Something Worth Fighting For
A/N
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TBR
Educational Decree Number 17
Due to continuous rule-breaking, Professor Umbridge has appointed a selection of students that will act as her representatives.
' The Inquisitorial Squad' has been granted the same authority as Prefects and can be identified by the gold badge they wear containing the letter 'I'.
They must be treated with the same respect given to a Prefect!
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"I'll give you one guess what students she has chosen," Neville snorted from next to her.
Hermione nodded.
There was only one group of students that she would choose, and they were not ones that would miss an opportunity to cause problems for those from other houses. It was no secret the woman showed favouritism towards the Slytherins and they were happy to latch on to someone in a position of power. As such, they were now seemingly reaping the benefits of doing so.
"We will still meet," she declared. "We can't let her win."
"We will," Neville agreed. "We need to more than ever."
Hermione shot a glance at the boy who had recently adopted a rather grim demeanour. She didn't know why, but he was on edge more than usual, though not nervous from it. He appeared to be determined to be prepared for something. Of what? She did not know but the changes within him could not be missed.
"I will send a message out. We can use the second abandoned classroom on the third floor."
He said nothing as he left, and she found herself wondering just what had gotten into him recently. He was not himself and it had begun to unsettle her. Perhaps he needed someone to talk to?
She sighed as she followed in his wake.
Neville was not one to open up about his life away from the school. All she knew about him was that he lived with his gran and that she spent a lot of her time teaching him about the workings of the Wizengamot. Little else.
She shook her heads of her thoughts of the boy. There was something much more pressing to attend to, and she removed her charmed galleon to do so. With a tap of her wand, the message was sent and all that remained was to see out the rest of the day until the group could gather once more.
It passed slowly. Even without a lesson with Umbridge, it crawled painstakingly by beginning with transfiguration, followed by potions, herbology, arithmancy and finally, charms.
Wherever she went, she saw the older students clad in green and silver with their new badges pinned to their chests, their walks more certain, pompous even. She had no doubt it would divide the school and create a conflict that Umbridge was not equipped to deal with.
With such worries plaguing her mind, she arrived at the classroom on the third floor shortly before eight pm, ensuring that she was not followed and was pleased that the rest seemed to be as keen as she to continue with their efforts. All that had signed her parchment were in attendance, much to her relief.
"Do you think this is a good idea?" Lavender Brown questioned. "Umbridge will go spare if she catches us."
There were a few nods of agreement amongst those gathered.
"I understand you're worried," Hermione acknowledged, "but she has left us with no choice. It's either this or we fail our exams."
"She's right," Neville added. "It's not just about exams. Even my gran knows something is going on out there. It's not just a coincidence those prisoners escaped, and we need to be prepared. The last war went on for years and will probably still be happening when we finish here. It will be up to us to fight it one day."
It was a sobering thought for the teens, and not a welcome one. It was seldom that finding glory in war was what one dreamed of, not when such a thing would soon be a reality.
"So, what are we doing tonight?" George Weasley asked.
Hermione offered him a grateful smile.
"I thought for the first half, we could work on the spells we need for our OWLs and NEWTs and then practice with Bludgeoning Curses."
"I think that is a good idea," Neville declared. "I think we are up to page thirty-one?"
"We are," Susan Bones confirmed. "Should we work in pairs?"
"We should. If you are struggling with the spell, then ask for help. That is why we are here," Hermione reminded them.
The students split off and set to work and did so with urgency. Their time was limited and not a second was to be wasted.
"Well, well, well what do we have here?" a voice spoke loudly, pulling them all from their work.
Hermione turned to see a dozen or more students had entered the room whilst they had been working. They were dressed in the green and silver of Slytherin house, each with a dreaded golden badge adorning the front of their robes.
"Professor Umbridge will be very disappointed to hear of this," Draco Malfoy declared smugly.
"Ah, bollocks," one of the Weasley twins groaned as the blonde grinned triumphantly.
(Break)
"How is it that it is our turn to do another patrol?" Harry muttered as he and Padma worked their way through the fifth-floor corridors.
"You know, you never struck me as someone who would moan so much," she replied. "It's one evening a month, suck it up, Potter."
"Carry on like that and you won't get any extra help with your transfiguration," he returned. "I will moan if I want to."
"Then carry on by all means."
He shook his head as he discreetly removed the map from within his robes.
"Bloody hell," he sighed as he took in the gathering of students two floors below and another heading in their direction.
"What?" Padma despaired, expecting another tirade of annoyance from him.
He pocketed the map once more, pondering what he should do about the impending problem.
"Do you know about the idiots meeting on the third floor?"
Padma's steps faltered and she turned to him, a look of surprise marring her features. Knowing they had been found out, she released a deep breath and nodded.
"We've been meeting for weeks," she whispered. "I would have been there if we didn't have duty tonight."
Harry shook his head in disbelief. He had warned Hermione, urged her to not proceed with her plans. Evidently, she had not listened and Umbridge would now have a field day with all the punishments there would be to dispense of. Making his mind up, he shot her a look of irritation.
"Go back to the common room and make sure you are seen," he instructed. "It will do you no good to be a part of what will happen next."
"What do you mean?"
"Just go, Padma," he said firmly as he turned in the opposite direction and headed towards the staircase.
He descended the two flights, his irritation growing, and when he came upon the room it was to find that he was too late to intercept the group of Slytherins. They were already within and had made their presence known.
"Ah, bollocks," he heard one of the students utter.
He entered behind the 'Inquisitorial Squad' who had drawn their wands and he cast a silencing charm and basic containment ward on the door.
"Bollocks is right, Weasley," he agreed, drawing the attention of all within towards him. "Now, the question is; just how do we deal with this problem?"
"This has nothing to do with you, Potter," a seventh year Slytherin spat.
"I am making it so it does," Harry replied. "I would suggest you do not even think about raising your wand, not unless you want to keep the hand that holds it."
The boy laughed disbelievingly.
"I would not doubt my word," he warned, "isn't that right, Draco?"
Malfoy had paled, seemingly torn between his opportunity to make the lives of those caught hell and fleeing at Harry's appearance.
"Put your wand away, Pucey," he instructed.
The boy appeared to be confused by the sudden turn of events.
"Last chance, Pucey."
"Bloody hell just put it away, you fool," Malfoy all but pleaded.
Taken aback by the change of demeanour of the boy, he pocketed it.
"There's a good boy," Harry mocked. "Now, I have come to a decision and you will all accept it. Hermione, you will disband these meetings. There will be no more of them. I will know if you do not listen. Isn't that right, Fred and George?"
The twins nodded reluctantly, likely now regretting giving him the map.
"You can't do that," Hermione protested.
"I can and I have, now be quiet or I will let them take you all to Umbridge and she will have you expelled."
Her eyes widened at the thought and she fell reluctantly silent.
Offering her a final look of warning he turned once more to the blonde and those he led.
"You will tell Umbridge that you found nothing and then you will hand in your badges and resign your positions."
They murmured their dissent and Harry cut them off.
"If you don't, then I will make sure that every single day you wear those badges are miserable. I will hound you and I will do to you twice over what you do to others."
"We aren't scared of you, Potter. Professor Umbridge…"
"Is nothing and one day soon, she will be gone. She cannot protect you. Even Lucius cannot keep his own son safe from me, what makes you think she can? I am giving you this one chance to walk away whilst you can."
Seeing his words were not being taken seriously, he continued.
"How many of you will one day be on the Wizengamot? Come on, a show of hands!"
Several of the students raised them, giving him a questioning look.
"So, most of you," Harry acknowledged the Slytherins that had done so. "Well, think of it this way; how many of you wish to incur the wrath of House Black? I am the heir and will be the Lord in less than two years."
"I am the heir of House Black," Malfoy seethed.
"Do you wish to put that to the test, Draco?"
"My father…"
Harry cut him off with a slap, shocking those looking on.
"Your father is nothing, he is less than Umbridge and will be dead soon enough. Remember my warning, Malfoy."
The boy clutched his cheek and trembled.
"Did you write to him? Did you tell him what I promised? Of course, you did. You're a coward and can't do anything without the snivelling bootlicker to rely on. What did he say, Draco?"
Malfoy swallowed deeply and shook his head, refusing to answer.
"He told you to keep your head down and not provoke me. You're doing a very poor job of listening, so, you will hand in your badges, all of you, or I will make good on my promise much sooner."
"Alright!" Malfoy conceded unhappily.
"Good, now piss off. Just the sight of you makes me want to hurt you."
With a flick of his wand, he removed the containment ward and Malfoy stormed from the room, followed by those accompanying him. When their footsteps faded, Harry turned back to the others, those who had been meeting secretly. They stared at him nervously, his reaction having not been what they had expected.
"How stupid can you seriously be," he huffed.
"We don't want to fail our exams," Hermione defended. "It's alright for you, you already passed yours."
Harry nodded his understanding and deflated.
"I get that, I do, but what you are doing will just get you all in trouble. Fucking hell, if you fail your exams, you can resit them. Umbridge will not be here forever but whilst she is, you all need to keep your heads down."
"You don't," Neville pointed out.
"Because I have no reason to," Harry bit back. "The worst she can do is expel me, and as Hermione pointed out, I've already finished most of my own exams. Listen, she started her grievance with me, and she will end up worst off for it. How would your grandmother feel if you were to be expelled?"
Neville frowned but was prevented by Hermione speaking in his place.
"It isn't just about that. You said that You-Know-Who is back. Shouldn't we be preparing for that?"
Harry shook his head somewhat amusedly.
"Tell me, Granger, what interest in you does Voldemort have? Any of you for that matter. I can assure you, he is not preoccupied by thoughts of fighting a bunch of school students. No offense, but none of you are exactly top of his priority list. His focus will be on people in positions of power."
"Like my aunt?" Susan Bones broke in.
"Like your aunt who is, from what I hear, a very gifted and smart witch who will be prepared accordingly. It is not your responsibility to think of him."
"But it's yours?" Ron Weasley questioned.
"Yes, because he has decided to try to kill me since I was a baby and still wants me dead. I'm not the way I am because of some misplaced desire for glory. I am the way I am because I have to be, or I will die. Don't rush to be a part of something you have no understanding or experience of. You will only get yourselves killed."
"We are doing really well," Hermione defended.
Harry snorted disbelievingly.
"Well enough to fight Death Eaters?"
When none answered he shrugged.
"That's what I thought. Unless you have experienced what they are capable of, then you will never understand it and those that do often end up dead."
"I understand it," Neville interjected hotly.
"No, you don't," Harry denied forcefully. "I would have thought with what happened to your parents, you would be the one with some sense, Longbottom."
The other students began murmuring amongst themselves, questioning what Harry meant and Neville reddened, though not from embarrassment.
"What right do you have to tell me what I can and can't do?" he demanded.
"None," Harry answered, "but getting yourself killed would be a poor way to repay them for the sacrifice they made."
"I won't be the one dying," Neville growled eliciting a laugh from Harry.
"So, you're going to do what? Hunt down the Lestranges and kill all three? Is that your plan?"
"If I have to."
"Then you are an idiot," Harry declared. "They are some of his most dangerous followers. Your parents, two of the best aurors of their generation by all accounts did not stand a chance. What makes you think you would?"
Neville was breathing heavily by now, his eyes narrowed as his grip tightened around his wand.
"If you want to try and curse me, Longbottom, then do it," Harry urged. "I am only trying to stop you doing something stupid. I am sorry for what happened to them, your mum and dad, but vengeance will only get you killed."
"Well, what is it you're doing?"
"I am trying to live, Longbottom," Harry hissed. "I do not have the luxury of staying out of this. He is coming for me and will do so until one of us is dead. I would prefer that to be him but do not make the mistake of thinking I am enjoying all of this. If I could, I would walk away. I can't do that because he would find me."
"Why? Why is he so interested in you?"
"Because he is a nutter," Harry snorted. "He tried to kill me several times and has failed. His ego won't let him let me live, so I have to be ready for that."
"So, he really is back?" Lavender Brown asked.
Harry nodded.
"What reason would I have to lie? Why do you think Umbridge is here? She is trying to stop people acknowledging it because Fudge is too much of a coward to do anything about it."
"I believe you, Potter," Lee Jordan offered.
"It doesn't matter if you do or don't," Harry replied with a shrug. "It is happening, so keep your bloody heads down. There's nothing waiting for you except death."
"So, I should just let it go?" Neville spat.
"Yes, Longbottom, you should. Do whatever you want but when you're staring down the wrong end of one of their wands, it will be too late. I have seen what they're capable of and that wasn't exactly the best of them. There wasn't a Bellatrix Lestrange or an Antonin Dolohov the night of the third task and I barely escaped with my life."
Neville's jaw clenched tightly but he said nothing else.
"I will be watching for these meetings. Do not give her a reason to pay any closer attention to you. I can promise, she will be gone from here. When have we had a defence Professor that has lasted more than a year? All you are doing is giving more reasons for her to have more power in the castle, and that is the last thing any of us needs."
He took his leave from the room, leaving behind a very chastised group of students. Had he not checked the map when he had, the situation could have escalated significantly. They could have decided to fight back against the inquisitorial squad which would have amounted to nothing other than most of them likely being expelled.
Worse yet, they could have gone quietly, and the result would have been the same.
"Idiots," he grumbled as he made his way towards the seventh floor.
(Break)
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that for me please, Mr Malfoy?"
She was as stunned as she was irritated. Finally, she felt that she had devised a way to exert more control over the students with the implementation of the Inquisitorial Squad, and now, they were all deciding to quit after just a day.
"My father has told me that I should keep my head down and not involve myself in what is happening within the school."
"Nothing is happening within the school!"
"Madame Umbridge, I think that you forget that my father is the closest advisor to the Minister. We have all been schooled in politics since we could walk and even we can see what is happening. We do not want any part of it."
She narrowed her eyes at the boy. He was oh so much like Lucius, something she hopped she could use to her advantage. He had influence, he was rather savvy, and his housemates looked up to him.
Seemingly, however, it had backfired.
"What has happened, Draco?" she asked sweetly. "Just yesterday, you were relishing your new position and couldn't wait to begin with the task I set you.
Malfoy shrugged.
"Potter," one of the older boys muttered under his breath.
"Shut up, Pucey," Draco commanded.
"Potter?" Umbridge questioned, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "What has the boy done now."
Draco shook his head as he shot a look of frustration towards his fellow student.
"Nothing," he denied.
"No, it is not nothing. I will have the truth of it."
"Potter has made it clear that we are not to help you," Pucey answered.
Umbridge giggled, though there was little humour to be heard.
"Potter has told you that you cannot help me?"
Pucey nodded.
"The boy is nothing," Dolores hissed. "You are going to allow yourself to be told what to do by the half-blood bastard?"
"My father has advised against provoking him. Potter may not be a threat now, but he will in only a couple of years. He will be the Head of the Black Family and the Potter one. With how the Wizengamot is, his votes could be crucial."
"Oh, Pish," Dolores waved off dismissively. "Potter will not be welcomed as a member."
"And who is going to stop that?" Pansy asked. "Even the Minister cannot interfere with the lines of inheritance. Potter will be on the Wizengamot with a lot of influence."
Dolores shook her head.
"That is something to worry about in the future," she pointed out. "For now, he is nothing but a lying toe-rag that is interfering with ministry business. You should deal with him now before he gets his influence."
Draco snorted and shook his head.
"You will find, Professor, that we value our lives more than we do a bit of power that will mean nothing when we leave here. If you think that there is anyone in this school that can handle him, then you are a fool. Potter is dangerous. We have all seen him duel and he's not stupid enough to show everyone everything it is he can do. In this case, I will take the advice of my father. If you choose to go after him, then that is on you. I will not be involving myself further in your efforts. Good day, Professor," he offered before he left the room with his fellow students in tow.
"Pathetic coward," she growled.
She would not let up. She would find a way to make Potter pay for his transgressions against Cornelius. The boy had made the Minister look bad and had done the very same to her. How dare he think that he can get away with mocking and goading them?
His comeuppance was inevitable. She merely needed to find another way to get to him.
(Break)
Albus Dumbledore pulled himself from the pensieve, his head shaking as he took a seat behind his desk. He helped himself to a sherbet lemon and popped it in his mouth, trying desperately to deny what it was he was now convinced of.
It was Tom, it had to be. Harry was far too advanced in magic for one his age, was far too like the very same boy he had taught so many decades ago. Try as he might, the differences between the two was not enough to offer him the needed comfort. Were he not so emotionally invested in this venture, he would have made his decision long ago. He had clung to the last strand of hope for too long, and now, it may very well be too late. Too late to stop Tom and regretfully too late to save Harry if any modicum of him remained.
No, it had to be him. It was the only conceivable conclusion he could reach.
"How do I handle this, my friend?" he asked his phoenix companion.
Fawkes offered a trill that did little to assuage his worry.
He could not remain in the castle; that was a given. Whatever it was he was doing here, he knew not. Did his other self know of him? If so, were they already working together?
He shook his head confusedly.
From what he had seen, that did not make sense. The two had tried to kill one another the night of the final task.
Unless…
He stood suddenly, his stomach sinking at the realisation.
Harry had been alive, but he had been hit with the Killing Curse, he had seen it for himself. What if Harry had died but the Horcrux remained behind and now inhabited his body.
"Oh, Harry," he sighed sadly.
It was the only explanation that seemed plausible. The evidence he had gathered from his own memories pointing to that devastating conclusion.
But what to do?
He would need to ponder his next course of action carefully. Tom could not be allowed to escape, could not be allowed to join Voldemort. If that were to happen, all would be lost.
Such an occurrence was not something he wanted to fathom, and he knew that he had to tread delicately. At least until he had decided on what to do.
Just what that was, he did not know. What he did know, however, was that the future of wizarding Britain was bleak if what he believed was true and he was unable to mitigate the circumstances appropriately.
(Break)
" I will soon have you free from here, I promise."
" Thank you, Tom," Serana replied gratefully.
He left the chamber after giving her a final rub across her nose. He had grown very fond of the large serpent over the years and he intended to see her in a place she could roam free, away from the darkness and damp she had spent centuries within.
He had found a way, and though it would be no easy feat, he had no reason to believe it would not work. It would take time, several days in fact, but she was worth it and would be in her new home by Christmas day if all went to plan.
He smiled at the thought. She was so dangerous yet had such an innocence about her that it warmed him. None could understand her, none that cared enough to see her happy at least. He was all she had left in this world and he would give her the final years of peace and warmth she craved. She deserved that.
He checked the map and took his leave from Myrtle's bathroom, thankfully having avoided an encounter with the ghost. She was rather unsettling and being in her company did nothing to boost his own mood. As he had hoped and expected, the corridors were free from the students other than the two Hufflepuff prefects who were on duty this evening. Much to his relief, it seemed that Hermione and even the Slytherins had taken his word seriously. The Inquisitorial Squad nor wayward students were things he wanted to add to his list of things that required his attention any further than they already had.
"What do you think you are doing, Potter?" the unwelcome tone of Dolores Umbridge sounded throughout the corridor.
He cringed at the shrillness, the woman's presence irking him immediately.
"That would be none of your concern," he answered simply. "I'm not breaking any of your rules."
"Students are to be in their common rooms by eight pm and it is now almost eleven."
Harry simply pointed to his prefect badge.
"You are not on duty!"
"You didn't say I had to be in your ridiculous decree, you feckless idiot."
She purpled with rage, her jowls trembling comically.
"How dare you speak to me in such a way!"
"How dare you call yourself a professor and walk these halls like you deserve the title," he returned. "You are an idiot, Umbridge. I would have thought that you would have learned not to antagonise me by now."
She took a few calming breaths, a sickly smile tugging at her lips.
"I should have known better than to expect anything more from a half-blooded bastard who cavorts with half-breeds. The Potter line truly has fallen since your father sullied himself with a mudblood and you seem intent on doing the same. At least he had the decency to do so with a human."
His blood pumped through his veins as his fury rose at her words. She could insult him all she liked but he would not allow her to do the same of Fleur and his parents.
"DOLORES!" a voice sounded as he flicked his wand into the palm of his hand.
Dumbledore emerged from the adjoining corridor, his own wand in hand as he stared between the two of them worriedly.
"I think it is best if you return to your quarters."
"I think it is best if she repeats herself," Harry countered.
Umbridge opened her mouth to do so but was silenced with a wave of the headmaster's wand.
"Go, Dolores, before irreparable things are said and done here."
The woman cowered at the fury of Dumbledore and offered him a look of loathing before she complied.
"She is fortunate you arrived when you did, or you would be one professor down."
"That, I do not doubt," Dumbledore muttered unhappily. "Come, Harry, I believe a conversation between the two of us is overdue."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, a frown marring his features.
"To a place I like to go when I need to think about things," the old man answered cryptically.
Harry followed him and was led to the third floor, through a series of corridors and down a trapdoor. There was a rather unpleasant odour about one of the rooms they passed through, but soon enough, they entered one that was familiar.
"Do you remember what happened here, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded as he circled around the mirror that remained. Voldemort believed the philosopher's stone had been hidden within once upon a time. Had he been right?
"This is where Quirrell brought me. He died just over there," he added, pointing to where a faint redness of blood in the stone could still be seen.
It was not something he would ever likely forget. Then, he had been rather weak and unable to defend himself. His mind was not what it was now and certainly not his magic. He had been but a boy and Voldemort had almost succeeded where he had failed many years prior.
"Indeed," Dumbledore replied with a nod.
"What is this mirror? I remember it from before but forgot to ask you about it."
"Ah, this is the Mirror of Erised. I am rather curious as to what it is you see in your reflection. Is it the same as the last?"
Harry stepped in front of it. He appeared as he had the last time, though the age gap had now lessened. He was still older by perhaps a few years, slightly taller than he was now and more mature in appearance. The shadowy figure that had floated around him was no longer there, however, but had been replaced by a very familiar person with more silhouettes around the two of them. None were floating, their feet firmly on the ground. The thing he noticed most was that they were both smiling, carefree even.
"It's different," he answered, his fingers reaching out to touch only to feel the surface of the mirror between him and the bliss he saw. "What does it do?"
"I was hoping that you could tell me."
Harry frowned as he looked upon the artefact.
It was intricately decorated and made of what appeared to be gold. It was not a new piece, was likely several hundred years old judging by the magic he could feel. It was not to dissimilar to what a probe from one versed in the mind arts would feel but it was still different, non-intrusive and not unwelcome.
He read the inscription, the simplicity of deciphering it taking him by surprise.
"I show not your face but your heart's desire," he mumbled as he stared intently at his older self and what it was he seemingly desired. "I imagine this could be quite dangerous. There are those that would get lost in it instead of pursuing what they see."
"Very astute, Harry. As always, you astound me with your skills in deduction."
Harry nodded despite his confusion.
"I don't understand, Professor. Wy did you bring me here?"
"This room was once an integral part to how the school was run. It was a duelling chamber and remains one of the most secure places in the building. The latter is why we are here."
"Because it is secure?"
He received no answer but felt a sudden wave of magic wash over him as a plethora of wards were activated, much older than the magic of the mirror he had been inspecting.
Instinctively, he twirled away from another feeling of magic, this one aimed at his back, and flicked his wand into his hand. Before him stood the headmaster clutching his own, a look like no other he had seen from the man marring his features.
"What the hell are you doing?" he questioned as the spell bounced off the mirror and scorched the opposite wall.
"Did you truly think I would not notice, Tom? How long did you think you could keep up this ruse?" Dumbledore returned as he began circling.
Harry mimicked his steps, keeping a reasonable distance between them. It was neither a confrontation he had ever expected nor one he wanted.
"Tom?" he muttered, surprised by the use of the name. "I am not him."
"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" Dumbledore roared uncharacteristically.
Harry's eyes widened and he was given no opportunity to refute whatever accusation the headmaster had levelled at him. Another beam of magic was sent his way, and not one he would have expected from the older man.
It was a spell that he himself had read in Dumbledore's own notes, and if cast with enough force, it would shatter every bone in his body. Unwilling to experience such an unpleasant thing, he threw himself to the ground and rolled away, the spell missing him by mere inches.
It crashed into the wall behind him and was absorbed by the wards that groaned under protest. Whatever Dumbledore was thinking was rooted deep enough that he was not aiming to hurt him, but to kill him.
He pushed himself to his feet, only to find himself needing to shield as a translucent, violet wall descended upon him. This spell was not familiar, and his shield collapsed under the effort to protect him. It did so but not without consequence. The force of the magical collision propelled him through the air, leaving him breathless as he thumped against the floor with a dull thud.
He cursed under his breath and his anger rose. His shields had never failed him before, though he had never faced a wizard like Dumbledore. He was old but his power was certainly something to behold. However, he would not remain idle, he could not fall, not here.
" One day, you may come across a wizard more powerful than yourself. If you can be faster than him, and accurate, then you can be victorious."
The words of his former mentor echoed in his mind, and he shook his head. Had Tom predicted that this could happen? It mattered not. The advice of the man was something that he had always been able to rely on, and this was no different. With Dumbledore seemingly beyond placation, he had no other choice and his magic began to respond to his unconscious decision. It pulsed throughout him, his years of training under the tutelage of Tom and the effects of his many rituals reinvigorated him, readying him for the now unavoidable fight.
Nimbly, he jumped to his feet and responded in kind with a trio of spells of his own that left his wand fluidly and with precision.
They were absorbed by a powerful, golden shield but Harry did not relent. Despite how powerful he was, Dumbledore was old and would not be able to keep up the same pace as him. The longer the fight went on, the more in his favour it would be.
With that in mind, he began peppering the headmaster with fast and frequent spell work, keeping him on the defensive. It was not powerful, but it did not need to be. It served to keep him occupied and gave him the reprieve he needed to find his own rhythm. With any luck, such an onslaught would also work to tire the man whilst he pondered just how he could win. Losing was not an option.
"Why is it you hold back, Tom?" Dumbledore called from behind his shield. "Do you hope that you can appear innocent enough that I begin to doubt my knowledge. You will not succeed. You have taken Harry, but your journey ends here!"
Before Harry could offer protest, the headmaster released a loud grunt, banishing his shield with a wave of his wand and ripping up a significant portion of the floor with a follow up.
He banished it towards Harry who stilled it. With a wave of his own wand, he tore it into smaller chunks and transfigured them into a dozen spears that he sent back in reply.
They were met with another shield from the headmaster, this one white, and his projectiles crumbles to dust as they attempted to pass through.
Unwilling to allow the man a breath of pause, Harry sent forth two bludgeoning curses and followed up with a spell that would render any man unable to continue to fight if it were to land. It would all but cave in the ribcage and would be fatal if treatment was not administered in a timely manner. The lungs would be punctured, and the victim would be unable to draw breath without experiencing excruciating pain.
Though he was furious with him, he did not want Dumbledore dead. He simply wanted the man to stop this madness.
With a surprising show of quickness, the he sidestepped his effort, his mouth forming into a hard line as he acknowledged it with a nod.
"That is more like the Tom I know," he called, banishing the Mirror of Erised, attempting to crush him against the wall beneath it.
When Harry avoided the blow, he followed up with a barrage of spells that he narrowly escaped, though the devastation they wrought throughout the room gave the appearance of a bomb having been detonated.
Ever the transfiguration practitioner, the headmaster reverted to the art, his wand twirling as he warped the debris around them creating crude weapons of stone, a pair of lions and even a large bear.
Harry was excellent at transfiguration, perhaps would one day be as good as the man before him, but that day was not this one. Dumbledore stood head and shoulders above him still, and a contest between the two would only result in one ending.
No, he could not be lured in to such a fight. His only opportunity for victory would be to delve into the magic that the headmaster had failed to, the magic that he had learnt under the tutelage of Tom. He was not loath to use it for moral reasons but because it would only cement the belief that Dumbledore already held.
With no other option, he shook his head as the creatures barrelled towards him and the mixture of swords, spears and axes were also sent his way.
With a roar of fury, he brought his wand across his body with slash, the burst of energy pulsing from his actions crumbling the stone constructs to rubble and sending Dumbledore sprawling across the ground, his hastily erected shield failing to protect him.
Seizing the advantage, he hissed under his breath as he twirled his wand in an intricate pattern. Half a dozen shadowy serpents rose from the ground and slithered towards the downed man, their maws agape and black flames licking around them. They left a scorched trail in their wake, the stone melting from the heat they exuded.
A look of concern came over the older man as he hurried to his feet, brandishing his wand as though it were fencing sabre, and none too soon. As he took his stance, the first of the snakes lunged and an ear-splitting screech rent the air, a blinding, white light courtesy of the headmaster meeting the serpent, the collision between the light and dark magic causing both to dissipate with explosive results.
Dumbledore wore a look of shock, though he could not afford to allow his concentration to waver as the remaining five mounted their own attack. This time, a white dome formed around the man, and the smell of burning filled the room as the serpents threw themselves at the shield, the magic crackling under the fresh assault.
Harry, however, not content to remain idle, focused the power he felt thrumming throughout him. It was like nothing he had ever felt. It was intoxicating and equally demanding. It felt so fresh, yet so rotten also, the darkness he was wielding somewhat marring what he stood for. Though he wielded it, he would not submit to its allure. He would not lose himself to it the way Tom had.
With a snap of his wrist, a dark tendril emerged from the tip of his wand and careened towards the shield. It splashed against it as the last of his snakes fell victim to the magic. His tendril did not.
It began to spread across the surface, the parasitic conjuration weaving throughout it like blackened veins, staining the light as it began to succumb to the shadow.
The spell Dumbledore was using would be taxing at best, under the strain he was undoubtedly subject to, it was only a matter of time before he gave out. Not even he could maintain it for a prolonged period.
Much to his surprise, that was exactly what the old man did, and he did so stubbornly. His shield pulsed with the effort of trying to fend off his own magic and they found themselves locked in a battle of wills with none willing to concede an inch.
Harry gritted his teeth, doubling down on his efforts, so much so that forks of green lighting began striking around him and igniting small fires throughout the room. With a final grunt, Dumbledore's shield gave way and he was once more sent sprawling, though he did not remain on the floor.
He rolled to his feat and unleashed a string of spells and Harry reacted in kind, summoning a bronze shield that attached to his forearm.
The headmaster's efforts struck true, sending him back a foot or so with each spell that crashed into it, a gong-like sound ringing loudly from the force. The final one, he pushed away, jarring his arm uncomfortably and he swept his wand across the breadth of the room, the small contained fires merging into a roaring inferno that circled around the two.
It was hotter than he had expected, and he felt the beads of sweat running down his back from the heat behind him.
Dumbledore faired no better, a sheen of perspiration visible on his brow and his eyes wide in awe at the flames Harry had created.
Almost immediately, the heat became unbearable and he unleashed a torrent of water from his wand, creating a cooling vortex around himself before turning his attention back to the teen who was moving his own wand in intricate patterns.
His stomach sank as the flames began climbing the walls, coalescing into a vortex of their own on the ceiling above and he prepared himself. However, instead of collapsing down on him as he expected, it began to drip, slowly at first until several rivulets fell at once and it was quickly as though it was raining fire from above him.
His own barrier held, but it began to boil, and the weight of the additional magic began to take an unbearable toll on him. That coupled with the quickly rising heat had him gasping for breath and maintaining his concentration was all he could do to avoid being immolated.
So focused on doing so, he neglected to see Harry banish the bronze shield that had been attached to his arm, and his first indication that something was amiss was when it collided with him, knocking the wind from his lungs.
He panted heavily on the floor, certain that now he no longer held his wand, the forces above would collapse on top of him. That, much to his relief and confusion, did not come to pass. Instead, a loud hissing filled the room as steam billowed around him like a fog had descended. Desperately, he crawled to where he thought his wand would be, unwilling to allow himself to be defeated, but as it became visible and he reached out a hand to grasp it, his wrist was crushed beneath a foot.
He cried out in pain as he felt the bones break and looked up to stare into the emerald eyes of his adversary, eyes that devoid of the satisfaction he expected to see. They were almost filled with sadness and a hint of disappointment.
Harry shook his head as he picked up Dumbledore's wand, only to ensure the old man could not attempt to attack him again. He frowned as a cold spike of magic ran through him, causing him to shudder.
He, however, ignored it and placed the wand in his pocket before turning his attention to the downed man.
"I don't know if I respect you more than I did or if I think you're a completely crazy old bastard," he croaked, the fight between the two having pushed him further than he could have ever imagined.
He was exhausted, just as much as Dumbledore and took no pleasure from how well he had fought, despite the fact he had somehow bested the headmaster.
Looking upon him, he understood. Dumbledore was old and could no longer hope to keep up with the likes of him and Voldemort anymore, not that he hadn't tried his damnedest to do so. Harry was impressed, had always been impressed by the revered wizard in truth, but he was not the man he once was. As he looked down on him, all he saw was that very old man, one that had no business putting himself in confrontations like this.
"You have finally beaten me, Tom. You always said you would," he added, coughing from the effort to speak.
Harry released a deep sigh as he crouched next to him.
"Where are you hurt, you idiot?"
Dumbledore frowned at him questioningly.
"Why not kill me and be done with it? I do not believe there are anymore words to be had between us."
"Bloody hell, Professor, I'm not him."
Dumbledore shook his head in denial.
"There is no longer any reason to lie, Tom. I remember you well, the way you fight, your mannerisms. YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME!"
Harry huffed irritably.
"I don't know what you are thinking, but you are mistaken…"
"NO! I know what you have done, the abominations that you have created. I know that one of them was put into Harry and you are now what controls him. Is he alive? Is he still in there?" he asked, almost pleading.
"You know about the Horcruxes?" Harry returned, surprised he had finally come to that conclusion.
"I do. It has taken many years of work, but I know."
Harry laughed, relieved but also angry at Dumbledore for keeping it to himself resulting in what just happened.
"And you think the one that was in me somehow took control of my body?"
"Yes, it had to. There was not a hope that you could fight such a thing off."
Harry nodded.
"It is gone, Professor. It has been gone since the night of the third task," he sighed. "I suppose we both have some explaining to do, me more than you. Let me get you healed, and I will tell you what I can."
Dumbledore eyed him warily as he pointed his wand at his ribs and hissed gently, eliciting a groan of pain from the man as the pain was alleviated. He did the same to the wrist he held so tenderly against himself.
"Better?"
Dumbledore nodded and struggled to sit. Taking pity on the man, Harry assisted him.
"I'm not him, Professor. Maybe I could have been, but I'm not. Are you able to travel? I think there is something you should see."
"Do I have a choice? I am, unarmed, after all."
"I will return your wand to you, but only when I know you will not try to attack me."
Dumbledore nodded.
"If it helps put an end to this unpleasantness, then I submit myself to you," he replied with a slight bow.
Slowly but surely, the two of them navigated their way out from the rooms below the trapdoor and onto the grounds of the castle. It was a crisp night and Dumbledore shuddered at the cold.
"Don't worry, Professor, you will be warmer soon enough."
The headmaster offered him a questioning look but gave no comment and Harry removed his portkey as they exited the grounds. He took the man by the wrist and the two of them were whisked away from the Autumn night of Scotland.
Dumbledore took a deep breath and nodded approvingly when they found solid ground beneath their feet once more.
"It is much warmer," he said, "but where are we?"
"This is my home," Harry answered as he began leading the man towards the copse of trees a short distance away. "Even if you manage to work out what country we are in, you will not be able to find it again without me."
"That, I have no doubt of. I can feel the magic here. You have done a splendid job on the wards."
Harry nodded.
"You mentioned Horcruxes. What do you know about them?"
Dumbledore frowned; his gaze still wary though he deflated only a moment later.
"I know what they are and that there are several of them."
"There are seven," Harry confirmed.
Dumbledore paused, his head shaking in disbelief.
"He truly took a path no other had."
"He did, but I like to think he has redeemed himself in some ways. Tom, I mean," he clarified as they entered the grove, the familiar smell of apples becoming prominent.
Seeing the look of confusion that adorned the headmaster's features, he gestured towards the monument he had created. Dumbledore could only stare dumbly between him and the tombstone, lost for words.
"I was seven when he first spoke to me," Harry began sombrely. "It was the same day I accidentally apparated. Vernon was furious and he let his displeasure be known."
He shook is head of the thoughts he had left behind so many years ago.
"Had I known at the time that such a thing was possible, I would have likely tried to end my own life. There was nothing to live for, each day more miserable than the last. I was starved, beaten and already close to death, but then Tom spoke to me. He told me what I was and helped me."
"He spoke to you?"
"He did. I had begged for someone to rescue me from that hell, for someone to care about me and then he came along. From then on, he taught me, told me about the magical world and what would one day be possible. He pulled me through those last years there and even made it bearable."
"But, why? It was never in his nature to be so helpful."
"No, it wasn't, and he told me that himself," Harry explained. "He saw a lot of himself in me; both orphans, raised by people who despised us and both clueless about what we were. It wasn't until the end of my second year that I realised who he was. Honestly, it wasn't something that I had paid much attention to. He had been my hero, the one that had been there for me and the one that I could always rely on."
"I do not understand," Dumbledore sighed.
"Neither do I, Professor," Harry concurred. "Tom believed that being away from such a fractured soul and paired with a whole one had an effect on him. It gave him the ability to think clearly without the stain of all the things he had done to himself. He wasn't perfect. He still had the same ambition and ruthlessness, but he was not marred by the tarnished soul. I don't suppose it is something any of us can understand."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment as he took in the words that Harry had evidently carved himself.
"And he is no longer with you?"
Harry shook his head.
"When I was hit with the killing curse for the second time, we were taken to a place, a sort of crossover between this life and the next. I know it is hard to believe, but we were there, and we spoke. If he chose to, he could have sent me on my way, but he didn't and refused when I suggested he should be the one that came back. There was good in him, Professor. He was spoiled by a miserable upbringing and his own actions."
"Something I fear I had a hand in."
Harry nodded.
"I won't absolve you of the guilt for your part in how both our lives were, but the blame lies with him, and now it is up to me to put an end to Voldemort. Perhaps then, Tom will get that peace," he finished, nodding towards the words he had fashioned.
"You have quite the task ahead of you, my boy. If there are truly seven of them out there, it will not be easy."
Harry chuckled.
"I haven't been idle, Professor. There are only two remaining; the one inside him and the one in his snake."
Dumbledore turned sharply towards him, though his own eyes remained on Tom's memorial.
"Are you certain of this?"
"I am. The diary in the chamber was one, there was another in the school, a diadem that belonged to Ravenclaw. Regulus Black discovered his secret and managed to get one, though it cost him his life. Kreacher gave that to me. A locket that was once Slytherin's that his mother had sold when she was pregnant and the Gaunt Family ring."
Dumbledore was flabbergasted, his head shaking as he stared at him in awe.
"That is only four, Harry," he pointed out.
"The last was the most difficult to get," he sighed. "It was within the Lestrange vault at Gringotts."
"And how did you get that? Surely the goblins would have noticed a break in."
"That's why I broke Bellatrix out of prison and had her get it for me," he revealed. "Tom had taught me all I needed to know to get her to cooperate, and she did. When she was done, Bill Weasley tried to intercept her, and I had to ensure that he could not reveal what he had seen."
"But he is alive?"
"Yes, I wouldn't have killed him unless necessary. He won't remember the event, and neither will Bellatrix. It took a lot of work, but both will remain ignorant of what happened."
"That was a very risky and dangerous move, Harry," Dumbledore chided. "So many things could have gone wrong."
"It's not like I had much of a choice," Harry defended. "I thought about it and realised it was easier to get to Bellatrix than it would be to get in the vault myself. What would you have done?"
Dumbledore frowned thoughtfully.
"I do not know. It is not a position I would envy."
"I did what I had to."
"Indeed, and I am relieved that you were successful and even more so that I was incorrect. You have my deepest apologies, Harry. All the evidence I had pointed towards you being him."
Harry shrugged in response.
"In many ways, I am," he declared. "He raised me and taught me. Don't make the mistake in thinking I am something I'm not. I am not like you and never will be. You will always disagree with my methods and I will always look at you for your own failings. I will always be much more like him than you will like, but I will not become what he did."
"No, you will not," Dumbledore agreed. "With what you have already done, I can see that."
Harry released a deep breath. Were he not forced to, he would not have shared what he had with the headmaster.
"We are alike, me and Tom. I grew to love and respect him for what he did for me and that won't ever change. It is for him and for myself that I will kill Voldemort, but I will do so on my own terms. It is the differences that sets us apart, and it will be because of them that I will win. I know him, Professor, better than anyone else and I will not be defeated by him."
"I do not doubt you, Harry," Dumbledore offered sincerely. "Might I ask, what differences are you referring to?"
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as his mind wandered back to what he had seen in the mirror.
"Voldemort wishes to avoid death, merely to survive. I want to live, Professor. I want a life without him, where I can find some happiness."
Dumbledore's breath hitched in his chest.
"You know of it? When did you become aware?"
"Aware of what?"
"The prophecy, Harry."
Harry frowned and he snorted.
"Tom told me about it but said he didn't know it all."
"And you have not heard it?"
Harry shook his head.
"I know that it is in the Department of Mysteries, but I haven't been yet."
Dumbledore chuckled in mirth, his eyes twinkling merrily as he stared at the teen before him.
"You continue to astound me, Harry," he offered warmly. "The prophecy speaks of just what you have. ' Neither can live while the other survives.' That is the final line of it."
"Prophecy or not, it is the truth. I have something to fight for and he does not."
"And I will give you any support you need, Harry. I give you my word, but perhaps a little more openness is required between us. We share a common enemy, after all," he suggested.
Harry nodded his agreement.
"It can only benefit us both, but you have to be as open as I have been, Professor. I will not be left in the dark when you have information that could be useful."
"Of course," the older man complied, offering his hand.
Harry took the proffered limb and shook it.
"Oh, here," he said, retrieving the man's wand and holding it out to him.
Dumbledore took it and released a laboured sigh.
"I fear that it is no longer my wand, Harry. You defeated me and have won its allegiance."
Harry shook his head.
"No, it is your wand, Professor."
"No, it is not," the headmaster denied. "It is a rather special wand and carrying it comes with quite the responsibility. Tell me, have you heard the tale of the three brothers?"
"It doesn't sound familiar."
"Then I will tell you and will one day be able to rest easy knowing that it is in your most capable hands."
Harry groaned as the man grinned at him and he expected that he would not like where this conversation was going.