A Cord of Three Strands

A Cord of Three Strands

By Cindale

Chapter 23

"Spirit and Soul"

Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Ecclesiastes 4:12

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Dumbledore looked down at his desk, as if unable to face them. "From what I've been able to gather, I believe that Tom Riddle's soul resides inside of Harry."

"What?" Harry shouted, barely able to hear himself over the shouts of angry disbelief all around him. That couldn't be true; Harry would know if he had someone else inside him, wouldn't he? His whirling mind suddenly locked onto a memory of another time in Dumbledore's office, in his fifth year, and an odd instrument that had produced a smoky snake that had split into two while Harry had watched. He looked down at his own torso as if he could determine whether the unwanted presence was really there.

"You're wrong!" shouted Ginny, her shrill voice rising to the surface of the noise. Her hands were clenched on the arm of her chair as if she were holding herself there. Harry longed to comfort her, but he was oddly reluctant to touch her or anyone else for fear that he might contaminate them. "Harry's not ..."

"Then what does Voldemort have?" Ron interrupted, rising to his feet to be heard. "I mean, I saw him - he walks and talks - he definitely has a soul!"

"No, Ron," said Dumbledore, raising his head and gazing at Ron with tears in his eyes, "Voldemort has a spirit, but not a soul."

"But I thought they were the same thing," said Mrs. Weasley. Harry supposed he had believed that, too, but his mind was still spinning. It settled for a moment on another time in fifth year when he had felt a surge of hatred toward Dumbledore, and his stomach clenched painfully at the realization.

"They are, essentially," said Dumbledore. "In a normal person the terms can be used interchangeably. But Voldemort had performed numerous experimental spells on himself in an effort to achieve immortality. The Killing Curse that rebounded from Harry should have killed Voldemort's body and sent his spirit and soul to the afterlife. Instead, his spirit and soul were split apart. His spirit floated away, and, as I understand it, ended up in Romania. His soul went to the only host available."

"Me," whispered Harry, feeling nauseated, as if his body was suddenly rejecting the foreign soul. He clenched his hands together in his lap and willed himself not to vomit.

"How long have you known about this?" asked Mrs. Weasley, her face stained with tears.

Dumbledore blinked rapidly for a moment before answering. "I've suspected it since Harry's fifth year," he said, his eyes shifting over them nervously, apparently unwilling to settle on any of them, "but I became certain of it when I joined in his Occlumency tutoring last spring. I can occasionally sense the foreign presence in Harry's mind."

Harry wanted to ask Dumbledore why he hadn't told him, why he had kept this horrible fact from him, but his stomach was so upset that he couldn't be certain only words would come out if he opened his mouth. Besides, he didn't know why he should bother to ask; Dumbledore had kept so many things from him in the past that this deception was certainly no surprise.

"How has this affected Harry?" asked Remus in a hoarse voice, as if he were struggling to keep his control.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at Remus, obviously avoiding Harry's eyes. "There is no way to know," he said. "I suspect that if Harry had been an adult, or perhaps even a few years older, his soul would have fought against the invading soul and it would have likely caused insanity. I am assuming that since Harry's mind and body had no way to cope with a foreign, fully adult presence, that Voldemort's soul was forced to revert back to a childlike state and grow and develop alongside Harry's own. I have sensed in Harry's mind that now the two souls are so intertwined they would be almost impossible to separate."

"So you're saying we'd have to kill Harry to destroy Voldemort's soul?" said Ginny in a choked voice.

Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly as if in pain and then nodded. "If the curse Hermione found was performed at the point of Voldemort's death, it would likely cause Voldemort's soul to be forcibly removed from Harry. Not only would this be very painful, but Harry's soul would probably be dragged from his body as well, causing Harry to be left without a soul at all."

"Like the victim of a dementor's kiss," whispered Harry. He heard someone stifle a sob, but he was too busy staring at Dumbledore to see who it was.

"Wait a minute," said Malfoy, "you said 'likely' and 'probably'. How do you know for sure?"

"There's no way to know for certain," Dumbledore acknowledged. "To my knowledge, nothing like this has ever happened before."

"So Harry might not be killed?" gasped Ron in a hopeful tone.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "It's not worth the risk."

"Agreed," said Remus.

"I'll keep looking," said Hermione in a determined tone. "We'll find another way."

Harry watched the others nod in agreement but he shook his head. "No!" he almost shouted. "It is worth the risk! We're talking about ending a war and you people are worried about one life!"

"Harry," said Dumbledore gently, "no matter what is at stake, I can't approve a course of action that would likely end your life."

"But what kind of life can I have as long as he's alive?" demanded Harry. "I can't go anywhere without at least three of my spell casters, the lives of the people I love most are constantly at risk ... No! We need to end this - I need to end this NOW!"

"Harry!" Ginny gasped, tears running down her cheeks. Harry glanced at her briefly but had to look away and steel himself against her pain.

"And even if I only kill him, and don't destroy his soul," Harry said, rising to his feet, "he'll COME BACK. Maybe he'll come back in five years, when I've got a good career as an Auror going. Or maybe he'll come back in ten years, when I'm married and have a couple of kids. I can't STAND the thought of living my whole life HIDING from him or WAITING for him to come back. THIS ENDS NOW!"

"Stop being such a tragic hero!" said Malfoy. "Sit down and shut up!"

Harry only barely heard the gasps of outrage as he turned his glare toward Malfoy. "Bugger off, Malfoy!" he yelled, angrily taking a step toward him.

"Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley in a shocked tone. Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed that she would be worried about his language at a time like this.

Remus stood up and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry started to shrug out of his grasp, but then looked up at him and was frozen by the look of pain in his eyes. "You're right, Harry, we need to end this, but be patient. Let us keep looking. We'll find something."

Harry gazed at Remus for another moment, unconvinced, but he knew it would do no one any good for him to run off and find Voldemort straight away, so he finally slumped back into his chair and crossed his arms, glaring at Malfoy.

Remus grasped Harry's shoulder and squeezed once, and then resumed his seat. "Albus, couldn't we find a spell that would separate the two souls in Harry's body ahead of time?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I hope so. I have been looking for a combination of potions and charms that will accomplish just that. With your permission, Harry, I would like to solicit the assistance of Professors Snape and Flitwick."

Harry shrugged and nodded his reluctant permission, hating that Snape would know about this, but acknowledging that they needed all the expertise they could obtain.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "I will warn you that the effects of such a process could be quite uncomfortable for you."

"What do you mean by 'uncomfortable'?" asked Mrs. Weasley, but Harry shook his head firmly.

"It doesn't matter," he said, looking Dumbledore in the eye. "I can live with being uncomfortable."

Dumbledore returned his intense gaze for a long moment, and Harry felt the familiar tugging at the edges of his mind. He focused solely on his determination to destroy Voldemort, hoping Dumbledore would have no doubt of his resolve. Finally, the headmaster nodded his head slightly and said, "You are an incredible young man, Harry. Your parents would be very proud." Harry nodded, unable to speak. "Now," said Dumbledore, rubbing his hands together and looking around at the others, "we need to review the Trilixicis Charm."

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"Okay - what do you think, now?" Ron asked, pushing his Potions essay toward Hermione.

Harry and Ron had left their homework for the last moment, as usual, but Harry felt they had a legitimate excuse this time. It was the third week of September and Ron had wanted to get a head start on Quidditch, so they had held tryouts over the weekend, and had already had a practice that week with their new Chaser and Beater.

Hermione had checked over Ron's essay and had given him some things to correct, but now she pushed it back to him impatiently. "If you changed the things I told you, Ron, you should have at least an E."

"Can't you look at it again?" Ron pleaded.

"I'm busy," said Hermione, "and you shouldn't have left it so late. It's your own fault."

"Fine," said Ron, his ears turning red. "I'm going to bed." He gathered up his things and stuffed them angrily into his bag. "Coming Harry?"

"In a bit," said Harry. "I've got a few more inches."

Malfoy had given him a few pointers on the assignment the day before, but Harry was still struggling with it. He had hoped to ask Hermione to look his over, too, but after her reaction to Ron he thought it might be better to see if Malfoy could read it at breakfast.

"Okay," said Ron, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Good night, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes as Ron stalked away. Hermione looked up briefly with a sad expression, but then sighed and returned to her work. As if he had heard her soft sigh, Ron stopped just before he reached the stairs and let out a sigh of his own. He turned around, walked back to Hermione's chair, and gently touched her face. "Night, Love," he whispered.

Hermione turned her face into Ron's hand and Harry looked away as Ron bent toward her.

Ron finally went upstairs; Harry and Hermione continued to work in silence for the next half hour. Ginny had gone to bed long ago, and by the time Harry put the final words on his essay, the common room was empty.

Harry stuffed the parchment into his book bag, stood, stretched, and glanced at his watch. "It's almost Midnight, Hermione," he said. "I'm going to bed - what about you?"

"In a little bit," Hermione said absently.

"What are you working on? You're not already studying for N.E.W.T.s, are you?"

"It's never too early to study for N.E.W.T.s, Harry," she said, looking up at him, "but no - this is the project I've been working on for Professor Vector since last fall."

Harry walked to her chair and looked over her shoulder. "It looks like a bunch of math problems."

"It's arithmancy, Harry." Harry couldn't see her face, but he was sure she was rolling her eyes. "We're very close to figuring out exactly what makes the wards around the castle work."

"What?" said Harry, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked at the rows upon rows of complicated calculations. "How can ma- I mean arithmancy tell you anything about that?"

"Well, we've used this set of calculations to determine which protection charm each of the founders put on the castle. Salazar Slytherin's was really quite nasty - more of a hex than a charm. Rowena Ravenclaw's was the most difficult to figure out, and I kept getting distracted by the movement of the staircases. Did you know you can actually predict the movement of every staircase in the castle with precise calculations?

"This next page shows the wards Headmaster Keane constructed in 1264 to encompass what we now know as the Quidditch pitch and part of the Forbidden Forest. In 1547, Headmaster Teague added another layer to those. There have been a few other layers added since then, but they have been far less complicated than the first six.

"I probably shouldn't be telling you this since it's a top secret project, but I think it's ever so interesting, and I know you won't tell anyone."

Harry had settled in the chair next to her as she was speaking, resigning himself to being there awhile. He had nodded and tried to look interested during Hermione's monologue, but he found his mind drifting. The frustration in her voice as she continued gained his attention, however.

"There's one part we can't figure out, though, one thing that ties all the different layers of wards together and allows them to act in tandem. That missing piece refuses to be decoded with arithmancy - it's almost like it's something ... organic ... I don't know." Hermione shrugged.

"You know," said Harry slowly, as if they information was being dragged from him, "I didn't want to tell you all this because I didn't want to worry you, but the wards have been weakening since last fall."

"Harry!" said Hermione with an exasperated expression. "Why do you insist on keeping things ... wait a minute - the wards have been weakening?" Harry nodded, and Hermione's eyes narrowed as she puzzled over this. "Professor Dumbledore must have wanted Professor Vector to analyse the wards because he knew they were weakening, and Professor Vector must not have wanted to worry me, either."

"Odd that he never mentioned that," said Harry. "He's talked about the wards weakening in Order meetings, but never told us that someone was working on it. It's killing him, you know."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hermione, obviously a bit shocked.

"Haven't you noticed how bad he's getting, Hermione?" he said, his expression turning sombre. "The wards are tied directly to his health, and he's been weakening as they have."

"Are you sure?" cried Hermione, her eyes widening with alarm and filling with tears. "I thought he was just getting old! Oh Harry, he can't die!" After a moment, she recovered and furrowed her brow in concentration as if she could single-handedly save Dumbledore's life if she could only figure it out. "You know, this might be the missing piece that's been eluding us. The health of the headmaster ..." Her words trailed off as her eyes glazed over a bit in apparent concentration. "Yes, I think that would fit," she continued, "but it doesn't make sense that Professor Vector didn't know about that. Why didn't he tell her?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he only needed the bits you already figured out. Maybe he doesn't completely trust her." His eyes flew open as another possibility occurred to him. "Maybe he never asked her to analyse them at all. Maybe she's a traitor."

"Of course she's not," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?"

"I know her, Harry - you don't. She's a good person."

"We've been fooled by teachers before," said Harry dubiously. "It makes sense, if you think about it. It sounds like the wards started weakening about the time you all started on this project. Professor Vector could be passing the information to the Death Eaters or even taking the wards down herself. It would explain a lot, including why she doesn't know about the tie to Dumbledore's heath, and why Dumbledore hasn't mentioned your project."

"No!" insisted Hermione, shaking her head. "It's not possible - she's not capable of that. You don't know her, Harry."

"Well, maybe it's not her," Harry conceded, hoping for her sake that she was right, "but I still think we should go to Dumbledore about this." He stood and said, "Come on."

"Now?" Hermione's eyes flew open as she looked up at Harry. "It's the middle of the night!"

"If I'm right, Hermione, you could be in danger. Besides, you're the one who always wants to talk to him about things."

"I didn't say I wouldn't go," said Hermione with a scowl, "I just didn't understand why we needed to go at Midnight. But if you insist, I suppose we may as well get it over with."

Harry retrieved his invisibility cloak and they made their way awkwardly to Dumbledore's office. The friends had grown too tall to share the cloak with any ease, and Harry felt the chill of Hermione's irritation more severely because of the close proximity.

Harry gave the password to the gargoyle and pulled off the invisibility cloak when it closed behind them. They ascended the spiral staircase in uncomfortable silence, and Harry felt relieved when he could finally pound on the door to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore opened the door within seconds, dressed in a bright purple dressing gown and huge orange fuzzy slippers.

"Harry, Hermione, what brings you here at this late hour?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

"Sorry, Professor," said Harry. "We needed to talk to you, and it couldn't wait until morning."

"By all means - come in." Dumbledore stepped out of the way so they could enter, shut the door behind them, and then ambled slowly to his desk, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Hermione's been working on a project with Professor Vector for almost a year," explained Harry as he and Hermione took seats in front of Dumbledore's desk. "Show him, Hermione."

Hermione pulled the parchments out of her bag, looked through them and shifted some around, and then laid the pile on Dumbledore's desk. "It's the wards, Sir - you know - you asked Professor Vector to analyse them using arithmancy."

Dumbledore looked through the parchments, his expression becoming more and more grave as he examined Hermione's work. Finally, he fixed Hermione with a piercing gaze and said, "I did not ask Professor Vector to do any such thing."

"Y-you didn't?" Hermione said, beginning to look a little panicked.

"No, Hermione, I did not. I have no wish to jump to conclusions, but I must wonder why Professor Vector would take it upon herself to do this."

"I thought she was trying to help you," said Hermione, wringing her hands in her lap restlessly.

"I think she's spying for Voldemort and taking down the wards," said Harry, anger blossoming in his stomach as he realized that Hermione had been deceived.

Dumbledore nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I think it may be helpful, Hermione, if you relate to me exactly what she told you and what you've been working on."

"I think everything I've worked on is there in my notes," said Hermione, managing to look both puzzled and sad at the same time.

"Yes, and it is impressive work," said the headmaster. "How did it come about?"

Hermione sighed heavily. "Professor Vector held me back after class one day last October. She told me I was her most promising student, even more so than any of the seventh years. I've always liked her, so I was honoured when she asked me to work on a project with her.

"She said you wanted her to find a way to strengthen the wards in case Voldemort decided to attack here. She said the wards were so ancient that even you didn't know exactly how they were structured, and that the best way to find out how charms and spells are put together is through arithmancy."

Hermione paused for a moment, closing her eyes briefly and shaking her head. "I can't believe she did this, and that she involved me," she said, anger and hurt flashing in her eyes. Her expression softened into remorse as she said, "I'm so sorry, Professor - I feel really stupid."

Dumbledore shook his head slightly and gave Hermione a tiny smile. "As you know, even I have been deceived by professors. It has nothing to do with intelligence."

"I didn't see any reason not to believe her," said Hermione, looking at Dumbledore with pleading eyes. "She had been my teacher for three years, and I had talked with her several times outside of class."

Dumbledore nodded his head in agreement. "Until today I knew of no reason not to trust her. Of course, our association has not been as long as some of the other professors, which is why she is not a member of the Order of the Phoenix." He paused for a moment and then said, "Did she ever ask you about Harry?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, she did," she said as though surprised. Her eyes narrowed as she puzzled over that. "Maybe I should have known since she asked about Harry," she murmured, almost inaudibly.

"Or you might have believed she was asking you about him because he is your close friend," said Dumbledore with a shrug.

"Yes," said Hermione a bit absently as she appeared to be searching her memories. "She asked me about Ron, too, so I suppose I didn't really think much about it when she asked about Harry."

"What did you tell Professor Vector about Harry?" Dumbledore prodded gently.

"I didn't tell her about the prophecy or the Trilixicis Charm, if that's what you mean," Hermione said quickly. "She mostly asked me why he lived as a baby, why Voldemort seemed to want to kill him, what it's like being friends with someone so famous - things like that. Things that Lavender, Parvati, and other people ask me all the time."

Harry felt a bit bemused that people continued to ask his best friend about him after all these years, but he had more important things on which to focus. "So are you going to turn Vector in to the Ministry?" asked Harry, angry and eager to see Hermione vindicated.

Dumbledore gazed at Harry with unreadable eyes for a few moments, and then looked at Hermione. "No," he said, dragging out the syllable a bit, "I think we could better use this information to our advantage if we kept Professor Vector here at the castle."

"What?" said Harry with narrowed eyes. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Perhaps," said the headmaster, turning to Hermione. "Do you think you could continue to work with Professor Vector under these circumstances?"

"Are you serious?" Hermione said, obviously taken aback. Then her eyes widened slowly and a devious smile crept across her face. "You mean for me to report back to you," she said, nodding.

Harry couldn't help a smile at the irony. "Spying on the spy," he said. He frowned, however, as another thought occurred to him. "Doesn't that put Hermione in too much danger?"

"I can do it," said Hermione, her eyes hardening in determination. "She'll never know."

"I don't know, Hermione," said Harry, shaking his head. "What if Vector finds out? She might hurt you."

"I'm doing this," said Hermione with a nod. "I put the whole school in danger because of my gullibility. I need to do this - to fix this."

"Hermione, I am not asking you to do this as reparation. I am simply taking advantage of a tactical opportunity," said Dumbledore.

"But if Professor Vector figures out about the missing piece, she'll take down the wards, and that will kill you!" Harry cried.

Harry was glad to see a tiny twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes as he shook his head and said, "Actually, I want Hermione to tell Professor Vector about the link to my health. I have an idea."

************************************************

Harry doubled over and grabbed his midsection, shouting as if in extreme pain, while furtively looking around the common room to ensure plenty of people noticed him.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Ginny, her face schooled into a concerned expression.

"I don't know," Harry gasped, letting his body fall onto the sofa next to her.

"I think we need to get you to the hospital wing," said Ron in an unnaturally loud voice.

"No, I'll be okay." Harry made his voice sound strained. "I probably just ate something that didn't agree with me at dinner."

Hermione got up from her chair by the fire and hurried over to Harry, a worried look plastered on her face. "I'm not so sure," she said, leaning over to peer at his face. "The Maglican Flu starts out with stomach cramps and a fever." She touched the back of her hand to his forehead and said, "Yes, I think we'd better get you to Madam Pomfrey. She'll know what to do."

Harry rolled his eyes and made himself look disgruntled. "All right - if you insist," he said. Ginny nudged him slightly as he stood, reminding him that he was supposed to be having stomach pain, and he quickly grabbed his midsection with one arm. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all followed him through the portrait hole.

"You don't all have to come," Harry said in a quiet voice as soon as they were out of the common room. "I'm just going to be unconscious all weekend. Rather boring, actually."

"Shut up, Harry," said Ginny, taking his hand.

Harry was actually rather nervous about what was about to happen to him. Remus, Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Snape had worked together to research and develop a combination of charms and potions to separate the two souls within his body. The result, which was based partially on the theory behind the dementor's kiss, would take at least a month to administer. Remus had insisted that Harry be sedated during the first two days, when the pain would likely be at its worst. Snape had protested that sedation might weaken the effectiveness of the potion, but Harry couldn't help wondering if the Potions Master just wanted to see him in great pain.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for them in the hospital wing along with Remus, Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Snape. Harry was both touched that the Weasleys cared enough to be there and annoyed at all the attention. Madam Pomfrey glared disapprovingly at the crowd of people as she bustled Harry behind a screen to change into pyjamas.

As Harry was settling into a bed, the door burst open and Malfoy strutted in, his eyes hardening in defiance at the hostile stares that turned his way. Harry rolled his eyes and said, "You didn't have to come, Malfoy."

Instead of joining the crowd standing at the end of Harry's bed, Malfoy flopped into the chair beside it. "I needed a headache potion," he said with a shrug. "I suppose she'll have to take care of you first, though."

Ginny gave Malfoy a venomous look, positioned another chair between Harry's bed and Malfoy's chair, and took Harry's hand in both of her own. Harry gave her a weak smile and said, "Let's get this over with."

Professor Dumbledore hobbled to the other side of Harry's bed, leaning heavily on his walking stick, and then turned slowly to address the group. "I know Harry appreciates your support at this time, but what will be even more vital will be your continuing support during the coming weeks and possibly months of this process. To our knowledge, nothing like this has ever been attempted before, and though we believe it will be successful, there is no way for us to predict the effects Harry will experience. It is likely that Harry's personality, the essence of who he is, his very being will unravel as this treatment takes effect and the two souls are separated." Dumbledore turned to Harry and though he was obviously weak, his blue eyes pierced Harry's like drills. "Do you understand, Harry?"

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand; he glanced at her and saw that she was struggling not to cry. Harry turned his gaze back to Dumbledore and in a firm tone said, "I understand."

"Then let us begin," said Dumbledore as Professor Flitwick stepped forward.

Ginny kissed Harry's cheek, touched his face with her hand, and went to stand next to her mother, who draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Malfoy had also joined the group and was gazing at him with a look of mild fear. Harry scanned the rest of the faces and was a bit annoyed at the various expressions of apprehension and sorrow; they were acting as if he was going to die, and he suddenly felt a crazy urge to reassure them all.

He was silent as Flitwick performed the complicated-sounding charm, and then waited, mildly surprised that he didn't feel something right away. Harry shrugged and smiled slightly at his friends as Snape stepped forward carrying a goblet that was smoking ominously. The Potions Master's eye glittered almost hungrily as Harry forced down the vile liquid.

Thankfully, the pain didn't begin until he had swallowed the last mouthful, or he probably would have choked. It began in his chest, slamming him back onto the bed as if he'd been hit with a curse. The pain travelled through his limbs and up his neck, strangling his cries as it made its way to his head. Just as he thought he couldn't take any more, he fell into welcome darkness.