Harry Potter and the Heart of Regenesis

Chapter Twenty-nine

Dumbledore's Confessions

"It is true, Harry," the old man nodded as he sat in his comfy old leather chair behind the big, oak desk in his office. Harry, whilst relieved more than he could have ever described being to see his beloved friend sitting across from him alive and well, was still cut to shreds to hear Dumbledore confirm what everyone had been reading. "No-one can go on for ever - and, to be honest," he smiled gently, "I don't want to. Professor McGonagall has been ready to take over from me for many years now, you know?" he chuckled. "She will make a very, very fine Headmistress of Hogwarts, of that I have no doubt at all."

Harry didn't doubt it either but that didn't mean he wanted Dumbledore to retire any more than anyone else seemed to - including Minerva McGonagall, who had arranged the meeting between Harry, Ron, Hermione and their old headmaster.

Harry tried to raise his spirits a little by saying,

"Professor, I'm just so glad you're alive..." But the old man's eyes suddenly filled with sadness again as Harry spoke.

"Alive? Yes," he nodded grimly. "I'm sorry you were unfortunate enough to witness my...my moments of weakness, Harry. I would not be alive were it not for my dear friend Fawkes." He shook his head gravely. "You do know that, don't you?"

"I had - sort of - worked it out..." he stammered.

"And, of course, we should - none of us...and that does include me - give up fighting for what is good and right. I am a foolish old thing in many ways you know - no, don't try to deny it!" he waved the gasps of protest away. "I allowed myself to believe that, once we had defeated Voldemort, the Wizarding World would not just become a better place but that it would stay that way. But men's hearts can be very dark places."

He stopped and appeared to be thinking for a very long time before continuing.

"I had let down my guard you see, Harry? And it left me wide open for an enormous attack of the melancholies when I discovered, through that horrendous attack on the 'Hog's Head Inn', just how deluded I had allowed myself to become. Even so, I should not have - and this is not to over exaggerate - disgraced myself like that in front of you and Professor Snape, Harry. So, for that at least, I must apologise whole-heartedly."

Dumbledore smiled now and the twinkle reappeared in his eyes for the first time in their meeting.

"So, Professor, you must be a phoenix animagus, yes?" Hermione ventured.

"I am what is known as a multimagus," he told them. "Multimagi are very rare. I am only the third known multimagus in the history of magic." He sounded very proud of this. "Multimagi are able to transform into several different creatures, not just one like yourselves," he nodded to Harry and Hermione. Harry found it strange that Dumbledore always referred to his magical abilities as though he still had them. He remembered him saying so many times last term 'Use your magic, Harry!'

"I wish I could," Harry groaned despondently. Ron tried to cheer up his rather dejected friend by giving him a friendly punch on the arm. Unfortunately, Ron had once more forgotten his own strength and Harry had to rub his arm hard to get some circulation back - 'that's going to bruise too, he thought!'

"Ouch!" was all he said - and with a rather forced smile.

Hermione was invigorated by the opportunity to learn something new about magic - and her eyes were ablaze she was so keen to soak up the new information.

"Multimagi!" she enthused. "Please tell us more, Professor!"

Dumbledore once again became the wise old grandfather figure as he began his lesson:

"The very first multimagus in history was a woman, Hermione. A woman in a very similar position to you, in fact." He pointed his brown, wrinkled forefinger at her to reinforce his point. "She was a Scottish witch who went by the very fine name of Magwitch Thrushspittle!" His three willing listeners laughed.

"Magwitch learned how to transform herself into a wolf because she was married to man who became a werewolf. She lived over a thousand years ago - and even witches and wizards still had many, many things to learn about what they were capable of, remember...

"When the full moon appeared her husband would become a wolf and she would join him as a she-wolf; they would leave their house and live together in the forest. Then one day, and after many happy years together, her husband died. She married again and no longer needed to become the wolf. Without him she felt no inclination to become one. But, after a few more years she found that she missed running through the woods as an animal and decided to try to become a deer. And she found that, with practice, she could. She also taught herself to become a snake, a bear - bears were quite common in parts of Scotland at that time - and, quite probably more creatures as well."

"Why is she not in the magic textbooks, then?" Ron asked, guessing that this was the sort of thing Hermione would like to know and saving her the trouble of asking.

"Ah...well...the Ministry of Magic likes to keep a few things under its hat, if you like. If multimagi were common knowledge I would not have been able to spend the better part of a year as Grindelwald's pet, would I? A big and quite vicious, I might add, Alsatian dog! I found out what we was doing, kept an eye on his plans and was able to work out how to defeat him! He didn't suspect a thing! Wartime German dog food left a lot to be desired, though!" They all laughed at the thought of that.

"I can also become a phoenix - you know that now - and that is the nearest to my 'true' animagus form, I guess; it is how I originally registered anyway - I believe the records these days are, shall we say 'ambiguous'? For good reason too, as you now know. I'll leave my other animal identities a secret for now, shall I? Leave you something to discover another time, eh? One more thing I will say, though, Harry - I once met your Uncle Vernon whilst in the form of one of them - caused him to have a very sore nose, if I remember correctly!" Dumbledore chuckled merrily to himself.

He saw the next question in Hermione's eyes himself and left it unasked.

"Very little is known about the third of us, I'm afraid. He was a Russian wizard - he may still be - we don't know if he is dead or alive, although if he is still alive he would be one of the few wizards who are even older then I am - and he was a dark wizard. When you made me aware some years ago that Viktor Krum was the 'Heir of Slytherin' I tried to find out if this wizard might have been related to Viktor - for one of the few things we know about Anatoly Brutchev is that he was a descendant of our own Salazar Slytherin.

"Slytherin lived out his last years in the Ukraine, as you may have heard before. I have often wondered if Slytherin himself was also a multimagus. I have seen stories that claimed that Salazar could transform himself into a dragon - a Norwegian Ridgeback, I believe - and there are other stories that say he could become both an erne and a snake. If those stories were true then there were probably more forms, too. Perhaps he was a fourth mutimagus," he wondered - and nodded sagely.

"Well..." he sighed as he sank down into his chair. He breathed heavily and some lights seemed to go out again. "It would seem that I have lost some the heart I would need if I were to try to carry on, I'm afraid. I am tired and I have just reminded you that I am old..." He smiled as he realised that his guests were not going to argue this point, at least; that was one of the reasons he had such high regard for them. He had always spoken to Harry, in particular, as a peer rather than 'talking down' to him; it was one of the things that had helped Harry be as 'grown up' as he had needed to be in order to achieve all the feats he had accomplished while still so young. "I have thought hard this last few weeks - deliberately so - I did not want the world to know where I was..." He stopped suddenly and looked Harry directly in the eyes.

"Sorry for doing that to you, Harry. I realised you would worry about me and I thank you for your concern - especially at a time when you were already mourning a very dear friend - and you, too, Hermione; I know you made a very concerted effort to track me down through your work - almost succeeded, too," he winked. "Aberforth was a great help to me both in finding me somewhere 'out of the way' to stay and also in keeping the wolves from my door..."

Then he put his hand to his mouth (but not enough to hide a rather cheeky grin). "Oops!" He smiled. "No offence intended." But Hermione and Ron were both laughing with Harry at the very obviously 'intended' joke.

"So, I am going to hand over the reins at Hogwarts to the next Head Teacher and spirit myself away from the front line at last. I might even begin writing my memoirs. Sweetbriar Publishing wants me to give them ten volumes, would you believe? My wrist is aching with the thought of it! Mind you, condensing my memoirs into just ten volumes might be a bigger task. When I think back over the past hundred and sixty years or so of adult life I do seem to have got myself involved in rather a lot of..." He was looking for the right word and finally settled on "...escapades. I will probably also travel a lot more...something I've always wanted to do - maybe some of those famous Muggle train rides the world has to offer. And I can spend time with Aberforth - what do you think about that - old Albus living as a Muggle?"

As he finished this sentence Professor McGonagall entered the room.

"Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore greeted her. "I think I have just about finished informing these good friends of my decision. Is there any more tea?" he asked and instantly a fully dressed house-elf arrived with a loud 'crack' and carrying another silver tea tray with four china cups and a steaming teapot. The little, female elf appeared to be very young - and could almost be described as pretty - if a house-elf could ever be described as pretty! Ron pushed himself back in his chair instinctively as though the tray were somehow going to leap at him then relaxed more when it merely replaced the identical one that had been a couple of feet in front of him for the past half an hour without him noticing.

Dumbledore poured more tea as Harry and Hermione (with a bit of help from McGonagall) gave Dumbledore a full account of Remus's funeral. This caused a lot more laughter than any of them would have imagined and Harry, for one, realised he would always now remember Remus with a smile, if not a loud guffaw! Dumbledore told the new Head that he would have loved to have danced in the aisle with her to 'Bring Me Sunshine'.

"I have written to Remus's parents, of course," he added more seriously.

Having finished pouring the tea he conjured an extra cup and held it out to the house-elf. "Here, Flibberty," he said to her. "Come and join us! Where's Gibbet?" he added and an even younger elf poked his head nervously around the study door. "Come in!" Dumbledore told him.

"All of you, help yourselves to milk and sugar," he added, largely unnecessarily as Harry and Hermione did not take sugar in tea and Ron had to ask his wife to do it for him, as he didn't want to pick up a silver teaspoon! Both elves took several spoonfuls of sugar, Gibbet actually depositing three straight into his mouth before washing it down with a mouthful of tea, to the obvious embarrassment of his sister.

"Well, Flibberty? Gibbet? Do you know who you are taking tea with today?" Dumbledore asked. Neither elf knew, and they shook their heads in unison, sloshing mouthfuls of tea around inside their heads and sounding like someone shaking a hot water bottle.

"These are three very special ex-pupils of Hogwarts. They knew your parents very well," he nodded, smiling. "And these fine elves, Hermione, were the first to be born free for a very, very long time. Thanks to you!"

The two young elves gulped and swallowed their tea rather too quickly, Gibbet giving himself a coughing fit and Flibberty managing to spit some out.

"The Mad Reformer?" she said, her eyes wide open and a huge smile on her face. "Is this THE Hermione? The one we hear about all the time from mum?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Their mother is Biddy, Hermione." Flibberty is Dobby's daughter. And Gibbet his son. Sadly, he never knew he was to be the father of twins - or a father at all for that matter." He shook his head, fondly remembering 'the little lieutenant' and his multitude of socks and hats.

"Strange thing, the gestation of house-elves, you know? You could write a book on the subject...someone probably has. Flibberty is nearly a year older than Gibbet yet they were conceived at the same time! It seems that elf foetuses communicate telepathically with the mother about when to be born. Sometimes this is as little as five months after conception, more often seven or eight and, in some cases longer. Gibbet just didn't want to come out, did you?" The little elf blushed and hid his head under a cushion. "Been shy ever since, as well, haven't you?"

And with that little Gibbet picked up the cushion and started bashing himself on the head with it, hiding all his head with the exceptions of the very tips of his enormous bat-like ears. He looked just like a smaller version of Dobby chastising himself and everyone could do little else but laugh at his antics (although Dobby would have been much more likely to have hit himself on the head with the tea tray than a cushion, of course!).

"Professor Potter." McGonagall's 'serious' voice suddenly interrupted the jollity. Harry bolted to attention as though she were still his teacher and jerked his head round to her direction. He was surprised to see she was smiling, however.

"Don't look so surprised, Harry. I want to be serious for a few moments but it is good news I have for you." Harry wondered what on earth she was about to tell him. Had they found a cure for being a squib...once more his mind wandered off someplace else - 'what was the word?' he asked himself. 'Squibbishness? Squibiddity? Squibability?'

...all of which left him completely oblivious to what McGonagall was saying...

"Well?" she said to him rather loudly thirty seconds or so later. "What do you say to that?" He hadn't a clue what she'd just said. He looked around to Ron and Hermione for help but they just had their mouths open.

"I...er...I don't know," he floundered.

"Well, I expected a bit more of a reaction than that!" she murmured impatiently. "I hoped you'd be pleased!"

"Er..." 'HELP!!!' he thought. "I...am pleased. Er...I'm delighted, in fact. Thank you!" He tried to force a delighted smile onto his face but was far more concerned that he'd just agreed to something utterly preposterous and it ended up more of an embarrassed grimace.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Dumbledore stood and shook Harry's hand. "What a wonderful first decision, Headmistress!" Minerva McGonagall smiled proudly as she stood up and then she left the room, ushering the two house-elves to leave with her.

When the four of them were alone again Dumbledore asked if he could speak to Hermione on her own. He told Harry and Ron they were welcome to wander around the castle even though staff generally didn't do this during the long holiday - even those who stayed 'on site' (the ones who actually had no home elsewhere - like Poppy Pomfrey, for instance) usually had to remain either in the staff quarters or in the grounds.

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

Once they were down in the corridor again Ron took Harry's shoulders and shook him quite hard. He was obviously very excited about something.

"Wow! What about that? Fantastic!"

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied. "Dobby had kids!"

"Not that you bloody pillock!" Ron said, slapping him on the back now and nearly knocking him over.

"What then?" asked Harry completely innocently. "Is it to do with what he's talking to Hermione about now?"

Ron looked at Harry, completely perplexed.

"About you, you gormless twonk! About you being the new Head of Gryffindor House!"

Now it was the turn of Harry's jaw to drop.

"What?" he squeaked, his voice suddenly a weak soprano. "I...I wasn't listening...I was wondering what the possessive pronoun - or whatever the heck piece of grammar is for being a squib..."

"Uh?" Ron looked at Harry as if his hair had just turned bright green with poppies growing in it. "What are you prattling on about?"

"I wasn't listening! To McGonagall! I was daydreaming, alright? I thought I'd just agree with what she said and...and...I was scared she'd shout at me if I admitted..."

"Oh, that's priceless! No wonder she was so underwhelmed by your reaction. I thought you were just playing it cool! Ha!" and Ron dissolved into a fit of giggles that just about made him fall over.

Harry stood stock-still and drew his lips into a straight line. Head of Gryffindor! Now she could have got her reaction. 'Wow!' was all he could think.

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

"How well do you know the Department of Mysteries, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked. They now sat opposite each other in two big, overstuffed armchairs over to the side of the study and next to Dumbledore's 'contraptions' cabinet, in which he kept all manner of weird and wonderful gadgets, most of which even Hermione could not identify, though she knew the Pensieve, of course. Atop the whole collection was his marvellous Planetarium, the gold, brass and silver planets orbiting a luminescent yellow sun. She had seen many such ornaments in the Muggle World but all the planets were on sticks and threads - these planets simply hung in space, moving in orbits like the real planets. Dumbledore saw her looking, a child-like wonderment in her eyes.

"Do you like it?" he asked, ignoring the fact she had not answered his previous question.

"Oh, sorry, Professor," she stumbled. "Y-yes, it's lovely. I've always looked at it when I've been in here before."

"Then you may take it with you when you go today, my dear girl."

Hermione did not know what to say.

"I shall have to clear a great deal of my old rubbish out of here shortly," he said, rather wistfully she thought, as his eyes glanced around the room. "I shouldn't think Aberforth will want that lot cluttering up his house while I live there, do you?"

Hermione smiled.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you very much. I'll treasure it. Really."

"You three are so formal, aren't you? Listen to you, one of the most senior Ministry of Magic officials, still calling me 'sir'. I told Harry when he came to work here to call me Albus, but he never has - and I don't think he ever will." He smiled again kindly, accepting gracefully the fact that the youngsters respected him so greatly. "As long as I have my three greatest treasures with me," he continued, "I shall be fine. Fawkes," he began to list them, "the Pensieve - I shant be much good writing my memoirs without that, will I?" he asked as he nodded at the bowl-like instrument on the shelf. "And this." He pointed at the picture montage once more with Harry's face dead centre.

"Doesn't he look young?" she smiled, noticing, probably for the first time, that Harry had changed in appearance over the last few years.

"You haven't," the old man nodded. "You were the swan we all watched grow from a not-so-ugly little duckling." Hermione had always loved the way his whole face smiled, not just his lips or even his eyes. "And now, look at you - Hermione the Unspeakable." She suddenly remembered his first question.

"Oh! Yes - the Department. I don't think anyone will ever know the whole of the Department of Mysteries. I tried cataloguing the rooms and making a map once but gave up after about three thousand rooms. And...it's the way you can only get to some of them if you visit others in a certain order beforehand that makes it even more confusing. When my map reached eight dimensions I decided to give up!"

"Yes, it is a wonderful place. In my early days, before I became a teacher I spent many, many happy years down there; getting lost and having to call for help!"

"You...you were an Unspeakable too?" she asked, sounding thrilled to have discovered this gem of information.

"I suppose I was as good as - or at least something similar, although to actually say I was actually an Unspeakable might be pushing the truth just a little bit far. I was a young and impulsive trainee auror who managed to get himself seconded to the Department of Mysteries for a fortnight and ended up staying for twelve years. I ought to tell you that several of the more - obscure, shall we say? - rooms down there are of my own design, I'm afraid.

"Now...there are many, many mysteries in the Wizarding World that should remain mysteries, as I am quite sure you realise." He took a deep breath and looked Hermione directly in the eyes. She nodded knowingly and he continued.

"One of those mysteries is called the 'Heart of Regenesis'. Have you ever heard of that?"

Hermione shook her head.

"There is a room - my extensive research has led me to believe that access to it begins not too far away from the 'Brain Room'. You know that one don't you?" Everyone knew the 'Brain Room' - a rather eerie room that was almost filled by an enormous brain - and she nodded.

"No-one has seen what is in that room for hundred...maybe a thousand years, Hermione, and how you will get to it I do not know for it is truly well hidden. There are strong charms keeping it hidden and I doubt any of even your most experienced colleagues will even have heard of it, let alone found it. For it contains something so rare and precious - and powerful - that in the wrong hands the whole world could be destroyed in seconds."

Hermione gasped but did not need to speak - Dumbledore could read the questions filling her mind through her eyes and her shocked expression.

"The 'Heart of Regenesis' is a relic of god magic, Hermione - it is a jewel that holds within itself the whole power of creation. Many believe that it was, in fact, the tool of all creation - the power of nature, of evolution - of life itself. My own belief is that it is the source of all that we call magic - held within a simple green jewel.

"Like I said, how you will find it I do not know...really, I have no idea at all," he added feeling, quite correctly, that she might have some trouble believing him. "And you may well need all of your eight dimensions and more, Hermione - but...I believe you can find it somehow.

"And I would like you to find it - very much," he added with a seriousness to his voice she had rarely heard before.

"Something I have learnt from my many years experience in this crazy old world is that when someone needs to find something like this for a good reason - and when that person wants to find it with all of their heart - then that thing will almost 'allow itself to be found' and it may even seem to draw you to it of its own accord.

"Can you guess why I would like you to find that jewel, Hermione."

She thought for only the briefest of moments then gasped her answer the instant it dawned on her.

"Harry!"

Dumbledore put his fingers to his lips and said,

"You and I may well now be two of just a small handful of people alive who know of the existence of the 'Heart of Regenesis' - let alone know what it is capable of! I need not tell you, of all people, not to discuss this with anyone you do not trust implicitly."

She nodded, almost reverently, showing her understanding and compliance.

"Good luck, Hermione.