happy Birthday, Aberforth. With love from your brother, Albus,' and stuck the book in his pocket to give to him during lunch.
"Have you talked to our time-traveler friend?" Elphias asked as Albus put the top back on the inkwell.
He nodded. "He has many questions. I have a feeling we'll be close in his time. I can't imagine way, though. I'm just under a hundred years older than him."
"Well, he seemed to know me, Albus."
With a sigh, Albus fell beside Elphias on his bed.
"He has a curse scar," said Albus. He lifted a hand to his forehead and traced the lightening-bolt shape as if he had the mark as well. "And, while we were in Hogsmeade today, I saw on the back of his hand," he trace the scar on his own, "there were the words 'I must not tell lies.'"
"What does that mean?"
"That is a good question. I can't help but wonder what other sorts of scars he has."
Albus stared at his own hand, clear of any blemishes. There wasn't even a mole marking the surface of his skin. I must not tell lies. Did that mean he hadn't told a lie yet? Did he learn his lesson to whatever punishment that caused those letters to be etched? And the scar on his forehead: Only powerful Dark Magic could have produced such a scar. He'd read about it in his studies with Merrythought and Flamel.
To him, it seemed quite contradictory that someone who couldn't tell lies, who claimed to be an Auror and seemed, in general, to be a good person from what he'd seen so far, would have such a thing as Dark Magic touch him.
"Could we go to lunch? I'm famished," Elphias said.
"You go on. I need to check something in the library."
"Should I bring you anything?"
Albus shook his head and the two left Gryffindor Tower, though Elphias left Albus at the library where he got permission to look through the Restricted Section.
He spent hours researching through the books he found on the shelves. Books such as Curses for the Cursed showed gruesome lithographs of people getting ripped apart without any hope of returning to their original state and went into detail about how curses worked- how they clung to the body of the marked forever.
Albus could feel the knot between his eyes as he read, but with each word forming into a sentence, he felt he was getting nowhere. He felt as if the words weren't helping him figure out what could have happened to Harry. It was like the Time-Turner book he'd read the night before. The books only showed him how things were created and how they worked specifically to creating the scar than what would happen to the person afterward. The books went into detail as if the curse were more like a machine than magic.
Eventually, Albus sent all the books back to the shelves and left the library in defeat. He needed more information about Harry, he realized as he was headed back toward the Tower. He couldn't just go into researching by only knowing that a scar existed on Harry. He had to know whether someone had done that to him or if he had done it to himself before he could effectively find the answer to how curses affected someone.
But, Albus told himself, he had other things to worry about, like getting Harry back to where he belonged.
The fire flickered across the Common Room, illuminating the only person still left inside. Aberforth sat on the maroon couch, his eyes fixed on the fireplace when Albus stepped in.
Albus sat down next to him and stared off into the flames as well. They danced and danced as if celebrating Aberforth's birthday for him.
Albus extracted the book from his robes and held it out after a few minutes. Aberforth looked down at it and slipped it out of Albus's grip. He opened it; his eyes moved across the page. He huffed, but Albus thought he could see a slight glimmer in his eye.
"Did Mum get you anything?"
He nodded and pulled out a watch from his pocket. It looked much like the one she'd gotten Albus for his seventeenth birthday, gold colored with stars lining the edges. "She gave it to me before we left. She said she was sorry that she gave it to me two years too early, but she wanted to make sure I got one from her."
Albus nodded. He knew his father hadn't left much money for them after he'd gone to Azkaban. Their mother didn't work, devoting her full time to Ariana. Albus felt his heart twist. Ariana would have been in third year and his father never would have died if those Muggle boys… but, no, he couldn't think of it.
"Thank you," Aberforth said.
"You're welcome."
"You got this today, didn't you?"
"Yes."
Aberforth turned back to the fire. It was a few minutes before either of the two brothers said anything.
"I miss Mum reading Beedle," said Aberforth, taking a piece of charcoal wrapped in string out of his pocket. He started sketching on the first page, his hand carefully making line after line. Albus, even though he could do a number of other things, wished he could draw. "She always got the voices right, you know?"
Albus nodded, thinking about how she used to read them the stories. Aberforth and him constantly fought over which she would read.
"No!" Albus could remember saying, taking the small book from Kendra Dumbledore's hands and flipping through it until he found the one that read 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' written in Ancient Runes. "This one!"
"But I wanted to hear Grumble!" Aberforth had cried out.
"Shh," Kendra said, shifting the year old Ariana in her arms. Albus could remember looking over his shoulder as his father laughed, the fire in the grate illuminating his face and causing his eyes to twinkle more than usual.
"Oh, Kendra," he said, falling cross-legged to the floor where the four sat. He snatched Aberforth in his arms. "Read them both."
"It's already late," She looked down at Ariana with concern. "Ariana is falling asleep!"
Percival shook his head. "Go on. Read Albus's first."
"But, Grumble-"
"Listen, Ab," Percival said softly, running a hand through his youngest son's hair. As Kendra began reading the Three Brothers, Albus took in every word and could remember it by heart even years later.
"Shall I tell them to you?" Albus asked Aberforth as he drew.
"Only if you've got the book with you."
Albus smiled. "I'll go get it if you're serious."
When Aberforth nodded, Albus jumped up to retrieve it from his trunk. He came back only to see him fast asleep. Rather than wake him, Albus fell on the couch beside him and read the stories until the fire died out and he was asleep as well.
He was in the library again after Charms with piles of books explaining curses. Except this time, it was for a homework assignment.
That morning in Defense, Harry made his first appearance as Merrythought's 'assistant'. Both seemed very serious that day. Merrythought's eyes were much darker than usual, and her lips pressed together tightly. No one talked as they came in to class, sensing the tone of the teacher. Dumbledore and Elphias sat in the desk closest to the front. Dumbledore caught Harry's eye. His lips twitched in a smile, but, he, too, didn't find whatever they were going to talk about funny at all.
The door fell closed. Merrythought surveyed the room. Behind her, Dumbledore noticed three glasses, each with a large spider living inside. "Unforgivable curses," Merrythought said and Dumbledore understood immediately. There was a ruffle in the room. "Since 1717, the Unforgivable curses have been banned by the Ministry of Magic. If anyone performs the curses on another, the consequence is a lifetime stay in Azkaban. This is for good reason. All three carry out some of the worst vices-" she cast a dark look around the room as if daring someone to use them right now- "Pain, power, and murder."
A shudder went through the room; her voice carried disdain.
"Today," she said, gesturing to Harry, "I have an assistant. He will be with us for the rest of the year to help me with classroom duties. His name is Harry Potter and he is well qualified in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now, who can tell me the first Unforgivable?"
Dumbledore raised his hand. He glanced around and noticed no one else had a hand up. Either they were too scared, judging by their faces, or they had no idea what they were.
"Yes, Mr. Dumbledore?"
"The Cruciatus Curse," he said quietly.
Merrythought gave a curt nod. "Yes, the Cruciatus curse," she said. "The pain curse. When cast, a strong one will cause the victim to convulse. He will thrash about, screaming from the pain. If it is cast too many times on one person in a short amount of time, it has the very real possibility of damaging the brain of the victim. Only a sadist would feel any pleasure from seeing another suffer."
She gestured to Harry. He looked up for a second, and then reached over to one of the jars. After he untwisted the cap, he pointed his wand down in the mouth. Dumbledore felt his heart skip a beat as Harry sharply said, "Crucio!" and a red light hit the spider. It gave a squeal, and began to have a short fit. After a short few seconds, it stopped and curled up into a small ball, still twitching.
Harry looked guilty as he pulled his wand out. "It's not a very good feeling to cast it, either," he said, catching Dumbledore's eye. That turned out to be a bad idea, because abruptly Dumbledore was hit with another memory, this time, though, of a woman in hospital robes handing something to a blond, round-faced boy who looked about Aberforth's age. The woman seemed very fragile and older than what Dumbledore thought she to be. But, that memory was just as suddenly gone as it had come. Dumbledore frowned. "The curse didn't last very long."
"Why is that, Mr. Potter?" Merrythought asked.
He looked up at her. "I don't want the spider to hurt. Seems kind of cruel, doesn't it? To give someone pain who doesn't deserve it?"
Merrythought nodded. "Exactly. You didn't want to give the spider pain, so the curse wasn't as strong as it probably could have been if you really meant it. Mr. Dumbledore, how did you come across that curse?"
He wondered if she expected him to say a book, but, no, not at all. Slowly, he shook his head, refusing to answer as a flash of his Dad came into his mind. Those Muggle boys and Ariana. He couldn't say anything.
Merrythought seemed to realize he wasn't going to answer. People knew what happened with his dad. Dumbledore knew it was always in the back of their minds. He had proved himself to be his own person, but it was obvious that they remembered Percival Dumbledore's trial and Azkaban sentence.
"Er, well," Merrythought said, "What's the next curse?"
"Imperius," Dumbledore whispered.
She nodded. "Imperius. That's a bit different than the Cruciatus. Instead of pain, the castor has complete control over the victim. There's a calmness that radiates through your body and a little voice that says a command. Jump. You jump. Run. You run. Break into the Ministry. You break in. Kill him. You kill him." She paused, letting her words sink in. "Some people can throw it off if they have enough discipline and will of the mind. But, that's quite rare. The castor can keep it on you for hours, days, months, or years. You're their puppet. Harry?"
Harry pushed the first jar away and opened the next jar. He did the same as last time by putting his wand in the mouth, though this time he said, "Imperio!" but no jet of light came out of his wand this time. Suddenly the spider began to dance. It jumped around, doing flips off the side of the glass. The class laughed, but, then, suddenly, it stopped. It started walking in circles as if pacing in a prison cell. Then, it stopped completely as Harry let the spell go. It, too, curled into a ball. The class stopped laughing.
"How guilty do you feel now, Harry?"
"Not as," he said softly. "I wasn't making it do anything bad. But I could make it do worse if I wanted to."
Merrythought nodded. "There's a feeling of complete control?"
"Yeah, but it's not right at all. It's like being in control of yourself, but it's foreign because you're in control of another."
"Yes," Merrythought said. "The reason this is Unforgivable is because it's used for power over another person. The Cruciatus and the Imperius curses are two kinds of coercion- physical and psychological. Psychologically, the Imperius curse controls the thoughts of another while the Cruciatus curse physically incapacitates someone. Neither victim under the castor's chosen curse can't control his own movements until it is released. The next one's even worse. What is it?"
Dumbledore knew this one as well, but a Hufflepuff saying, "Avada Kedavra", cut him off. He turned to look at her, surprised.
"That's right, Ms. Diggory."
Dumbledore turned. Harry was eyeing the girl in the back with a wary expression on his face. Dumbledore wondered what that was about.
"Avada Kedava is the killing curse," Merrythought said. "The curse leaves no mark. It's as if the victim's heart has only just stopped beating, even if he was perfectly healthy. No one in history has survived the curse, nor blocked it with magic-" Harry looked away as she said this, "All the victim sees is a green light and he's instantly dead. Mr. Potter?"
Harry pulled the last jar to him. Dumbledore could see from the close proximity that he was shaking. He untwisted the top, put his wand in, but that was it. He didn't say a word.
Everyone watched him hesitate. If Harry had already done the other two Unforgivables, then why was he hesitating on the third?
"Harry?" Merrythought asked.
"I can't do it," he said, pulling his wand away.
Merrythought nodded, her eyes lightening up considerably. "That's okay, Harry. I understand. You see? This is why the Unforgivable's are Unforgivable. Harry clearly shows guilt and reluctance from doing them, even if it's just with a simple spider. To use these on a person would be considerably more harsh and cruel. The killing curse may just be a flash of green light, but it takes away life forever."
There was silence. Dumbledore watched Harry study the spider in the glass. It was starting to spin a web inside the glass. Meticulously, it went around and around as it made it's home inside the glass. Although it was in the glass for now, Dumbledore knew that the home would be destroyed as soon as it was released.
After a round of questions and a homework assignment saying, "Give three examples where the Unforgivable's have been used in history and explain the circumstances and consequences of why they were used," Dumbledore left go to Transfiguaration, Charms, and then the library.
That was where Dumbledore sat, reading over the curses to find examples of where they were used. The assignment sounded more like something Professor Binns would assign, but Dumbledore understood the reasoning behind that. Merrythought wanted them to give a reason why the curses were bad. But what Dumbledore was most interested in was why Harry had refused to kill a spider of all things.
That would take some pondering indeed.
The week following Harry arriving during Dumbledore's seventh year was less busy than he thought it would be. Merrythought gave him some things to do, such as gather spiders for the Unforgivable curses lesson she taught and crawl around in the dungeons to find a Boggart hiding in the deepest classroom for the third years.
The rest of the time was spent waiting word from Nicolas Flamel or watching Merrythought give lessons. He served almost as her puppet in most cases, which reminded him fiercely of Lockhart doing the same. However, Merrythought was good natured and lived up to her name. She'd smile each time Harry did something well.
"Sorry about all this," she apologized at one point during the week when she and Harry went looking for the Boggart when it escaped. They found it hiding in the Staff Room's wardrobe. "I have to keep up appearances for Professor Black."
At least she wasn't having Harry research. In his mind, that wasn't his thing. He couldn't stand the thought that he could be doing what Hermione loved to do. He liked more practical magic and was quite okay helping her in mock duels like the forth years were doing in class.
The only thing that had made Harry at all uncomfortable was when she was demonstrating the Unforgivables in class. Imperio was the only curse he had ever done effectively before- before he broke into Gringotts. Crucio he hated doing because it reminded him too much of Neville's parents and of Bellatrix Lestrange. Avada Kedavra was the only one he hadn't been able to do.
He couldn't stand the thought of using magic to kill or even to kill at all. He had killed before, but that was necessary, and technically he hadn't really killed him by himself. It was just a backfire of Voldemort's own spell. He couldn't use the spell that had killed his parents and so many others.
But, at any rate, he was glad to have a break from Voldemort and the Death Eater's. All he had been doing for three months since he had joined the Aurors was following leads, capturing Voldemort's followers, and questioning them until they broke. He had blissfully thought Voldemort's reign was over with for good for just a day before he realized his supporters needed to be found and imprisoned for killing and other acts.
That was why he joined the Aurors in the first place, to bring an end to his supporters and support the new Minister. Under Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Ministry was starting to repair itself, slowly, but better than before. Harry knew that this time period didn't have as strong laws that Shacklebolt had recently put into place. Harry hoped to Merlin that he wouldn't change anything by being there. He was attempting to keep a low profile. The only people he had talked to were Merrythought, Dumbledore, and Elphias. He helped with Merrythought's classes, but that was really it. He kept to his rooms located behind a small office down the hall from Merrythought's. There he helped Merrythought research time-travel. Dumbledore had already brought him two updates from Flamel. Flamel, who was working on other projects, needed help.
Harry had to traveled to Diagon Alley to purchase ingredients for the Elixir.
In fact, that was what he was doing on Tuesday morning. Dumbledore had brought him a list from Flamel the night before, requesting that Harry get what was on it. Apparently, if Flamel took his time to make the Elixir for him, Harry would have to work to earn it. At least he didn't have to capture Death Eater's.
Diagon Alley, like Hogsmeade, wasn't much different than in the future. The only difference was that it was absolutely thriving. Witches and wizards were everywhere: talking to friends, stopping to window shop or pick up a trinket on a street vendor's cart, and kids, who were most likely great-grandparents to some of his friends, roamed about, pressing their noses against the glass to Quality Quidditch Supplies to ogle the broomsticks in the window. Harry stopped at the last to look over the kids' shoulders. The model's name was the Oakshaft 79. Harry could remember a mention of it in Quidditch Through the Ages.
Although Harry continued on, he could help but wonder how fast that broom could go.
Two doors down from Quidditch Supplies, Harry found the Apothecary. Harry entered. There were a few witches down the aisle ways. He looked down at the list in Dumbledore's same old loopy handwriting. Harry found comfort in how ordinary that was.
Harry searched for each ingredient. Some were in view, but others he had to crouch down to find. Those had thick, grey layers of dust over the glass and tucked in the back of the shelves. Harry wasn't sure what most of them were used for regularly, and he didn't really want to know, let alone keep it in mind that he would eventually have to drink the ingredients in ten months.
Harry paid for them, and then went back out into Diagon Alley.
He liked the fact that when he walked out, no one paid attention to him at all. He was able to walk toward The Leaky Cauldron without any interference.
He knocked on Merrythought's office door five minutes later. The door opened by itself like always.
"Hello, Harry," Merrythought said. "What can I do for you?"
"Er, do you know where Dumbledore is?"
"He's in Potions, I believe," she said. "Why? Do you have something for him?"
Harry lifted his bookbag he'd brought to Diagon Alley. "I have ingredients for Nicolas Flamel."
She checked her hanging clock above her overflowing bookshelf. It read ten thirty. "He'll be done in thirty minutes. Care to explain what you've got for Flamel?"
Harry sat on her couch and opened the bag clinking with vials. "Dumbledore gave me a list last night." He picked closet one. "Murtlap tentacles," he said, holding it up. "I'm not exactly sure what that's for. The rest are runespoor eggs, dragon egg shell, and aconite."
Merrythought shook her head as she dipped her quill in the ink well. Harry guessed she'd seen the look on his face, which was pure dislike. "Not to worry, Harry. I wouldn't doubt that Flamel's the greatest Potions master alive."
"Dumbledore's taking an apprenticeship with him, isn't he? I always thought his best subject was Transfiguration."
"Oh, yes, he's brilliant in Transfiguration," she said with a curt nod and smile. "Very much so. He writes editorials for Transfiguration Today. But, he's very interested in Alchemy. There's more to it than potion making. It's a very philosophical branch of magic. Albus believes he can achieve ultimate wisdom." She sighed as if she disapproved of it. Maybe she did.
Harry leaned in closer. He'd wanted to learn more about Dumbledore since Rita Skeeter published that book of hers. But, he wanted to learn from someone who actually knew him rather than a tabloid writer with her nasty green quill and thirst for gossip.
"Was that why Flamel apprenticed him? How did they meet?"
Merrythought gave a small smile. "Dumbledore has a thirst for knowledge. He wants to prove himself in every subject and get to know everyone. He's very sociable, Dumbledore. It's stunning how he deals with people. In fact, when I got to know Flamel a few years ago, I was working as an Unspeakable for the Ministry, and Flamel offered his input for the time division. I can't tell you want division I worked in, but Flamel noticed a mistake I made. I began working with him some and when I noticed Dumbledore's talent, I introduced them.
"Dumbledore began asking about Alchemy immediately. It was like he was sucked into Flamel's words. Flamel loved the attention. He doesn't get out much, you see. Not many people know he's still alive. I had no idea Dumbledore knew so much about Alchemy. Flamel was very impressed and they began exchanging letters. At the end of last year, he asked if Dumbledore would like to apprentice with him. Flamel hasn't had one in three hundred years. Can you believe that?"
Harry shook his head. That was a very long time.
She continued on. "He gave him Fawkes that first day. But what Flamel's teaching him is philosophy and fire magic. Transfiguration comes in with the fire magic a bit. Even I don't exactly understand it all. Dumbledore's the most gifted wizard I've ever met in my life."
Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that because he couldn't quite believe it. He knew Dumbledore had partnered with Flamel, but he never knew the extent. He was sure there was even more to it than that.
She stopped talking and instead began to write comments on what looked to be someone's essay. Harry stuck the vials back into his back. He'd give them to Dumbledore later.
"Frankly, he's a bit over his head," Merrythought said breaking Harry's train of thought. "It's astonishing how much he knows, but what's even more is the mistakes he makes. He doesn't realize it, either. Flamel's trying to get him to see, but something is blocking that. Someday someone's going to get hurt because of his wild ideas and plans."
Harry couldn't tell her how right she was. It unnerved him that she already knew this when it had taken Dumbledore's brother telling him that sometimes Dumbledore's ideas were difficult.
"Not to worry, Harry. This idea of getting you back is Flamel's."
Harry hoped that meant something good.
AN: Harry's bit was difficult to write this time. I don't really know why. Sorry if some of it's confusing.
I know that the Unforgivable's are pretty much a repeat from the last four books, but there's a reason! The way Moody/Crouch teaches it is less about the emotions than Merrythought's. I think of Merrythought as an emotional character. She's very into morals.
I have no idea when the next chapter will be up. But very soon, most likely by Monday, September 6th. I'm almost done with it. School's work is going to make the chapters take longer. I'm very sorry about that.
But, that's about it. Please review if you'd like.