Chapter 11
A.N. Edited by Mindless, Jeram, Militis. Much thanks to them.
Warning: Fanboyisms and Guilty Pleasures abound.
All unapologies offered.
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Something inexplicable happened when he disapparated. It felt as if it was he who was being side-alonged instead of him taking Bianca. In another second they appeared in the middle of Diagon Alley in eyesight of Quality Quidditch. This is not where I was going!
Harry whipped his head side to side looking for an explanation of what had just happened.
“Bianca, we’ll talk later, best if we walk the rest of the way,” Harry said, tugging on his sister’s arm. She didn’t budge.
“No, Mr. Potter, I think we will be staying exactly where we are,” Bianca said in a strange voice. It made Harry’s hair rise.
“Bianca?” he asked, looking at her, unable to explain the faint smile and flat eyes on her face. Before he could figure out what was going, on her wand was under his chin pressing into his throat. “What are you doing?”
“Confused?” she asked. “I am glad to return the favor. You have had me quite perturbed Mr. Potter.”
“What the hell are you doing, Bianca?” Harry tried to shove her wand away from his neck but she pressed it deeper, making him pause in his movement. He looked down the length of the wand and his blood froze in his veins. “Why do you have the Death Stick?” he asked, recognizing the wand she was holding.
“You know too much,” Bianca said in the same strange voice it had turned to.
People were beginning to notice them, a small circle formed of onlookers. They pointed, asking each other if that was the girl who lived and the boy who lived. It became a bigger commotion when Bianca’s guards burst out of Quality Quidditch and saw them in the middle of the street. Harry caught Jamie Potter’s satisfied look from across the crowd and his heart dropped further. Behind her Kingsley and Gladys looked as confused as he felt. But Jamie Potter knew what was going on, adding to Harry’s apprehension; he never liked being in the dark.
“Bianca…” Harry said in warning, trying to nod toward the guard. He had to make sure his suspicion was right that she had fallen in with her Aunt instead of him. He had to be certain that his blood had betrayed him – again.
“Achelous!” someone shouted from behind them.
Despite having the Death Stick shoved in his neck, Harry looked back to see Narcissa pushing through the shopping witches and wizards. She was dragging someone behind her. The crowd parted for her with confused exclamations. Who is she bringing?
The Order of the Phoenix and Narcissa entered the circle at the same time. The onlookers spread a little more to give them room. Then Harry noticed who Narcissa had with her.
Her arm and neck bandaged, dark circles under her eyes, and limp hair another Bianca Potter appeared on the end of Narcissa’s hand.
The red of the disarming charm shot from Jamie Potter’s wand to Narcissa who deflected it with a blur of her own wand.
“Everyone stop!” the Bianca holding Harry at wand point commanded with such force that everyone did freeze.
“Of course,” Harry said. “How didn’t I see it? You’re unharmed. You don’t even look like you were attacked by heliopaths or survived an assassination attempt at the Ministry. And that is why you were surprised that I knew of Bianca’s special situation. She trusted you with her secret, didn’t she? But she forgot to mention she had told her brother first. Am I correct, Professor Dumbledore?”
Everyone gasped and murmurs broke out in shock.
“I’m sorry Harry, I’m sorry,” the real Bianca cried by Narcissa’s side. Narcissa had her wand pointed at Jamie Potter, her face was furious.
“You are quite clever, but not clever enough not to be caught. In your defense, it is impossible to notice Alastor Moody when he is tracking someone. We shall be going now, Mr. Potter. You will come quietly. And, Narcissa, I am very disappointed you betrayed my trust.” The fake Bianca’s eyes had turned blue, and her strange voice became more like Albus Dumbledore’s.
“My compliments on your acting,” Harry bit out. “It seemed like you really cared for me. I’m sure the skill has helped you before.”
Blue-eyed Bianca gave a self-deprecating laugh and shrug. “It is magic, dear boy. Polyjuice only allows one to take the physical form of another. But to fool you I had to become Miss Potter in body and spirit. A personality and emotional imprint from her soul allowed me to deceive you. Although, it is a tad hypocritical of you to accuse me of pretending care, when it is you who seduced Miss Potter with the pretense of brotherly love. I shall find out soon enough who you really are.”
“You’re not taking him anywhere!” Narcissa warned in a low voice. Bianca’s wand joined Narcissa’s in marking Dumbledore.
So that is how he did it. That is how he tricked me. I should have been more careful. I knew he suspected me and I expected him to sit back and wait till I was under the roof of his castle to figure me out. I am a fool.
“Bianca, drop your wand. This idiocy ends now.” Jamie Potter shifted her wand’s aim from Narcissa to her injured niece.
“You can’t hurt him,” Bianca stubbornly kept her wand aloft. “Let him go.”
“He’s not Harry, Bianca. Please,” Hestia Jones’ concerned voice joined in the stand off.
“I am. I swear on my magic and life I am Harry James Potter,” Harry said. It seemed everyone held their breath to see if magic would destroy him for swearing a falsehood. But when a minute ticked by without any deserved retribution, they had to accept that he was who he said he was.
Kingsley stepped forward, flanked by Gladys. He held up a reconciliatory hand. “Let’s stop before this situation escalates. I will need everyone to surrender their wands and come with me. I will arrest anyone who does not comply. Please, let’s do this calmly and sensibly.”
“Kingsley, that is Dumbledore you’re talking to and that is a Death Eater with my niece pointing their wands at him,” Jamie Potter shot the idea down.
“Jamie, all I see is two people who could be Bianca Potter. One of them or maybe both of them are impersonating the real Girl-who-lived. You are also holding a child who has proven his identity beyond doubt at wand point; a boy every Auror has sworn to protect. Surrender your wand. You can have your say at the Auror Offices,” Kingsley retorted with steel in his voice.
“Spare me, Kingsley. I’ve had it up to here with you Aurors making excuses for him. And that is Headmaster Dumbledore.” Jamie Potter belligerently shoved back Kingsley.
“You have not been straight with us. You did not tell us this shopping trip was a charade to capture the Boy Who Lived. I cannot in good conscience let you do whatever in Merlin’s name you’re doing,” Kingsley calmly returned, giving Jamie Potter the full brunt of his glare.
“Peace, Auror Shacklebolt. I truly am Albus Dumbledore.” The fake Bianca transformed in front of their eyes to the tall form of Albus Dumbledore in stylishly extravagant robes. His wand did not waver from Harry’s neck. “Trust me, young Mr. Potter is complicit in serious crimes. I was merely hoping that it wasn’t him but someone who had stolen his visage or possessed him. It is more distressing that it is in reality him who has violated our ancient laws.”
Harry watched Kingsley lose his ground in the face of Dumbledore revealing himself. He was thinking hard of some way to get out of the mess without people getting hurt, but it didn’t seem likely. Once the curses flew he couldn’t protect everyone he cared for there. Bianca was his first priority, Narcissa second; he had promised to protect her too. He felt some responsibility for Gladys too, on account of blackmailing her so often. Kingsley was an old friend but he had to trust that he could take care of himself.
“Stand down, Auror Shacklebolt,” a very familiar gravely voice ordered. From under an invisibility cloak Mad-Eye Moody appeared, wand pointing straight at Harry. Harry let out a small sigh at things getting more complicated.
“Belay that order, Auror,” another old bass voice called out. On the side of Narcissa and Bianca, Auror Captain Wayne Rivers pushed through the crowd. Kingsley looked caught between a rock and a hard place, as the grizzled veteran aurors stared down each other.
“Rivers, you don’t know what is happening here,” Moody said quietly. “This is Dumbledore, your friend.”
Old Wayne Rivers spat on the ground, his wand carefully pointed away from everyone. “I know a witch hunt when I see one, Moody.” Wayne nodded to Shacklebolt. “The lad is right. We’ll have to sort this out at the Ministry. Albus, be reasonable, the boy won’t give you any trouble.”
“Wayne, my old friend, I am afraid Alastor is correct. You are unaware of the circumstances,” Dumbledore replied calmly with a smile through his deep auburn beard.
“Least ways, we can do this somewhere privately. Merlin’s sake, Albus, we are in the middle of Diagon,” Wayne Rivers pitched his voice low. His gray hair brushed forward over his rough spell-damaged cloak.
Harry observed the relatively youthful form of Albus Dumbledore, and it hit him why the powerful wizard was acting out of character. “He wants this to happen here. He wants to discredit me in public, so he can keep me away from my sister, or send me to Azkaban for whatever crimes he thinks I’ve committed. Sorry, Professor, I’m not that stupid,” Harry said, and matched the blank look Dumbledore gave him. Something is going to push this over the edge.
“He said he’s Harry, why won’t you believe him?” Bianca suddenly shouted, nearly beside herself. Oddly it was Narcissa who put her hand on Bianca’s shoulder to comfort her.
“Don’t you worry, lass. I won’t let anything happen to your brother. He put his life on the line for us,” Wayne Rivers assured.
Bright flashes of camera bulbs went up around them. Harry noticed the press had arrived. There was jostling in the crowd for a front seat to the drama that was unfolding.
Moody attempted to sway Wayne Rivers again, “Rivers, you don’t know what the child can do. We have to take him and question him.”
“You think that I don’t know what he is capable of?” Wayne Rivers scoffed. “I reckon a child who survived a Killing Curse in front of my very eyes is capable of a lot, Moody. That is no grounds for suspicion. The Unspeakables have questioned him and found nothing.”
“I am afraid, Wayne old friend, that this discussion is pointless. In interest of everyone’s safety I am taking the boy to Hogwarts where he can lay our doubts to rest as he did for the Unspeakables. That is reasonable, is it not?” Dumbledore asked.
“Sounds like an ultimatum to me,” Narcissa said. “You have no legal authority over him, Dumbledore.”
Old Wayne Rivers coughed, interrupting politely. “Lady Malfoy has a point, Albus. Don’t push this.”
“I have legal authority over him,” Jamie Potter said, shooting Wayne Rivers a vapid smile. “I’m his godmother. I will be taking him with me. It is high time he joined the family.”
Merlin’s balls, I should’ve made myself a ward of the Ministry, Harry cursed in his mind.
“No!” Narcissa immediately protested.
Wayne Rivers touched her arm lightly to restrain her. He shook his head at Jamie Potter. “It doesn’t work like that. I am an Auror. I see you threatening a child. I can’t simply let you walk away with him.”
“I will vouch for her, Wayne. She is a light witch, she wouldn’t harm a child,” Dumbledore said.
Wayne Rivers let out a frustrated sigh. “Considerin’ the circumstances, Albus, your word doesn’t mean much. Your wand on an eleven year old boy’s throat being those circumstances.”
“I have seniority, Rivers, I am ordering you to stand down.” Mad-eye Moody growled.
Wayned Rivers laughed. “Alastor, you joined two days before me. Don’t give me horseshit about seniority. We’re the same rank. A fine pair of friends you and Albus are turning out, trying to pull wool over my eyes.”
“Please, he didn’t do anything,” Bianca begged, lowering her wand, appealing to both her Aunt and Dumbledore. Around them the crowd was being questioned by reporters, more cameras were flashing.
Dumbledore has his circus, this has gone too far.
“It would be best if you let me have my way on this, old friend. You know I have the best interest of our people at heart,” Dumbledore said, sounding oddly pleased. He nodded toward the crowd.
Wayne Rivers and Harry looked around and saw the same thing. The ring of people around them had slowly been filled with the Order of the Phoenix. They stood here and there mingling, but were very alert.
“It has come to this?” Wayne Rivers asked quietly, the current of anger unmasked. Dumbledore simply inclined his head a fraction. Wayne Rivers lost, and along with him all the other Aurors besides Moody lost. “Very well, I will be following you to Hogwarts.”
“That will not be necessary. Alastor Moody will be present to represent the Aurors. Good day, Wayne–”
He knows what I’ve done. There will be no convincing him I am on the right side. This Dumbledore is not a man of reason. Harry smiled. It was a relief. He wasn’t going to play pretend anymore. There wasn’t any reason left to be a child.
“I will not be coming, as you once said, quietly,” Harry said. Oriri Atrox!
Dumbledore spelled a stunner but the red jet of light didn’t hit Harry. Where Harry had been, only his cloak floated from Dumbledore’s grip. Narcissa took the opportunity to send a blast of physical force at Jamie Potter. It pushed back Jamie, Shacklebolt, and Gladys.
Dumbledore leveled his wand at Narcissa, thunder rolled, white lightning shot from his wand like a serpent. It met a silver shield with the device of Gryffindor on it. Thunder died, silence pervaded like a force. It was so oppressive it cooled the magical battle.
The onlookers were frozen in caricatures of fear and shock. They had instinctively fallen back and now stared at the unbelievable sight.
An eleven year old boy faced the most powerful wizard of their age from behind a silver shield.
“Narcissa, Auror Rivers, please protect my sister. Bianca stay out of the way,” Harry said with quiet authority. “It is time to settle this. You sent me to magic hating muggles, Dumbledore, and kept my family from me. I will not forgive you for this, and I won’t have the blood of your pawns on my hands. This fight is between you and me.” If he wants to win the crowd, I won’t make it easy for him. Have fun explaining abandoning an orphan to The Daily Prophet.
Harry let the shield fade and squared his shoulders, readying himself for the duel. The gathered witches and wizards scuttled back, clearing out a large enough space for the combatants.
“I know the travesty you committed. I have been granted authority and power to see you undone. You are out of time,” Dumbledore’s double entendre was not lost on Harry. He wondered, however, who it was that gave Dumbledore the job to sniff out the time traveler.
The flagstones of the alley were dirty from all its patrons in their pre-school-year spending frenzy. The sudden emptiness heightened the tension of the dozens of wizards and witches flush against the shops. They watched the short and slight boy with his wand at his side; robes of an expensive cut making him seem like a spoiled lordling. Ahead of him stood their living legend, Albus Dumbledore, towering over him in both physical and magical stature. They expected humiliation for the boy, but some rooted for the child, hoping for a good fight.
Hidden from notice stood Quirrell, possessed, with a cruel and greedy gleam in his eye; he hoped they would both end each other.
A camera flashed – And it began.
Tree roots blasted out of the stone-worked ground of the alley. They struck like a tentacled monster, slicing through rock where they fell upon Harry. The dirt encrusted limbs reached for him faster than a heart beat, but their victim could not be touched.
Harry walked with his eyes shut, feeling for the magic animating the plants to harm him. He directed the magic in the roots to fall around him instead of at him. Too many, I can’t hold this up. I need an opening.
More roots erupted from the ground tearing apart where he was standing. They flailed wildly. The air became thick with rock dust and monstrous killing roots.
Chips and shards of stone cut his skin and robes, but the murderous roots didn’t come near him. He walked in a straight line toward Dumbledore, hoping the closer he got to his adversary the less wild the roots would become, lest they harm the one who was animating them.
Suddenly the roots attacking him caught fire. He gasped at the heat from the viciously undulating inflamed whips. Dumbledore had seen through his strategy. God, there are innocents here, if I let loose my power they will - Harry didn’t get to complete his thought as his air was cut short. The fiery roots had formed a closed burning ball around him, eating away his oxygen.
Bianca had flinched away from the heat like everyone else. Terrified for her brother she watched the writhing ball of inflamed roots, praying that Harry would make it. She put her faith in Narcissa Malfoy’s words, as much as it galled her. She had told her that Harry had knowledge of the future and was very powerful because of it.
Just as suddenly the fire had appeared, intense cold gripped them all. Bianca couldn’t breathe in, her mouth opened like a guppy but there was no air. Auror Captain Wayne Rivers touched her cheek with his wand, charming an air bubble on her. She breathed in relief, and noticed the spherical tomb Dumbledore had created for Harry had lost its flames.
“Some kind of charm creating a vacuum. Thank Merlin, he let it up,” Wayne Rivers commented.
Dumbledore made a negligent motion with his wand. The roots closed in on Harry, shrinking the ball to crush him.
“My God,” Bianca screamed rushing forward.
The roots exploded, pulverized into dust. Bianca felt someone throw her down and cover her. She struggled up to see it was Narcissa Malfoy who had protected her. The dark witch had a fierce smile on her face. “Trust your brother, look!” She pointed.
Bianca allowed herself to be pulled back when she saw Harry alive. He was bleeding and his robes were torn, but he didn’t look too bad. She turned her head to see what Dumbledore was doing only to find him stunned. In another moment the great wizard made a wide waving wand movement to attack.
Harry spread his arms wide and opened his mouth. The way he looked she expected him to scream defiantly. She expected he had chosen to take whatever spell Dumbledore was casting head on without a shield. Her blood chilled, fearing Harry would die for his bravado.
She never expected that her brother was attacking. The earth quaked, shop windows shivered, something intangible hurtled at Dumbledore from her brother.
Dumbledore drew a pentacle of blue light in the air to shield himself. The unseen curse struck the pentacle; Dumbledore went down on one knee, his hand and wand out trying to hold the shield.
Sound exploded. A thousand lions roared from Harry’s throat.
Bianca slapped her hands on her ears, her eyes ached. She saw wizards and witches fall to the ground, cowering and huddling against the magical roar.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it. Make it stop!” she screamed but couldn’t even hear herself. Around her, others were crying out too, but it was as if they were mutes trying to speak in vain.
The roaring didn’t stop; it became louder, somehow entering her body and shaking her bones. Her heart skipped beats, making her feel like it was stuttering. She buried herself against the body behind her. Narcissa’s golden head came down on her shoulder holding her close. The dark witch’s ears were bleeding but instead of protecting herself she was doing like her brother had commanded, protecting Bianca instead. Bianca didn’t understand how a Death Eater could sacrifice herself so much for her, but she didn’t think for too long. Like everyone else she was trying to survive her brother’s attack on Dumbledore.
Dumbledore was on both knees now, his auburn hair and beard swayed freely behind him as the sound tore at him. The blue lit pentacle shield flared and shone but couldn’t fully stop the attack. He was holding the wand with both hands; his lips were pulled back from his teeth, giving him a maniacal desperate look that terrified Bianca in its own right.
On the other side her brother stood shaking the earth and their very souls, his face crazed with power like Dumbledore. Frayed thoughts of fear and prayer rushed through Bianca’s mind as she began to lose consciousness. Narcissa’s heavy weight on her told her protector had already succumbed and fainted.
Her brother fell to his knees too, but his eyes were focused on Dumbledore. Behind him she thought she saw the form of something appearing. Something had its claws in Harry’s shoulders and had its great maw open just like Harry’s mouth. Saliva dripped from Harry’s teeth in reflection of the creature over him. The shape took full form to show a giant ethereal griffin roaring.
The thousand lion roar coming from Harry deepened and narrowed focusing on Dumbledore. For a moment Bianca thought she was going to die but then Dumbledore’s pentacle in the air flared once and burned out. She had a glimpse of hair, skin, and clothes being torn off from Dumbledore’s form, before he was blasted off his knees. The most powerful wizard in the world was tossed to Gringotts’ white columns.
Silence fell, only punctuated by moans from those who hadn’t lost their voices screaming their throats out. Bianca tried to shake out of Narcissa’s hold to go to Harry who was panting on all fours. She saw the griffin retract its claws from Harry’s shoulders and disappear. For all that Harry didn’t seem to notice a gigantic creature had pierced him.
“Stay,” Auror River’s commanded in a constricted voice. He put a hand on Bianca’s arm. “Cursed Morgana, was that Godric’s Challenge?”
“Harry?” Bianca called, surprised to hear how hoarse her voice was. He stood, stumbling a little, and held up a hand.
“It’s not over. And yes, Captain River, that was Godric’s Challenge,” Harry said walking forward. He suddenly flinched back, but then jumped forward, and then he let out a cry and ducked. Bianca heard a clang of metal just as Harry rolled sideways.
“How do you keep surviving?” Dumbledore asked, appearing in view, walking with a limp toward Harry. Harry kept rolling, ducking, and weaving out of the way of something invisible. Bianca was shocked to see the Headmaster walking under his own power.
“Reveal yourself!” Harry ordered. Two incredibly tall, cloaked, and hooded people appeared around him, carrying wicked scythes. Bianca finally saw that it was the curved blades her brother had been dodging. “Ha!” Harry exclaimed in triumph and suddenly stopped moving.
His hand slipped inside his collar and gripped something. One scythe swung at his throat, the other at the back of his neck. Both stopped when they touched his skin, a small trickle of blood dripped over the wide arching blades and fell to the ground. Bianca remembered to breathe again as Harry bared his teeth at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore’s typically perfect robes were shredded, skin was flayed off his face and hands, and tufts of hair were missing from his head and chin. He had lost his half-moon glasses. His blue eyes were colder and angrier than she remembered in either life.
“How?” Dumbledore demanded.
“Be gone, my death does not call you,” Harry said in reply and the two grim reapers disappeared with their weapons. “How I could beat the shield created from the unbeatable wand, call off assassins conjured by the one who tamed the Elder Wand? I won’t tell you. Know this: you will not win against me in mastery of the Hallows.”
The slight smile on Dumbledore’s injured face looked sinister. “I assure you, that contest will not be necessary.” He raised his wand but Harry beat him to it.
Purple fire forked from Harry’s wand but passed right through Dumbledore’s form.
“Behind you!” Bianca cried.
Bianca thrashed like an animal in Narcissa’s grip as she watched Harry whirl around too slow to raise a shield. Dumbledore stood behind him, the spell from his wand as black as the Death Stick struck Harry in the chest. Harry stood as if petrified, cracks appeared over him and he shattered like glass. Pieces of him rained amidst Bianca’s terrorized screams.
Bianca finally escaped and fell to the ground cradling Harry’s pieces. Her face was blank in bleak desolation. The pieces of her brother felt like glass, smooth and sharp edged. With trembling hands she tried to put him back together, aligning the pieces.
“Dumbledore, what have you done?” Wayne Rivers asked in a hushed voice. He enervated Narcissa Malfoy, waking her up. The witch went straight to Bianca who was gathering Harry’s pieces with single minded intensity.
“Albus Dumbledore, you are under arrest for the murder of Harry James Potter!” Kingsley strode on the field of battle, his wand raised unwaveringly, and face twisted in anger.
“Murder?” Narcissa croaked. “No, no, he can’t be dead. He’s not dead. Bianca, Bianca!” she shook the little girl’s shoulder.
“Gentleman, gentleman, things are not as they seem.” Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh, looking sadly at the pieces of the boy strewn around him. “This was sadly necessary,” he said gravely, his face pinched in apparent sorrow. “Mr. Potter was not who you thought him to be,” he tried to placate them. “He had violated Time’s sanctity.”
Narcissa was kneeling next to Bianca when she thought she saw something. She leaned close to the pieces Bianca had gathered. There it was again!
“Bianca,” she whispered. “Look at that.”
A broken piece of Harry’s face with half his eye on it winked at them both. Bianca let out a sob, while Narcissa hid her relieved smile lest she give her master away.
In silence ornately framed mirrors rose up out of the churned up stonework of Diagon Alley’s floor. The setting sun’s rays gleamed on their carved silver surfaces. Wizards and witches quieted to watch the strange phenomena of towering mirrors flanking the sides of the alley like an inanimate honor guard.
“What magic is this?” Alastor Moody asked, spinning on his clawed foot, trying to cover all angles.
“Magic of mirrors, Mad-Eye. Oldest magic in the world,” Harry Potter answered, stepping out of the shining surface of a mirror right beside Bianca. She looked at him in stunned disbelief then leapt into his open arms.
Harry Potter stepped out of every mirror lining the Alley, until there were dozens of him encircling Dumbledore.
Bianca looked in the face of the brother holding him. “What’s going on? Is this an illusion?”
He smiled at her. “That would be telling, and Professor Dumbledore is eavesdropping.”
Mad-Eye Moody cursed. He hexed a mirror close to him, shattering it, leaving only the frame behind. The Doppelgangers smiled at him, “It wouldn’t be that easy Mad-Eye.” And then they attacked.
Lightning crashed down from the sky, the ground opened showing rows of sharp teeth, and curses flew at Dumbledore from all sides. Wayne Rivers dragged Moody away from the fray.
Bianca kept her hold tight on the brother in her arms as she watched Dumbledore and her brothers disappear into a plume of dust, ash, and smoke. Lightning crackled in and outside the cloud of volcanic like explosion. Shop windows burst out, covering the bystanders in sharp glass.
The brother holding her put up a shield to protect them. Every able bodied wizard and witch did the same with varying degrees of success. They all cowered before the cloud of shadow and electricity erupting from the magical battle between Albus Dumbledore and the many Harry Potter.
“Cease!” Bianca heard the one holding her command. Somehow his voice cut through the maelstrom.
Slowly, gradually, the dust lifted. It showed Bianca the soot covered bleeding faces of the crowd which had so eagerly stood by to watch the duel. No one looked excited anymore. They all had the look of shocked and dazed children.
From the clearing smoke she saw a version of her brother come through, cradling his arm and two deep lacerations across his chest.
“It’s ugly, you better start healing now. We are all cursed,” he told the brother holding her.
“Dumbledore?” her brother asked.
“Alive. Barely. I didn’t have the heart to kill him,” the brother cradling his arm answered. “Can you restore the mirrors?”
In a moment the broken or dust covered mirrors gleamed anew. Bianca saw the many dozen versions of her brother enter their mirrors and disappear. Each mirror took one reflection inside it and slipped into the earth, burying itself. It took her a moment to realize that whenever a version of her brother crossed into the mirror, his wounds would be transferred to the one holding him. As many versions of Harry Potter there had been, not one had escaped unscathed. Dumbledore had punished their bodies viciously.
“Harry, are you okay. You can’t take all their curses,” she asked him worriedly, wiping the blood that had appeared on his body. He felt warm to her, too warm, it was as if he was burning under her skin.
“Don’t worry, my magic will heal it. Do I feel hot to touch?” he asked.
“Y-yes.”
“It is a side effect of healing spells. Don’t worry, I’ll survive. Stand with Narcissa, I have to go finish this,” he said to her. Bianca let him go only to see him enveloped in Narcissa’s embrace. Jealousy won over confusion of why a Death Eater was hugging her brother. She saw Harry hug her back and place a kiss on her dirt streaked face.
She ignored his order to stay by Narcissa and followed him when he slid down the gouged trench where his reflections had been fighting Dumbledore. Bianca slapped her hand on her mouth to hide her horror. The most powerful man she knew was slumped against one wall of the gutted Alley, his leg was torn off above his knee. The one side of his face was charred, twisted, and he wheezed and whistled like an asthmatic. The long auburn hair was matted with blood and grime to his head and body. One eye, electric blue, still shone with power and followed Harry’s descent.
It hit her with physical force that it was her brother who had done this to the great Albus Dumbledore. The rancid smell coming from the Headmaster’s burned body only made that realization more difficult to handle.
“Stay back,” the defeater of Grindelwald commanded his Order when they tried to come to his aid. “This is indeed my fight.”
Bianca stopped a ways back, not wanting to see Dumbledore any clearer than she already could. Her brother walked on, coming to stand only five paces from the defeated wizard. From behind she finally noticed in the flames that her brother’s robes were soaked in blood and that his motions were jerky, as if he was in great pain.
“It is done, Albus Dumbledore. Do you yield?” Harry asked, with his wand at his side. Dried blood caked his lips and neck.
“They warned me about you; those who keep measure and scale of the worlds. But I did not expect this,” Dumbledore answered, ignoring his question. Harry became apprehensive; the Sirens had told them he had provoked those entities. He hadn’t thought they would speak to Dumbledore, but now he knew who had told his old mentor to hunt him.
“We both underestimated each other. Do you yield?” Harry demanded, pointing his wand at the cursed wizard. The sweet and sour smell of burned flesh and hair coming from Dumbledore repulsed him.
“I recognize your power, Harry Potter. I have felt it before, once, deep in the Department of Mysteries. Do you know of it?” Dumbledore asked.
He’s losing it, Harry thought to himself.
“Yes, I do. Yield, Dumbledore, be honorable,” Harry advised.
Dumbledore laughed quietly, his breath wheezed. “Yield? No. You see even that most terrible power of yours needs a place to exist and a time to be. In so much as that, Harry Potter, I’ve been given to command a greater power than you.”
Harry frowned. “What are you - ” Before he could finish his words Dumbledore had raised his wand and snarled something unintelligible. The strain of whatever spell he’d cast stretched his face in even more agony.
Harry raised a shield, but the hazy spell from Dumbledore’s wand did not stop. Harry sent a stunner and the red light met spreading haze midair and simply curled away from Dumbledore. He hexed and cursed, but the jets of light slowed so much it seemed there was an infinite distance between Harry and Dumbledore that the magic could not hope to cross.
Time and space? Does he actually have magic to command those? Harry thought frantically. It’s taking everything out of him, if I can just wait him out…But how much did the Keepers of the Worlds give him.
Harry backed away, only to feel as if he was trying to walk backwards in quicksand. Time slowed for him, a centimeter of movement took eternal minutes. He began to panic as the haze began to cover him. Dumbledore was pale from blood loss, and his one good eye was out of focus. He’s killing himself to end me. Harry began to see darkness at the edge of his vision. His body was becoming transparent, and was stretching out impossibly in all directions. His thoughts were too sluggish to do anything; his secret power had no direction.
“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore said, sounding as if he was forming words at his death bed. “I expel your from time and space!”
The haze coalesced into a blinding white pylon above him, striking down at him like the inevitable. At the very last moment, his sister, Bianca jumped on him to shield him.
It was too late.
The tower of light impaled them both.
And then they were no more.
Where are our heroes now?
By Earnest. D. Magogue for The Daily Prophet.
It is three months since twins-who-lived were murdered by Albus Dumbledore. In three months our best Unspeakables have been unable to find traces of their bodies. We dare not drag our criminal Chief Warlocke to court for fear that he is our last chance. When specters of the past, spoken only in hushed voices, and seen in nightmares like the Hidden Hand walk amongst us, what more can we do? Our convalescent Grand Sorcerer dares not show his face in public since he killed two children, the twain hopes of Magical Britain.
Our nation faces the choice between justice and survival. I for one will side with justice and not let fear guide me to choose a lesser tyrant over a dark lord. We must unite behind the Aurors and untie their hands. Let them arrest Albus Dumbledore, let him stand trial next to his minion Jamie Potter, who let her brother’s child be murdered without lifting her wand in his defense.
It is time to join our nation’s defenders. It is time to serve in the Department of Magical Enforcement.
Our twain hopes are in our memories. Let us honor them. Let us fight for them. In our struggle and sacrifice they will live on. And we will know where our true heroes are; in our hearts.
Epilogue:~
Clashing steel, war cries, bloody gurgles roused Harry. He looked around blearily, seeing goblins fighting each other with swords, spears, and axes. Someone was dragging him back. He lolled his head up to see Bianca’s wild eyes looking all around them. She was pulling him to safety behind trees.
“Are we in a forest?” he asked calmly.
“Harry! Shh! They might hear us,” Bianca said in a harsh whisper. “I think we’re in the middle of goblin rebellion.”
Harry sighed. “Fucking Goblins.”
And then he fell asleep, trusting his sister to take care of him.
THE END
Afterword:
I know this was out of the blue, but it also made sense to me. Dumbledore had found Harry's blood at Azkaban, he knew Harry wasn't born magical, and had spies on him in the form of unsuspecting Tonks, invisible!Jamie Potter, and Moody. Somehow, I thought the colder Dumbledore of this dimension wouldn't sit on his hands to act when he started finding out all the things Harry was up to. Plus I always hate time travel fics where there are no repercussions. And when they are, they usually are at the end of the story when everything in the AU world is resolved. The abrupt attack in the middle of all the plots intertwining felt right. Since I had foreshadowed with the Sirens warning Harry about “Those who keep scale and measure of the worlds” in an earlier chapter, I wanted them to make a strike. What better champion for the Keepers than the leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore? Oh, and don't you worry. I wouldn't have emphasized Harry's promises to Narcissa and Astoria Greengrass so much if they were out of the story. A sequel will happen when I feel like it. I have ideas, but this is a complete arc. So think of this as Catharsis, Book 1 or Arc 1.