Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 17—part 41

March 18 –continued

My head was spinning and my mind was swimming –which, altogether, made for a terribly sickening kind of feeling. There was far too much information and far too many things revealed in a single sitting to make the acceptance period an easy one.

It grew harder for me to breathe, making me feel like the weight of all the knowledge I had acquired was pressing heavily down on me. I took a few deep and calculated breaths, trying to calm myself and let my mind wrap around everything that was being said. Others around the room seemed to be attempting the same feat, though all with little success.

“Your brother was working with my parents?” Harry asked, his voice rife with incredulity and wonder.

“He did,” Dumbledore said, nodding his silver head. “But he forfeited his position in the Ministry before your Lily and James were murdered or even went into hiding. It is mainly due to this reason that Rookwood had sole ownership of the second key.”

There was something off about this situation. There was something deeper to it… something important that Dumbledore seemed to be hesitating to tell us. His electric blue eyes had turned a different hue and become slightly harder as he spoke. Was it possible for the colours of a painting to change like that?

Even a magical one?

“Why did he give up his position?” Tonks asked, considering the wording as she did. I had almost forgotten she was here. I looked around the group carefully and reminded myself that the She-Weasel and Lovegood were also there.

But McGonagall was not.

“Well it was largely due to the inquiries he faced with the other Department in the Ministry,” Dumbledore explained, slightly stressed. “The investigation was related to the very secret work they were doing in the Department of Mysteries and rather than be forced to unveil their research, Aberforth quit the Ministry and faced the charges as a solitary agent. I suppose it was both brave and foolish of him, but here we are.”

I’ve realized that, if Harry and the other Gryffindors get their aggravating power of being obnoxiously cryptic from anyone, it HAD to have been Dumbledore.

There is no better explanation. He is the reason that all the Gryffindors in existence are simply incapable of formulating a clear and concise sentence.

“What exactly did he do to merit an inquiry?” I asked, rather skeptical and feeling displeased with the idea that everyone else in the room might have understood the message. Lovegood, of course, is not a Gryffindor, but that’s never stopped her from “understanding” absolutely nonsensical things before.

Harry perked up and the slightest bemused smile drew itself on his lips.

“Didn’t you say, once, that he faced charges for using inappropriate charms on a goat?” Harry asked, clearly trying to use the precise wording that he’d heard before. Dumbledore did not look quite as amused as Harry seemed to want him to be, though a strange gleam met his eyes.

“Indeed,” the old wizard’s portrait responded. “That is precisely the inquiry I’m referring to. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not at all pleased to find that goat lodged between their cubicles with only half of its insides and even less of its fur.”

The only appropriate reaction to a comment like that is a long and unending silence. Which is what followed until…

“Did he poison the goat with Snorkblats?” Lovegood asked abruptly. “If he did, I could understand why he would want to place the animal in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They’ve been denying the presence of Snorkblats Side-effects for years now.”

Dumbledore’s face broke into a sweet smile and he turned his attention to Lovegood.

“I’m afraid not, my dear Luna,” he answered. “The goat’s appearance in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was entirely unintentional.”

The rest of us simply did not know what to say after that. But Lovegood smiled knowingly and nodded and somehow I found myself smirking as well. I almost immediately cursed myself for allowing myself to become so attached to all of these misfit characters… all these unlikely heroes… though I suppose I’m just as much of an unlikely hero as they are now…

Never considered myself a hero. Don’t think I ever really will be.

“What was he using the goat for, then?” Harry asked, unable to find an expression to aptly display both his amusement and his anxiety.

“He was using the poor beast for their research,” Dumbledore explained, though his tone and expression were indecipherable. “Albeit illegally, Aberforth was testing his theories on the animal and using many an illegal means of doing it.”

“Oh for goodness’ sake, Albus,” a gruff voice from behind us suddenly came booming and annoyed. I spun around to see McGonagall standing in the entrance to the office with a tall man. He had an incredible amount of long grey hair and a beard, though it would never rival his brother’s. And much contrary to Dumbledore, his beard and hair were not straight and well-maintained, but wild and unruly. “Why don’t you just come out and say it, instead of beating around the bush like that! Go ahead and tell them!” he insisted. “No, forget it Albus. I’ll tell them.” He turned to the rest of us. “I was testing my theories on travel between the Living World and the Deathly Hallows. I used a great deal of Blood and Soul Magic to attempt these things and spent a great deal of time behind the locked door. The goat was my test subject and my greatest achievement came the same day that I was forced to quit the Ministry.”

I wasn’t sure what I should be feeling at that moment, but shock was definitely high up on the list of possibilities.

First and foremost, I assumed that this man was none other than Abeforth Dumbledore, though I had never actually met him before, nor had I ever seen a photograph of him.

Secondly, judging from his appearance, his demeanor and his way of speaking, I’d say that he was quite the odd-sheep in the Dumbledore family.

Finally, how should anyone take that kind of information??

“Your greatest achievement?” Granger asked, apparently more informed (for once) than I was, thus unphased by this man’s sudden appearance.

“Yes,” he answered calmly, stepping forward. “The appearance of that goat in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, however wounded, was proof that it was indeed possible to travel between the two worlds and make it back alive.”

“But the goat only had half its insides!” Granger burst out, apparently appalled by the idea that this condition could be referred to as ‘living’. I can’t say that I was any more impressed than she was at the moment.

Aberforth Dumbledore shook his messy head.

“My dear girl,” he said, exasperated. “Surely you can’t think that I stopped my research right there? Not once I’d gotten so far! I was no longer part of the Ministry but I did indeed continue to refine the magic and the arrangement of spells I used. The point I’m making is that, while the goat returned unfinished, the effects were similar to splinching. I figured if I continued to tweak the magic I was using, eventually I’d come up with the right spell.”

I considered the words. He had been doing much the same thing my father had done, though for a different purpose entirely. He used Blood and Soul magic against a poor creature… but wait.

How did he use Blood and Soul Magic against a non-magic creature??

“Hold on,” I told him, rubbing my temples with my index and thumb. “A goat is a non-magic creature, thus it doesn’t have Blood or Soul Magic. How did you use spells against it that rely on those two factors??”

He gave me a hard look, one that betrayed none of his emotions and none of his intentions and reminded me horribly of my father.

“There is one way to infuse a non-magic creature or person with Soul Magic for a time,” the portrait said grimly, recalling our attention. “And Aberforth should thank his lucky stars that he was never caught for using it.”

“How do you do that?” I asked, wondering how I had never come across information like this in my reading. I turned my attention back to Aberforth, whose expression had not changed, though his eyes were now trained the portrait of his brother.

“You can forcibly make a non-magic creature magical,” he said quietly. “By summoning a spirit from the Deathly Hallows and forcing it to possess the creature. That spirit brings with it enough of its original Soul Magic to allow the creature to sustain the ancient spells I needed to use.”

Well…

That answered that question.

Much to my dismay.

I felt like vomiting.

“That sounds like Dark Magic,” Harry muttered, looking at Aberforth with wide eyes.

“It is Dark Magic,” Remus whispered, looking uncomfortable.

“But it did the job, did it not?” Aberforth claimed. “How many times have Aurors been forced to use the Unforgivable Curses to apprehend or stop criminals? How many times have you used a Dark Curse or two in your lifetime, Albus?” he turned his eyes to each of us in turn. “Indeed, who of you can truly say that they’ve never used Dark Magic in their lives. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions and at least with mine I managed to pave a way back from Hell as well.”

I couldn’t deny what he said. I couldn’t for a moment consider myself any more innocent than he was and it was true that at least his actions were intent on achieving something good. My own uses and abuses of Dark Magic had never offered a non-poisonous fruit.

“So, you’ve actually managed to perfect the process?” Harry asked, altering the subject slightly.

“No magic is perfect,” Aberforth admitted. “But I’ve managed to make it as safe as it’s ever going to get.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore added. “Aberforth has mastered the ability to send living beings to the Deathly Hallows and have them return unharmed. He is the only one who has ever managed to do so.”

“But what about Fortescue’s Incantation?” Harry asked. “The one Voldemort plans to use. Isn’t that a way to travel there and back unharmed?”

“Florean’s Incantation was created hundreds of years ago,” Dumbledore explained. “It was forged by Merlin himself and laid out in detail to allow future generations of wizards to use it to their needs. He made sure, however, that only very powerful wizards could manage to complete the incantation and yet never actually tested it. No one has ever used it and thus there is no telling what the actual repercussions might be. However, I imagine that if Voldemort can manage at least the first part of the spell and make it to the Deathly Hallows without dying, he would rely largely on the power he would absorb from the place to find his way back.”

Harry sighed deeply and leaned on his knees, holding his head in his hands. I don’t know why this happens to me, but I can’t deal with seeing him like that. I leaned over to him and stayed close to him, offering my support without saying a word.

“This is too much,” Harry whispered. “This is just too much to take in, too much to deal with… too much… I can’t… god I just can’t…”

I felt a pang in my heart and wished I could tell him that he was right. And he was right. It was too much. He shouldn’t have to face this. None of us should. I wanted to tell him that we didn’t have to. That he didn’t have to. That we could just run off together and be happy somewhere far away… Forget about Voldemort and Death-Eaters and the Deathly Hallows and the dead and just move on… run away for good.

I wanted so badly to tell him that but there was nothing for it. We couldn’t run. He couldn’t run. This was our war now and this was for our future.

I suppose that maybe somewhere deep down I still have hope that I’ll make it through the war and survive… just so I can be with Harry afterwards… just so we can be happy together… if only for a while.

“Harry” Dumbledore said quietly. “I never wanted this for you. No one ever did. Not a soul here has the right to judge you for how you feel or for your doubts. Not a soul here could ever fully understand… but each and every person present has faith in you and that faith has never wavered. Each one of the people present will fight with you to the end and stand alongside you to at that final battle… and there are many more among them, I know. So doubt, Harry. Feel free to doubt. Let their faith carry you when yours alone cannot.”

Harry looked up at the portrait in front of him, thoughtful and considering. I thought on Dumbledore’s words and realized that he did know what he was talking about. It was true what he said, even including me. Throughout all my years of knowing Harry, no matter how much I hated him or wanted to hate him or whatever… I did have faith in him. I never doubted he would come out on top…

Which sadly annoyed me more than anything else, at the time.

In fact, on some levels, it’s still rather aggravating.

“But how am I supposed to do this?” he asked fairly. “How am I supposed to stop Voldemort? How am I supposed to get not only myself, but all these people who want to fight with me, over to the Deathly Hallows and back again? I’m not an exceptionally powerful wizard and I’ve no time to learn any complex incantations. Not with all the help in the world could I manage to do it in time to meet Voldemort on the other side!”

Dumbledore nodded and accepted Harry’s worries completely.

“This is why it does often pay to have an…ah, eccentric brother,” he replied cheekily choosing his words. Aberforth huffed. “Aberforth, if you will.”

Dumbledore’s brother stepped forward.

“While I can cast protective spells using Blood Magic and Soul Magic on you all,” he explained. “That, it is true, will not get you over there. Those spells will assure you that your souls will remain attached to your bodies and will not give in to the vacuum effect of the Hallows once you first enter and then exit.” I tensed at the words, sorely reminded of the spell my father had used on me to prevent me from dying due to the intense torture. “The spell I shall cast will sustain you for on Apparition and one alone to get you back to the world of the Living. So use it wisely. After your return here, the spell will expire and your Blood and Soul Magic will return to normal. Do you understand?”

I relaxed very slightly though I still did not like the idea of having more Soul Magic cast upon me.

“Yes, but if the spell is only good for one Apparition,” Harry began carefully. “Then how do we get there in the first place?”

“Do we need to use an incantation like the one Voldemort will use?” Granger asked, her brow furrowed in thought.

“There is one other way for living beings to pass between the worlds,” Aberforth explained tentatively, glancing at the portrait of his brother. “Though it relies more on chance than skill.”

“What is it?” Harry asked immediately.

“It is possible to pass through the worlds,” he said slowly. “By calling to the souls of those that have been lost and appealing to the lives they once lived. If you can manage to call to your loved ones, they can summon you through to the other side, but cannot send you back. The incantation Voldemort intends to use is one that forces entry into the Deathly Hallows. The alternative allows you to enter as guests – so-to-speak – and is much easier on the body.”

I arched a brow at his words but accepted them nonetheless. He was, after all, the master of this subject.

“So how to we call to our loved ones, pray tell?” I asked, hoping that my incredulity didn’t come through too clearly.

“It requires the use of a very specific object,” Aberforth continued. “Something of particular importance or meaning to one of your loved ones… something you can contact them with, or something that you have used in the past as a means of contact. I advise you to use the most powerful and meaningful object you can find.”

Harry (and everyone really) thought hard for a long moment, trying to come up with something good enough to use. Something with enough power… enough meaning.

“Well, there are the coins that we used to contact each other about D.A. meetings,” Harry suggested and then a grim expression ghosted over his face. “Neville has died, after all… it would be meaningful to him. But it isn’t very big… and not very powerful. It was just a means of sending messages.”

“No I don’t think that will do,” Aberforth nixed, looking rather disappointed. Dumbledore cleared his throat calmly.

“Harry, if I am not mistaken,” Dumbledore’s portrait said quietly. “You still have that two-way mirror that Sirius gave you at the beginning of your fifth year, do you not?”

Harry gasped and his face paled as he thought of the object he had so clearly forgotten.

“I do,” he replied. “I still have Sirius’ mirror. But does he have his? On the other side… I mean…”

“He doesn’t need his,” Aberforth explained. “He is a soul. He does not need to reply to your call, he just needs a means through which he can pull you through. The mirror will be strong enough, I think. It can be used as a makeshift portkey and transport as many of you that can touch it as possible.”

Harry looked pale and sick and he set his jaw in such a manner that made it seem as though he was desperately trying not to vomit. I know that feeling all too well.

“Great,” he said with false enthusiasm. “Now all I need is the key to get into the Ministry, an adequate distraction, not to mention a tip off to when Voldemort will be going about his grand master plan, a way to kill him and Nagini, then be able to get myself and everyone else back to the world of the Living and we’re good. Yeah this is going to be loads of fun. I can’t believe we didn’t try this earlier.”

I fought my impulse to smirk at his words. He was right in his frustrated despair… he was right.

“Harry, please,” Remus said quietly. “We know this is a huge responsibility… that it is more than anyone can ever deal with. But we will be there. We will not let you fight alone. That seems like little consolation at the prospect of having to defeat Voldemort yourself, but we will always be by your side.”

“And I believe I have answers for your questions,” Dumbledore added. “Voldemort will need an adequate distraction as well to make his move. You will hear of his movements from the articles in the Daily Prophet, so read it closely. He will likely act and cause massive attacks all around England, in both the wizarding world and the muggle world to dispatch as many Aurors, Ministry officials and Order members as possible. No one in the Order must respond to these attacks. You must all ignore your better judgment and leave for the Ministry as soon as you receive word.

“Secondly, as I said before, you parents had the other key to the locked door.” Dumbledore paused momentarily. “Lily and James left the key in my possession along with your Invisibility Cloak for me to give you to when the time was right. I gave you the cloak as soon as you came to Hogwarts and find no better time than now to give you the key. As I knew my death was imminent, I handed the key over to my brother for protection. Aberforth.”

Turning to Dumbledore’s brother, we saw him pull a strange object hanging from a golden chain out of his pocket. The pendant on the end was no shape at all, but simply a fluid transition from one image to the next. It did not look tangible as he held it out. The chain was hanging from his wrist and the intangible key floated dreamily above his palm.

Harry reached out and took the object. His fingers wrapped around it but he found that he could not actually touch the thing… there was a force pushing his fingers away, as though he was holding pure energy or pure magic. The golden chair dematerialized and reformed around Harry’s wrist instead as he surveyed it.

“You will know what to do with that once you come to the door,” Aberforth said. “There is no other way to explain it.”

Harry simply nodded and slipped it into his pocket.

“Finally, as for the matter of killing Voldemort and Nagini,” Dumbledore stated quietly. “Nagini will follow Voldemort to the Deathly Hallows. She, in some sense, will likely be his fall-back. The fact that his soul is separated into two pieces will make it more difficult for the vacuum of the Hallows to tear his soul from him.” There was a suddenly distant call in a beautiful melody. “I want you to take Fawkes with you, Harry.”

There was a rustle of feathers and, from somewhere behind me, Dumbledore’s brilliant and fiery phoenix swooped in to perch longingly on the top of Dumbledore’s portrait.

“Fawkes will protect you,” he continued. “He will protect all of you and serve you in the last battle, however he is required. He can help you more than you know.” Fawkes cooed softly and bowed his great and beautiful head to the group. “Once you destroy Nagini, of course, remains the task of defeated Lord Voldemort.”

“Yes, just that,” Harry replied with a mite of sarcasm. Dumbledore ignored the comment.

“I do not want you to use the Killing Curse, Harry,” he stated bluntly. I blinked. Then what was he to use?

“Then how do I kill him?” Harry demanded. “I doubt he’ll stay still long enough to die of blood loss from something like Sectumsempra.”

“I cannot tell you exactly how you will do it,” Dumbledore answered cryptically. “But you will know what it is you need to do. Do whatever seems right, Harry. You will know when the time comes… you will know.”

Harry ran his palms over his face and bit his lip hard, trying to force down the rampant emotions that clearly wanted to burst from him.

“You still have a choice Harry,” Dumbledore whispered sadly. “Will you do what is right? Or will you do what is easy?”

Harry looked up with a determined face but dead eyes.

“Voldemort robbed me of that choice sixteen years ago,” he answered harshly. “Nothing has ever been easy for me and nothing every will be. I am cursed by this prophecy. He made me his enemy… he has forged a saviour out of me and I have no choice but to accept that now. I will do what is right. I will fight him and defeat him. But I will not pretend that I have a choice and I will not pretend that I’m doing this solely because I want to… because I chose to.” He paused and looked at the ground for a moment. “Though I do know, that if given the real choice, my actions would be no different.”

His words cut through each of us like knives and I felt a boiling rage rise in my chest as I thought of the unfair road that Harry was made to walk. I thought of how my ambitions have always been to succeed and become important… powerful… renown…

But now I know better. Now I know better than to think that all my childish dreams were as perfect and ideal as I thought they were. I know now what renown gets you… what fame brings.

Fame is fickle. And power is subjective.

“Do you have any other information for us?” Harry asked finally, realizing that no one else had any intention of breaking the silence.

“No, Harry,” Dumbledore whispered. “Aberforth will go to Grimmauld Place in a day’s time to cast all the appropriate spells. I cannot but offer my most profound apologies for everything, Harry.” He nodded gently.

“Thank you, professor,” he answered quietly. Everyone in the room looked grim. “We should probably be going now.”

“I understand,” Dumbledore agreed. “Good luck. To all of you.”

We nodded and made to leave. I got up after Harry and turned to leave the room but Dumbledore stopped me.

“Draco,” he whispered. I turned and looked back into those electric blue eyes for the last time. “You have never disappointed me. Not from the moment you walked into the school. I daresay I knew you better than you knew yourself.” My breath caught in my chest and I swallowed hard, wondering what he was getting at. “He needs you now more than every, Draco. You know this. My only advice to you is, for once, ignore your head and listen to your heart. Only your heart will lead you in the right direction… always.”

I nodded quickly after a moment, fighting against the overwhelming feelings that coursed through me, then I turned and quickly left the room, running to catch up with the others as we headed back to the edge of the grounds.

There was a hidden warning in Dumbledore’s words, I kept thinking… a hidden promise to the future.

I tried to tell myself that I understood exactly what he meant by ‘listen to my heart’.

But I don’t really know… and I’m scared.

I’m so scared…

-------IIIIIII-------

A/N: Wow more craziness and more heavy hearted people. That was rough and it’s going to get rougher, but as might seem obvious, it’s getting very close to the end. Hopefully by the end of the week it will be done. I say hopefully, but I’m also rather sad to see this come to a close.

A mixed blessing I guess…

I hope this chapter was alright… it was rough to write… so much to get in… without giving everything away. Don’t you hate it when people say things like “You’ll know when you see it” or things like that?

I do. Harry does too. So does Draco.

Yep.

Ah well.

I LOVE YOU ALL! I’m kind of looking forward to finishing this because I’ll finally be able to catch up with all the fanfics that I’ve been wanting to read but have fallen behind on… but… I love writing Draco’s perspective. I do. I love him so much. I dunno, he’s my secret alter-ego I think. AHHH I’m so scared for the book now!

Ok I’ll stop rambling.

You will indeed get Harry-on-Draco action, I promise you. No worries. I will deliver, haha.

Thank you for the support and reviews and everything! All of your kind words lift my spirits (which have been dangerously low lately, sad I know..) and encourage me to continue!

I just hope that other fics I write after this will be able to satisfy you as well!

Actually, here’s hoping that the book satisfies us all as well, lol!

Love and cookies and cupcakes and sweets and smut to all!