Harry Potter and the Ancient Order

Chpt. 32. When A Hero is Needed

Dumbledore's eyes flickered open slowly in slight pain. He sat up slowly, apparently O.K. except for a cut above his left eye which was bleeding profusely, impairing his vision. Standing up to survey the carnage and smiling bleakly at the amazed looks on everyone's faces, his eyes finally settled on Xander's heap of a body on the floor and Alicia crying over it.

"Have we succeeded?" he asked Snape.

"Yes and no, headmaster. But unless I'm much mistaken, Mr. Majere needs attention now," Professor Snape responded.

"Yes, well, bring him up to the hospital wing. You four," he said, indicating Ron, Hermione, Cho, and Alicia, "will please accompany me with him." Dumbledore's cut was the only injury he had, and he was already sidling back into his leadership role. Nothing seemed to stop this man in an emergency. He had somehow managed to keep his cool demeanor as well. "Minerva," he continued, "kindly attend to the students and return them to their dorms. All danger has passed for the time being." Professor McGonagall didn't question Dumbledore and the rest of the staff took on the job as well.

The group had finally left earshot of the rest of the school when Dumbledore asked, "Pettigrew?"

"Secured and unconscious," answered Snape.

Was Harry hearing what he thought he was hearing? "We've got Pettigrew?" he asked loudly, barely daring to hope against hope.

"It appears so, Harry," said Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled momentarily as he was easily able to read Harry's hopeful look on his face. "All questions will be answered, but now we need haste," he continued, as Xander now was coughing up large clots of blood all over himself. Harry silently obeyed as Hermione and Cho were doing everything they could for Alicia who was positively howling at the sight, some of Xander's coughs landing on her arms.

Professor Snape had conjured a stretcher for Xander and levitated it to float quickly through the corridors. It was almost all Harry could do to keep up. Sirius was also on the stretcher, though not from injury. He was attending to Xander as best he could, but the most he was able to accomplish was holding Xander's head upright to keep him from choking on his own tongue and vomit. It was truly a painful and horrific sight to behold. Harry had sacrificed much in his life, but he wasn't sure he had ever paid this kind of price. Xander's stomach continued to purge itself of its contents, which at this point Harry thought that Xander had somehow managed to swallow his own lungs. He had very little time to breath in between bouts of sickness. When he would vomit it sounded like a basketball was trying to force itself out of his stomach. Whatever strength Xander was able to recover was lost in the extreme violence of his retching. Harry had to continually weave through the corridor to keep from treading into puddles of blood and vomit. Through it all, Dumbledore looked very sympathetically at Xander, but remained silent.

Finally they made it to the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey looked as though she might be sick herself at the sight of this awful experience. She looked frantically at Dumbledore.

"What curse is this? What does he need?" she asked hastily, remembering her duties.

Xander quietly produced a sheet of parchment from one of his hidden pockets and handed it to her. She read it silently, but looked questioningly at Dumbledore. "I've never heard of this potion. A Majere leaf? I've never heard of-"

She was cut off by the appearance of Neville. He was carrying a potted plant with his dragonhide gloves on, brandishing it as cautiously as if it were a sixty-carat diamond. Professor Snape snatched the instructions from Madame Pomfrey and busied himself at a nearby counter supplied with a cauldron, mumbling to himself all the while. The potion he was brewing according to Xander's written instructions took some time to prepare, changing from blue to green to purple, then gold and silver, finally settling on green once again. Neville set down the plant and began to clip several leafs, muttering in annoyance as some didn't please his taste.

"Hurry, Longbottom, you have forty-five seconds left," snapped Snape, glancing between the potion and his watch. Now Harry was flabbergasted. Snape and Neville working together on a potion?

"Done," said Neville wearily. With his gloves still on, he swept the clippings into his hand and dropped them into the cauldron, causing the potion to smolder gold. Snape began to ladle the potion into a goblet and handed it to Madame Pomfrey.

"Administer orally. After he swallows, use a glass stir rod to wipe some of it onto his gums," ordered Snape.

Madame Pomfrey did as told, though she had to wait a moment for Xander to stop retching. After she had finished smearing it on his gums, Xander fell back onto his pillow looking still very bad but refreshed at the same time. Madame Pomfrey didn't know what else to do, so she began to wrap him up tightly in blankets, noting his cold and clammy skin.

"No, I'll overheat, just bring me some gin," Xander croaked. His voice still hadn't fully returned, but he was at least able to communicate and was obviously no longer in danger of death. He did manage a weak "Thank You" to Neville, though most of the gratitude was expressed in his eyes. Alicia practically jumped on the bed with him, fussing over the state of his clothes.

"Get him a clean change, will you?" she snapped at Madame Pomfrey. "And a wash basin?" She began to strip off his foul clothes, oblivious to the stench and overall disgustingness. Her eyes met Xander's and everyone in the room could feel the love shared in the gaze. It was as if they were speaking through their gaze. Alicia finally finished stripping off the foul robes, though she never broke the gaze. With a weak smile, she grasped both of Xander's hands and held them to her chest.

Hermione waved her wand, setting Xander's pile of rags on fire, incinerating the stench with the flames. Cho walked around the bed, quietly slipping her hand into Harry's, tears filling her eyes. Madame Pomfrey silently returned with a brandy glass and filled it halfway with gin before handing it to Alicia, who tipped some onto Xander's lips. Alicia took the change of clothes from the house elf who appeared at her knees and dressed Xander. There was still a slightly unnerving quiet in the room. Ron was the first to break the silence.

"Sir, what the hell just happened back there?" Hermione poked Ron in the ribs for his use of language towards Dumbledore before settling herself in his arms.

"As to that, even I can't answer fully," Dumbledore began. "You see, Mr. Weasley, even I didn't expect Voldemort to attack this early. Only Xander was ready for it and thankfully acted quickly and admirably. Everyone in this room truly owes their life to him, myself being no exception. Allow me to start from the beginning. As it's said, it's a very good place to start.

"Over the summer holidays, I was busy tracing Death Eaters all the way to America when I met Xander. At the time, he was working with the American Department of Magic. Xander was their top Auror. After just a few months of service, the American President himself took notice of the fact that the magical community in the U.S. had achieved such peace not known in recent civilization. Many dark wizards apprehended, the rest too fearful of Xander to act. Naturally, the President wanted that stability for the whole country and promoted Xander to a position of such power that those in the know joked that Xander was the true president. Xander's opposition argued that so much power would corrupt him and lead to a revolution, thus resulting in a dictatorship with a teenager as their king. Xander's family is extremely loyal to him, though I doubt as loyal as Xander is to them, and that is why they feared the Majere family. What irritated his opposition was Xander's performance record. Hundreds of attacks prevented, and Xander never made a move without the President's approval though the President had given him virtual free reign. Further frustrating to them was the fact that Xander never once has killed a human, magical or no. He always gave them the chance to explain themselves."

"I needed to understand why they did things. How they justified it in their minds," said Xander hoarsely. Alicia continued to bathe Xander's face with care, as if afraid of rubbing the skin right off of his body. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but kept quiet.

"If I could understand their thinking, I thought that I could give them the ultimate justice- a second chance. The chance to prove that they truly wish to redeem themselves for their actions," Xander continued. "It worked, for a while. They became the most valuable agents. Without them, half of the success of the program wouldn't have happened. But I was outsmarted by one." Xander's voice barely whispered these last few words, and all present could sense an immense feeling of hurt and anger.

"A government building in New York City was bombed, right under Xander's nose. Not very many deaths, but it was enough to shake the public. Xander caught the responsible party in the end, but it made no difference. The American FBI took credit for the capture. To make a long political story short, Xander was cast off by the new president who never really trusted him anyway. The American Department of Magic crumbled, taking some of the blame even though Xander is a mage, not a wizard. The magical community cast him off as well. The only thing that brought Xander back in the good graces of both governing bodies was that Xander saved the President's daughter from kidnap at the hands of Voldemort this past summer."

"Voldemort went to America?" asked Harry. "Why?"

"He saw opportunity," said Dumbledore, still speaking in a neutral voice. "With the Department of Magic in shambles and with virtually no power, he thought he would have free reign. No one to stop him, all the while gain power and new supporters. What impressed the President most was the fact that Xander acted on his own, no help, no magic, nothing. It also helped that the incident went unnoticed by the public. Voldemort evaded capture himself, but his new Death Eaters didn't. He has no more followers across the ocean."

Harry was now truly impressed. Xander had single-handedly stopped Voldemort from ascending to power in America. No wonder Dumbledore trusted him so much.

"Xander's family lineage was what enabled me to bring him to Britain. Fudge would hear none of it at first and was instead insulted at the fact that I was bringing in outside help." Dumbledore shook his head at this. Fudge's close-mindedness had always frustrated Dumbledore.

"Er, lineage?" asked Ron. "What does his lineage have to do with it?"

"My grandmother was a witch from Wales," said Xander. Some of the strength had come back to his voice now. "She had some notoriety as a seer before she moved to America. She married a Muggle there. I believe that my dad is a wizard, but I don't know for sure. My grandmother, coupled with my own accomplishments are what finally convinced Fudge to concede. I was only two generations removed from Britain, so the Ministry here argued that I would be allowed to work here and even gave me citizenship."

"And Dumbledore brought you here to fight You-Know-Who," said Ron, who was now stroking Hermione's hair. The events that had passed that night had caused them all to seek refuge in those closest to them.

"Voldemort? Yes," said Xander. "Dumbledore told me about Harry, and I knew the school would be a mark. I knew that I couldn't let anyone know I'm a mage, so Dumbledore simply omitted that information at the Sorting. Everyone just assumed that I was a Muggle, so I let them run with it. As the year went on, we," at this, he indicated Professors Dumbledore and Snape, and Sirius, "formed the trap for Voldemort. Drop the security on the school, give him Dumbledore, and let me use my magic."

"You were going to sacrifice yourself?" Harry asked Dumbledore, astounded.

"If it meant that Voldemort would fall, then yes," said Dumbledore. He now looked very fragile and tired. He looked into Harry's eyes, and Harry immediately noticed the seriousness of Dumbledore's next comment. "I am getting far too old to chase Voldemort full-time, and I felt I could rest in peace in the knowledge that he fell. I don't have many years left, Harry, and couldn't rest peacefully dying with the knowledge that Voldemort was still about." Dumbledore spoke more somberly than Harry had ever heard him. Until tonight, it had never occurred to Harry that Dumbledore could one day cease to live.

"How were you able to take You-Know-Who's magic away?" asked Hermione.

Xander was sipping his gin and lit a cigarette before he turned to Hermione. "I'm quite skilled in alchemy. The potion I released from the vial, once inhaled, seeks out the magic in your blood, and blocks it. It's not very powerful, as it only lasts for five minutes or so, but effective since Voldemort's main strength lies in his magic. That's why I had you lot hold your breath. That's why Severus and Sirius weren't in the room. Once it took effect, I cast a spell to give you back your wands. The spell I cast on the Death Eaters was complex, and drained most of my energy. I knew I'd be safe since Voldemort had his magic taken from him. I needed you four to finish him."

The room had fallen into silence once again. Alicia had finished tending to Xander and now nestled her head on his shoulder, sighing complacently. Everyone was loathe to disturb them they were so comfortable lying like that, so natural. Harry looked up into Cho's eyes, trying to gauge her thoughts. She smiled at him with shimmering tears in her eyes and Harry new then and there that her feelings for him had changed forever. He still wanted to know about Pettigrew and Sirius's freedom, but Dumbledore spoke before he could ask anything.

"What I would like to know," began Dumbledore gingerly, "is how I am still breathing."

The room became, if possible, even more quiet. Harry could swear he could hear his own heart beating. Xander took a drink of gin and mashed out his cigarette before he answered.

"That," said Xander, exhaling smoke, "was a spell of my own invention. The chant I entered into was the reverse of a ritual that was once used to pass on to the next plan of existence. Some view it as a killing chant. Ancient mages believed that if your life force was taken from your body before your body died, then you could continue on in the next plane of existence as a mage, since the magic wouldn't die with your body. The practice was stopped many thousands of years ago when no evidence could be found to substantiate this belief, and the chant was forbidden to be used. Most called it murder.

"I reversed the chant and the procedure, and made changes in pronunciation where necessary." He now looked at Dumbledore. "Instead of releasing your life force, I called it back to your body. Changing the words brought the phoenix on my back to life, so that it could give life to you. Part of my life force, in fact. According to our scholars, what I did wasn't possible. It was only a theory of mine until tonight."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at this. He was, after all, and educator and pushed learning on all of his students. "I'm quite honored to have taken part in your experiment," he chuckled. His attitude helped to lighten the mood of the room, and as Xander began to laugh a little, everyone else joined in, though none harder than Dumbledore.

"So why were you in such an awful state after you cast it?" asked Alicia, whose worries about Xander's health seemed to lighten immensely. She playfully slapped Xander on the shoulder. "You had me so worried I thought I was gonna die myself."

Xander smiled. "I had cast too many spells by that point. I didn't have enough strength left to cast it and live. My own life force was spent, and my body was tearing itself apart from the inside out in an attempt to stay alive. That saved me," he added, pointing at the forgotten plant on the tabletop. The group then turned to face Neville questioningly, and Neville grinned broadly.

"Oh, he gave that to me ages ago," said Neville. "After our first Herbology class. It looked terribly sick when he showed me. Told me that I impressed him-" at this, Neville's chest swelled, making him look like an extremely proud basketball, "and that he hoped I could save his plant. Said he'd die without it. Didn't make the connection until I saw him coming to the hospital wing."

Harry was thoroughly impressed with Neville. He had never known him to take such a bold step in his life, and thought it very classy of Xander to give such an important task to someone whom most had written off as hopeless. It had obviously done wonders for his self-esteem, even enabling him to concentrate with Snape breathing down his neck.

"That's brilliant, Neville!" exclaimed Hermione as Harry and Ron clapped him on his back. Even Snape managed to crack a smile, though no one saw it. If anyone needed a compliment, it was Neville Longbottom.

"I chose the Majere Leaf," Xander said, "knowing by the name that you wouldn't forget where it came from. Forgive me for doubting your memory, but your first name does mean the 'absent-minded professor'."

"May I ask one more question?" asked Dumbledore amid the noise.

"You just did, but you may ask one more," said Xander. Harry snorted at this, as Dumbledore had once said the same thing to him. Again, nobody chuckled more heartily than Dumbledore.

"Exactly how did that plant work? I've never known a plant to have such a remarkable effect," he said.

Xander grinned. He looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and said, "Remember what I told you about mages enchanting objects?"

Harry had to think for a moment before responding, "That for a mage to enchant something, he had to use a bit of his life force."

"And how very fitting you chose the Majere plant," finished Dumbledore, who smiled even broader if possible. Coming back from certain death had quite the cheering effect on him.

"I figured Neville would find out as much about the plant as he could in his efforts to care for it. So I told him I would die if the plant didn't survive, knowing he would discover its name," said Xander. He looked at Neville now. "You've got more brains than you thought. Call it a gift but I'm a good judge of people."

Professor Dumbledore spoke up now, motioning to Professor Snape. "Come, Severus, we must assess the damage and attend to the school." They left quietly, and as soon as they were gone, Harry finally asked the question that had been burning inside him since Dumbledore woke up.

"Sirius, is it true that we've got Pettigrew?"

Ron and Hermione nearly jumped out of their chair at this, not having heard Dumbledore earlier. Sirius grinned broadly at this, and Alicia even smiled at Harry.

"Be sure to thank your friend Dobby. He bound himself to Peter so that he can't go anywhere. They're in Snape's dungeon now, and unless I'm very much mistaken, Fudge should be here by now. He can't doubt his existence now that he'll see Wormtail with his own eyes." Sirius grinned even larger, but his smile couldn't match Harry's.

"You know, Harry," began Sirius tentatively, "My offer still stands. If you still want to, once my name's cleared-"

"Absolutely!" cried Harry. "How long-"

"Not just yet, Harry," said Sirius. Even though his smile didn't fade, his voice became more somber. "Remember, everyone still thinks that Peter's dead. It takes a long time to 'bring someone back to life'. Then we have to convince the magical community that it really is him before we can even have a retrial. The retrial itself will take very long, and without your parents here, we'll still have to convince the Ministry that we switched secret-keepers. All that before my rights are restored. Dumbledore will be a huge help now that he's breathing again," he added with a grin at Xander.

"But how long," asked Harry again.

"Could be six months, could be two years," said Sirius. "Peter will still have to face charges for Remus before they get around to me."

Harry knew that it wasn't Sirius's fault, be he couldn't help it. All of his frustration came to a head. He needed to explode and didn't know why.

"Why do I always have to suffer because of Voldemort? My parents would be alive, Lupin would be alive, you'd be free, I wouldn't have six Ministry wizards and a dozen reporters jammed up my ass at any given moment. I didn't do anything to Voldemort! I was a baby! I can't even go buy shoes without someone pointing out my scar or making a fuss over me. I just want to be a normal person. Why does everything always seem to happen to me." Harry only felt worse as he went on. By this point Cho had come beside Harry and was stroking his neck and whispering soothingly into his ear.

"Harry," whispered Sirius. Harry looked up slowly, trying to focus on Sirius's eyes (his glasses having fallen off during his rant). "Nobody wants the life you live. Nobody wished it on you, nobody planned it for you. Not even Voldemort. If I could give my life to hand you a normal existence, I would. I can't." Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder to turn his body back around. "You've done more for the world at fifteen than most can do in a lifetime. Do you know how many lives you saved tonight?"

"But Voldemort's still alive," spat Harry. He now rounded on Xander. "Why did you stop me? I could have ended it tonight."

Xander shook his head. "I've told you, Harry. It would have started the cycle over again. Voldemort's spirit would have been ripped from his body, yes, but his body would have been restored within days. He would be back killing before I even left this bed." He now looked Harry dead in the eye with that deep, penetrating gaze.

"Do you honestly think that your mother gave her life so that you could murder by the age of fifteen?"

Harry now felt a full-throttle guilt trip. He had never thought of it in that light and was ashamed of the violent feelings he felt only moments before.

"You are what happens when a hero is needed, Harry," Xander continued. "You draw the best out of those around you. You give them hope. You make them believe. You lead them places where Dumbledore can't."

"Dumbledore's done far more than I ever have," said Harry to the hems of his robes.

"Dumbledore's had a full lifetime for a head start," said Xander. "You've done what Dumbledore couldn't: You gave people a break from the evil. You've made them believe that it is possible to end it. Dumbledore can take people where they want to go. You, Harry, can lead people where they need to be, but don't want to work for. That is the mark of a great leader."

Xander had a small coughing fit after talking so much, but wiped it away with a swig from his gin before continuing. "Look around you. What would you do if anyone in this room were to die by Voldemort's wand?"

Harry looked at each person around him for a long time. It was more like he could read their soul rather than their thoughts, and it was then that he fully understood. They had such faith, such trust in him. They would follow him anywhere. They would die for him without a second thought. He saw the confidence they all had in him. Nobody knew how he would succeed, only that he somehow would. Harry silently told each person that he would rather die than see them subjected to any more danger. He silently vowed that he and he alone would bear the brunt of the task for no other reason than the fact that everyone had done so much for him without ever expecting anything in return. They had given so much of themselves to Harry because they believed in him. I won't fail you, he promised each person. You won't regret putting your faith in me. Harry now felt bad about complaining the way he did, but it didn't matter any more. All that mattered was that he had the trust of those that mattered to him and he would see to it that that trust was well-placed.

Harry walked up to Xander and placed one hand on the front of his shoulder. "Never again will I be as glad that I met you than I am right now. If you ever need me, come find me."

Xander smiled. "We will all help you bear this burden, so long as it is yours to bear. By my life or my death, if I may aid you, then it will be done." He returned the embrace on Harry's shoulder, and all present placed their hand on top of Xander's nodding in agreement.

"Harry," said Sirius, "I have to go see Dumbledore. My work isn't done yet. It's my fault Voldemort got away tonight. I won't rest until this is over." Sirius gave Harry's shoulder an extra squeeze. "We'll see each other again real soon," he added, reading the look on Harry's face. Sirius bid goodbye to all present before walking out of the ward, his robes sweeping behind him.

Madame Pomfrey now brought a sleeping draught for Xander. "You're still my patient, and if I may care for you now, you must sleep," she said rather haughtily.

"Sleep," began Xander, "is something I will most assuredly do. I'll sleep for a week once I take your potion, but not just yet. The potion Severus mixed for me is still in effect and must wear out before anything else enters my body." He now looked at everyone in the room. Looking at each person almost pleadingly, he asked, "Will you all come and visit me during my coma?"

Alicia nestled even closer. "I'll never leave your side again," she purred.

Hermione and Cho grinned broadly at this, while Harry and Ron sniggered. In the end, all present promised to visit before they took their leave. Being the last to leave the room, Harry could swear he heard Xander singing to Alicia.