Elemental Alchemy

Chapter Fourteen

Unknown Time - Unknown Place

The desert sun scorched overhead. Robert, having forgotten his sunglasses, shielded his eyes against the punishing glare. He heard laughter. Familiar, loving, wonderful laughter resonating from above.

"Hey! I can't see you!" He laughed. "Where are you?"

"Up here, Robert! I'm up here!" Her voice was teasing, taunting, and tantalizing - beautiful, with a hint of an Italian accent. "Climb up, you old man, and catch me before I make it to the top without you!"

Robert growled affectionately. "Old man? We'll see who's an old man!" He pumped his arms at his side and took the steep stone steps two at a time. The carved sandstone was gravelly and a bit slippery under his feet. "Whoa!" His feet gave way slightly halfway up the Pyramid, and he had to wave his arms for balance and struggle to keep from falling back down the Pyramid's face.

Another woman, this one's voice tinged with a French accent, also yelled down at Robert. "Up here, Robert! I'm up here! Climb up, you old man, and catch me before I make it to the top without you!"

Robert's feet felt heavier, his arms like lead weights at his side. "Old man?" He panted. "We'll see... who's... an old man!" He shuffled his feet up the steps, one at a time now. With each step he felt like his weight was increasing by a factor of ten, or that gravity was tugging him earthward harder and harder. "Whoa!"

He slipped again. Now he was three-quarters up the Pyramid's face. He fell a few steps, but managed to grip the edge of a step with his hands - but he knew he couldn't hold on for long. One finger at a time, his grip loosened, as if someone was prying his fingers away from the sandstone.

There was laughter yet again. This time, however, there was no mirth to it. It was hollow, metallic, and sinister - and this time, it was male. Someone else was laughing this time. "Up here, Robert!" the voice said, mockingly. "I'm up here! Climb up, you old man, and catch me before I..."

"Before you what?" Robert yelled, horrified.

"Before I turn my wand on these women and kill them!"

Robert's hand slipped again. "Wait, wait," he cried. "Kill Vittoria? Sophie! No! Stop, please, stop!" His hands and feet failed him as he scrambled to reach the top of the Pyramid. With each step he managed to climb up, ten more steps appeared at the Pyramid's apex.

More laughter. Lower. More sinister. More menacing. Now, the laughter was filled with pure loathing. The words were taunting. "Up here, Robert! Up here! Climb up before I...."

"No, no, no, stop! Don't do it! Please!" Robert cried.

There was a third woman, with a British, slightly cockney accent. "Up 'ere, Robert! I'm up 'ere! Climb up, you old man, and catch me before I die without you!" Tonks!!! No, please don't kill Tonks!

The sinister laughter continued. "See, you're too late, Langdon! Too late to save the women you care most about! And guess what, Langdon - Tonks will die along with them!"

Robert still could not see the top of the Pyramid. The sun was too bright. There was too much glare. He couldn't make it up the steps in time to save Vittoria, Sophie - and Tonks. Especially Tonks. But he had to... he... had... to...

"Avada Kedavra!" A blinding flash of green violently overtook and replaced the sun's luminosity. Robert knew instantly that Vittoria, Sophie - and Tonks - were dead.

Or were they?

Robert's rational mind took over. Even in his near-unconscious state, Robert was able to recognize his recurring Pyramid nightmare - the same nightmare he'd had for a little over a year. Except, this time, it was different - violently and morbidly different. Regardless, Robert's unconscious mind knew, and was relieved, that he was only dreaming.

His mind regained the rest of its function slowly, incrementally, like a light on a dimmer switch. The "on" button was engaged, but the slider was at the very bottom, providing only a very dim light. As the dimmer was brought up, Robert's first physical sensation was a sharp, twangy pain in his right hand. As he instinctively balled up his fist, he could feel a long, thin tube-like object move within the vein on his hand. He also felt something sticky, like tape, pulling painfully on the hairs on the back of his hand as his skin moved underneath it.

What in the hell is this thing on my hand?

As the lights came on further, Robert's auditory function began to return. The first thing he heard was a muffled "beep...beep...beep...beep..." He had heard that sound before in much the same circumstance - waking up in a Roman hospital after falling hundreds of feet from a helicopter into the frigid Tiber River.

More light. "Vittoria? Where...am... I?" He tried to speak, but the words came out in a muffled jumble of consonants and a long 'aaaaah.' Robert's teeth felt incredibly dry and parched, and his tongue felt like it was filling up his entire mouth.

God, I'm thirsty.

He tried to move, but his body would not cooperate. He twisted his torso slightly, but was deterred by a painful pinch around his pectoral area where an electrode patch from an EKG monitor pulled at Robert's chest hair.

Ouch, that hurts. Come to think of it, everything hurts.

Robert could hear voices. He was unable to decide if those voices were familiar or not. Some were younger, some older. Some male, some female. However, they were all distinctly British.

Robert definitely was nowhere near home -- nowhere near Boston. Where am I and how the hell did I end up in a British hospital? Why aren't I in Boston?

As Robert jogged further into wakefulness, he could distinguish more voices. Some were muttering concern, some were shouting orders. Doctors, maybe. Nurses? He heard some names. Harry... Kingsley... Remus. Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks.

The voices pounded and ricocheted around Robert's head painfully. He tried raising his hands to cover his ears, but, again, his body wouldn't do what his conscious brain was telling it to do.

Why can't I move?

Robert tried opening his eyes. He could move them, but the eyelids were sticky. Robert wondered how long he had been out if his eyes were full of crust.

"He's coming around," a female voice said. "Quick, Harry, go and get the doctor!" He heard something plastic crash to the floor as the woman obviously rose quickly from her seat and knocked into the bedside table.

"Robert? Robert? Can you hear me? Say something, love!" Robert felt the side of his face being tapped and stroked and tapped again.

Yes, I can hear you and you don't have to shout! Robert tried speaking again. "Where am I?"

Robert felt a warm, welcoming breath on his cheek as the woman leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You're in a Muggle hospital, Robert. You took a nasty..." she paused. Robert could feel her pull away for a moment, as if she was looking around. She bowed her head again, "spell to the chest."

I took a what to the chest? "Muggle?" He was still unable to open his eyes. Robert felt the edge of a drinking straw poke him violently about his mouth. "Ouch!"

"Ooh, sorry love," the woman apologized, and offered Robert the straw a second time, more gingerly. "It's okay, Robert, its just water. Have some. Doctor said it was okay."

Robert pursed his lips around the straw and drank heartily. It was cool, sweet, and yes, it did make him feel better. Robert smiled weakly.

"Yeah, you remember, don't you, Robert? You took a stunner to the chest." She laid a hand gently on the offended area. Robert's skin spasmed involuntarily with pain, and Robert took in a hiss of breath. She jerked her hand back. Merlin's Beard, why does it hurt so much.... Did I just say, Merlin's Beard????

"Ooh, sorry about that, too, love."

"What happened?" Robert mumbled. "Why am I here?"

Thankfully, the woman understood him. "You nearly got picked off by the..." Robert felt the air stir as she raised her head again, "Killing Curse, but it just missed you."

"Why...what's a Killing...picked off?" Robert's mouth, thirst quenched, was able to function better.

The woman sighed. "Can you open your eyes, Robert?"

"No...stuck." He replied, still trying to move his hands.

Why the hell can't I move?

Robert heard the trickle of water as the woman soaked a cloth in the basin next to Robert's bed. "I'm going to wipe your eyes, Robert, okay?" Robert nodded. A number of painfully uncomfortable dribbles of water splashed on Robert's chest. "Ooh, sorry again," the woman winced audibly. Robert heard the tinkle of water in the basin again as she wrung it out even more, and returned it toward Robert's eyes. As with the cool drink of water, the cloth on his eyes was sheer ambrosia. "Better, there?"

Robert opened his eyes a fraction, and then clutched them shut at the bright light. He opened his left eye first, then blinked, and his right eye followed suit. He was in a hospital room. He could see a television on the wall, charts hanging from a bulletin board, and the sterile, white ceiling tiles and tracks from the bed curtains. He turned to his left, and saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

She had long, dark hair. Her skin was pale, but glowing, and her eyes were deep-set, large and brown. Even though Robert still had difficulty focusing, he could recognize this woman anywhere.

"Vittoria? Vittoria Vetra?" He blinked furtively, trying to regain focus. "Is that you? What are you doing here? I just had the most horrible dream about you...."

The woman daubed Robert's eyes again with the cloth and sighed. "No, Robert, I'm not Vittoria," she said. "I'm sorry if I look like someone you know. I can change that."

"What?" Robert's hand finally did his brain's bidding. Yes, finally! He reached up and scrubbed the water out of his eyes. "But..." He looked again. Yes, it is Vittoria! What the hell is she talking about, not Vittoria....oh wait, he thought, looking again. "Oh, sorry."

"This is the way I normally look. The way I was born, Robert. I couldn't come into a Muggle hospital with bright pink hair and piercings, now could I?" The woman smiled warmly. "But judging from some of the characters I saw here today maybe I wouldn't have looked so off."

"Pink hair?" Robert scrubbed at his own hair, his head aching worse than ever now.

"Yeah, Robert, it's me, Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks! Remember me? I stayed with you all day, mate. You've been out since about 4:00 in the morning!"

"What time is it now?" Tonks? Wow, without all that crazy hair, she's beautiful.

"6:50."

"Well, that's not so long." Robert said.

"No, Robert. It is 6:50 am - but it's the next day. You've been in twilight for more than 24 hours."

"What? What the hell happened?" He sat up quickly -- too quickly, in fact, and the room around him spun mercilessly. Robert was overcome by an immediate, overwhelming vertigo. The bile rose in his throat, and he thought for sure he was going to be sick.

"I told you," Tonks laid a hand gently on Robert's shoulder, calming him, and laying him back down on the pillow. The wave of nausea and dizziness passed mercifully. "You were hit square in the chest with a stunner. Normally we'd just let you rest it out -- shake it off - have a lie-in so to speak, but..."

"But what?" Robert asked. "Why am I in a hospital?"

"We lost your pulse. We thought it killed you. I guess it gave you a... what do they call it when your heart goes all funny and doesn't beat anymore or beats really dodgy-like? The doctor said something like your heart was fibbing."

In her wild gesturing, Tonks backhanded Robert's intravenous line, causing a painful pull in his hand. Robert winced, made no sound, and merely smiled at Tonks' rapidly apparent - and increasingly endearing -- clumsiness.

Fibbing? "V-Fib? Ventricular fibrillation? Tonks nodded adamantly and pointed at her nose. That's it, I got it on the nose. Yes, Robert thought, Paolo said that before the night was through I would have a coronary. And there, I sort of had one. No wonder my chest feels like its on fire!

"That's it!" Tonks said. "Harry took one look at you, and knowing what he knows about Muggles, I mean he lives with the lot and all, he said he thought you had a heart attack. He said the best place for you would be at Casualty in a Muggle hospital. I'm not sure that I agreed with that, but we took you regardless. Harry said you'd have...er... medical records or a history or something like that ... and that you'd probably prefer Muggle medical treatment than potions or anything they'd conjure up at St. Mungo's. Not to mention, you've got a couple of broken ribs, there."

"Okay, so where am I?" Tonks carefully offered him another sip of water, which he accepted heartily. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She set the cup back on the bedside table. Robert eyed it carefully to ensure she wouldn't spill. "You're at Murrayfield Hospital in Edinburgh." Tonks smiled. "Hope we did you well by that one."

Robert looked around briefly. It looked like any other hospital in any other country. "I'm sure it's fine." Robert fell silent. The memories from the field came flooding back into Robert's brain. "Tonks?"

"Yes, Robert?"

He reached up slowly and took Tonks' hand. "I do remember you. Frankly, you look a lot better now than with all that pink hair...."

"I'm a metamorphmagus," she paused as Robert looked wholly perplexed. "I can change my appearance at will. If you like the way I look now - my natural state -- I'll stay this way."

"Thank you." Robert sighed, too weary for anymore magical surprises. "What about Harry? I don't remember everything that happened." Robert dug the heel of his hand into his forehead, trying to force the memory back into focus. "Were we in some kind of fight or something?" Robert looked down. "How did I get this burn mark here?" He pointed to the left side of his chest.

"Again, Robert, that's where the stunning charm walloped you a good one." Tonks explained. "And yes, we were had quite a spot of bother the other night at that." She squeezed his hand. "But you were very brave, and a very good fighter, Robert. We really needed a bloke like you, and you came through top notch."

The memories came back even more. "There were murders...and a werewolf...and...a dolphin in the sky?"

"Shush!" Tonks laid a hand over Robert's mouth. "Careful, we're around too many Muggles!"

"Last thing I remember was....Oh, God." The recollection hit Robert like an anti-matter explosion. "Paolo. Paolo's dead, isn't he? Those things...those," he whispered, "dementors, and Voldemort...they killed him. And Voldemort tried something - I don't remember what - with me - in my head -- and it was painful as all hell!"

Tonks nodded. Robert searched his memory again and gasped. "But Blaise? What about Blaise, is he okay? Please tell me he's okay, Tonks! What about Snape? Remus? Harry, the others?"

"Snape, Remus and Harry are fine, Robert." Tonks smiled weakly. She reached out and gently moved an errant lock of hair out of Robert's eyes. She placed her hand gently atop Robert's.

She didn't mention Blaise. "What happened?"

"More Aurors came -- to back us up." Tonks began, still whispering. "Dumbledore was there too. You should have seen it, Robert. I've never seen anything like it. Dumbledore was ruddy amazing. He and Harry together. No wonder the proph...I mean, no wonder Dumbledore's so fond of Harry. The two of them...they fought off the rest of the Death Eaters. Then, they set their sights dead straight on to You-Know-Who."

"And what happened?" Robert tried to turn on his side to listen better, but the pain in his chest told him not to.

"I didn't see it. The spells coming from Harry's and Dumbledore's wands were too bright. No one saw anything other than flashes of red, blue, green. All we know is that Harry and Dumbledore walked right into the fray - took You-Know-Who straight on. We heard Harry scream a few times - couldn't tell if it was pain, panic, or just battle screams. Heard You-Know-Who yell some curses, too, but we couldn't tell what. For all we know, they went in there to chat it up a bit, but I doubt it. You know how it is -- three went in, two came out - Harry and Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked okay. Harry looked a little well...nutters, a bit dodgy in the head, I guess is the way to spit it. We've no idea what happened to You-Know-Who."

"Did you ask ..."

"Yeah, we did. Harry won't talk about it. Not so much as a bloody word since, in fact. Dumbledore's not talking either." She smiled. "So, Robert, you didn't miss much."

Robert decided to broach the subject again. Although, judging from Tonks' demeanor before, he did not think the news would be good. "And Blaise?" He braced himself.

Tonks stood up and began straightening Robert's bedclothes. "Robert. You're still overmuch too weak. Maybe this should wait..."

"Just by that reaction, I know it's not good, Tonks. Please." He squeezed her hand. "Out with it."

She slumped back in the chair. "Right before you went all wonky on us from the stunner, You-Know-Who invoked the Killing Curse and aimed it right at you."

"I guess I remember that. I remember seeing the green, if that's what that was." Robert said.

"It got all mixed up with the stunning charm from that Death Eater. It would have hit you, and would have probably killed you, but..." Tonks lowered her head.

"But what?" Robert still did not like where this was going.

"Blaise." Tears began forming in Tonks' brown eyes. "He used a wand. I have no idea how he got one. Maybe he summoned the one you used after you dropped it, maybe he...I have no idea, but somehow he got a wand." Tonks sobbed again. "I thought it was impossible, but he -- he separated the spells. I don't know how he did it or how he knew how to do it but, being just a student and all...I've never seen anyone except You-Know-Who do it...but he actually drew the Killing Curse - an unblockable curse -- away from you and..." Her tears became more pronounced and she began sobbing.

"He took the curse himself?" Robert asked, shuddering with dread.

Tonks nodded her head. "Yes. Blaise took the curse himself. Hit him smack in the face, it did." She sniffed.

Harry entered the room. "Yes, Mr. Langdon. Voldemort's curse killed Blaise Zabini instantly."

Robert looked up at Harry, his eyes widening in horror. "Oh my God. Blaise." The tears flowed. "First Paolo, now Blaise. Oh my God!" For the second time in just over 24 hours, Robert cried. Tonks, just as before, held him fast and comforted him. Her touch felt warm, loving, and it did dispel some of Robert's grief and terror - for the moment.

"Why the hell did he do that? Why in God's name...?"

Robert felt a sudden urge to pull away from Tonks. His grief and sadness instantly morphed into something hot and deadly. He felt - a fury now course through his body. "Dammit!!" Robert yelled as loud as his weakened voice would allow him. "God Dammit! What the hell did we go in there for? What the hell did we all put our lives on the line for? He committed suicide? What use was anything we did?"

"Don't talk that way, now, Robert." Tonks patted Robert's hand nervously, and touched his face. "It wasn't all for naught."

"Like hell it wasn't! Two murders. One dementor's kiss...so much death and destruction and fear - Blaise and Paolo are dead - for what?"

Silence. Tonks looked at Harry pleadingly, and then at Robert. Harry's face set in a jumbled up expression of pride, worry, and resolve. His voice was a harsh whisper. "For everything," he said, coolly. "For my mum and dad. For Sirius. For Ron and Hermione's safety, for Cedric Diggory! This war, Robert. It's over. Voldemort's gone. He's finished - for good this time."

Without another word, Harry Potter turned on his heels and burst out of the room.

Chapter Fifteen

5:00 pm - 5th September -- Murrayfield Hospital - Edinburgh

Robert Langdon had never felt more stir-crazy in his entire life.

Thankfully, he had Tonks at his side nearly the entire five days he spent in hospital. Robert developed a deep appreciation for her eagerness and helpfulness. Tonks was exceptionally good at running ramshod over cranky nurses, barking orders, and generally advocating for Robert any chance she got.

By the end of his hospital stay, however, Robert had learned - the hard way - not to ask Tonks for favors involving physical tasks, such as picking up dropped objects (Tonks managed to whack her head on the bed rail twice while retrieving a fallen remote control), or helping Robert with food and drink (she had spilled water on Robert's bed sheets three times - hot tea once.) For a woman so agile and lithe in the heat of battle, Robert thought, Nymphadora Tonks is otherwise endearingly klutzy.

Despite his doctor's over-zealousness - "While there's seemingly nothing wrong with your heart, Mr. Langdon, we can't let you go just yet until we find out what exactly made it stop!" - Robert kept his patience in check. However, he and Tonks did make it a point to pester his doctor and nurse at least eight times a day, telling them he felt just fine, pointing at the normal EKG monitor, and asking innocently when he would be released.

Remus and Severus first visited Robert on the third day of his hospital stay. Thankfully, they both had the smarts to dress and act like Muggles. Robert nearly failed to recognize Severus, his customary stringy black hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and a stylish black sweater and black wool pants had replaced his billowy robes.

"I see you are doing well, Langdon," Snape said, peering down his hooked nose.

"Yes, thank you," Robert said, "I appreciate your coming to see me, Severus."

"Think nothing of it, Langdon. Just because I am here in this - this - you call this a hospital? It does not mean I like you, Langdon. I still think you are an insufferable American Muggle swot." The corner of Snape's mouth curled in a subtle, but involuntary smile. "However, I am actually here on other business - I am here for Ms. Tonks."

"Me? Ouch!" Tonks stood too quickly from her chair and knocked her knee into the bedrail. Clumsy, very clumsy, but cute.

"Yes," Snape rolled his eyes. "You are to return to Hogwarts with me to fill out an onslaught of Ministry paperwork. The Minister of Magic also wishes to interview you personally regarding this..." Snape's nose curled in disgust, "incident."

"Go ahead, Tonks. Remus and I will watch some soccer...er, football while you're gone." Robert lifted the remote and clicked on the television. The television lit alive, and Robert expertly clicked channels until discovering a raucous football game. Satisfied, he looked at Tonks and smiled. "Go on."

Tonks leaned over and gave Robert an innocent and sweet kiss on the cheek. She wagged a finger at Remus. "Don't do anything to make his heart go all wonky again, Remus."

"Me?" Remus protested, grinning, "you're the one who just kissed him!"

Tonks glanced sideways at Robert and gave a coy wink as she closed the curtain around Robert's bed. Sufficiently hidden from view of the hallway, Severus and Tonks Disapparated with a loud "crack."

"You know, I'll never get used to that." Robert chuckled.

Remus scratched his head. "I've been a wizard all my life and I'm still not used to it."

Robert and Remus stared blankly at the television. Robert shook his head. "I need something to get my brain working again - this isn't doing it," Robert said to Remus, clicking off the television. "How about we play some chess?"

"That sounds wonderful!" Remus beamed.

"There's a chess set in the side table there. I asked the nurse to bring it to me last night from the games room." Robert pointed.

Remus dug out the chess set, and set it out on the bed table. Remus set up the white pieces, and Robert black.

"Okay, Remus. You're white. You go first."

Remus stared hard at the chessboard. "King's Pawn to D4," he said, without lifting a hand. The piece did not move. "Pawn to D4," Remus repeated. He looked up at Robert in confusion. "Why didn't it move?"

"What do you mean? You're supposed to pick it up and move it yourself." Remus was thoroughly confused. "What, do the chess pieces move by themselves where you come from?" Robert chuckled.

Remus looked abashed. He smacked himself on the forehead and nodded resignedly. "Right. Muggle chess. I forgot." He picked up the offending pawn and placed it with a flourish on the D4 square.

After a few moves, Robert moved his Knight to overtake one of Remus' Pawns. Robert placed his chess piece in the same square, swiftly removed the Pawn, and set it to the side of the chessboard.

"Now that's boring." Remus said.

"What is?"

"Just taking the piece off the board like that. In my kind of chess game your Knight would have pounded the pulp out of my Pawn!"

"Yeah, this is pretty boring in comparison, isn't it?" Robert mused. He looked up at Remus. "How's Harry?"

"Same as before." Remus said.

"I don't suppose you can tell me what happened out there?"

"I'm afraid I cannot. I know Tonks told you that neither Harry nor Dumbledore have been inclined to tell anyone what really happened. I'm in the same spot as Tonks ...all I saw were bright lights and spells flying."

Robert and Remus finished their game in silence, with Remus eventually taking Robert's King in a well thought-out checkmate. Robert was too distracted to care.

Just then, Harry arrived, carrying a small package. "Hello, Mr. Langdon. How are you feeling today?" Harry asked cordially.

"Much better, and I'm ready to get the hell out of here, thank you."

"I'm really glad you're okay. You really had me worried for a while there." Harry smiled weakly. "I'm really sorry about Blaise, Mr. Langdon."

"Please, Harry, call me Robert." He sighed. "And thank you. The news was really hard to hear, but I know you did your best to save him. Sounds like you saved all of us."

Harry did not respond. His face showed no sign of emotion or reaction.

Robert thought of delving further into the past few days' events, but thought better of it. Harry was truly a strange young man, yet he was brave, noble, and admirable. Recalling what had happened on the train and especially having witnessed Harry's prowess on the field, Robert thought it best not to say anything to possibly provoke him.

Breaking the silence, Harry handed a small package to Robert. "Here. This is from Professor Dumbledore."

"Thanks." Robert said, accepting the package. He unwrapped it, and within the paper was a small cryptex. "Oh God, not another one - do I need to solve this now? There haven't been anymore threats, have there?" Robert sighed.

"No, no, nothing like that," Harry said. "It's a gift. Dumbledore thought it would be a...well, a memento...sort of. Here, he sent a note with it." Harry dug the note out of his jeans pocket and handed it over to Robert.

Robert unfolded the note and read.

Dear Robert:

If you should ever wish to return to Hogwarts, the contents of this cryptex, when touched, will bring you straight here - straight to this place if you feel you belong, where you are most welcome. Within this puzzle lies a small Portkey. All you need do is solve the puzzle to open it. The solution lies in your own magic.

Yours very sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Robert looked over the cryptex carefully. The carvings on the brass bands were common English letters. The green-tinged wood and patina-coated metal end caps of the small cylinder were decorated with water symbols: the Zodiac sign for Aquarius, the upside-down triangle Alchemaic symbol for water, the zig-zaggy Egyptian water Hieroglyph, the Christian shell symbol for baptism, and the Greek symbols for the god Poseidon, and for Aphrodite, the goddess born from the sea.

Robert figured out the cryptex immediately. There were seven rings. There were seven letters in the word describing Robert's own "magic," the word describing his Patronus. The solution was, "Dolphin." Robert simply locked the solution away in his memory, and resisted the urge to open the puzzle right then and there. There would be a time and a place to open it, Robert knew, and now was not that time.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"It's an invitation to return to Hogwarts, whenever I want to." Robert smiled. "Thanks, Harry, for bringing this."

"My pleasure."

7 September - 5:45 pm - Hogwarts Grounds

Robert remained in the hospital for two more days. When, on 7 September, he was finally released, or, "sprung," as Robert put it. Tonks helped him out of the hospital, and saw him safely back to Hogwarts - not before proceeding to trip headlong over the wheelchair footrests, and spilling Robert's bottled water all down the front of his newly-purchased sweatshirt.

A few hours later, Robert walked closely beside Tonks as they strode up the school grounds toward the castle from the lake. "Thanks for everything, Tonks." Robert said, blushing slightly. Robert was under doctor's orders to start walking now that he was again able. How better to start than with a tour of Hogwarts' grounds during the late daylight hours?

"I mean it," Robert continued, "I'm not sure why you stayed with me so much, Tonks. I really don't think I could have made it through that hospital stay without you. I hate those places, you know. Yes, Harry and Remus, and even Snape stopped by once in a while, but you were the only one to stay at my side constantly. Thanks for that."

"Right, it's not like I had anything else to do, eh?" Tonks put on a falsely pensive expression. "Oy, you know, I'm not sure why I stayed either. Must be something about you I like." She nudged Robert with her shoulder. Robert winced slightly as Tonks' affectionate gesture caused a painful shifting within his still broken ribcage.

Tonks, not noticing Robert's pain, continued. "Joking aside, Robert, it was my pleasure." She smiled subtly. "But, for the fifty millionth time, you're welcome for that." "Anyhow, if it wasn't for you, Robert, we'd have never been rid of those dementors, right?"

Robert smiled and half-shrugged, rubbing absent-mindedly at his offended chest. "I guess so. It was all you three, though - you and Remus and Harry. All that magic - it was you, not me - you worked through me, that's all. I'm just a plain old Muggle and that's what I'll always be."

Tonks lifted an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Somehow, Robert, I don't really think so." She smiled. "I mean, you told me some really nutters stories there in hospital. Falling from a helo, all that rot...there's got to be something in you! I mean, you did have your own Patronus! That's some advanced magic, that is! Loads of fully-qualified wizards can't even conjure a Patronus!"

"How's Harry?" Robert asked, concerned, and changing the subject. Although it had only been two days since he last saw Harry, he continued to wonder how the events of "that" evening impacted this boy - this boy for whom Robert truly began to care.

"Still not completely right in the head, I think. Gone a bit wonky. I can't put my finger on what's wrong with him, but there's something well - missing - about the boy. Something that's not there. He seems almost - lost." Tonks perked up suddenly. "But, his friends are right beside him. Hermione and Ron. They're two gems, they are. Ron's loyal to the bone, and Hermione's the cleverest witch of her age! They'll see Harry through all of this - thick and thin, those two, don't you worry."

"He still won't talk about what happened?"

"Aw, no. Don't suppose anyone will ever find out what really happened with You-Know-Who and Dumbledore and Harry there. I can't even be sure he'll tell Ron and Hermione, and he usually tells them everything!"

"I'll try talking to Albus. Maybe he'll entrust the information to a Muggle."

"Ach, I'd be careful about what secrets Dumbledore offers to whisper in your ear anymore, Robert. Remember, the last one nearly got your brains turned to porridge by You-Know-Who!"

Robert rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I do," he smiled weakly. Robert pulled his freshly-cleaned wizard's robes tighter under his chin as the early evening September wind whipped and swirled in increasing intensity.

My robes, Robert thought, fingering the edge of the soft, downy wool. My - robes - my wizard's robes. Robert had forgotten all about his precious Harris Tweed. The Harris Tweed that Paolo transfigured for him. Now, he wasn't even sure if he wanted it back, not sure if he was willing to give up the very symbol of his presence among these amazing and gifted people.

My God, it all seems a world away now - a lifetime ago. Hell, I guess even I've been transfigured!

Transfigured in more than one way.... Robert looked at Tonks with a new longing. Silly and sophomoric, he thought - I've only just met her. She'd only been a player in a small fraction of his adventure, but she had been there through the worst of the times. She was by his side constantly, dutifully, and loyally.

Robert wondered how he could possibly return to Boston - return to his normal life - leave this place, this world - without taking at least a small part of it with him. But what part to take?

The idea illuminated in his mind like a well-performed Patronus charm.

"You know, Tonks, I'm going back to Boston in two days - after the funerals, and after I make sure Vickie's going to be okay. She's a real mess, but she's a strong woman - a strong witch, I mean. She has her family here to lean on. She really doesn't need me or my constant presence to remind her of what happened. Anyhow, the Doctor gave me the okay to fly home."

Tonks lowered her head slightly. "Aw, bloody hell, just as I was getting to know you and all." She blinked. "Always works out for me that way, doesn't it. I start getting attached and then..."

Attached? Is this really what I want to hear? "Tonks, I..." Robert interrupted. "I'm sorry. I know you spent a lot of time with me at the hospital - more than I ever could have expected or asked for. Much more. I know you are a great fighter, and a brilliant witch, but with Vol..."

Tonks cleared her throat.

"Sorry, with You-Know-Who gone, you may not even have a job to go back to..."

Tonks rolled her eyes this time. "Thanks for that reminder there, Robert. Just what I needed to make me feel better."

Yes, I think it was what I wanted to hear. "No, no, that's not what I meant." Robert said, flustered. He turned and faced Tonks, grasping her gently, yet firmly by the shoulders. God, it would be so easy for me to just lean over and kiss her... "I mean, maybe you could...If you wanted to...I mean..."

"What?" Tonks' brow furrowed and her eyes widened. "If I wanted to what?" Robert sensed that she was quite flummoxed.

Robert rubbed his hands nervously up and down Tonks' arms. "Look, Tonks, I know we hardly know each other, but when you feel something, you feel something, right? And I'm getting pretty old," he laughed, then paused. "You're supposed to disagree with me there, Tonks - about me getting old."

"Oh, yeah! Oh, no, Robert, you're not old. Not old a whit." Tonks said in a false confident, mocking voice.

"Thank you. As I was saying, I'm getting damn old, and I know you're still pretty young, but opportunities like this... people...women... like you, Tonks... just don't come along very often, so..."

"You want me to go to...to Boston with you?" Tonks blinked.

Robert nodded silently.

Tonks smirked demurely and held her arms akimbo, jutting out her left hip. "That's a ruddy forward thing to ask a girl you barely know, and who's ten years younger than you, now isn't it?"

Not quite the answer I was looking for... "Well, Tonks," he said, again grasping her shoulders. "What can I say or do to convince you?" He smiled. She raised her eyes up and to the left, and held her hand to her chin in a grinning mock expression of contemplation.

As Tonks opened her mouth to answer, Robert heard a booming voice from the front door of the school. "Robert! Robert Langdon!" It was Dumbledore, followed by Argus Filch, who was carrying the first cryptex. "May I have a word, please?"

Robert sighed. "Hold that thought, Nymphadora." He placed a finger to her lips. "Tell me when I come back, okay?"

"Okay," she said. "But the answer'll likely be yes! And Robert, don't think you can go calling me by my first name if I agree to go with you. It don't give you the right."

Robert smiled and turned, his heart light and his stomach now doing little flip-flops with excitement. In all the pain and tragedy of the past few days, the prospect of spending time with Tonks was a brilliant beacon of light. He skipped, as much as the pain from his fractured ribs would allow, up the front staircase toward the entrance door. Dumbledore greeted him with a handshake and a pat on the back.

"It's good to see you up and about, and so full of energy, Robert. You had us all worried there for quite some time - especially being in that Muggle hospital - brutal their kind of medicine. Remus Lupin told me all about it - electrical heart starting paddles, tubes in your veins, long needles and the like. It gives me the shivers just thinking about it."

"Well," said Robert, eyeing the cryptex suspiciously, "It did the trick, didn't it? I'm here, and I guess I'm lucky to be alive."

Dumbledore smiled, looked past Robert, and down the staircase at Tonks. "Looks like you are lucky in more than one way, Robert. Nymphadora Tonks is one of the good ones, and she has really taken a liking to you. She is truly one of the cleverest witches I have ever met, short of Hermione Granger. Despite the fact that she is, well, let's just say - kinesthetically challenged..."

"You mean she's chronically clumsy?" Robert laughed.

"Well, I would not have put it that way, but yes." Dumbledore smiled brightly, "Nymphadora is an excellent Auror, dedicated, loyal, and trustworthy to a fault. You would do well to see that she's happy."

Robert wondered why and how Dumbledore knew Robert's intentions toward Tonks. However, by now, Robert knew not to ask, not to second guess, and not to wonder. "If she'll have me, I promise to take excellent care of her."

"You know that Harry would tell you the same, but in not-so-subtle ways. You see, Tonks is the daughter of Sirius Black's favorite cousin, Andromeda. Tonks and Sirius had a kinship like no other, and that affection passed through Sirius to his godson, Harry."

"Ah," said Robert. "The Sirius factor. Understood."

Argus Filch shifted his weight, and grunted impatiently. He was still standing beside Dumbledore, still holding the immense cryptex.

Dumbledore turned to Argus. "Ah, yes, my many apologies, Mr. Filch. Thank you for your patience - I get sidetracked so easily at my age, you know. Thank you most kindly for assisting me to carry this artifact. You may set it down now and return to your duties within the castle, if you please."

Argus mumbled something under his breath about "bloody Muggles," and "servitude," set the cryptex down, turned and walked back inside the building.

Dumbledore took out his wand, aimed it at the cryptex, and made a swish and flick movement. "Wingardium leviosa." The cryptex levitated and hovered in the air next to Dumbledore.

Neither Robert nor Dumbledore said anything for a long moment. Robert simply stared at the floating cryptex, still trying to piece together his memory, and more importantly, his understanding of the events of the night of the first of September.

"I hope I never see that thing again," Robert said.

"Actually, Robert," Dumbledore said grimly, "I've come to offer it to you, if you want it. I understand you keep quite a collection of symbolic artifacts from every corner of the globe within your home - tribal masks, fertility idols, and the like. This particular artifact carries no direct evidence of the wizarding world, and I would confidently entrust it to your safety." Dumbledore made a sweeping gesture toward the cryptex.

Robert, his fascination renewed, stepped forward, and reached out a hand to once again caress the intricate mahogany-inlaid wood, brass rings, and delicately etched pentagram. "Well, the craftsmanship is incredible, and the symbols, they're...ouch!"

Robert pulled his hand back from the cryptex, wagged it in pain, and flexed his fingers. "It bit me!" Robert stared, his brows furrowed. "More to the point - it - shocked - me," Robert said slowly. "The damn thing actually shocked me -- that can't be right! I could touch it before!" Robert looked up at Dumbledore, who merely smiled benignly. "Something must be wrong with it. Something must have changed with it..."

"Curious, that, Robert. Most curious." Dumbledore nodded absentmindedly. "Yes, Robert, the cryptex must have changed somehow. Perhaps it will, as you say, bite, anyone who has worked with it, anyone who has solved its secrets? Perhaps it simply does not like you personally and does not wish to return to Boston with you. Perhaps it does not feel that it would acclimate well to the extremes of Boston weather, or to your academic lifestyle?"

Robert, in his confusion, failed to appreciate Dumbledore's humor. He grimaced and massaged his offended fingers. Why the hell did it shock me? I'm no wizard. "Honestly, Albus, I don't want it," Robert said, his voice trembling. "I don't want anything to do with it. Too many horrible things came out of that box - too many deaths -- and I wouldn't be able to stand looking at it."

"Very well then," Dumbledore said, again brandishing his wand. "Evanesco," he said gravely, and the cryptex disappeared with a puff of green smoke.

"Good riddance." Robert sighed, his mind racing. "Albus?"

"Yes."

"What happened back there?"

Dumbledore looked behind him. "Back where? I don't see anything." There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"No, I mean back in the field. With you and Harry and Voldemort?"

"Robert, I know now that I have endangered you far beyond your tolerance at this point. I cannot..."

"But Harry," Robert interrupted. "Tonks says there's something wrong with Harry. I've even seen it myself. He's, well, different. What is it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "What does one in your position as an art historian, for example, feel when a lifetime quest is over. Robert, how did you feel when you finally found the Holy Grail in Paris?"

"Happy," Robert said, "Relieved, joyful, fulfilled..."

"And then after a day or so?"

Robert thought hard. "Empty, I guess. Finished. As...as if there was nothing else to do...at least for a while...other than just talk about it."

"Then, you have your answer, Robert."

Robert pondered the impact of that. Harry trained for six of his nearly seventeen years to defeat the Dark Lord, Voldemort. He waited all that time for the opportunity, for the chance to take up arms and achieve his destiny - to fulfill some prophecy. Now he's done it. Now what?

Robert hung his head. "I see. But there must be something else for Harry to do."

"Oh, there is." Dumbledore smiled, and laid a finger aside his nose. "There truly is. What Harry does not seem to understand at this moment, is that Voldemort is not truly gone. In spite of the celebrations, the pats on the back, the congratulations Harry may receive now, Voldemort never will truly be gone."

"What do you mean?"

"In Muggle politics, Robert, what happens when a dictator falls, or the head of a terrorist faction is killed or captured?"

"Someone steps in to take his place and the cycle begins again." At last, it dawned on Robert. Voldemort wasn't truly defeated. As long as there were Death Eaters loyal to him, unlike before when he was just weakened, he will live on. Robert knew the martyr syndrome well - and now he feared it would arise again -- with full force.

"So you see, Robert. Harry Potter's purpose in life is not extinguished, never will be. He still has the 'power the Dark Lord knows not...' and he will have it for the rest of his life."

"Power the what?" Robert asked.

"Oh, yes, I forgot. Tonks' well-placed memory charm. Well, I for one will not again expose you to danger and reiterate the prophecy to you. Harry was quite disappointed when he first found out you were not here to help us solve it. But now there's no need." Dumbledore paused, his eyebrows raised, "or is there? Perhaps the prophecy is not yet completed. Hmmmm....interesting thought."

Dumbledore seemed lost in his own mind for a moment, then snapped out of it suddenly. "Well, Robert, it has been a pleasure knowing you. I do owe you a great deal of thanks and gratitude." Robert blushed slightly. He did not feel like he deserved any thanks.

Again, Robert felt as if Dumbledore was reading his mind. "I realize you may feel that your presence here was for naught, that nothing was prevented... but look at the miraculous end result. If it wasn't for you, if you weren't here to interpret all of those symbolic clues, then Blaise Zabini's death would truly have been in vain." Dumbledore paused. "I expect you will be at the funerals tomorrow and then heading back home to Boston?"

Robert nodded his head. He was still reeling from Dumbledore's prior revelation. "Uh, yes. I will be."

"Well, then, safe journeys, Robert Langdon." Dumbledore shook his hand. "I do hope to see you again. Muggle or not, you are always welcome at Hogwarts."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for the water cryptex, and the open invitation."

"You are very welcome, Robert. And I meant what I said in the letter. If you do feel that longing to come back, simply open the puzzle, my friend, and the Portkey will transport you right into my office. You might give me quite a start should I be sleeping or daydreaming, thinking, or Merlin forbid, working, but I know, after the initial shock, I shall be most happy to see you."

Robert smiled and turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way, Robert," Dumbledore caught his attention. "I have one more token to pass on to you." He reached into his robe and pulled out a long, black wand. "This was Blaise's wand. Twelve inches. Ebony. Mermaid hair core. I'm sure he would want his 'Uncle Bobby' to have it, as a token of thanks. Victoria is in complete agreement."

Robert stared at the ebony shaft of wood. "Thank you." Robert grasped the wand's handle with his right hand. It felt natural. It felt wonderful. He didn't want to let it go. It felt as if he had Blaise, or the memory of Blaise, right with him, to keep him company. "Thank you so much, Headmaster."

"Again, Robert, you are very welcome."

Dumbledore turned to return to the castle, and then turned back yet again. "Oh, Robert. One more thing."

"Anything."

"Are you sure you do not wish to stay on as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? I hear you can conjure up quite a Patronus, Delfino! I do believe that you could teach our third years a shocking thing or two about fighting off dementors."

"I think the only thing I qualify to teach is Defense Against the Bad Art, Headmaster!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Oh well."

Again, Dumbledore made to leave, and again he turned back to Robert. "Oh, yes. I forgot. Old age, you know. Will you indulge me with one more 'one more thing' then, Robert."

"Yes?"

"Hold that wand firmly and repeat after me."

"What?"

"Just do as I say, young man. Repeat after me!"

Robert was mystified. "Okay."

"Lumos Maxima."

Robert winced in confusion, but held tight to the wand. He repeated the phrase. "Lumos Maxima."

The reaction was instant and incredible. Robert gasped, the breath nearly knocked out of him. He almost dropped the wand. The thing, the wand, it... it glowed! The very tip of the wand in Robert's hand actually glowed - an immaculate and powerfully luminous white light - a light that split the growing dusk before it.

"What the...how did I...?" Did I just do what I think I did? Robert looked up at Dumbledore, his hand and his breath trembling. Please, please tell me I didn't do what I think I just did.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, his half-moon glasses reflecting the dazzling wand light. "See, Robert. We all knew you had it in you. Defense Against the Dark Arts - just as I said!" Dumbledore smiled and turned his back to Robert. He trod quickly up the remaining steps, disappearing into the castle.

Robert stared in utter bewilderment as the light from Blaise's wand slowly, and gradually, faded.

P.S. Find -- "Robert Langdon..."

FIN