Smoke

Smoke III Friday, July 5, 1996

John Russell stared at Dumbledore, having just been told a most amazing theory. After over a minute, he said, "Do you really think that's how Riddle survived?"

"I believe so, yes. Do you agree it's possible?" Russell was the only person Dumbledore knew whom he knew could both be trusted and who could shoot holes in a theory Dumbledore had been working on for decades, if there were any.

"No one, to my knowledge, no one has ever utilized more than one Horcrux," Russell said firmly. "To do it more than once would . . . it would destroy the humanity of the soul. . . ." Russell's eyes grew in horror and shock. "Merlin! He must have!"

"Exactly. I believe he may have done it as many as five or six times, but that is only a belief."

"He's aiming for seven parts? The magical number?"

"I believe so, but I have no evidence." Dumbledore could not get a hold of Horace Slughorn's true memory for verification. He also was uncertain, no matter the ultimate number aimed for, if Voldemort would have done the last split by now, or if he was still aiming on using Harry's murder for the spur for that last split.

"Who else knows this?" Russell demanded.

"Severus knows a little of this, and knows other portions of what is happening which you do not and need not know. No one else knows any of this."

Russell nodded, "This mysterious project Severus is working on for Riddle?"

"Amongst other things." Dumbledore hesitated. "You are a good intelligence offer, because you are, well, a snoop. True?"

"True," Russell agreed.

"What subjects did I take for my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s?"

Russell gave Dumbledore a half-smile. "You were in almost the first class to take either. You took Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies for your O.W.L. electives. You took Arithmancy, Charms, Defense, History, Potions, Runes, and Transfiguration for your N.E.W.T.s."

"And yourself?"

"I took Arithmancy, Divination, and Runes for the O.W.L.s, and Arithmancy, Charms, Defense, Divination, Potions, Runes, and Transfiguration, why?"

"I never took Divination. It has always seemed the most inexact of all magical areas of study."

"It seems as if that is a common opinion amongst Arithmancy and Transfiguration specialists," Russell said drily. Vector and McGonagall were often loud on the subject.

"True," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Still, I now regret I did not formally study the subject. It might have allowed me to feel my way forward with my instincts. I find my intuition pushing me as much as my knowledge and logic at the moment."

"Magic does bring us closer to the currents of magic and fate," Russell agreed. "I'm not asking to know the details of the Prophecy, because I am sure you know it. However, by trying to prevent it from coming true, Voldemort has sown the seeds of his own destruction. Correct?"

"That doesn't surprise you?"

Russell snorted. "I read Oedipus in the original Greek when I was twelve. The Greek and Norse Muggles, among many other cultures, believed that we have a fate, Albus. In struggling against that fate, we bring it upon us. How we struggle against it defines our character. Why would I be surprised to see such things happening in real life?"

"I suppose you would not," Dumbledore acknowledged.

"It was Riddle's fate to be tempted by the Dark Arts, but it was still his choice to pursue them. It then became his fate to be presented with someone -- Harry Potter, shall we say? -- as a possible adversary. It was his choice to make Harry his enemy. It will be Harry's choice if he wants to fight or run away from it."

"Harry will never run," Dumbledore stated.

"Then that is Harry's fate," Russell stated. "The question now is how Harry deals with his fate."

Dumbledore sighed. "I regret to say, you are correct. Now, I need to consult with you on how to break through some defenses on an object. . . ."

"You have found the Horcruxes?" Russell said excitedly.

"Harry destroyed one, when he destroyed Riddle's diary," Dumbledore said. "I have discovered one other."

"Tell me about the defenses," Russell said eagerly.

Almost three hours later, the pair took a break and had some tea. Dumbledore asked, as he handed Russell his cup, "I've always wondered, why did you not take Muggle Studies?"

Russell shrugged. "I spent every July with some Muggle relatives in Devon until I was in my twenties. Therefore, I felt no need to study them. Tell me, did you want to ask your questions about Divination now, or dance around them for a while?"

"Do you ever practice what you learned?" Dumbledore asked.

"You know perfectly well I always have Tarot cards with me, Albus." He reached into his robes and pulled out two packs of Tarot cards. One was slightly used, one was unopened.

"Muggle?" Dumbledore asked in slight surprise, pointing to the plastic wrap on the new pack.

"Of course," Russell answered. "Less chance of getting any hexed cards that way. Are you telling me you want me to predict your future?"

"Not a full spread," Dumbledore answered. "I understand from Filius and Pomona that you have made a speciality of one-to-five card predictions for others."

"The question must be very well phrased, and of course it at best predicts the most likely outcome at the moment of prediction," Russell warned. "I would say it is perhaps 85 per cent accurate. A full spread. . . ."

"Shall we try a few?" Dumbledore asked.

"Are you serious?"

"Totally."

Russell looked at Dumbledore, and decided that the Headmaster actually was serious. "Very well." Russell unwrapped the new deck and handed the pack to Dumbledore. "Remove the actual cards. Touch each one and then hand the deck to me."

Russell took the cards and shuffled them three times, then asked, "Think of your question; do not tell me and do not look me in the eye."

"Very well."

They went through the ritual of shuffle-and-cut. The card was, "The Page of Swords. Was your question about a person?"

"It was."

"The person is a loyal spy. If it was Severus, it would imply loyalty to you, since you asked the question."

"No, it was about you, and it was merely a test, not my serious question. That is about which of three paths I should take."

"Very well," Russell answered, unoffended. "Think of the first path very clearly. That will be the first card. Tell me when you have thought it through."

"I have it."

"And now the second."

After a few seconds, "I have it."

"And the third?"

"I am ready."

They went through the ritual again. "The Five of Swords; the Chariot; and the Three of Pentacles, reversed." Russell thought. His voice then changed, as he spoke with Power. "The first plan will lead to destruction and infamy. You know how you phrased the question, but the implications are your plan would fail."

"The second means triumph after adversity and pain. It is also the strongest path of the three."

"The third plan is a mediocre plan. It may succeed, but will likely not be a real success." Russell looked at Dumbledore. "Does this answer your question, or shall we throw for clarity of a path?"

"Throw," Dumbledore said in a small voice.

"It would be most accurate for the short term, say the next few weeks. Or do you wish for some other clarification?"

"For over time. . . ." Dumbledore almost whispered, but then nodded.

"There shall be five." Russell picked up the Five of Swords and the Three of Pentacles. They went through the ritual five times.

Russell laid the first card down near the Chariot. "The Knight of Swords . . . victory through pain." 'The first Horcrux,' Dumbledore thought. He was going after it that afternoon.

"The Seven of Pentacles . . . a difficult card. Someone is torn by loyalties, and must make a painful decision." 'I wonder who that might be,' Dumbledore thought. "Severus? Perhaps, but there are so many possibilities.'

"The Ace of Wands . . . either a new beginning, or a powerful young man." 'Harry,' Dumbledore agreed silently.

"The Ten of Swords, reversed. Success, which might look better at first than in the long term." 'Slughorn's return?' Dumbledore asked himself.

"The Two of Swords . . . repose before danger." 'Harry again?'

"Do you have any other questions?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. 'Is my plan likely to succeed . . . and will I survive to see it through?' he asked Fate.

"This is a three card answer," Russell intoned. They went through the ritual three times.

"The Nine of Cups. Success for you."

"The Nine of Swords. Death."

"The Three of Swords. Absence and sadness." Russell looked up. "Are there more questions?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "Maybe some other time."

"I shall only use this deck for you," Russell told his old teacher. "Please, be careful, Albus."

"As long as you are correct about the success, the rest hardly matters," Dumbledore answered.

"I was afraid of that," Russell replied.

"I shall let you know if I have destroyed a Horcrux," Dumbledore replied.

Russell saw himself out, and decided that he needed a large Scotch, even if it was time for lunch.

Dumbledore sent for Snape. It was time to have a quick talk with him.

Russell was partway up the Tower that evening when Fawkes appeared to him. That likely meant the Headmaster needed to see him quickly. Therefore, he took hold of the phoenix's tail, and they were off.

To his surprise, they went not to Dumbledore's office, but back to his own private study. "Headmaster?"

Dumbledore was huddled on a low chair. "I succeeded in destroying the Horcrux," he muttered in pain.

"One trap got you, I take it?"

"I am not the one fated to kill Riddle," Dumbledore said. "When Harry destroyed the Horcrux-diary, he was not injured. Nearly any other wizard would have been killed. I survived this one, but. . . ." He held out his right hand, supporting his forearm with his left hand.

Russell winced; the spell damage affected even his slightly jaded soul. He could only imagine the agony the Headmaster was in. "May I?" he finally asked.

Dumbledore nodded, and Russell cast a number of diagnostic spells. After five minutes, Russell said, "I can stop the damage from spreading, and, if you trust me, I can partially reverse the effects, but that's the most I can so."

"I was hoping you could do something. This is beyond medical magic, and my own skills," he admitted.

Russell used a gold knife to split the Headmaster's sleeve. The visible damage clearly went nearly half way up his forearm.

"This will take about half an hour. You'll have to endure the pain of the wrist and palm of your hand on the table. Just give me ten minutes to prepare."

"Very well," Dumbledore said in a slightly strained voice.

Russell quickly cleared off his table, which was piled high with assorted books, papers, coins and other artifacts, and other miscellany. After Russell proceeded to paw through various boxes, he told Dumbledore, "Are you ready?"

Dumbledore said nothing, but sat in a chair and laid his hand on the table. "Fingers as flat as possible," Russell urged. With a hiss of pain, Dumbledore did as instructed.

Russell placed a perfect, fairly large fossil ammonite on the table as well. It glistened in its mother-of-pearl perfection, atop a rune made of diamond dust. Using seven shades of colored chalk and diamond and ruby dust, Russell drew pentagrams, runes, and connective lines, and wrote spells and charms over the table. After over twenty minutes of work, he began a chant, interspersed with charms and spells.

Suddenly, there was a splash of darkness. Russell sank into a more comfortable chair with a sigh of relief, sweating heavily from the effort. "How do you feel?" he finally asked.

"Much better," Dumbledore said in a fairly normal, if tired, voice. "I believe the full flow of blood as returned, but the flesh still aches a bit, and tingles a great deal." He considered. "It still looks pretty bad, however."

"It should slowly improve in function over the next six weeks or so," Russell said. "The pain should recede almost entirely, although the finger tips will likely still tingle a bit, and you should have full access to your magic. It will still look fully-cursed, however. It won't be cured until Voldemort is dead."

Dumbledore nodded. "It will function. That is what is the most important thing."

"True," Russell agreed. He sat up and looked at the ammonite. It had lost all its luster, and most of its color. It would darken over time, as it absorbed the dark magic from the curse.

"A pity," Dumbledore said. "That was the prettiest ammolite I have ever seen."

"The material is sometimes called ammolite, but the genus are called the ammonites," Russell stated. "I have a number of them, all without any flaws in the crystalline structures." He stood and found a wooden box large enough to hold the fossil. He padded it with rags, and placed the shell into the box. "This should be strong enough to absorb the dark magic for six years at the least."

"I doubt it will have to last that long," Dumbledore said.

"Albus. . . ."

"Do not question me, please," Dumbledore asked.

"I won't." Russell looked at the ruined table top. A wave of his wand sanded the top layer off of it, and he vanished the sawdust, soot, and dust. "Shall I get you a restorative?"

"No," Dumbledore said. He looked Russell in the eyes. "You now know more than anyone else, save my self, of what I suspect Voldemort has done. Do not intrude into Harry's affairs directly."

"I see. Very well, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded. With his left hand, he fished out a small bit of parchment. "Do you know any informative works on Horcruxes besides these?"

Russell looked over the list of fifteen books. "I don't know of any others that have any information not better explained in fourteen of these," he finally said. "I don't know this second Tibetan one."

"There really is no other information in that book which is not found in the other Buddhist sources," Dumbledore said. "Do you own any of these?"

"I actually own all of them," Russell answered.

"Really? I am surprised."

"You knew my great-great uncle Bertie, didn't you?"

Dumbledore nodded. "He was a Ravenclaw prefect my first two years here. I must admit I lost track of him."

"His great-great uncle had gone to India with Clive, and married into an Indian family you know."

"The Patils?"

"Exactly. These Patils are related, but not descended from him. Anyway, Uncle Bertie went to work for what was then called Russell and Patil Imports. He traveled extensively in Tibet, Nepal and other parts of Asia. He lived with us in retirement until he died in 1963. He taught me a great deal, and I have his library, among others. And yes, it is well protected."

"Don't give any of these books to Miss Granger, or give her much help," Dumbledore warned.

"Why?" Russell asked bluntly.

"I worry she will overly-influence Harry," Dumbledore answered. "I believe Harry must proceed from instinct." When Russell tried to object, Dumbledore cut him off. "I am serious, John."

"As you wish," Russell agreed. 'I'll get her any information she needs, somehow,' he swore.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I think I need to rest," Dumbledore said, getting shakily to his feet.

"May I ask what the Horcrux was?" Russell asked.

Dumbledore fished a ring from his pocket. "Slytherin's ring."

"Thank you," Russell answered.