A/N: We've finally reached our major canon diversion point - it only took 16 chapters - and has it really been over two years since I started this little tale? Thanks to all who have stuck with it thus far, especially those who follow, fave, and/or comment - that's food for my muse.
As I began this chapter, various scenes started nipping at my heels like impatient puppies, begging to be written, some of which came out of nowhere. It quickly became so much that I had to beg them off and close this one, the longest chapter so far. The intended action climax will have to wait until next time; until then, enjoy.
Warning: This story will somewhat modify the canon version of Horcrux creation; details will be forthcoming in later chapters. Story warnings will apply to most chapters from this point forward.
Ch 17 in which Harry tries to regroup...
– 17 –
Blue World
Fly me high, touch the sky
Left the earth below
Heard the line, saw the sign
Knew which way to go
'Cause it's easier to try
Than to prove it can't be done
And it's easier to stay
Than to turn around and run
It's a blue world
It takes somebody to help somebody
- The Moody Blues
o o
o
"Enter."
Ginny barged into the headmaster's office, and Dumbledore sat in his elegant chair, looking at her over his glasses as if she was inquiring about a schedule problem.
"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley. May I assume Mr. Potter is about to incite an altercation?"
Ginny suspected Dumbledore would make a fabulous Divination teacher, if he could teach others how he always seemed to know things.
"Yes, sir, with Draco Malfoy. According to Harry, he's hiding on the sixth floor landing."
The headmaster nodded sagely and rose from behind his desk. "I realize this will be a hardship for you, but I must ask you to remain within the safety of this office."
Ginny frowned, disappointed that she was not allowed to assist. "I understand, sir."
Dumbledore hurried out the door which audibly clicked behind him.
Ginny stared at the wooden barrier, pretending it would self-combust if she glared hard enough, then she could use that as an excuse for leaving. But she could not disobey a direct order without having a better reason than her concern for Harry. He would make short work of Malfoy, she was certain, but she also knew that Fate did not always play by normal rules when Harry Potter was concerned.
So she waited, and the minutes felt like ages as she paced, fidgeted, and prayed.
The door banged open and Ginny spun to see Harry dash in wildly, eyes like saucers, scanning the room until they spotted her.
"Ginny!" he breathed as he ran over. "Thank God you're here!"
"Harry?" she said, falling into his desperate embrace. "What's happened?"
"He's dead, Ginny… I… killed him - he's gone!"
Ginny gasped - this wasn't supposed to happen. "But it was self-defense, right?"
"No, it was an accident - I never even saw him!"
Something didn't add up, and Ginny began to fear the worst.
"Malfoy?"
"He'll be sore for a bit, but he deserves a lot more - bastard was even gloating about it…"
She pushed him back to look at his face. "Harry, what… who's died?"
"Dumbledore. He… stepped into my spellfire and fell… six floors down."
She gasped again. Dumbledore?! He had just walked out of the office door - and now he would never be coming through it again. Ginny realized that a radical shift in their world had just begun, but she couldn't worry about that right now.
Harry's eyes were screwed shut and she could feel the guilt leaking in his tears.
"Merlin… What are you going to do?"
"I… not sure. Snape told me to run away. He came to where… the headmaster had fallen, saw me and sent a patronus that talked to me…"
Suddenly, Minerva McGonagall's commanding voice echoed around them. "All students are to remain in their current locations until further notice. No one is to be in the corridors. The school is on temporary lockdown. Thank you."
"Ginny, they're going to send me to Azkaban!"
"You don't get sent to Azkaban for accidents, Harry. But, strange as it sounds, I agree with Snape. You need to get away. You could go to headquarters for a while."
"You're right," he sniffled, "the Ministry couldn't reach me there. Ginny, what would I do without you?"
She squeezed him tightly. "You won't be without me, Harry, even if we're not physically together, remember? Now, you've got to get moving before the Aurors show up. Call Dobby and Kreacher."
"Thank you," Harry said, giving her a quick but passionate kiss, not knowing when he would be able to do so again.
"Kreacher!"
The ancient elf appeared, glowering at them. "Half-blood master calls Kreacher?"
"Yes, I am returning to the Black home for the foreseeable future. I need you to prepare the floo for me, then lock down all access to anyone I do not specify. For now, Ginny and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger shall be the only ones, and Dobby the House-elf."
The elf sneered briefly towards Ginny. "Kreacher does as Master wishes," he said, and popped away.
Dobby appeared almost in the same spot that Kreacher just vacated, hats askew and pulling on his floppy ears.
"Harry Potter Sir must be leaving Hoggie-warts! Aurors be coming in the front doors!"
"Dobby? You know what happened?"
"Hoggie-warts elves know headmaster is gone, and they tells Dobby. Dobby sees blood on floor and knows trouble will find Harry Potter Sir if he stays!"
"The elf is correct, young master," said one of the headmaster portraits. "Aurors have entered the castle. Acting Headmistress McGonagall is leading a group of them here. You have less than a minute before they arrive."
Another portrait spoke. "Remember Albus Dumbledore's last request of you."
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, thanks, I almost forgot! Dobby, go to my dorm and pack everything in my trunk. I am moving to headquarters. Take it to my old bedroom there."
Dobby acknowledged and popped away to perform his task.
Harry rushed around Dumbledore's old desk and tapped his wand to the hidden cupboard. As it opened, Harry conjured a large bag and levitated the entire contents - the ruined founders' relics, several books, and a journal - dropped them inside and drew it shut. He then repeated the procedure for Gryffindor's sword and placed it in a conjured scabbard.
"That's it, then," Harry murmured, pulling Ginny to him one last time. "Tell McGonagall what's happened - everything except Tom's little toys, I'm not sure she knows about those. Send news with Hedwig, if she hasn't followed me."
Ginny held on as long as she could. "Take care, Harry. I love you."
Harry squeezed her a bit tighter. "I love you, too, Gin." He slowly moved back, stroking her hair with longing in his eyes.
As voices were heard outside approaching the door, Harry stepped into the fireplace and was gone.
o o o
Number 12 Grimmauld Place, former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, was now the safehouse of one fugitive underage student named Harry Potter, also known as The Boy Who Lived and various other names of a mostly disparaging nature.
In the drawing room, Harry saw his life unraveling, just like the threadbare carpet he had been wearing a path across all afternoon. He mourned his former headmaster, wallowing in the guilt of his death, and wondering how in the name of everything holy would he be able to carry on from this point.
Kreacher, the recently reinstalled resident house-elf, popped into the room.
"Auror with whirly eye be knocking at door," he groused.
Harry paused in mid-pace. "Took him long enough."
He shook his head, clearing his dismal thoughts. "Kreacher, take this bag and sword to my room so that maybe Mad-Eye won't notice them."
The ancient elf sullenly grabbed the offered objects, then straightened. He snapped his fingers and the ruined locket of Salazar Slytherin appeared in his hand.
"Master destroyed it?" he whimpered, tears pooling in his bloodshot eyes.
"Yes, Kreacher, I had to. There was no way to remove the taint otherwise. I'm sorry."
Kreacher gurgled and snuffled, then noisily blew his nose on the tea towel he was wearing.
"Master fulfilled Good Master Regulus' final order. Kreacher honored to serve new Master of House Black."
He bowed low to the ground and rising up he appeared decades younger. "New Master deserves new bedroom. Kreacher will see to it."
He snapped his fingers again and popped away.
Harry scratched his head in bemusement; apparently he had done the right thing, but with Kreacher it was hard to tell.
He jogged downstairs to the Entry Hall and stood at the door, opening a slit wide enough to poke his wand through.
"What is your favorite Irish jig to play on the fiddle?"
"Aye, lad," grumbled the old Auror in his black bowler hat, "too much like your father ye are. As I told you, I've never played the fiddle and stop askin' about it. Now, let me in - we need to talk."
"Just talk?"
"For now, yes. Later, we'll see."
Harry reckoned that was as good a promise he could get at the moment, so he opened the door and stood aside.
Retired Master Auror Mad-Eye Moody limped inside, his magical eye swerving all around as he headed to the Dining Room.
"No one here but you and the elf?"
"That's right," Harry said as he sat down across from Mad-Eye. "I've had him block access to everyone else except my close friends."
"Good move."
Mad-Eye cleared his throat. "I'm not gonna lie to you, lad, the dragons are circling, and the rumors goin' round ain't paintin' a pretty portrait of yourself."
"If Draco Malfoy was the source of any of those rumors -"
"Aye. If I had my way, he'd be cooling his heels in a Ministry holding cell. As it is, Minerva is distraught and furious at the same time, but at least you and the Malfoy boy are only suspended for the time being, based mostly on the account of the Weasley girl. There's a lass I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of. Dawlish may never recover."
"Ginny attacked an Auror?"
"Only verbally, but she knows cutting words…"
o
"I told you, Harry said he never saw the headmaster!" Ginny insisted.
"The Malfoy boy said Mr. Potter deliberately targeted him, so we need to take him to the Ministry for questioning," replied Auror Dawlish.
Ginny's scowl deepened. "And you actually believed him?"
"Why wouldn't I? He's a member of a highly respected family."
"The only people who say that are dark wizards or idiots," growled Ginny. "Which are you?"
"Miss Weasley!" admonished McGonagall, while Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley tried to hide their grins.
"They give generously to St. Mungo's -"
"Yes, and you believe they do that because they want to help others. So - idiot."
Dawlish spluttered in protest.
"You've obviously confused wealth and influence with character and integrity. Let me tell you this, Auror Dawlish, that git whose lies you're accepting on his word alone is already a Dark-Mark-carrying Death Eater, just like his father."
"But Lucius Malfoy was under the Imperius -"
"He certainly wasn't under the Imperius during my first year when he tried to get me killed! The reason he was acquitted in the last war wasn't because he proved anything - he merely paid off most of the Wizengamot and none of the rest of them had the bollocks to make a protest! Tell me, Auror Dawlish, do you have the bollocks to do the right thing and look for the truth before making random accusations? Do you want me to take my boot and find out for you?"
o
Harry gaped in horror, trying to hide the pride he felt deep inside. "Is she in trouble?"
"For pointing out the obvious? Not likely," sighed Mad-Eye. "However, an assault to an on-duty Auror would be a very serious crime. Fortunately, everyone else in the room knows Molly Weasley well enough to let the girl have her say. Redheads and all that."
"Merlin, what a mess."
"Aye, and it's gonna be that way awhile. I've managed to keep the Minister from jumpin' to conclusions, but he won't allow me to bring in young Malfoy unless I bring in you as well. What I don't have is evidence. I need to know what really happened today, lad. You know the protocols."
Harry pulled out the Elder Wand, still charmed to look like his original, and held it out. "I suppose you'll want the memory of the duel, and check the spells with my wand."
"Aye, that I do."
Mad-Eye performed several Auror spells to display the most recent magic performed by the wand and record it for evidence, then he helped Harry pull a silvery thread from his temple and place it in a vial. He would be studying that memory at length in the pensieve at DMLE headquarters.
"Now tell me how this all came about."
Harry ran his hand through his hair. "Well, after you removed that vanishing cabinet, we were keeping a close eye on Draco Malfoy, like you said, and today I noticed on the Marauder's Map that he was hiding at the sixth floor landing, where I pass several times every day. He appeared to be looking for an ambush, so I decided to let him attack me instead of anyone else."
"Aye. You worried he might target your friends?"
"Of course, sir." Harry explained how he sent Ginny Weasley to fetch the Headmaster while he proceeded to engage the Slytherin.
"I realize now I probably should have let Dumbledore arrive first, but I knew I could handle anything Malfoy would attempt."
"Even though you don't know if he's getting special training, just like you?"
Harry shrugged. "Maybe he is, but he didn't give me any surprises."
"So where did it go pear-shaped?"
"I was focused on Malfoy - I kept busting his shields so he was running around like crazy - and Dumbledore must have stepped into my line of spellfire - I swear I never saw him until I had already hit him."
"Hmm, that's not like Albus. Now I'm more curious than ever."
"So… what happens now?"
"You can't go back to school, lad, so stay here and keep your head down. I'll handle the dragons."
He slowly rose to his feet. "The usual wags are gonna be vicious, but you just need to worry about the Minister and his immediate advisors. I've got a report to write up and that should keep all but the worst at bay. I'll be in touch."
Mad-Eye took a long look at Harry, as if to make sure he wasn't going to dissolve into a puddle. He donned his bowler, nodded and headed out the door.
o o o
"Thank you, Kreacher, but this is too much."
"New Master is master of house, so New Master gets master's bedroom."
Harry shook his head, looking around at the king size four poster curtained bed, the leather fainting chair and settee, the ornate writing desk, dressing table and matching wardrobes, all done in walnut and dark green, but the silver fabrics and trim offset the dark tones and everything was cleaned and polished. Even the carpet was plush and fresh smelling. He could see through to the ensuite bath that, although old in design, was elegant and functional.
He stared at his pale reflection in the dressing table mirror. Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, the sorting hat had told him, and now he was to live like a Slytherin prince.
"You've done a great job here, Kreacher. You honor the House of Black."
The old house-elf bowed proudly. "Kreacher makes dinner now."
He popped away before Harry could tell him that he wasn't really hungry. Harry thought about who the actual master of this house was; it was most likely not himself.
Harry walked to the wardrobes and looked inside. His clothes and trunk were already placed in one; the other held the items from Dumbledore's office. Unsure of what else to do, he reached into the bag and retrieved a book. It had no title, but the Elder Wand played a low discordant note, saying to be wary of its contents.
o o o
Hours later, Harry slammed the cover on the last of the tomes Dumbledore had collected, probably pulled from the restricted section of the library. He dropped his head and took several deep breaths, trying not to be sick on the carpet again. He'd learned more about Horcruxes and their creation than he'd ever dreamed and couldn't believe the depravity of anyone who would take such steps. Just reading about them made him violently ill, but he forced himself to soldier through, and a new realization was hammering on his consciousness now.
Ginny was in potential danger, and he couldn't tell her why - it was too disturbing.
As if she were an angel answering his prayer, his beautiful snowy owl swept into the room and alighted on the arm of the settee.
"Hey, girl," cooed Harry, stroking Hedwig's beautiful feathers. "Your timing couldn't be better. You're a breath of fresh air, you know?"
Hedwig hooted in appreciation and agreement. She lifted her leg so that Harry could retrieve Ginny's letter.
"Thanks, girl, you're the best." He called for Kreature to get Hedwig set up with treats, water, and a perch. He opened the note and read:
Dear Harry:
Hedwig is such a marvel! She was waiting on the windowsill when I got back to my dorm after dinner.
How are you? Please send word as soon as you can.
It's like I told you last summer, Fate really has it out for you. The school is in shock - McG made the announcement at dinner that you and Malfoy were both suspended for aggressive dueling in the hallways and that the headmaster's death is "a sad and tragic reminder of why we have school rules." At least no one is talking about criminal charges anymore. Except the Slytherins, and nobody cares what they think.
I swear, if I see that Auror Dawlish again, well, he's going to wish I hadn't. He insisted on taking you to the Ministry for questioning even after I explained what happened. I threatened to kick him right there if he didn't adjust his attitude. Can you believe he was trusting Malfoy's version of events? Moody was there, along with Tonks and Kingsley and they all agreed an investigation was warranted, and one of them would question you. I let Moody know where you were.
There's no talk of closing school - not yet anyway. Everyone's worried with Dumbledore gone and you not around (yes, they still look up to you, and I know what you're thinking - get over it). McG said she would announce more information as soon as "necessary decisions were made." I guess she's worried she may not be the new headmistress.
Enough about school - you're probably about to go round the twist alone with only Kreacher as company. Do something to keep your spirits up - invite Moony over, talk to somebody, anybody - keep your skills sharp. You probably want to write us all a letter too. Have Dobby send it to Ron. Hedwig's brilliant, but too noticeable.
I wish I could say more, but you never know how private letters stay. Just think about last week in the RoR and I will too.
Yours,
Ginny
Harry sat back and closed his eyes. She was too smart to say anything in writing, but he could feel the love and concern lifting off every line of ink on the parchment. With all the other nonsense Fate had dumped on him, she made up for it by bringing Ginny and him together. Ginny was his rock, his guiding light, and the fire of his passion. She made all things bearable and inspired him to keep going.
And she also gave excellent advice. He had some letters to write.
o o o
Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour lifted his finger from the pensieve on the table.
"Who else has seen this?"
Mad-Eye Moody sat back from their joint excursion into the previous day's memory from Harry Potter. "Only a few select Aurors previewed it with me last night - Kingsley and Tonks, specifically."
Scrimgeour nodded. "Were you able to get a corroborating memory from the Malfoy boy?"
"As yet, he still refuses. Claims his word should be adequate."
"Not surprising. He knows he wasn't firing any spells in Dumbledore's direction, so he wouldn't be held accountable for his death. However, this memory also calls to question some of his statements. His back was to the stair when Albus appeared, so how could he know that Potter was targeting him? Or even know he was there?"
"My thoughts as well," Moody agreed.
"And Albus stepped into Potter's line of fire, after the spells had been cast, confirming the boy's account. But Albus was a fool - trusting his shields would hold against a mere student? Granted, most students aren't Potter. Merlin's beard, that boy can fight! Both boys in fact looked much better than any sixth years I've ever known. But Potter had a grace about him that only comes from experience - he's had training, and some of those spells are not commonly known outside the Department."
He stroked his mane-like beard, studying the grizzled Auror across the table, veteran of war and fights with many a dark wizard of bad intent, trainer of most of the current force - and he knew.
"Those detentions with Potter - they weren't meant for punishment, were they?"
"Oh, they were punishing enough I'd say, but you're right, Rufus. Albus wanted the boy trained, and asked me to do it."
The Minister stroked his beard some more. "Did we ever learn the contents of that prophecy at the center of the chaos in the Department of Mysteries last year?"
Moody shook his head. "Albus knew because it was told to him, but he held his cards close. I don't know if he ever shared it - certainly not with me or any others in the Order. All I know is that someone overheard the first part of it and passed it along to the Dark Lord. His interpretation of it caused him to attack the Potters in Godric's Hollow that Halloween."
"So Potter might really be the Chosen One?"
"Hard to say, but it's well known that the Dark Lord has his wand set on the boy, unnaturally so. That's why Albus wanted Potter to have a fighting chance. There will be another confrontation, unless some miracle causes You-Know-Who to die first."
"Thundering hippogriffs, Alastor! We need this boy with us! Despite the goodwill the Ministry would get, he could really contribute to our efforts in the field. How good would you say he is?"
Moody shrugged. "He could best any trainee we've got, and a fair few of the regulars too."
"You say he's suspended from school and just cooling his heels at home. It's a damn shame he's not of age yet, or I'd have him on the payroll tomorrow."
"I get the feeling he'd love to put the hurt on some dark wizards, but persuading him to work for the Ministry - there's the challenge."
Scrimgeour grimaced. "You're right; I met him over Christmas. Damn Fudge and the mountain he put between us and the boy. We seem to have gotten part way 'round it, but we've got a long way to go yet."
o o o
Remus Lupin sipped his morning tea, despairing at the morning headlines in the Daily Prophet. Albus was dead, and Harry was responsible. The boy was probably wallowing in guilt over the affair, even though the paper - ever quick to vilify the Boy Who Lived - pointed out no charges had been made against him.
Nymphadora "don't call me that" Tonks slid an arm over his shoulders and sat beside him. "How bad is it?"
"Sparse on facts, heavy on speculation, mostly not in a good light in Harry's favor. At least they're not tying him to the stake just yet."
"All considered, not a bad thing then. I think this will blow over when the truth comes out."
"You saw the memory. You're sure Harry wasn't at fault?"
"Positive. We walked over to the landing and viewed it again. Albus was barely in the edges of the memory, but you could see him clearly enough. It was like he knew he was walking into trouble."
Remus shook his head, staring blankly ahead. "That's strange… Albus doesn't usually make mistakes like that."
"Remus, that's what I'm trying to tell you. This was no mistake."
o o o
In an abandoned classroom near Gryffindor Tower, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny huddled over Harry's quick note from the night before.
"He's taking this better than I thought he would," said Ron. "And Kreature finally turning into a decent house-elf? That's a surprise."
"I'm not so sure," said Hermione. "He's had years of misery knowing he was unable to fulfill his last order from Regulus, the only one of the Blacks he seemed to really care about. Having that burden suddenly lifted away could have been quite transformative for him."
"Yeah, he was still his grouchy self when I saw him," said Ginny. "He may turn into another Dobby for all we know."
Ron chuckled at that notion, but Hermione shook her head.
"Harry can't keep him, surely?"
"What else can he do with him? He's spent his whole life devoted to serving the Black family, every one of them is gone except for the cousins. I could see him passing to the Tonks family, but Bellatrix Lestrange or Narcissa Malfoy? What kind of choice is that? We know Harry will be good to him."
"How does Harry get messed up in all these things?" fretted Hermione. "How will he cope at headquarters all alone?"
"Kreacher," said both Ron and Ginny.
"You know what I mean! Ginny, you were the last to see him - did he seem okay?"
Ginny looked quizzically at Hermione. "For someone who just accidentally killed one of the few people he looks up to - I'd say pretty much as expected."
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean -"
Ginny waved her off. "It's alright, Hermione, this has been hard on everyone. And yes, Harry was upset and out of sorts, but he pulled it together when the headmaster portraits suggested he get moving." After a few snogs from herself, she thought warmly.
Ron nodded. "He's got lots of support. You said even Snape told him to get away."
"And we've got to do what we can, even if we can't be with him."
o o o
Remus was still contemplating that possibility Albus may have been responsible for his own death when a white snowy owl arrived at the window.
"Remus, that's Hedwig!" cried Tonks.
"Hello, beautiful," Remus said. "Did you bring us something from Harry?"
Hedwig hopped onto his outstretched arm and stuck out her leg, hooting her affirmation.
Remus gently untied the message. "Is he going to be alright? You've been with him a long time."
Hedwig hopped to the table and slowly bobbed her head. Her coo was low and long.
Tonks stared at her. "She understands you."
Hedwig spun her head and glared.
Tonks held up her hands. "Sorry, Hedwig, I'm just not used to owls being as smart as you. Harry's very lucky to have you, isn't he?"
Mollified, Hedwig hooted and bobbed again.
Meanwhile Remus unfolded the parchment and began to read.
Moony:
You've probably heard the news from yesterday. We need to talk. I'm at headquarters, but you'll have to use the front door. I've cut off the floo.
Thanks,
H
"Harry wants to see me!"
"Of course he does - who else has he got left?" Tonks declared. "Give him love from me, and let him know what I told you. I've got to get back to Hogwarts - it's probably gonna be a crazy day."
A half hour later Remus was knocking at 12 Grimmauld Place. The familiar face of Kreature appeared at the window and held up his index finger.
Remus nodded. He'd wait as long as necessary to make sure Harry was okay.
The door opened a crack and the tip of a wand appeared aimed directly at him.
"What was the reason you gave for not allowing me to face the first boggart?"
Remus smiled. "I said that I assumed it would take the shape of Lord Voldemort."
Harry opened the door wider. "Moony! Glad you're here. Step in quickly please."
The door shut and Remus found himself wrapped tightly in the arms of a distraught young man, the only legacy of the Marauders worth a damn. He returned the embrace, rubbing his back and wondering how things had gotten this bad for Harry and wondering what he could have done differently over the years.
Eventually Harry relaxed and Remus stood back to look him over - bloodshot eyes, pale skin, a mop of hair that looked messier than ever.
"Harry, did you get any sleep last night?"
He shook his head. "Don't think so, not a lot."
"How about some tea?"
Harry acquiesced and Remus guided him down to the kitchen. Harry sat while Remus put on the kettle then dropped onto the bench across from him into a swath of silence.
"Harry?" Remus said lowly. "How are you feeling?"
"Like an idiot…"
"Harry…"
Remus stopped, accosted by Harry's intense gaze and the cavern of his despair.
"What will it be next time, Moony? When someone is trying to protect me or I do something stupid and somebody else I care about dies? What if it's you?"
Touched, Remus reached across and enveloped his hands. "Oh, Harry, I know you're hurting. We all are. But you also know that's what happens when people who care about each other want to protect each other in desperate situations -"
"But Dumbledore wasn't protecting me - I was careless and my spells were wild. He died for no reason, Moony! No reason!"
"Harry, listen to me." He waited until Harry settled. "Tonks reviewed your memory with Mad-Eye last night -"
Harry groaned. "She's never gonna speak to me again."
"Harry, no, it's not like that, not at all. Mad-Eye is coming over later with the pensieve to show you, but we thought you needed to know -"
"What? Am I going to Azkaban?"
"No, Harry, you're not going to Azkaban. What Tonks saw was Albus deliberately stepping into the path of your spells, as if he knew exactly what would happen."
Harry sat up, eyes wide. "What? Why would he do that?"
"I have no idea. Mad-Eye wants to talk to you about it - maybe you can spot something the rest of us missed. The point is, you obviously didn't target the headmaster so you're not at fault for his death. I understand why you sought Draco out, but don't expect Minerva to back down on your suspension."
"No, I don't reckon she would."
Harry shoved his palms over his eyes. "Merlin, this is the second time I've killed a professor…"
Remus sighed, feeling helpless, unable to give any comfort to Harry's agony and grief.
"I'll just get that tea now, all right?"
o o o
"Pause."
Mad-Eye Moody pointed at the frozen image of Harry Potter, who had just turned and formed a shield, just before the bone-breaker curse hanging in mid-air would have hit it.
"I know ye had your wand at the ready, but that is one hell of reaction time, lad, especially with the enemy at your back."
The real Harry shrugged. "I knew it was coming, is all."
Inside the pensieve memory, Mad-Eye re-started the action. "Couldn't help noticing the Malfoy lad's creative version of events, right from the start."
"He's always had a knack for that."
"Kingsley was impressed with your interrogation skills under fire; he insisted I tell you," Mad-Eye said.
"Erm, tell him thank you."
"I would agree, but you're going a little soft on your opponent. If he was an unknown, he could take advantage."
"Yes, sir, constant vigilance."
Mad-Eye grinned. "Right. You obviously need practice on environmental awareness, and that's my fault for not taking more advantage of that special room we use. Now, what made you change tactics at this point?"
"He lost his temper when I called his parents 'scumbags' and I didn't see any point to try and wheedle anything else out of him. He was losing control, and like you said-"
"You took advantage. Good. Nice mix of spellwork to keep him on the back foot. He's got dodges almost as good as yours - fast, too. Why didn't you introduce the shield breakers earlier?"
"You said I shouldn't open with my best spells; save them for when they can be most effective. I figured that the Death Eaters are going to study my moves from his memory just like we are, and I didn't want to use them at all unless I had to."
Mad-Eye nodded. "Sound reasoning. Just remember no secret is worth getting yourself maimed or killed. Here we are - pause. Now from your position, look carefully at the stairs."
Mad-Eye resumed the memory and it was easy to see Headmaster Albus Dumbledore in deep purple robes step in front of the oncoming spells. He had a shield in place, at least until it faltered under the shield breaking spell, then a strong disarming spell threw him back, over the railing - feet in the air, arms whirling, his wand spinning off into the hall somewhere - and then he was gone.
"Pause."
"I thought I saw something about then - it must have been the movement that caught my eye… oh, God, he was flipping over backward…"
"All right there, lad? We can break if you like. We've got time."
Harry sucked several lungfuls of air. "No, thanks… I reckon just a minute… That's the first I've actually seen it happen." He leaned forward and tried to level out his breathing.
"No one will think any less of you, that's certain."
Harry stood and paced slowly. "I… think I'm okay. Just a bit of a shock I reckon."
"Aye, that it is, and a serious matter, too. Absolutely normal, but you can make yourself sick if you pretend it doesn't exist, right, lad? There's potions if you need them."
"Right, thank you, sir. I'll have Kreacher fetch some if necessary. Now, Remus said we had to view it again from the stairs?"
Mad-Eye led them both to the landing at the bottom of the staircase that the headmaster would descend, yet still keeping the memory-Harry in sight.
"Back, 30 seconds. Resume."
They watched the headmaster ghost partway down the staircase, pause and study the duel, just out of sight. He cast a shield and waited a moment more, then sprang into action and dropped to the landing. His shield was almost immediately defeated and another spell - the disarming charm - slammed into his chest, and once again Harry had to watch him tossed violently into oblivion beyond the memory.
"It's even worse seeing it up close," Harry murmured, trying not to lose control.
"Breathe, lad. I know this is hard, but did you notice his movements?"
"Yeah… He stopped and waited for me to… fire those spells. Why… would he do that?"
"Aye, that's the question that's got us all stumped. Albus knew you had a good shield buster yet walked right into it - deliberately - from the looks of it. We can't see his face well enough to make a guess at his thoughts at the time."
Mad-Eye stared at the Boy Who Lived. "Did he share anything about that injury to his hand? Might it have addled his brains?"
Harry closed his eyes and nodded. He was afraid it might come to this. "He walked into a trap with a withering curse. He never said how much time he had left, only that it was soon."
"Aye, thought that might be the case. So that was the foolish move that led to this one?"
"Surely you don't think -"
"I don't know what to think, lad. Albus was a man of many secrets, and this one led to his death. That's between him and his maker, mind, so you're not to beat yourself up over his own machinations. I'd pay a small ransom to ask him what the hell he was thinking, but we can't do that now."
Harry started. Maybe you can't, he thought, but I can.
o o o
"I must say, Harry, I was expecting you to call soon, but it seems only minutes have passed since I was flesh and blood."
Harry wasn't sure if he would ever get used to the pale luminescence of figures brought from the other side by means of the Peverell Resurrection Stone, this time being one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, recently deceased.
"It's been over a day for us, sir, and I'm sorry - did it hurt when… you know…"
"Interesting, but not unexpected that time would pass differently, something for later I think. But to answer your question, no, I am happy to say that my head was apparently unable to acknowledge any messages of distress by the time they were received. The fall was a rather thrilling experience overall, not unlike the Muggle park rides.
"Being here now, however, is most unusual - it feels somehow wrong and unnatural, and I believe it would be uncomfortable if I were not so eager to see you, and I am, Harry - I truly am. I come fully prepared to answer all those questions you are bursting to ask."
"Erm, yes… sir, I have to know - Mad-Eye showed me the memory, and… did you step into my spells on purpose? And why? Did you know what would happen?"
Dumbledore smiled. "As always, Harry, you ask the most difficult questions first. To be blatantly frank, yes, I deliberately subjected myself to your most capable wandwork, knowing full well that it would likely be the last action I would ever take as a mortal being."
He held up his hand. "Before your inevitable protestations begin, I also knew the probability of what would happen had I not taken that step to end my own life."
Harry gaped at him. "But… what? Why?"
"The explanation requires some context, Harry. You remember before you took the Elder Wand as your own I told you that it provided special benefits to me? One of those was the ability to discern the true heart of those around me. For instance, from the moment I met you, I've known you as one of the purest of intent I have ever seen. Included with that was unparalleled determination to see a task through, a combination that has served you well your entire life.
"I have also seen the heart of young Draco Malfoy over the years. While many of his traits are less desirable than yours, he does not have the heart of a killer, Harry. Yet you and I both have independently come to the same conclusion - he had been tasked by Lord Voldemort to end my life and the consequences for failure would be quite severe. If my life had not ended in your duel, the status quo would have remained unchanged and Draco would be seeking yet other, potentially more harmful ways of completing his assigned task. He might have eventually succeeded in making himself a murderer, therefore irreparably damaging his own soul, and my own death might have been considerably messier and more painful, not to mention that others might have become innocent victims - what almost happened to Miss Bell could happen to others.
"Some might call it a coward's choice, because the withering curse was slowly progressing across my body. I had but weeks left and my affairs were in order. There was little to no benefit for delaying the inevitable."
Harry scowled. "So you saved Malfoy from becoming a murderer, and instead dumped that on me?"
"Harry, do you feel damaged? Remorseful?"
"No, right now I'm feeling mostly a fool for allowing this to happen. I know now it wasn't my fault -"
"Yes, Harry! And that is all the difference! You did not murder me, so your soul is as complete as it ever was. And I knew that we would have this opportunity to ensure you knew the truth. I know personally how the pain of one's own guilt can build in your own soul - and force you to second guess important decisions. In the midst of battle, hesitation can be fatal."
Harry stared at the headmaster, and into his mind popped the haunting image of the Dumbledore graves in Godric's Hollow. "This happened before the war, didn't it?"
The ghost-like figure of Albus Dumbledore bowed his head. "It was a long time ago. I had just come of age and graduated Hogwarts, expecting to tour the world and find my place in it. Instead, my parents were both gone and I was frustrated with what I considered the burden of caring for my younger brother and sister. I was foolish and conceited, as are many young people who haven't yet grasped the full mantle of adulthood. Into my life walked a young man who shone like the sun and stars in my dismal prison, which was how I thought of it. Together we dreamed of a new world where wizards and Muggles could live together in full knowledge of the other and the Statute of Secrecy would be a relic of the past."
"That sounds good, at least in theory. Was this anyone I've heard of?"
Dumbledore gave a wry smile. "He was Bathilda Bagshot's nephew, recently departed from Durmstrang at their request. His name was Gellert Grindelwald."
Harry gaped, too astonished to make a coherent reply. "No…"
"I am afraid it is true, and we were as close as friends could possibly be. I was infatuated to the point of losing my common sense. When our plans began to include the subjugation of Muggles for the "Greater Good" as we called it, my brother Aberforth became agitated and argumentative with us. To my eternal shame, I fought back and one time the tempers flared enough that wands were drawn and the three of us, myself, my brother, and Gellert - began a vicious duel that lasted until my sister Ariana was dead, hit by a wayward curse.
"She was such a sweet soul, but could not attend school due to her wild magic from an attack by local boys when she was very young. We never knew who was responsible for the spell that ended her life, but Gellert left, Aberforth avoided me from that point forward, and guilt had laid a dark shroud across my consciousness. I knew I was not to be trusted with power, for it would overcome me and corrupt my motivations, seeping through me just like the withering curse that I ignored to my own mortal peril.
"I would not let you suffer my fate, Harry, and you have convictions that run deep and keep you well anchored. So together we protected young Draco's soul, but his was not the only one at risk."
Harry stared, trying to take all of this in, and he could think of no one else who would be involved in Malfoy's plotting, unless…
"You can't be talking about Snape?"
"Assume for a moment that Draco had me at his advantage and could not bring himself to perform the task. His Head of House is nearby along with others in the service of Voldemort, and we have already discussed what failure would mean to Draco and his family."
"You think Snape would murder you just to protect Malfoy?"
"Severus Snape walks an unbelievably difficult path, fraught with dangerous pitfalls at every step. Yes, I believe he would perform that service for Draco, and I had already given him permission to do so."
Harry banged his fist on the settee armrest, incredulous at what he was hearing. "Yet you're still okay with me being responsible for your death? Am I less than Malfoy or Snape?"
"Less than them, Harry? Certainly not. And according to your discussions with Alastor, the Ministry is not blaming you at all. Yes, I'm sure you feel anger and resentment towards me, and that is healthy and normal. For as you are sure I have wronged you, there are also other consequences that you might consider as potentially beneficial."
"What? How could this possibly be a good thing?"
"Harry, you know what awaits you. The enemy once believed you were an innocent child of little talent. Instead, now they are aware that you can fight back, and being a blooded warrior, you will not hold back. In short, only the strongest of them will approach you without a modicum of fear, and that is an advantage you have never enjoyed before."
"Professor, are you saying that killing you has given me street cred?"
He beamed. "That is how the Muggles would say it, yes."
Harry shook his head. "I've always heard you were a barmy old codger, but I never believed it until now."
o o o
The following morning found owls delivering the latest Daily Prophet to students and staff in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
"Oh, no," moaned Hermione, reading the unfolding headlines. "Rita Skeeter is writing again."
"It' 'but 'arry, innit?" Ron mumbled through scrambled eggs.
"No doubt it's about Harry," sighed Ginny, wiping egg debris from her sleeve. "Could you swallow first, Ron?"
"Sorry," her brother replied. "What's it say?"
"It's called 'The Wayward Wand of Our Supposed Savior, Has Harry Potter Lost Control?' and - what's so funny?" Hermione said, scowling at Ginny who had just dissolved into a fit of giggles. "She goes on about how he killed Albus Dumbledore in a fit of uncontrolled passion and compares it to what she calls 'The Hogsmeade Incident," where Katie got cursed. She's claiming he's dangerous to be around, and praises Hogwarts staff for removing him from the school. It's her usual load of incendiary tosh."
"Nothing unusual then," said Ron.
"It plays into that other thing he wrote about last night," Ginny said in a low voice. "The fear of fighting him will only increase."
"I still don't buy into that," Hermione protested. "That doesn't seem at all like something the headmaster would do."
"Plots within plots," Ron mused. "Just like chess."
o o o
"I can't decide whether to laugh or scream," sighed Harry, staring at the Daily Prophet, "but thanks for bringing it over. I suppose I need to keep up on what shite the public is being fed about me."
"I know what you mean," agreed Remus, sitting across the kitchen table in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place. "Do you need me to do anything about this?"
"Probably not. I can see Dumbledore telling me this is actually a good thing," said Harry, remembering he did exactly that the previous evening.
"In an odd sort of way, I suppose you're right. Albus had strange methods sometimes. I'm just glad you're not stuck in your usual puddle of guilt for something that wasn't your fault."
Harry decided to use the opportunity to plant the seeds of truth. "Mad-Eye's trip in the pensieve was a big help. Best I can figure, the headmaster had several reasons to do what he did - he was about to die anyway, and he knew that Malfoy was under orders to kill him. He probably didn't want Draco to become a killer, so took himself out of the picture."
"Interesting theories, Harry. Can I share those with the Order?"
Harry shrugged, smiling internally. "Sure, why not?"
"I do worry about you here alone. I wish we had some way to keep in touch. I recall that James and Sirius created a pair of small two-way mirrors. There's no telling what became of them…"
But Harry was no longer listening, instead picturing a small rectangular package - a gift from Sirius before his fifth year - and it lay untouched in the bottom of his school trunk.
o