Seventh of February, 2012. 2:00 PM.

“You know the drill,” A strange, wheezy voice sounded from behind him. Harry turned his head to the side slightly, eying the man who was standing back-to-back with him out the corner of his eyes.

The man, Joshua Matthews, which was obviously a fake name, was the American wizard Rebecca's uncle had told him about, the so-called Dark Arts specialist. He had a long white beard with equally long white hair, very similar to that of Dumbledore, which wasn't surprising as he was over one hundred and thirty years old. Unlike Dumbledore however, he had cold black eyes, completely black as in no white at all around the iris, and a scowl nearly always planted on his wrinkled face, even when he was happy, reminding Harry more of his former potions professor. His robes were made of dark green silk with a faint golden shimmer, another feature that set him apart from Dumbledore, preferring to stay away from bright colors unlike the headmaster. He was of average height, standing around five-ten and was very smart, probably the smartest person Harry had ever met in his life, period.

“Ten steps and then its all on, no holding back until the other are either out cold... or dead. I prefer out cold since I can't teach a dead apprentice, or as a corpse.”

“Indeed.” Harry murmured softly, though still loud enough for him to hear. They had had many duels since their first meeting, fifteen to be exact. Not surprisingly, Joshua was ahead with eight wins due to his superior knowledge of dueling and magic. Harry had done pretty well for himself, using his superior magical power to compensate. Power wasn't everything, but it definitely helped when facing a more knowledgeable opponent.

At the old man's signal, the pair slowly paced away from each other, each step bringing them closer to the start of their duel, one that would surely be very interesting to an outsider. It was rare these days to see such high paced, power charged duels against two extremely talented wizards.

As the tenth step was taken, they sprang into the fray immediately, Harry diving to his right, while Joshua, in a feat of surprising unison, sprung to his left. Whipping around in eerie harmony, wands held with firm countenances, they cast a spell nearly simultaneously.

“Reducto!” They both cast mentally, watching as the two beams of unstable, destructive magic clashed in mid-air, a large explosion rocking the very ground they were standing on violently.

Without missing a beat, Harry parried a beam of yellow light, having come soaring through the cloud of dirt that had been kicked up from the two blasting curses, Joshua taking advantage of the situation using it to cover his movements. Vanishing with an inaudible 'pop', Harry reappeared to the man's right, jabbing and twisting his wand in an obscure, jerking motion.

“Glacies Tumbus!” A large, cloud of ice-blue mist sprang from his wand, giving off an aura of frosty destruction and death as it closed in on its target, turning the grass it passed over to chilled ice.

Joshua was quick to counter, returning fire with a similar spell that manipulated its opposing element, fire. As the two spells clashed, the two wizards were already on the move, flinging minor hexes and curses at each other, perfectly weaving in and out of the others attacks. It was starting to look more like a deadly dance, each wizard trying to out do the other with their evading skills.

Slightly vexed at the others seemingly easy evading of his spells, Joshua vanished and reappeared behind the younger duelist, black lightning arching from his wand in an instant, speeding towards Harry's unprotected back. The formally raven-haired now blonde-haired man was on his knees in a flash, his left hand quickly drawing something in the upturned dirt. A flash of light filled their eyes as he slammed his left hand down on his newly created rune, a wall of dirt spearing up from the ground intercepting the black bolt of jolting magic, blowing outwards in both directions, showering the area with more upturned soil.

Waving his wand in a similar movement to that of backhanding a tennis ball with a racket, a large gust of wind blew across the battle-field, picking up the remains of his dirt wall and propelling them at the old mage who had to dive to his left to avoid being buried. Standing, Joshua had to apparate as a large transfigured elephant landed with a crash where he was previously standing, automatically reverting back to a downed tree Harry had summoned.

Appearing to the young mans left, he let off a volley of curses before vanishing again, only to reappear to the right, repeating the process. Sparks filled the area as magic pounded against the Azkaban escapee's golden shield, barely holding off the massive amount of attacks sent his way. When the last spell fizzled out against his barrier, he summoned then banished the tree he had just used before, lighting it on fire with a quick mental, “Incendio.”

Miscalculating its speed, the black eyed wizard had to throw himself out of the way with everything he had, still getting clipped by the flames as it sailed passed in a large red-orangey blur. Rolling to his feet, he spun on the spot, his wand spewing thick, black smog, obscuring his opponent's vision completely while he applied a bubble-head charm and disillusionment charm to his own self, patting down his smoking robes at the same time.

Coughing at the sudden lack of air, Harry quickly applied his own bubble-head, sighing as he had access to clear air once again. He knew this spell well, Joshua having used it before. It couldn't be swept aside by wind as it was enchanted to resist its force. It also acted as an anti-apparation barrier which stopped immediate escape. Every time the bastard used it he got banged up pretty bad, usually losing as he hadn't found an effective counter... yet.

Keeping his eyes peeled, he placed his left foot on the heel of his right, quickly removing his shoe and sock. Slowly, he pivoted around on the spot, drawing a rune with his now bare foot while waving his wand every which way, hoping to keep the elder's eyes locked on his hands and not the ground where he was slowly but surely completing his work. He was nearing completion when a beam of red light rocketed towards him. He cast a basic shield charm before countering with a spray of acid that flew into the space the stunner had come. Hearing no scream meant he had missed.

“Fuck...” He muttered, having to shield himself again when three cutting curses flew out from behind him. It was only his ability to sense the smallest variation in magic that saved him from defeat, something Rebecca had taught him as it used Occlumency to do so. If he hadn't honed that ability, he wouldn't have been able to tell the curses apart from the magical smog's signature.

Finishing his work, he was about to slam his palm down on the ancient Arabian symbol when something shot out of the ground and wrapped around his left forearm, holding it in place. Aiming his wand at the vine-like thing, he had to abandon freeing himself in order to shield three incoming spells that exploded with furious force against his blue defensive dome, sparks of various colors showering the area which looked oddly beautiful against the backdrop of smoke.

Rolling out of the way to avoid an exploding curse that obliterated his rune, he quickly transfigured the vine into a snake, sending it out into the thick smoke to try find the old bastard. He knew he was running out of time, the longer he stayed in the smoke the harder it was going to be to win. It was then that an idea formed in his head, surprising him at its simplicity.

Defending against another barrage of spells, shield bucking wildly under the strain, he quickly performed the necessary wand movements, hoping that the stupid smoke wouldn't be resistant against this as well. As he finished with an anti-clockwise semi-circle movement, a fine yellow mist started seeping from the tip of his wand, sparkling strangely. The Anti-Gravity mist was appropriately named and quickly did its job, the smoke elevating and clearing the battle field.

“Crucio!” His mentor's voice sounded to his left, the unforgivable curse lancing at him at incredible speeds, disillusionment no longer active. Harry flung himself to the side with all his might, only narrowly escaping pain and returned with a simple stunner that was deflected easily. Rolling to his feet, the blonde started firing the simplest of spells at a rapid pace as he moved, never staying in one spot. The overwhelming barrage of offensive magic distracted the elder from Harry's true intentions which made them selves known in the form on a searing pain in his ankle as a decent amount of venom was injected into his bloodstream.

“What the!?” Joshua shouted, startled, his eyes automatically gazing down towards the ground at Harry's previously conjured snake, a mistake he knew would be his downfall. Seconds later an invisible force tore through a battered shield and crashed into the side of his head, hurling the old mage through the air only to come crashing down in a heap twenty meters away, down for the count.

Harry sighed tiredly and wiped the sweat from his brow, smirking slightly at his conjured snake. It had as much of its body off the ground as possible and was jiggling from side to side, as though it were dancing. Chuckling at its antics, he flicked his wand and vanished the creature before strolling towards his downed teacher.

“Enervate.” He muttered, his wand pointed at the unconscious man. Joshua's eyes opened slowly, a groan escaping as he sat up, rubbing his bruised temple. Luckily, after a conjured snake is removed, anything left behind by the creature is removed as well, in this case, the venom.

“You could have put me down a lot softer, you know.” He said wearily, searching for his wand before getting to his feet. He swayed for a few seconds before stabilizing. By the watering of his eyes, Harry could tell he had got him a lot harder than he expected.

“I know, but that black smog of yours is irritating. I had to release some pent up frustration.” Harry answered with mirth. “So, are you going to teach me how to counter that spell, yet?” Joshua nodded as he cast a spell to reduce the swelling of his purple battle wound.

“Yes, yes, I'll teach you the counter.” The elder motioned for Harry to follow him as he started walking towards a small hut in the distance. “As you know, there are many spells in the dark branch of magic that need specific counters. It's why so-called Dark Lords like to use them. Of course, power is a big reason, but the difficulty in combating the more dangerous spells is always appealing.” Harry nodded as the man talked, knowing not to interrupt when he started on a lecture. “There are always more ways than one to combat a spell, but you'll find you will have to think hard to come up with them. Using that anti-gravity mist was pure genius by the way,” He complemented. “I didn't see that coming to be honest. Taking away force instead of applying it... in any event, the more powerful spells in this branch normally focus on certain aspects, whether is disabling magic by disrupting a wizards flow with their own magic or making a heart implode by shutting certain arteries. They are woven in such a way that only a spell that is designed for breaking up that specific woven sequence of magic will work against them.

“Most magic taught in schools can be countered with the simplest of shield charms because those shields were designed to deflect certain parts of magic that all appear in those simple pieces of spellwork. Stunners, Tripping Hexes, Dancing Jinxes... they all use the victims magic against them, manipulating it to the will of the caster which was focused into the spells they cast. Do you understand?”

“Indeed.” Harry answered.

“The shields target the woven 'command' of the spell, in this case, manipulating the victims magic to either knock them out or making them dance the tango, and reflects it. It only stands to reason that the more complicated the spell gets, the harder it is to counter without a spell designed for just that task. It's one of the things that make the unforgivable curses feared since there was never a counter created to combat them at the time they came about. Without the creator's knowledge of how he made the spells, it's nearly impossible to create one unless you can examine the magic closely. As you know, it's impossible to examine two of those spells due to their special effects, though they have made progress with the Imperius.

“Now, as for that smog I used...

-x-X-x-

Tenth of March, 2012. 6:45 PM.

Dumbledore surveyed the room with his eyes, briefly lingering on the faces of the people he had grown close to after all these years. He was currently at number twelve Grimmuald Place, one of the few magical safe houses outside of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade that hadn't been compromised. The Order was gathering on his command, to hear something that he knew they wouldn't want to hear.

As the last member entered the magically enlarged basement kitchen, the powerful mage rose to his feet, the quiet chatter that had been filling the room disappearing quickly. Their leader was about to speak, and that's just something you don't delay.

“Welcome,” He started, his voice powerful. The hundred or so people all nodded back politely. “I have called you all here today for a few reasons, I have good news and bad news. I will get to the bad news shortly,” He paused to let what he said sink in a little before continuing. “But first, the good news. As you know, last night we conducted several raids along with Ministry Aurors on places suspected of housing Death Eaters. They were all successful.” A small cheer went around from the members that hadn't known the outcome. “We have several of Voldemort's most trusted Death Eaters in custody, among them, Igor Karkaroff.”

“What?” Kingsley shouted, the black Auror captain shooting to his feet. The look on his face was mirrored by many others. “But he betrayed the Dark Lord, didn't he? He sold out his fellow Death Eaters after his first fall!”

“It would seem that he was a lot more loyal than we first thought,” Dumbledore answered calmly. “Voldemort is hardly forgiving. I feel that what happened was that Karkaroff was given permission to rat out his colleagues if anything were to happen, ensuring that he would stay out of prison. What for, I haven't a clue, but you know that he is the Headmaster of Durmstrang. It is possible he was recruiting from inside the walls of the school for the Dark Lord, a very valuable resource that he would not want to lose.”

“But he wasn't Headmaster when he was convicted,” Another spoke up, a man in his late sixties with short silver-grey hair with a harsh looking face, successfully cutting off the chatter that had started to overcome the room. They all wanted to hear their leaders answer. “He didn't become Headmaster until after.”

“That is correct, Johnson. The only conclusion I have been able to come to is that the Dark Lord was setting him up for the roll long before he ever got the job.” The chatter started anew as they conversed with their neighbors. Dumbledore was content to let them talk. He wasn't looking forward to telling them the bad news, especially the Weasley's. It concerned their youngest.

Postponing it a little longer, he told them the rest of the good news. “Now, I'm sure you all now about the trouble that's been brewing in Asia for some time now? It looks like Voldemort isn't impressed by this Dark Empress for whatever reason and has been hindering her progress greatly. I have had multiple reports mention Death Eaters fighting against her followers.”

A woman in her late seventies raised her hand. Dumbledore nodded for her to speak. “Do you know why he would bother with her? It really doesn't make any sense to fight 'two' wars at the same time.”

“I agree, and I haven't the faintest clue. However, the Dark Lord never does anything without purpose. Whatever it is, it's important.” Dumbledore said firmly.

“Do you know why there has been nothing in the papers?” A balding man asked. “I've been keeping an eye on her movements through the press but the Death Eaters haven't been mentioned at all.”

“It's really quite simple. All this fighting as been going on behind the scenes and the only reason I know of it is because of spies. He doesn't attack outright, but strategically.” Like usual, talking filled the room as he finished, discussing the newest piece of information they had been given. He let them talk once more for as long as it would last, but all things come to an end.

Minutes later, the room was quieting down and Dumbledore took this as his cue to continue on. “The Death Eaters captured in the raids will be interrogated then transferred to Iceland, as normal. Now, the bad news...” The saddened look on his face told the rest that whatever it was, it was definitely not good. “As you know, Ginny Weasley has been missing for just over four months now... her body was found last night during one of the raids.” He closed his eyes when he heard Molly sob, her anguish being felt by all.

“How...” Arthur started, wavering slightly before finally getting out, “How was she killed?”

Dumbledore looked reluctant to answer, but knew they deserved to know. “She was tortured to death and a message was being... left on her body when we attacked, a message written in parseltongue.”

“Who did it!?” Bill suddenly roared in anger, causing people to jump as his eyes glinted with rage. Fred, George and Ron looked like they were going to explode as Arthur comforted his wife the best he could who was sobbing on his shoulder. Hermione was trying her best to keep Ron from flying into a rage.

“The one who was in the middle of completing the message was a man named Carlos Mendez, a Mexican wizard that is wanted in nine countries for various crimes, a parseltongue... the only other person found at that particular safe house was Walden Macnair.”

“Where is he?” The eldest Weasley boy growled. “I want him!”

“And what would you do with him once you have him?” Dumbledore asked, though he knew the answer.

“An eye for an eye, right?” The ginger haired man spat. Dumbledore frowned harshly, remembering a trial from so long ago, those exact same words spoken that day.

“Is that so?” He boomed, causing many of those gathered to flinch, staring at him wide-eyed. It was a rare sight to ever see him raise his voice, especially in anger. “Is that what you think? That you can torture him because of what he did to your sister?”

“Why not?” Bill challenged, his voice wavering only a second at the anger Dumbledore was radiating.

“Have you forgotten already? A sixteen year old boy was sentenced to life imprisonment for thinking the exact same thing.” Bill's eyes widened in horror, his brothers adopting similar looks at their sudden comprehension. “I'm sure you remember his name, hmm? He had more right than anyone to do what he did, but it didn't make it right! We are not lowering ourselves to their level!” Dumbledore calmed quickly. “Torture is only used in the most extreme cases, and it is preformed by professionals, not revenge seeking brothers...”

Bill slowly lowered himself into his chair. “I'm... sorry.”

“Don't be,” Dumbledore answered. “It's perfectly understandable that you want payback, but in these times we must keep a focused mind. Now, unfortunately, this isn't all of the bad news.”

“There's more?” Minerva McGonagall asked in a tired voice, the backs of her hands rubbing at her eyes.

“There is. I can not speak parseltongue, but I can read its written form. The message left was not complete but from what I translated, it seems Voldemort knows about the Philosopher's Stone.”

The silence that enveloped the room was deafening.

-x-X-x-

Fourth of January, 2013. 12:30 PM.

Harry sighed nervously as he sat down in the middle of the ritual chamber surrounded by a variety of candles, cross-legged, his torso bare of a shirt, his skin covered in odd inky black-red tattoos that started at his waist and ended on the skin of his eyelids. His current mentor was standing before him, explaining a few of the last minute details of what they were about to undertake as Harry slowly locked his wrists in some steel shackles.

The ritual was fairly simple, but extremely painful.  So painful that many people had died trying to accomplish what they were about to try. Fortunately, one of its survivors was his mentor, giving them a little first hand knowledge on it.

False Mage Sight, or 'Eternal Darkness' as some people liked to label it because of its major symptom, was a ritual that altered a persons eyes, giving them as the name suggests, a rip off version of mage sight, the ability to see the workings of magic with ones eyes. It was no where near as effective and powerful as the real thing, but he had seen the old man's eyes in action and knew they were a very useful tool. It allowed him to study magic at a level where only those with the real ability where previously able to venture, and it also allowed him to see perfectly in almost any conditions, rain, sleet or snow... night.

The draw backs were few, but they were there. For one, his eyes would become completely black, including the cornea, and no amount of glamour's could hide them, the magic way to potent. He would also be unable to switch the mage sight 'off', something that he was told would give him killer headaches for the first few months until his brain adapted. He could, however, lessen the magic focused in his eyes, thereby lessening the eyes effectiveness and return his sight to that of cat, or some other nighttime creature. He would no longer be able to see magic auras like this.

Harry was starting to think Voldemort went through something similar, remembering the unnatural red the Dark Lord's eyes were colored.

“Are you ready?” Joshua asked softly, his wrinkled hands holding a bowl of strange black liquid. Magic was rolling off the potion in waves, it was so potent.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” He answered, taking a deep breath before tilting his head back, peeling back his eyelids with his fingers after removing his contacts. The old mage stared at his odd colored eyes before dipping an eyedropper in the potion and sucking up a good amount before placing four drops in his left eye, repeating the process with his right. It felt like his eyes were on fire as the potion wormed its way around and under his eyelids, following the optical nerve and entering his brain with a jolt.

With a cry of pain, he was on his back, thrashing around in agony, attempting to claw at his eyes but unable too as the shackles chain suddenly shrunk, no longer allowing him as much movement as before, pinning his arms to the floor. He was vaguely aware of his mentor chanting in Latin but he couldn't make out the words, the pain overriding his ability to think.

His eyes were throbbing as the tattoos on his body flared with light, moving along his skin like serpents towards his two now totally black orbs that were shining with an eerie light. They entered, swirling around the center for a few seconds before disappearing completely within the inky depths. He felt another jolt inside his head and howled as his magic flared around his body as it did often in times of great pain and stress. It felt like something heavy was jumping on his skull, repeatedly. The candles that were strategically positioned around the thrashing man were nearly completely melted as the flames shot out towards the roof, looking like pillars of fire.

This continued for endless minutes until just when he thought his head was going to explode from the pressure, the pain vanished in a blink of an eye, leaving Harry a panting heap on the cold floor, his face still pulled in a grimace of pain. His eyebrows were twitching violently, the balls hidden rolling around in their sockets.

His eyes snapped open in an instant as he swung his head from side to side, disoriented, marveling at the swirls of energy he could see in the walls, the basic magic repelling charms that had been set up. He tried to focus when suddenly his vision became sharper, more colors erupting before his eyes, nearly blinding him. Groaning, he tightly clamped his eyes shut as his head pounded.

“That wasn't the smartest thing to do,” Joshua commented lightly.

“No shit.” Harry croaked. His throat was dry from all the screaming he did. “What were all those colors?”

“That was the magic you released. Raw magic is the easiest to see as it's the most basic form.” He explained in his usual wheezy voice.

“I saw... swirls... on the walls...” Harry mumbled incoherently, his head swaying from side to side.

Joshua chuckled, one of the only times Harry had heard him do so without some sort of sadistic glee behind it. “Yes. You'll be seeing a lot of swirls.”

Flicking his wand to clean up the messy wax that now covered the floor, Joshua easily levitated the exhausted blonde haired man out the door and up a set of stairs. “I think it's time for you to have a rest, these next few months will be difficult on your mind.”

-x-X-x-

First of April, 2013. 10:24AM.

Beads of sweat trailed down his face as he concentrated his magic, directing it towards his eyes, which were now a mixture of white veins and black darkness, similar to that of a bolt of lightning lancing across the night sky as his magic poured into them. Everything became sharper and more defined, a few objects in the room admitting various colorful hazes, the sign of magic. Focusing harder, he drew more magic, his vision gaining greater sight, more colors appearing from out of seemingly nowhere. He watched as they swirled and danced around each other, some connected, some not, but all flowing at a steady pace.

Lifting his wand slowly, he gazed at the wood intently, finding the soft green glow comforting. The haze had small ripples running through it, signifying a different type of magic than the rest, one of a creature. He was seeing the magic radiating off the core of his wand, the feather of an Augurey, the Irish Phoenix.

Swishing and flicking, he mentally cast the levitation charm on a nearby chair, watching as the normally invisible spell flashed before his eyes in a sea of light baby blue. He studied how the magic gathered under the object, gripping it quite tightly before lifting wherever he desired, balancing it perfectly as it spun underneath like a mini tornado of energy. It was an amazing thing to see.

Canceling the spell, the saw the magic dissolve into nothing at the wooden piece of furniture fell, succumbing to gravity and crashing against the hard floorboards.

Sighing tiredly, Harry rested back in the plushy navy-blue armchair he was nestled in, his now totally dark eyes fluttering closed, the veins having vanished after powering down. Strider, who was resting in the sun on a window seat a few meters away, lifted its head up to look at his master before settling down again, tongue tasting the air lethargically.

The headaches had been reducing slowly over the weeks, until there was hardly even a dull ache while he wasn't stressing his new ability. He had come far in understanding the different aura colors and patterns, but he still had much to learn, so very much to learn that it made him tired just thinking about it.

Their duels had resumed, with Harry getting thrashed in every single one, unsurprisingly. Joshua knew ways to beat him using his new gift against him, and was teaching Harry to try and overcome the obvious flaws, turning them into strengths that could be used. It was hard, but he was slowly getting the hang of it, and he knew when it was all said and done he would have a very nice advantage over others.

His new ability also gave him an unexpected help in his Runic Magic. He could now see the magic flowing inline with the symbols, and had already been able to decipher what effected which and how the different flows actually effected the outcome, something he knew before but only because of study. Seeing it in action was a whole different thing, and gave him a new understanding. He realized that one day, it was quite possible to create an own set specific to himself, which would be quite a feat.

Now, however, he had to keep training his eyes. They weren't perfect yet, and that's what he needed. No rest for the weary.

-x-X-x-

Authors Notes: You guys are probably wondering, “Holy shit! I can't believe he just updated!” which is totally reasonable. Sorry about the long wait, I just became far too lazy, and when I did finally get my ass into gear, I wrote two one-shots, another chapter for my Pyromaniac Harry story, and then finally onto the long awaited update to this.

I am not giving up on this story, not if I can help it. I hate leaving shit undone. And to think, I wrote this chapter in pretty much four days. Well, most of it anyway, the start had been sitting around for awhile just waiting to be added too. Not sure when I'll update next. I'll probably finish off the last chapter of 'Burn' before getting back onto this. Hopefully it won't be as long as last time.

Now, for the new spell you readers saw.

Glacies Tumbus - A spell created by madeyemoody over on 'DarkLordPotter(dot)Net' that I borrowed. Credit goes to him and all that jazz. Its appearance is an icy mist that travels at a fair speed, freezing the victim within a block of ice if it connects with the chest area. If not, just freezes whatever limb it hits, inflicting frostbite if only a glancing blow.