Harry Potter and the Power Within

Chapter 4: the only one he ever feared?

Harry couldn't believe what he'd just seen. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, by all accounts the only wizard Lord Voldemort had ever feared, had just killed one of his own side. Harry didn't pause to think, to worry about the reasons Dumbledore might have had for doing this, he just knew at that moment that anybody who was against the Order was against him, and therefore was on the dark Lord's side.

He was now completely ignoring what was going on around him. What did he care if giants, dementors and death-eaters were attacking, and possibly killing his friends and helpers? Harry was concentrating only on Dumbledore. He cast the disarming spell straight at his headmaster, who blocked it without uttering a word. The spell rebounded straight back at Harry, who erected a shield, but it was pierced. Harry's wand flew up into the air, and Dumbledore summoned it.

The spell was broken. Harry was now fully aware of the battle that was being fought, and from what he could see, it didn't seem to be going all that well. The only saving grace seemed to be that Voldemort hadn't sent all his best men, and most of the Death-Eaters weren't skilled enough to perform the killing curse. There also seemed to be an endless supply of reinforcements, but all the same, Harry noticed that Arthur Weasley was down, as was somebody who looked suspiciously like Kingsley Shacklebolt. And the one man who Harry had thought could save them now seemed to be working against them.

Looking around for Ron, he spotted his best friend cowering by the corner of the back gate. The dementors seemed to have lost interest in him so Harry turned his attention back to Dumbledore, and was puzzled to see him now pointing both wands towards each other, and even more so to see a fairly familiar look of anger on his face. And Harry hadn't finished being surprised yet.

"Duplicate Incantatem!" yelled Dumbledore. Instantly the wands melted together, but without any noticeable change in size. Harry was annoyed to see that none of the Order's members seemed to want to take the headmaster on. They were trapped anyway, he thought gloomily, stuck between Dumbledore and the Death-Eaters.

Harry saw his headmaster point his wand straight at him, his face white with anger, and instinctively ducked. As Dumbledore cast a stunning spell, Harry looked up and noticed that it had taken on the same misty form as his had when he was facing the ministry wizards. He was even more intrigued to see that the red mist seemed to blend around the Order, just as Harry's had blended around himself that day.

He heard an almighty crash as the earth beneath him seemed almost to lift and he was thrown off his feet. Spinning round sharply, Harry saw that no fewer than 14 giants had been knocked out cold by Dumbledore's spell. Several trees now lay on the floor, but Harry's mind was too numb to register the fact. It seemed to him as if he must be going mad: first Dumbledore had killed a member of the Order in Mundungus Fletcher (Harry still didn't doubt that the killing curse had emanated from his headmaster's wand), and yet here he was stunning giants to help the Order (or so it seemed).

"Harry, get out of the way!"

The urgent call came from Dumbledore, and it brought Harry back to his senses. More through instinct than anything else he decided to trust his headmaster yet again and he rolled over rapidly to safety, showing the kind of reflexes he regularly used at Quiditch. Dumbledore's next stunner took out the remaining giants, and as they hit the ground the whole earth shook, just as it would have in an earthquake. It was clear that he was working on their side after all, although why he had killed Fletcher Harry couldn't begin to imagine. Doing his best to forget about this, Harry concentrated on finding Ron.

The Death-Eaters were beginning to panic. As Harry had suspected, they weren't Voldemort's finest servants, and had obviously expected the beasts they had with them to do the best part of the job. Now that it was clear they would need to fight it out, they lost their heads completely. A few of them tried a mad dash across the fields, but they were easily taken out by the Order, whilst some others attempted to apparate out, and failed miserably.

There still remained the small matter of fifty or so dementors though. Most of the Order's members present were now firing off patronuses but with scant success. Dumbledore, however, took charge once more: as he cast the patronus charm, not just one, but four corporeal patronuses erupted from the tip of his wand. Two Harry recognised as having taken the form of his very own stag patronus, the others seemed to take a shape of a bird, not too dissimilar from a phoenix.

Harry was now completely flummoxed by whatever was going on. He still had enough sense however to realise that sitting in the middle of a battlefield without a wand wasn't a very comfortable position. And the battle wasn't going as well as he had hoped. The Death-Eaters seemed to be fighting back, and Harry turned round just in time to see a jet of purple light strike Professor McGonagall straight in the chest.

'I have to get over to Ron', thought Harry, as he ducked for cover behind a rose bush. At least Dumbledore's patronuses seemed to have taken care of the dementors, meaning the headmaster was now free to take on the remaining Death-Eaters. Making his way over to the fence under which his friend was sheltering, he panicked as he saw that Ron wasn't moving. Putting his ear against the lifeless boy's mouth, he thought he could hear him still breathing. Feeling for a pulse, his heart started racing once more when he couldn't find one.

Breathing hard, Harry tried to reason himself: he had never taken any kind of a degree in first-aid, how did he expect to be able to feel a pulse, and probably a weak one at that? And Ron was breathing, wasn't he? He was probably just stunned, or maybe he had fainted. After all, the dementors had been very close. Harry could still recall his first encounters with dementors which had invariably finished up with him unconscious. But Ron had never been that badly affected by them, and Harry began to wonder whether something bad had happened to Ron recently, something bad enough to make him faint if he lived through it again.

With all the thoughts swimming around in his head, you might think that Harry wasn't concentrating at all on the battle. Far from it though; with all the practice he had gained at battling since his first year at Hogwarts he was used to letting some part of his mind wander, while the rest of it stayed focused on the battle and would alert him at the slightest sign of trouble. In other words he had developed a certain sixth sense for these things.

This goes some way to explain why one specific incantation attracted his attention despite there being tens of spells flying in all directions. Perhaps it was because it was a voice he didn't recognise, or perhaps it was because he felt that the voice had been aimed straight at his back. The fact remains that when he heard a voice shout "Stupefy" he instinctively ducked, and in doing so avoided a stunner.

Plunging his hands into Ron's robes, he pulled out his friend's wand. Cursing Dumbledore for not having given his back yet, he fired a stunner over his shoulder and jumped over the gate, leaving it as protection between him and his attacker. Harry was angered when he saw that no one seemed to have noticed his plight yet, but didn't waste time to reflect on it.

Instead, he fired off 3 quick stunners in succession at his adversary. The latter dodged them all with ease though, and Harry was beginning to realise that this wasn't a 'beginner' he was up against. Dodging down behind the fence once more, he heard Dumbledore's voice ring above all the noise.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed. "Antonin, give yourself up. You have seen for yourself that I can kill people, and believe me, I won't hesitate to kill you if you don't surrender now."

Harry looked up to Dumbledore, and saw that his expression had gone beyond anger, and become dangerous.

"Antonin, believe me: Surrender now and you might live; but if you don't drop that wand this instant, I promise you I will kill you."

All eyes were now fixed on the Death-Eater, who Harry realised with a shock must be Antonin Dolohov. He had been part of the attack on the ministry the previous summer, and Harry believed him to be behind bars, although considering the dementors had left Azkaban, it was perhaps unsurprising that most ,or for all Harry knew, all, the prisoners had escaped from wherever they were held nowadays. The thought of Lord Voldemort surrounded once more by all his faithful followers, plus it seemed some new ones, woke Harry out of his brief torpor. He turned round to see Dolohov lower his wand, and knew this battle was over.

"Stupefy!" yelled Dumbledore immediately, and the jet of red light struck Dolohov in the stomach.

It was only then that Harry saw the devastation the battle had caused: although the Dementors had been chased away, twenty giants still lay on the floor, along with 20 Death-Eaters. Several trees had fallen down, the lawn had been ripped up in many places, and the place looked in general an awful mess but that wasn't what was worrying Harry the most. No fewer than seven members of the Order were lying lifeless on the Weaslies' lawn: Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minerva McGonagall, as well as four people Harry couldn't recognise.

The person he was most concerned about though was Ron, Ron who was Harry's best friend, Ron who might be dead. He jumped over the fence and kneeled down at his friend's side. Relief swept over him as he saw the teenager stir, and finally sit up.

"Harry?" he said groggily, and then fell back down again.

Harry would have leapt with joy, had a restraining hand not been placed on his shoulder that very moment. Spinning round sharply, he saw Dumbledore leaning over him, a genuine smile on his face. The headmaster was still wearing some rather ridiculous looking purple robes, not too dissimilar to those worn by roman emperors a long time ago. Harry chuckled slightly, as they looked so out of place in the middle of a battlefield. His eyes then rested on Dumbledore's wand, which was still the size of an ordinary one.

"Uh, professor? Do you think I could have my wand back?"

"Oh, or course Harry; I had completely forgotten about that. My, I am getting rather forgetful in old age, aren't I?"

Harry didn't know quite what to make of the last comment, so said nothing.

"Ah well, no use fretting over it I suppose... Finite Incantatem!"

The wand Dumbledore had been holding suddenly disintegrated, and in its place two different wands appeared. The headmaster then produced a banishing charm Hermione would have been proud of, and Harry's wand returned to its rightful owner. Dumbledore now turned to Ron.

"Mr Weasley, I have installed a sanatorium in your Mrs Fred and George's old rooms. I believe in your state it is safer if I transport you there; Madam Pomfrey will be expecting you."

Dumbledore's eyes had regained the old twinkle, but his face remained deadly serious. Ron nodded, and Dumbledore said "Mobilicorpus" and directed Ron's body through an open window and into his house. Harry took the opportunity to look around him once more. Arthur Weasley was standing again, albeit with some difficulty. Professor McGonagall had also seemingly been hit by nothing worse than a stunning curse, and had been duly revived. She was now helping transport other injured bodies to Madam Pomfrey's quarters. Amongst those bodies Harry recognised Kingsley but to his relief saw the Auror was conscious.

"Now then, unless I am very much mistaken, we will shortly be receiving a visit from the minister, and we really can't have the place looking like this when he arrives, can we Harry?"

Dumbledore was obviously avoiding talking about Mundungus Fletcher's death, and Harry knew better than to bring the subject up, despite his urge to do so. Realisation then dawned on Harry: Fudge was coming! But how did Dumbledore know? And how was Harry meant to face Fudge when the minister had spent most of last year telling the whole world that he was an attention-seeking liar. Harry also had a whole host of other questions for his headmaster, but decided to hold them back for after the meeting with Fudge.

"Uh, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"How do you know that the em..." Harry was having trouble giving Fudge his title, which he didn't think he'd earned. Thankfully Dumbledore understood him.

"Just a guess, Harry, just a guess. Disapparatium totalla!"

A thin ray of gold light erupted from Dumbledore's wand and then divided into twenty rays, all identical in size. Each ray then went on to strike a giant, and Harry watched in astonishment as one by one the monsters all evaporated. He turned back towards Dumbledore who must have seen the bemused look on his face.

"Ah yes, that didn't come off too badly did it? It is a apparating spell, which basically means you can make others apparate by using the spell on them, although you can only use it on those who have a complete trust in you, or who don't have a brain big enough to know what's going on (like the giants). Now then, let's clear the rest of this mess up!"

Harry watched agape as Dumbledore with a mere flick of his wand caused all the trees to go back in place, the lawn to flatten out again and the fences to mend, although Mundungus's corpse remained. Once the place looked as good as new, and Dumbledore seemed satisfied, he turned back to Harry, but what he was about to say Harry would never know, for at that very moment there was a loud crack and the minister appeared, alongside two bodyguards.

Thankfully, Percy hadn't accompanied him; from what little Harry had read about in his letters, it seemed that Percy had refused to apologise to his family, stating that he was well in his right to follow Fudge and effectively betray them, and that the facts at the time supported his decision. He wasn't far away from suggesting that they were the ones who should be apologising to him. This had of course only incensed the Weaslies further, and several of his brothers were now saying that if he showed up again at there place they wouldn't hesitate to hex him proper.

Dumbledore greeted Fudge rather too warmly for Harry, who merely nodded in Fudge's direction, and didn't offer his hand for the minister to shake. The two men exchanged formal greetings, and Dumbledore was just beginning to tell Fudge about what a lovely country the South of France was when the latter spotted Fletcher's body.

"Great Scott Dumbledore, my sources told me the Death-Eaters sent weren't skilled enough to perform the killing curse!"

There was only the slightest change in Dumbledore's expression, but all of a sudden it was as if the air had gone cold.

"Do you mean to say, Cornelius, that you knew of this attack, and yet that you did not think it necessary to warn us?"

"Well, I..."

"Cornelius!" bellowed Dumbledore, his face now white with anger. "I do believe you knew Harry was going to floo over here around five o'clock today." Fudge nodded. "And yet, when you were told about the impending attack, you didn't put two and two together and realise that Harry was the target."

"Well, I..."

"I do believe I told you of Harry's importance in winning this war."

"But blast it Dumbledore," said Fudge, glancing at Harry, "he's only a boy! How is he supposed to defeat You-Know-Who? Don't you think it best we try to make peace with the Dark Lord?"

Harry's blood was boiling now: "only a boy"? "Make peace with Voldemort"? Dumbledore though still seemed perfectly calm.

"I will ignore your last suggestion Cornelius, for your own sake. But can you please tell me why you thought fit not to advise us when you knew that Harry was going to be the target of an attack."

"Dumbledore, I told you, we didn't think the Death-Eaters could perform the killing curse!"

"But he could have been captured, and what then? Cornelius, I expect your resignation first think tomorrow morning. That will be all."

Dumbledore still appeared perfectly calm, but the minister looked like he was ready to explode.

"My resignation? So you can take over the ministry? You must be mad Dumbledore! You can't just order me around like your wretched students!"

At this last comment, Dumbledore, looking dangerous once more, advanced on Fudge, who recoiled under his glare. The minister's bodyguards didn't seem too keen to interpose themselves either.

"Cornelius, I had to kill Mundungus Fletcher, and I regret doing it, but I will not regret cursing you into obliviation. That will be all Cornelius."

"You've done it now, Dumbledore, threatening a minister, not to say using an unforgivable: you could get a life-long sentence in Azkaban for that." Fudge seemed to be regaining confidence, but faltered once more when he met Dumbledore's gaze. "But maybe I've been at the ministry long enough; maybe the ministry could do with some fresh blood. Yes, you're quite right, I shall resign. Good day to you all."

And Harry, the minister's bodyguards and Professor McGonagall watched bemused as the minister disaparated without another word. The latter than rounded on Dumbledore:

"Albus, I think you owe us an explanation of sorts. Why in heaven's name did you kill Mundungus Fletcher? He was a member of the Order!"

"I killed him, Minerva, because Voldemort wanted him alive. He banked on us leaving Fletcher alone once he had been kissed. Did you notice how the dementor went straight for Fletcher, despite Mr Weasley being the nearest target? That isn't the normal behaviour for a dementor. It was obvious the dementors had been instructed to kiss Fletcher, so that the Death-Eaters could bring him back alive, or sort of, to their master. We couldn't afford for anybody to guard Mundungus when he was worse than death, so I had to kill him."

Harry was shocked to hear Dumbledore explain his actions in such a cold-blooded way, but he had to admit they made sense. He was however bursting to ask one more question.

"Professor Dumbledore, what was that duplicate thingy you used on my wand."

"Ah yes, first of all Harry I must apologise for having to disarm you, but you did rather catch me by surprise with your disarming spell I must say."

Harry looked sheepish; he was beginning to wonder how he had ever doubted Dumbledore.

"Well, you see Harry, when your disarming charm was cast straight back at you and you failed to block it, I suddenly thought I could try out a new spell. It is a spell I invented, and if I might say so, it is the best piece of inventory magic since Gerald Harrington found a way to make raspberry tea without raspberries, or perhaps even since your father, along with Sirius, made a pepperoni which they baptised "Pepperoni of Doom", and whose effects ..."

Professor McGonagall coughed ever so slightly, causing Dumbledore to become serious once more.

"But perhaps now is not the time. Anyhow, the spell I created causes two wands to not only join forces, but double the forces when they are joined. Basically I was fighting with twice as much firepower you and I would have if we fought together. This explains why you saw no less than four patronuses appear: the two stags were obviously yours, and the phoenix is my general patronus form. The misty form my stunner took I cannot yet explain, but if I were you I would ask Miss Granger for more explanations.

'Now then, I am sure Mr Weasley will be revived completely by now, so why don't you go and join him in Madam Pomfrey's lodgings, while I have a word in private with Professor McGonagall?"

Harry understood he was being dismissed, but strangely enough he didn't really mind. Skipping all the way to the newly-installed Sanatorium, he walked through the door, and was astonished to see that standing besides Ron's bed was Hermione!

"HARRY!"

The next thing Harry knew, Hermione had him in a fiercely bone-jarring hug. She soon realised though that he was puzzled.

"Is anything the matter?"

"N-no, it's just I wasn't... When did you get here?"

"About a week ago, why?"

Harry was beginning to feel uneasy about this, why did Ron tell him Hermione wasn't there yet? Were they seeing each-other? Was that why Ron had been in such a good mood when he wrote Harry's letter?

"Harry mate, what's wrong?" Ron had obviously picked up on Harry's unease.

"Why did you tell me Hermione wasn't there yet in your letter?"

"Harry, I didn't write you a letter." Ron was now looking worried, Hermione just puzzled.

"Yes you did! Hang on, I've still got it on me I think."

Harry produced the letter and handed it over to his friend. Ron studied it closely, and once he had finished reading it, he looked up at Harry with a grave expression on his face.

"I didn't write that letter!"

"But it's your handwriting!"

"I know that! But I didn't write that letter!"