Harry Potter and the Alchemist's Cell

Albus Dumbledore was thrown backwards into the wall behind him. The strength of that curse was incredible!

Grindelwald was smirking, clearly believing he was the superior wizard. No, he was much more than a wizard. He had gone further than anyone else in his attempts to achieve immortality.

It was truly a shame that things had come to this. He and Albus had been very close, all those years ago. Albus had always had the attention of Grindelwald's former partner. Nicholas had always seen something in the man who was now crumpled on the ground before him.

Grindelwald and Flamel had set out to study the possibilities of achieving immortality, fully succumbing to the alchemist's perspective by chance. They had not meant to create the "Elixir of Life"; however, fate had guided their hands.

Fredrick Grindelwald had sought out the notorious Nicolas Flamel, with an idea the likes of which had never been proposed before. He had wondered what would happen if a wizard was able to enchant an object to hold a portion of the said wizards soul. He had inquired whether this would, in essence, achieve immortality.

Nicolas was intrigued by the proposition, and thus their alliance was forged. The pair worked for years to discover the secret, and eventually Nicolas took on an apprentice by the name of Albus Dumbledore. The three of them then spent years refining their ideas, inventing new strategies, brewing an assortment of unique potions, and at long last, accidentally stumbled across their Elixir. It came out of an idea from Nicolas' young apprentice, young Albus had suggested they use Dragons' Blood.

After years of hard work, they had created a solid form of their new discovery, the stone itself. By this time, Nicolas was growing old, and after finally seeing the results of his work, decided to retire. They named their "invention" the Philosophers Stone, a worthy name, one which spoke of knowledge and grandeur, though Fredrick Grindelwald was not satisfied. It appeared that immortality would come at a price; the user of the elixir would be completely dependent on it, and if something ever happened to the stone, the drinker would die. Thus Fredrick wished to return to his preliminary idea, and was bent upon continuing that research.

Nicolas had agreed to keep the stone safe, allowing his partner to travel and conduct his own forms of investigation. When Fredrick returned from his travels, however, he was a changed man. He approached Flamel with a grin on his face, claiming to have finally achieved his mission, he knew how to split his soul, and keep a piece of it safe.

Nicolas was astounded, but the happiness was short lived, as the old man began to notice the changes in Fredrick's character, and his ideas. Something had happened to him during his time away, and it scared the Alchemist dreadfully.

Soon, Nicolas Flamel broke off his communications with Fredrick for good, condemning the man he once considered a friend. Grindelwald was not ashamed, he had completed his research, knew that he was right. 'Surely Albus will understand the significance of these finds,' he thought.

Albus Dumbledore had been the Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, during which time he conducted his own research on advanced forms of magic and the spectacular uses of Dragon's Blood... if only he knew. After breaking his ties to Flamel, Fredrick approached Albus with his findings, but the man looked disappointed.

"Let it go, Fredrick. Immortality is not worth the price. There are things worse than death, my old friend."

Angry at his friends' reluctance to accept his new ideas, Grindelwald published his theories, under the concept of "Horcruxes." It seemed, however, that the world was not ready for his findings. Shortly after publication, all forms of his research were banned. The information that remained on Horcruxes was fragmented, twisted, and confused, with nobody to fill in the gaps, for Grindelwald had vanished.

It was during this time that Fredrick became intent on proving his methods. He would do it; he would use himself as his test subject, though he would need another person as well, a victim...it had to be done. The pain was incredible, nothing that he had ever felt before and thus he had nothing to relate it to, but it had worked; Grindelwald had created a Horcrux.

Coming back from his exile, he approached Dumbledore again, having refined his concepts with proof. His ideas were more concise and had been tested, but the old man looked frightened.

"What have you done, Fredrick?" he had said softly.

"I have gone further than any other Albus, I am immortal, and I have created a Horcrux!" Grindelwald responded, not understanding his friend's misgivings; he did not see the flaw in his own plan. Surely Dumbledore would come around.

"Look at yourself!" Dumbledore responded, forcing him to take notice of his appearance. It was true, the creation of the Horcrux had been straining. His skin had taken on a pallor that didn't look human, and the skin on his face appeared stretched, forcing his eyes into slits with a hint of red beneath the pupils. If these were the prices he paid for immortality then so be it.

"No! You look at yourself!" Grindelwald threw back. "You are weak, and I am powerful, more powerful that you could ever dream of being!" With this last comment, Grindelwald had departed, planning on republishing his refined ideas. He was once again thrown aside, for his ideas were considered barbaric. The concept of Horcruxes was blacklisted at the Ministry, and most forms of his research were completely destroyed, leaving only the smallest fragments if ideas intact. Fredrick Grindelwald was forced into exile once again, and the world soon regarded his concepts as taboo.

It was about this time that he had taken on the mantle of Dark Lord. Shunned by the Wizarding World, he had vowed to make them understand what kind of power he could command. During his exile he studied all forms of Dark Magic, spending much of his time in the dangerous woods of Albania, and the vast deserts of Egypt.

When he returned to the world, he was not the man he was before; he was much more than a man.

Grindelwald's retribution was swift. He gathered many followers to his cause, promising them great power and riches (demonstrating his own), and it was not long before he had felt bold enough to attack the Ministry itself in hopes of bringing out his strongest opposition, his old friend Albus Dumbledore.

Many on both sides died in his attack on the Ministry, both martyrs and traitors to their own cause. Nevertheless, he would be revered and honored above all others, when he was finished. The people would know who was all powerful, and he would maintain his power out of fear!

He hadn't seen his old friend for many years, but clearly the man wasn't ready to accept the truth. He was merely an annoyance now; he would have to be disposed of.

He was brought out of this reminiscence by his old friend; Albus Dumbledore rose shakily to his feet.

As he took in the sight of Grindelwald before him, he knew that things could never be the same. This man was not the friend he had once known. He had been influenced by evil, consorted with it, and was inevitably consumed by it.

He had not seen Fredrick Grindelwald for many years, and was ashamed of what had become of him.

Albus Dumbledore was not normally surprised, but in this instance, what his old friend had done was completely unexpected, and completely abhorrent.

"It has been along time, Albus," said the Dark Lord slowly, gauging the reaction of his former friend, and smiling serenely, though he knew his friend was in a terrible state. Albus had Apparated to the Ministry, intent on stopping him. There had been no hesitation.

As the old man gathered his bearings, Grindelwald sent a powerful curse at him, throwing him into the wall behind him, cracking the stone with the impact.

The smile on Grindelwald's face had never faltered. "Join me, Albus; let us be friendly once again. Allow things to be as they were before. I have learned so much; let me teach you what I know." In his heart, Grindelwald had hoped that he wouldn't have to kill the man, but in his mind he knew that Dumbledore would just get in the way.

"I do not wish to have anything to do with what you have learned," Albus replied. "My old friend, look what you have done to yourself!"

Grindelwald's smile finally faded as he prepared himself for the battle to come.

"I am giving you the privilege of aiding me, and you would turn your back on it. You are a coward! I have become more powerful than any wizard, Albus!"

He grew angrier by the second, allowing the feeling to seep into the remaining part of his soul. He knew no fear, he could not die. He had his Horcrux safely put away.

"I know what you have done, old friend. I know the lengths you went to in order to achieve immortality, but there are things worse than death, and I am prepared to end this." As Albus spoke, he withdrew a sheath from beneath his robes.

Knowing what was inside, Grindelwald faltered. Could it be? Albus had found it. He had clearly misjudged the man before him; he was more powerful than he had let on. Grindelwald had made sure to protect his Horcrux with the most powerful of Dark Magic, and it would have taken a truly powerful wizard to break through his protections. His anger grew inside of him once again, and the world around him turned black with his rage towards the man before him.

Sliding the sword out from its scabbard with a metallic cling, Albus held the weapon in the air. Noticing the rage on Grindelwald's face, he threw the sword to the ground, the light reflecting from its surface; its rubies glistening in the diminishing light of the Ministry's atrium.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor is merely a sword once more," Albus said, his meaning not lost on the Dark Lord.

Grindelwald was so angry that all notions of letting the man survive were washed away. He had spent years developing the technique, and at last he had done it. He had achieved immortality. The fool had destroyed that hope, had destroyed his dreams, he wanted to cause the man pain!

"NO!" cried Grindelwald savagely, removing his wand from the pocket of his robes.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The eerie green glow of the killing curse was thrown from his wand, but Albus dodged the curse easily enough. Without a moment's hesitation he threw a curse back at the Dark Lord.

Grindelwald put up his shield in time, but was thrown back by the force of the spell. Regaining his footing he spoke again to Dumbledore.

"Ah, so I see that you have been doing a bit of your own experimenting then," Grindelwald remarked, a sneer etching the worn lines of his face. He had never encountered a wizard of such skill and power before, save for himself. Grindelwald admitted inwardly that he was frightened. With the destruction of his Horcrux, he was once again mortal, the fear of death threatened to take over, but he forced it down, and attacked again. An invisible force threw Albus Dumbledore into the air, slamming him hard on the ground a few yards back, and the arrogant gleam returned to Grindelwald's eyes.

He pointed his weapon to the far corner of the room, magically removing the cloth that was hiding a cage. Albus Dumbledore would feel pain!

Grindelwald had made sure to have the man's wife and child brought to the ministry, expecting Albus to try and defeat him.

He could see the fear on the old man's face now, the despair, and like a child, the man would crumble.

"You will kill you wife, or I will kill your child! Make your choice!"

Staring at his old friend incredulously, Albus Dumbledore succumbed to grief, and fell to his knees in agony.

"Crucio!" Grindelwald sneered, torturing the Professor's wife in front of him. The woman's screams echoing in the deserted chamber.

". . . Don't like . . . want to stop . . ." Dumbledore mumbled incoherently, loosing what little resolve he had left.

Grindelwald was smiling now, though the transformation of his body did not allow for it to look genuine. He lifted his curse and instead trained it on the boy.

"NO..." Albus groaned, despair and grief on his lined face.

"Kill her, Old Man! Do it now, Albus, or I will kill the boy!" Grindelwald declared.

"I don't want to. ... I don't want to. . . . Let them go. . . ." Albus moaned again. He had not expected Grindelwald to capture his family, they had been protected, and he had made sure that they were safe...

With a look of disgust on his face as he watched the old man on the cold stone floor, Grindelwald screamed again, "Crucio!" this time pointing his want at Dumbledore.

The man screamed in mingled grief and agony as his world began to spin. After a few moments, which felt like hours, Grindelwald lifted the curse.

"No, no, no, no, I can't, I can't, don't make me, I don't want to. . . ." Albus moaned once more, intent on sacrificing himself for his family. Composing himself again, Albus rose to his feet. "It's all my fault, all my fault," he said to himself slowly.

Masking his true intent, he quickly tried to stun the Dark Lord. His concentration was diminished, however, and Grindelwald blocked the curse easily, disarming the old man in the process.

Anger rose again in Grindelwald's mind, he would make the old man pay! He pointed his wand at Dumbledore's wife, placing the Cruciatus curse on her again, making it last longer than before.

"Please..." Albus cried as he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, asking forgiveness for trying to deceive the Dark Lord. 'Make is stop,' he thought to himself.

"Don't hurt them, don't hurt them, please, please, it's my fault, hurt me instead ..."

Grindelwald complied, moving the curse to the old man once again.

Albus Dumbledore was a broken man. He screamed in agony, not seeing a way out of his situation. He loved his family too much; 'love! His weakness was love!" The idea had come so suddenly, though he couldn't understand why he hadn't thought of it earlier.

Grindelwald relented. "Fool! You're pathetic! I'll just kill them myself!"

He pointed his wand at Albus's wife again, "Please, please, please, no ... not that, not that, I'll do anything ..." the man interrupted, brought out of his thought, though he continued to try and find a way out.

The torture began again...

"No more, please, no more!" Albus screamed. Wasn't it enough? How could this be the same man who had befriended him all those years ago, here, now, torturing his family infornt of him? Before he finished his thought, he knew that this man was not the Fredrick Grindelwald he had once known.

"That's enough; I grow tired of these games Albus!"

An eerie green glow filled the atrium, and then there was only silence.

Albus was in shock. He was now all alone..."I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die! KILL ME!" He moaned, incoherently. Telling himself that if he died, his family would be alright, somehow, they were connected.

"You have destroyed my life's work, now I have destroyed yours, consider us even!" Grindelwald shouted over the sobs of his former friend.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, training his wand on the old man.

Quicker than he thought anybody could move, Albus Dumbledore rolled out of the way of the curse, extending his arm towards the Dark Lord.

Grindelwald was thrown back across the room, smashing through the ornate fountain in its center, sending chunks of marble flying in different directions.

Albus Dumbledore was angry, his hate and lust for revenge fueled his attack. He picked up his wand, walking deliberately towards his injured adversary, tears of regret streaming down his face.

Grindelwald struggled to his feet, and fear gripped him as he saw his enemy's slow approach. He sent curse after curse at the old man, powerful, never before seen curses, but Dumbledore never broke his stride, brandishing his wand like a whip, deflecting the curses to either side.

The Atrium was in ruins, the Fountain of Magical Brethren destroyed. Albus Dumbledore would have his vengeance. Grindelwald cowered as Albus moved closer. Desperation made the Dark Lord's curses stronger, but Dumbledore deflected them all the same.

In no time at all, he was upon him, and Grindelwald was thrown up against the wall, held in place by Dumbledore's wand.

Albus Dumbledore was scowling, his worn face etched with a rage he had never known before.

As he watched Grindelwald's expression change to fear, Albus regained his composure. He wasn't an evil man, and could not kill for revenge, he was better than that. What this man had done was terrible, but he would not bring himself down to his level, or he would be no better. Love once again filled his mind...

Albus knew what he had to do; he had developed the spell, and refined it in his many years of research. He knew that this was a just fate for the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Fate was not without its irony.

"You would kill me then, Albus? You would strike me down with your hatred and rage; you would cut me down and send me from this earth in revenge? You're no better than I am!"

"No, my old friend..." Albus spoke these words softly, thinking about the people he would never see again on this world. Albus Dumbledore thought of the love of his family; his wife, and son. He allowed the feeling to fill him up, relax his mind. He lowered his wand, holding Grindelwald in place with only his mind. With his wand arm now free, he made a complex and slow series of motions, allowing the images of his family and the love he had for them to course through his veins, and he said softy,

"No...I will destroy you with love..."

"Antimortra!"

A spell was unleashed of magnificent proportions. With a blinding blue glow filling the destroyed atrium, a crackling of magic through the air, and a chilling cry that echoed through the walls of the Ministry of Magic, the Dark Lord Grindelwald was no more.

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

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" said the boy at once.

In his heart he knew that Draco would not kill him, he needed to try and persuade him to accept help. Albus was being weakened by the potion; his old age could not sustain the lasting effect that Voldemort's tonic would bring about. He had seen this potion before, and knew from whom Tom Riddle had gotten the recipe; the thought chilled him to the bone. He had once told Harry that his mistakes tended to be greater than those of other men, and he had been correct.

His body would die without the magic to sustain it; he needed Severus; he was the only man who would be able to help him now.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight," said Dumbledore conversationally, hearing the fight raging down below. "But you were saying ... yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school which, I admit, I thought impossible ... how did you do it?"

As Draco continued to hesitate, Albus continued to speak, "I see you are afraid to act until they join you."

Dumbledore could sense Draco's nervousness as another cry echoed from down below. He felt himself sink lower on the ramparts as he continued his conversation with Mr. Malfoy.

The bangs and shouts from inside the castle grew louder, and Dumbledore concentrated harder on the spell he used to bind Harry to the wall. He could not allow Harry to be released and "act the hero" tonight; there would be a time for him to act. For now, Harry needed to remain safe. He would not fail this young boy, as he had failed all those years ago.

Suddenly, the doors to the battlements where thrown outward and four Death Eaters entered the walkway, the doors loosely closing behind them. Stalling for time and searching for a way out of his predicament, he traded jibes with the Death Eaters, allowing them the satisfaction of having him cornered, waiting for an opportunity to arise.

Slipping a bit further down the stone wall, Albus could feel Harry's anger, at being bound, radiate from him. He knew it was difficult for the boy to be rendered helpless, but if things went wrong, he couldn't risk Harry being hurt, it couldn't happen again.

Without warning, the doors to the battlements were blasted off their hinges; Severus Snape strode onto the scene, cloak billowing out in his wake, with an expression of the deepest loathing etched on his face.

Something was wrong; Albus had tried to read the man's mind, but Severus was employing Occlumency against him. Fear gripped the old man. He didn't understand. Why wasn't Severus aiding them? Why was he blocking his mind?

The realization of the situation became suddenly clear, as if a dense fog had lifted from in front of his eyes, and he understood what had happened, knew that he had been betrayed.

"Severus ..." Dumbledore said softly, disappointment and regret staining his once peaceful expression. He knew then that Harry had been right, that they all had been right. He had been blinded by his inherent need to believe the best in everybody, he had been played the fool.

"Severus ... please ..." Dumbledore mumbled, not truly believing what was happening, as he watched his trusted friend raise his wand. He felt defeated; all hope was lost. Albus Dumbledore continued to weaken from the potion, but there was no fear any longer, only regret. He had truly failed...and now, the world would fall, Harry would not succeed.

The hope that had previously faded suddenly intensified once more as Albus focused once again on Harry Potter. He had faith in the boy, and it had made his long life worth living. He embraced what was about to happen, no longer regretting what had transpired, knowing that Harry had the strength in him to succeed; the love.

Albus Dumbledore looked up into Severus Snape's eyes, seeing the hate and loathing present within. He allowed the magical twinkle that he was known for to once again fill his eyes, as Severus cried:

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light sped towards him, and time seemed to slow down. As the light impacted Albus Dumbledore in the chest, he felt no pain. As death took him, he was thrown into the air, suspended in the greenish glow of death. Albus Dumbledore's body fell from the highest tower of Hogwarts castle to the damp grass below landing beneath the twinkling green symbol of evil that was spread out in the black sky above. Albus Dumbledore would at last see his family again ... he had died...