Training and Confrontations

Chapter XLIV

Harry and Dumbledore hurriedly led nineteen others towards the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets: McGonagall and Flitwick; Ron and Ginny (who had flooed to Hogwarts earlier that evening without telling Harry or Ron ahead of time); nine aurors and hit wizards (including Tonks and Shacklebolt) and Moody; Remus and Snape; and Hagrid, with Madam Pomfrey and Tracy (who would act as medics, if necessary) bringing up the rear. The group was moving as fast as Moody could go.

"You look worried, Severus," Remus said with a bit of humor.

"If you're not at least worried, then you're as foolhardy as you are foolish," Snape growled.

"Actually, I'm not terribly worried," Remus said with assurance. "If Harry and Luna are right, then Voldemort is alone with his victims. Harry's connections should be more than enough to take care of the so-called Dark Lord. Even if Voldemort's so-called victims are actually laying in wait for us, we should be more than a match for them."

Snape shook his head. "I never heard of an optimistic werewolf before."

The group approached the entrance to the main Chamber a short time later. "How could Voldemort have gotten in?" Shacklebolt demanded. The remains of the cave-in had taken Dumbledore nearly three minutes to clear.

"There must be another entrance," Harry answered. "Mostly likely, through the Forbidden Forest, perhaps even going under the lake."

"Are you all ready?" Dumbledore asked. Everyone nodded from their set positions. "Go ahead, Harry."

Harry commanded the entrance to open. As it opened, pain shot through Harry's scar for the first time since the previous October. Dumbledore took this as an opportunity to hurry in first, followed by Harry. The others crowded the entrance.

Voldemort was indeed in the Chamber, with his dozen sacrifices surrounding him. All were either screaming, or had passed out from their screaming. A glowing, sickly green mist was just starting to come out of all of them, and the globs of mist were starting to swirl around towards Voldemort.

Dumbledore rushed into the circle ahead of Harry, calling out Commands of Power. Voldemort screamed in anger as the mist started to dissipate, and tried to counteract Dumbledore's Commands. Harry added a Command of his own to the fight, and that turned the action into the Defeat of Voldemort, for at that moment, there was a bright flash of multi-colored light.

Only Dumbledore and Harry were fully inside the Chamber, as McGonagall, Shacklebolt, and Tonks had tripped over each other trying to follow.

Following the flash of light, there was . . . nothing.

There was not a sound from inside the Chamber, and most of the magical torches had been extinguished. After the moment of stunned silence passed, Professor Flitwick took command. "Johnson, Stover, Starling, drag those three out from the entrance, and then transport them back to Madam Pomfrey! Alastor! Scan the inside of the Chamber! The rest of you! Back off!"

After the others had done as he commanded, Flitwick peeked inside the actual Chamber. A word relit the touches. "Harry and Albus are lying on the floor, as are twelve other people and a rather large serpent. There's no sign of Voldemort."

Flitwick looked around a bit more. "Right," Flitwick said. "Everyone, stay out." He stepped cautiously into the Chamber, while the others, especially Harry's four friends and Hagrid, were barely able to contain their concerns.

Flitwick cast several charms over the Chamber, and over the bodies laying around on the floor. Finally satisfied there were no obvious traps after some three long minutes, Flitwick turned back to the entrance. "Lupin! Snape! Get in here and take Harry and the Headmaster out to Madam Pomfrey." Flitwick went back to examining the others.

"Harry's alive," Remus said to the four concerned teens and the sobbing Hagrid as he came out. "He's breathing normally."

"The headmaster is also alive, but I don't like the sound of his breathing," Snape said, coming directly after Lupin. "Miss Lovegood, Mister Weasley! Come with me. Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, go with Potter."

Harry woke up with a headache. With his animagi-enhanced sense of smell, he did not even have to finish taking a deep breath to know he was once again stuck in a private room in the Infirmary. After taking that deep breath, however, he knew he was not alone. A slight movement on his part confirmed he was snuggled between Luna and Hermione. He also knew that Ron, Tracy, and Ginny were not far away.

At that moment, he caught another scent. "Neville?" Harry whispered in surprise.

"Hi, Harry," Neville said softly. Harry heard Neville enter the room, obviously with a limp. "Professor Flitwick sent for me. He said he thought the six of us, or rather, the seven of us, should be together."

Harry opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"A little before Ten."

"On?"

"Oh, Tuesday morning."

Harry sighed. At least he had not been out of things for too long. "Good. Do you know what happened last night?"

"No, not really," Neville admitted. "I do know that the ceremony wasn't completed. It was designed to take away the lives and powers of those twelve people, and they are all alive, and Professor Flitwick said that they were still magical as far as he could tell. They're still out of it, and so is Professor Dumbledore."

"So, it's not good news, but not all bad news, then," Harry said thoughtfully. "Did Professor Flitwick say anything else?"

"Not really, but no one is sure what is wrong with those twelve people Voldemort was going to sacrifice."

"That can't be good," Harry said.

"I suppose not," Neville agreed. "Oh, and that snake of Lord Thingy's is dead. Old Snape did it himself, before Hagrid could make a pet out of it or something."

"That's good, anyway," Harry said.

"Hagrid's already skinned it and sent it off to the tanners. Professor Snape is turning most of the rest of it into potion ingredients."

"That's good, too."

"Anyway, Professor Flitwick asked me to check on you, because there are some people to see you."

"Anyone we know?"

"Actually . . . I think it's the same group you trained with in Rushak."

"The Dragons?"

"The Dragons."

Harry sighed, and eased his way out from the center of his nest.

No one saw Harry for the rest of that day or, even more worrying, that night. Nor did they see very much of Professor Flitwick, and he refused to answer any of the questions shouted at him in passing. Everyone who had been concerned with the foray into the Chamber of Secrets had been thoroughly debriefed, and many of the questionings came closer to grillings than interviews.

Professor Dumbledore had awoken shortly after noon that Tuesday. Over Madam Pomfrey's objections, he had checked himself out of the Infirmary shortly after 3:00.

He was not seen for the rest of the day or evening, either.

Wednesday, July 2, 1997

By lunch on Wednesday, the tempers of quite a number of people at Hogwarts were growing short. Hermione's was probably the shortest, in large part because she had no one to take her temper out on. Fortunately, before she could start actively taking her temper out on some one or some thing which was undeserving, a house elf she did not know appeared towards the end of the meal.

"Headmaster requests your presence in his office at Three. Headmaster wishes to inform you that Harry Potter will be there." The elf bowed and then quickly disappeared.

"About time," Hermione growled.

Harry and his friends, Dumbledore and the senior members of the Order, and Minister Bones were all present in the Headmaster's Office. "First of all," Dumbledore said, "we are sorry we had to leave for a short time. Harry and I needed to consult with some allies."

The group who had been to Rushak and a few others understood this to mean the Dragons, and that Harry and Dumbledore had in fact gone to Rushak to meet with them.

"Secondly, let me tell you the good news. Voldemort totally failed in his attempt to steal the life and magic from his victims last night. Voldemort chose the Chamber of Secrets to perform this rite because for him it symbolized the place where he started to displace the Tom Riddle he was with the Lord Voldemort he became. Had the ceremony been completed, all his original transformations would have been, in a sense, overlaid with new, stronger versions of those transformations, and those would have been reenforced by the lives and magic he was stealing. In short, Voldemort had hoped to totally reinvent himself, and in so doing, he also hoped to end the Prophecy."

"Why?" the Minister asked.

"Voldemort had hoped that by recreating himself because of Harry's pressure on him, and because of the damage Harry had caused his first recreated body, that would fulfill the Prophecy. While he likely never heard the complete Prophecy, it was obvious to him that his old self had to go, since he had failed time and time again to kill Harry."

"But it failed?" Hermione asked.

"The ceremony failed, but it partially succeeded in breaking the Prophecy. Harry and I ended the ceremony just before the new transformations were overlaid on Tom Riddle. In a physical sense, Lord Voldemort is no more. Tom Riddle remains."

That was met with a puzzled silence. Then Harry moved his bangs.

There was no scar.

"My links with Voldemort are almost totally gone, because in many ways there is no longer any Voldemort, only Tom Riddle," Harry said.

"Tom Riddle was, and is, a very powerful sorcerer," Dumbledore pointed out. "We do not know his current condition, but unless he is severely injured, he is fully as powerful as I ever was. However, he is totally human and mortal again. We do not believe any of the ceremonies he once worked, and tried replacing, can be used on his current body, in a sense, he is immune to those changes now. He is, as I said, fully mortal, but he still has all the knowledge and hatred he had before."

When no one said anything, Dumbledore went on, "As for Harry, he is still more powerful than I or Riddle were at his age, but not to the degree he was."

"Can you give us any examples?" Remus asked.

"Yes. Harry drove away over a hundred dementors at the end of his Third year. He easily destroyed large groups of dementors last October. I would say he could now still easily drive away ninety and destroy them in groups of a dozen or less. He can no longer cast an anti-apparation ward by himself, or an anti-portkey ward with the help of only one person. He can do so with one and two people aiding him, however, instead of the normal groups of four and eight. He was easily taking on three hit-wizards, or four or even five aurors. He could now take on say two hit-wizards or three aurors. His wandless magic remains fairly high, and his knowledge, of course, has not eroded. Over time, naturally, Harry's power will slowly continue to grow, as all of our power does over time, but it will grow slowly. He is still more than a match for Riddle."

"And you, Albus?" McGonagall asked gently.

"I am not," Dumbledore admitted. "I have to admit, I damaged myself last night. I advanced too quickly into the center of Voldemort's ritual, and I have suffered the consequences of being caught by the backlash of that much Dark Magic. I cannot fully regret doing so, because it insured that Voldemort is no more."

"What exactly does that mean?" McGonagall demanded before anyone else could.

"It means several things," Dumbledore said. "It means I can perform at my old high levels of magic for only short periods of time. It means I shall probably have to start taking afternoon naps fairly soon." He sighed. "It means I shall most likely die in five to seven years at the most."

Except for several gasps of astonishment, there was silence for several seconds. "Now," Dumbledore went on, "because of that, I wish to announce now that I shall be retiring as headmaster in two years, that is, in June, 1999. Hopefully, by then Riddle will be taken care of and I can devote what is left of my life to giving Harry and his two companions here more training, if they desire it."

Many of the people in the room were too upset about Dumbledore's condition to think of anything else. Luna and Hermione were not in that group. Luna looked at Harry sadly, knowing that Harry already had this knowledge, and was still struggling to deal with it.

Hermione, however, had other concerns. "And what of Harry, headmaster?"

"Harry was not in the center of the circle, as I had to be," Dumbledore said. "Had he not interfered as he did, I would likely have died at that moment. Had he entered the circle with me, we both likely would have at best seven to ten years each."

Hermione gave a small sigh of relief.

"I'm fine," Harry said, a bit of guilt in his voice. "I feel exactly the way I did before going into the Chamber. I've been tested rather . . . extensively, however, and it does seem as if I'm not quite as powerful as I was. I am, however, just as healthy. And, if anyone is curious. . . ." Harry pulled out his wand and cast a spell at his forehead. A faint trace of his scar appeared. "It's still with me, it's still part of me. Should Riddle transform himself in some new way, there's every chance that the scar will reappear, and so will my extra powers. I'm still a check on his power."

Harry dropped his wand, and the scar faded.

"So what about Riddle?" Snape demanded.

"Now that is a very good question," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Tom Riddle would be seventy-one. Somewhat elderly for a Muggle; early middle age for a Pure-Blood. How might Tom Riddle, who is half-Muggle, have aged had he not transformed himself? How is he currently, in terms of either his short or long-term health?" Dumbledore shrugged. "There is no way to know. Nor is there any way to know his current physical condition. My consultants do not believe he should have been truly damaged in any way, since the backlash hit me. He should have been physically weakened, perhaps severely, although that would be fairly temporary. However, having his transformations stripped away may have caused exacting psychological shock, and that may be permanent."

"So he may be truly insane?" Snape asked.

"It is possible." Dumbledore suddenly smiled. "If not, he is certainly very depressed.

Minister Bones did not find any of this amusing, although she had found large parts of it encouraging. "Obviously, we have to announce this. The question is, how do we do so? We need to let the population know that this Riddle is still out there, and still dangerous, without having everyone panic."

The meeting discussed that until dinner.

The seven teens sat in the Gryffindor common room after dinner. Tracy looked around in amazement. "I have to admit, I never thought I'd be in this room."

"Well," Harry said with a smile, "fair is fair."

"What do you mean?" Tracy asked.

"Well," Hermione repeated with a grimace and a glance at Ginny, "some of us don't come across too well in this story, but go ahead."

"My part is already out," Ginny added, "so it's alright with me."

"I have to admit, I'm impressed," Hermione said as she sat on the sofa in the common room later that night, Harry brushing her hair.

"With what in particular?" Luna asked, as she finished polishing her toenails.

"With Tracy coaxing Ron upstairs, without Ron threatening Neville when he went up to Ginny's."

"Good point," Harry said. He frowned. "Why didn't the alarms go off?"

"I turned them off," Hermione said. When Harry stopped brushing her hair, she said, "It's a secret passed from the Seventh year girl's Prefect to the Sixth at the beginning of every year, on condition that we not use it until we're in our last year."

"What?" Luna asked when Harry grimaced.

"It's just odd, thinking that my mother might have helped sneak my father up to . . . you know."

The two girls giggled at Harry's discomfort. "That's right, laugh at the hero," Harry grumbled, making them laugh all the more.

Harry looked pensive, and asked, "Can I ask you both something?"

"Of course," Hermione said, since Luna was still giggling.

"Is that . . . aura thing still present?"

The two girls looked at him, and shrugged.

"What?"

"Oh, Harry, we got used to that some time ago," Luna said.

"Actually, I don't think it's there anymore," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Still, Luna is right. It is, or was, nice, but it really had nothing to do with what made us like you, let alone love you."

"I was just wondering," Harry grumbled.

"Do you know what we were wondering?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head. "It's been a year. Did you want to visit, well, go see the Dursleys' graves?"

"Why? To prove to my self they're really dead? I know that, just like I know they're being punished. I don't see the need to visit their graves. They hated me, they abused me. I'm sorry they were killed, but I don't need to visit them."

Hermione and Luna looked at Harry. He had not spoken harshly. Still, it was clear that Harry was not ready to confront his feelings about the Dursleys. Harry spoke into the silence. "No, I don't want to see the Dursleys. If you'd like, I could come with you when you see your parents."

"I would like that," Hermione admitted. "It was nice of your mother to send that message from them."

"That was supposed to be my mother," Harry admitted. "Even Snape has never said anything bad about her."

"I can't think of anyone else we can say that about," Hermione said.

In the silence, Luna said, while wiggling her toes to dry them, "What's something fun can we talk about? We should go to sleep happy."

"How about Rose's party Saturday?" Harry suggested. School had still been in session on her eighth birthday. While Rose had had a small party, the teens were giving her a larger one, and had held back some of their presents. "What do you think should be her main present?"

"Harry, don't you think she has enough presents?" Hermione asked.

"I'm certain Harry has something special in mind," Luna responded.

Harry flushed, giving away the game. Still, he asked, "What would you think of getting her an owl?"

"Interesting," Luna commented.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Well, the Weasleys won't really retire Errol," Harry pointed out. "They told Bill and George separately at Christmas not to buy them a new owl. If Rose is old enough to take care of an owl, it's a way to help out the Weasleys and could help her feel more connected to me."

"How much care does an owl really need?" Luna asked.

"Well, in the winter, there's cleaning out the cage," Hermione pointed out.

"True," Harry agreed. "When she can keep the cage door open most of the time, she just has to keep the water bowl filled and make certain there's some food and she has to change the paper every few days."

"Let's suggest it to Mother Weasley," Luna suggested. "She would have a better idea then we on what Rose is and is not ready to handle."

"Agreed."

The three went to bed, happy.