[ Albus Dumbledore ]
"Fuuuuuuh—"
I exhaled a long, weary breath as I sat heavily on my bed, stretching my arms before letting my upper body fall back with a soft thud.
I flicked my right hand, summoning my wand with a thought. With a deliberate, slow flick, the bags I had dropped on the floor moments earlier levitated in the air above me.
I twirled my wand in a half-circle before giving it a slight flick, willing my magic to spill the contents of the bags while keeping them suspended.
The first bag—a plain plastic one—contained only the chocolates, candies, and sweets I had bought from a Muggle store after leaving Diagon Alley.
The second, a dragon-hide leather pouch, held the Horcruxes I had collected today: the diary, the locket, the cup, and the ring.
Each item held a story of its acquisition, though most weren't particularly exciting. I had simply sneaked in, bypassed the wards, and taken them. That summary might undersell the difficulty for a typical wizard facing ancient enchantments, or the faint thrill of the hunt I'd felt, but it was the essential truth.
It was the ring that had presented a real problem.
I had thought I was past the point of internal conflict, that the line between Dumbledore's personality and my own had finally blurred into nothing. I was only half right. I still need to resolve some of the old Dumbledore's deepest regrets to finally feel like me. Or, more accurately, to finally believe it. I can't keep carrying these old, heavy feelings of guilt and remorse.
So here I am, watching as the ring floats before me, its dark compulsions whispering, beckoning me to wear it… and all I can think is, 'fuck this shit'…
I haven't even been awake for a week yet, and here I am, feeling conflicted, tired, and just pissed off. I've read FanFiction where people get self-inserted into different characters and just continue like it's nothing, and there might be some truth to that, but a hundred-plus years of crystal-clear memories, with feelings just as vivid, is really bothersome.
I raised my left hand slightly, making my index finger glow with a soft, golden light before I touched the ring, purging the curse upon it without affecting the Horcrux. I then plucked the stone from its setting before throwing the ring back to join its suspended siblings.
I looked at the smooth, dark, gem-like stone in my hand. I wanted to inspect it, but the urge to use it was strong. So I rotated it and called, "Ariana Dumbledore."
I felt the stone siphon my magic—a minuscule amount, about what it would cost a wizard to cast a Lumos spell—but I didn't bother with that... No, I was trying to concentrate on what the stone was doing and how it was doing it.
"Heheheheheh… hahahahahahah…!"
I suddenly burst out laughing. I felt years of pent-up grief, hope, fear, and other complicated emotions leave me as I laughed like a lunatic.
The ghostly figure in front of me was just that—a ghost-like entity. An imprint left by the deceased in the magic of the world, which the stone helps temporarily form.
This was not my sister's soul. It was an impression of her being. My sister was long dead, and I can't do anything about it…
"Albus?" a soft voice, little more than a whisper, called to me.
"Ah, sorry, sorry," I said, my voice cracking as I tried to hold back the laughter. "It's just that I can't help it. For years, I've had this false hope, this little nagging thought that told me, maybe, just maybe, the Resurrection Stone would help me find a way to revive you, or at least truly talk to you. Then there was the wise part of me that knew I was being foolish, that such a thing wasn't possible, but hope—like most feelings—is not a reasonable thing."
"Huh?" came the bewildered sound from the blond young girl in front of me, which was to be expected. I'd only figured this out when I saw what the stone was doing…
"Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it," I waved off her confusion. I looked at the teenage ghost in front of me for a few seconds, silently staring at her features: blue eyes, a youthful face, and dirty blond hair. "It was great to see you, Ariana, even if it's just like this," I said softly as I stopped my magic from feeding the stone.
Heheheh. I feel so relieved, so weightless, and yet so sad. I feel vexed, but I also feel grateful.
I laid back on my bed, taking deep breaths as I tried to reconcile the emotional roller coaster I had been on.
I didn't really need a ghost of my sister, nor would I need to talk to it, because I still haven't figured out the details of how the stone did what it did. Until I do, I am not summoning her again.
Nevertheless, I have all the information I needed for now.
"Now, let's see what to do about my Voldemort problem," I said aloud, summoning the ring first.
I willed my Bright Lord essence to help me handle the soul fragment, a slight glow enveloping my hand as it touched the ring. All of a sudden, it felt like I had touched something foul. It felt sticky and even smelled foul.
I tried to pluck it out, to see if I could purify it, mold it, change it, but it felt like the world suddenly had eyes and was watching me. A chill went down my spine. I sprang up and looked around but found nothing.
I tried again, but the feeling came back, stronger this time. Okay, I am not stupid enough to ignore a warning when I see—or in this case, feel—one.
…
"So, I can't repurpose him, huh?" I said out loud, not really expecting an answer, but I received one nonetheless. I don't know if this would qualify as receiving an answer, but the feeling of wrath directed at the Horcruxes was enough for me to understand.
The world wanted their destruction. I knew creating a Horcrux was a bad idea, and I knew it was an affront to magic, but I didn't expect the world itself to feel such active, palpable anger at Voldemort's existence.
"The poor bastard really is destined to die, huh," I chuckled.
So without further delay, I ripped the rest of the shreds from their anchors and watched as the very magic around me started accelerating their dissipation. It was a profoundly informative moment, to watch magic act on its own, and to get concrete proof that magic in our world was, in some way, sentient.
It wasn't even a new theory, as the idea of magic being somewhat sentient was one of the two most popular theories of magic, taught in Theory of Magic classes. But watching undeniable proof is a profoundly gratifying experience.
Still, it seems the world doesn't want me to get a moment for myself, as the happy feelings that accompanied a Patronus came barging into my room, prompting me to sit up and see the incoming cat Patronus.
"Albus!!! Come to the infirmary quickly. Ms. Potter is having some sort of a magical backlash…." The Patronus did not complete its sentence as I found myself instinctively Apparating into the infirmary.
I was too hasty, it seems, was my only thought as I appeared inside the aforementioned infirmary.
There I found Harriet Potter, Hermione Granger, and Cassius White laid out on medical beds, unconscious.
"Albus. You are here," Madam Pomfrey said as she spotted me.
"What happened?" I asked, observing Harriet's magic giving off bouts of uncontrollable bursts.
"We don't know. All I heard is that Harriet started screaming in pain and releasing magic, which injured her friends who were with her at the time," Madam Pomfrey informed me as I started moving towards Harriet's bed. "It was the house-elves that brought this to my attention; the kids were in an unused classroom on the third floor."
I put my hand on Harriet's scar, the familiar golden glow on my hand becoming visible, and I was suddenly aware of what was happening.
I willed myself into her mindscape and suddenly found myself in a place that looked hauntingly similar to Diagon Alley, though this one was obviously empty.
I didn't linger much as I started walking towards where I felt the sounds of fighting.
I came upon a scene that would have been a great comedy show if I didn't know the actual implications of what was happening.
Harriet Potter was atop the building of the joke shop, throwing Dungbombs and prank spells towards the Voldemort shade, who was trying his hardest to free himself from the somewhat loose chains to throw a spell.
"Girl, cease these futile attempts and come here!" I heard the shade roar as it tried harder to get rid of the chains.
A Dungbomb to the face was the reply he received.
"Hahaha!" I chuckled as I started walking towards the scene, which gained their attention.
"Dumbledore!!!" Voldemort hissed, clearly shaken. "What are you doing here? You can't be here…"
"Headmaster!!" Harriet's exclamation was the opposite; she was delighted.
"Hello, Tom," I said as I stood in front of him, making him back away a few steps—which he seemed to realize only after, making him angrier.
"Hello, Harriet. How are you?" I asked, turning my head in her direction. "That's a nice mindscape you have here."
"Headmaster, how come you're here?" she asked as she started to climb down the building.
"Well, I was informed you fainted and was asked to come and check," I told her as I returned my attention to Voldemort, or more accurately, the chains binding him.
Huh, so that's ancient magic, huh. I thought as I felt how different the magic felt from our everyday one. This one felt raw, powerful, and intense. It felt like what one might imagine a mother's love feels like: warm, kind, welcoming, but also powerful. It gave me a tingly feeling in my stomach. It was nice.
I slowly willed my magic to wrap around Voldemort and bind him further. It did.
"Come here, Harriet," I beckoned the girl, who was now standing behind me. "Go and touch those chains, please."
She looked at me in confusion, but I just smiled at her. She should at least feel her mother's love once—the kind of pure love that invoked a magical protection. That was not a small amount of love.
I watched as the girl walked cautiously towards the now heavily bound Voldemort. He was bound by so many golden ropes that he looked practically like a mummy.
The girl touched the chains and stilled. For a few seconds, she didn't even move before her shoulders started shaking, her eyes started glistening, and finally, the silent cries turned into full-on weeping.
I walked slowly towards the girl and gave her a hug as I watched the somewhat lightly orange chains start to dissipate—not fully gone, just returning to a somewhat dormant state.
I patted Harriet's shoulder and waited for a minute or two for her to calm down, which she did before she started getting embarrassed and flustered.
"Ah, I believe this is all for now, then, right?" I asked her, trying to distract her from her embarrassment.
"Y-yeah," her voice cracked a little. "But Professor, why is Voldemort inside my head?"
"Ah, that's not really a thing you should know. I had believed that I could shield you from knowing about such foul magic, but it seems fate had other plans," I sighed a little as I patted her head. "This here is a piece of Voldemort's soul, which he lost when his body was destroyed back then. It latched onto your scar and was bound by your mother's protection."
I explained and watched as her face went through various expressions and emotions. Not that I could blame her.
"Before you go and start asking questions, we still need to destroy this," I said as I tugged on my magic a little, getting the mummified Voldemort closer to us.
"But how?" she asked.
"Well, first, hold my hand," I said as I extended my right hand for her to hold. "Now, you will feel my magic going through you, so just point your wand at it and imagine whatever you want to happen to it, and it will be," I explained further as I started channeling my Bright Lord essence through her.
What I didn't expect, though, was for her to conjure a pack of lions and set them on him.
I watched with rapt attention as the lions started moving towards Voldemort, jumping him and tearing him apart.
I had expected her to set him on fire, or maybe throw some lightning at him—you know, something cool—but I did not expect that…
"Hahah," I chuckled slightly as I witnessed Voldemort being torn apart and chewed on. "Well, that's one way to do it."
"Um, uh, I didn't…" she started, getting flustered for some reason, but I cut her off. "Don't worry about it. He deserved everything he got and worse," I reassured her as I patted her shoulder.
"Well, now that this is over with, what do you say we leave this place, huh?"
"I don't know how to?" she mumbled, slightly confused.
"Haha, it's ok. You will know in a moment," I said as I started to fade out of existence, leaving her mindscape.
…
…
I raised my head as I felt my conscience in my body once more and looked at the girl, now peacefully sleeping. I lifted my hand from her forehead and saw her scar oozing black, ink-like blood.
I shook my hand, casting a small cleaning charm while also sending a wave of healing energy through the room before taking a few steps back.
"There you go," I muttered before I felt myself being shoved aside as Poppy went ahead and started casting detection spells on the girl.
I didn't bother her but went towards Hermione and cast a localized healing aura on her before moving again and doing the same for Cassius.
'I really should start coming up with some cool names for my healing. Calling them 'healing waves' and 'healing aura' sounds lame'. I thought as I turned and came face to face with Madam Pomfrey's pointed stare.
"Ah, Poppy, walk with me, would you? The kids are going to be just fine on their own, so let's head out," I said as I started moving out of the infirmary.
This might be good. I need to have a meeting with my staff to inform them about today's events and decisions.
X_
[ Harriet Potter ]
She woke up feeling refreshed, like a weight she hadn't known she was carrying was lifted. She felt light, and her magic felt powerful, more powerful than before. It also felt smoother somehow.
She didn't think much about this though as she started looking around the place.
'The infirmary, huh,' she thought as she looked around. She extended her hand and removed the curtains, which brought her face to face with Cassius and Hermione, who were sitting together on the bed next to hers.
She wondered just how she didn't hear them talking but she could guess that the curtains were enchanted with some kind of privacy charms.
"Harriet!!" Her two friends called as soon as they looked back at her. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? What happened?" They asked in concern and she felt a warm fuzzy feeling go through her stomach.
"I am fine. Headmaster said something about Voldemort's soul and stuff, but now it's all done." She tried to downplay what happened because she herself didn't know if that was all a dream.
Cassius's reaction was weird though as she noticed him freezing a little and his eyes going to her scar.
"What do you mean… tell us everything!!" Hermione jumped into her bed and shook her slightly as she looked at her with an expectant look.
"Oh, well, it happened like this…" and she went on and described everything that happened, not forgetting to compare her friends' reactions.
'As expected, he knows something,' she thought as she saw how different and suspicious Cassius's reactions to her story were.
Where hermione was asking questions and reacting in a genuine shock, awe, concern etc… Cassius was furrowing his eyebrows and getting distracted by his thoughts.
Still, she didn't start asking him questions, no. Now that her head feels all light and free, she could actually think without getting distracted by everything around her.
'I will observe him more before confronting him,' she decided as she continued to answer Hermione's barrage of unending questions.
She didn't know what kind of magic Voldemort used but she didn't care either. She was free from him. Plus she got to feel just how much her mother loved her so, all in all, it was a very happy day for her.
'Hmm, I am hungry.'
X_
p@treon/hunter20