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Harry Potter and the Ritual of Love's Memory | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, General, Romance Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 259 Summary: After the horcrux hunt implodes leaving most of those Harry loves dead, he starts a new life with a few fellow survivors far away from wizarding Britain. But the discovery of an ancient ritual that promises to send a single memory back in time sparks hope that maybe things can change. Dark ending to DH followed by a tweaked retelling of GoF through DH. Harry/Ginny. Friday updates. Original Timeline Voldemort's Victory - Chapter 1-5 (Feel free to skip if you don't like major character deaths) Tenochtitlán - Chapter 6-9 New Timeline Harry's 4th Year - Chapter 10-28 Harry's 5th Year - Chapter 29-68 Harry's 6th Year - Chapter 69-Current Hitcount: Story Total: 169524; Chapter Total: 1464 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: This chapter and the following chapter will both be a bit shorter than average. I debated combining them, but I think that they both work better when standing alone. I'll be interested to read your thoughts about the events going on here. I also posted a day early on SIYE, because this community is fantastic and I enjoy giving a sneak preview to the folks frequenting this site. Hope y'all enjoy! |
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The grandfather clock downstairs chimed three times. Though Harry's mind was racing and his stomach was tied in knots, his traitorous eyelids continued to droop. He shook his head back and forth vigorously in an attempt to fight off the exhaustion that threatened to overtake his tired body as he sat on one of the couches in the Black family library. He glanced at the communication mirror to his right again, but it was just as empty as the previous dozen times he'd checked it in the last half hour. The first hour of the wait was filled with nervous conversations that were meant more to fill time than anything else. Harry had learned from Professor McGonagall that Dumbledore had made some good progress on filling the Defense position with someone competent, though she was cagey about actually sharing who he was targeting. She did reveal that Kingsley had been near the top of the headmaster's list of prospects, though his work as an Auror in a time of war was too critical for him to take off a year to teach. For his part, Kingsley assured them that there were plenty of qualified witches and wizards to select from and that he was perfectly happy instructing Harry one-on-one when they were out on missions together. The youngest of the group allowed his nervousness to be momentarily replaced by excitement when Kingsley mentioned the possibility of them visiting the Auror Training Camp, where prospective Aurors were put through their paces. Kingsley now looked slightly more awake than Harry felt, but only barely. The Auror's dark eyes flickered with the dancing light of flames as he stared at the fireplace. His breaths were long and slow. If he hadn't occasionally blinked or covered a great yawn with his hand, Harry might have mistaken him for a statue. He had long since stowed away his small notebook, which he had filled with numerous scribbles after the conversation had died down. Harry wondered if the notes were about the horcrux hunt, ongoing cases, or something else entirely. Not long after one, McGonagall had retreated to one of the nearby guest rooms reserved for Order members who needed a place to sleep. She made Kingsley and Harry promise to roust her once Dumbledore, Remus, and Sirius arrived back safely, assuring them that she had plenty of experience being awoken in the middle of the night. Kingsley had suggested she return to her home and her own bed, but the professor was not having it. She insisted that she wanted to know how the mission went the moment the others returned and that she must be at the ready in case anything went awry. Before leaving, she had reminded Harry to complete his Occlumency exercises before he drifted to sleep. He wasn't prone to skipping them, even though the dreams of the corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries had ceased after his escape from the ministry. Sirius had encouraged Harry to keep working to keep his mind protected but also guessed that word had reached Death Eater spies that the prophecy orb had been destroyed. Whether Voldemort assumed Dumbledore alone knew its contents or not, there was no harm in building up Harry's mental defenses. Harry's head nodded forward before he jerked it back to its formerly upright position. Kingsley smirked without even looking up from the fireplace, where the last two logs lay engulfed in flames. With a grumble of frustration, Harry pushed himself up off of the comfortable cushions and began to pace again, grabbing the mirror as he did. It was one thing to be faced with dire circumstances and have to think on his feet, but Harry thought it was a completely different challenge to be stuck waiting while others took on risks he could only imagine. He wondered whether Dumbledore and Remus had been able to enter the Death Eaters' vaults and if they'd found a horcrux. His mind constructed a variety of scenarios in which things went terribly wrong, shuddering when particularly gruesome possibilities materialized unbidden in his head. He fretted about what Sirius would do if they didn't return and if he would meet a similar fate while attempting a rescue. As he imagined Sirius facing down the dragon and a horde of angry goblins, he felt the mirror in his hand begin to heat up. He fumbled with it for a moment before he brought it to eye level and yelped, "Sirius?!" "Hey, Harry!" The man looked every bit as tired as Harry felt, but he wore a weary smile. "Moony and Dumbledore just got back into the Black vault. We'll all be back soon, but could you run and grab some of the burn salves from the infirmary?" "Is everyone okay?" called Harry, his eyes widening. "Should I have Kingsley call for Madam Pomfrey?" Sirius looked past the mirror for a few moments and seemed to be considering the suggestion before shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. We can confirm once we all get back, but let's just get the salves. At least for now." "I'm on it!" Excitement and determination swelled inside Harry's chest as he dropped the mirror onto a table and began to sprint out of the library and down the hallway. He almost forgot to wake McGonagall but managed to bang on the wall and shout "They're on the way!" as he ran past the door to her room. The portrait of Walburga Black screeched as he passed her landing, the curtains billowing outward as she cursed at him for his innumerable sins and slights against the Ancient and Noble House of Black. He paid her no mind as he ran, focusing solely on his task. Despite his fatigue from a late night, he made record time as he rushed to the room that had once been shared by Sirius' parents. Quickly scanning the various potions and bandages, he located a tray of ointments and salves from a shelf marked "Burns" before wheeling around to hurry back to the library. Like a Chaser protecting her quaffle, he held the tray tightly against his chest with one arm. The other grasped the banister and wrenched him forward up the staircase as he took three steps at a time. He heard the CRACK of apparition just as he was nearing the library. Harry banged into the doorframe as he sprinted into the room, barely maintaining his balance as two of the bottles of ointment nearly escaped his vise-like grip. Sirius and Kingsley were on either side of Dumbledore, helping him gingerly into a cushioned chair. Angry red burns covered his hands and arms, with a few circular welts dotting his face. Remus was bent over with his hands on his knees, the Sword of Gryffindor still clutched tightly in his left hand. Kreacher looked at Sirius expectantly for orders as McGonagall hovered nearby, her robes wrinkled from sleeping while wearing them in an effort to be ready at a moment's notice. "Cursed coins," called out Remus, his voice hoarse but excited. "They were in Bellatrix's vault. I was using the sword and gold got strewn everywhere. They multiplied whenever anything touched them, so he's got quite a few burns. "Not that I'm thrilled that the Lestranges are swimming in gold, but might have gone a lot worse for me if it'd been a cascade of silver sickles." The next few minutes were a chaotic blur for Harry. Sirius had hastily thanked Kreacher before dismissing him for the night while McGonagall and Kingsley administered a variety of the salves Harry had brought to Dumbledore's injuries. The headmaster did his best to remain a stoic patient throughout the ordeal but found himself hissing in pain on several occasions. Remus collapsed onto a couch, letting the sheathed sword clatter to the ground beside him. Eventually, the room calmed somewhat. Most of the sores on Albus' arms had subsided a bit, while those on his face had almost disappeared entirely after McGonagall applied a healthy dose of Essence of Dittany to them. Sirius had offered to call on Madam Pomfrey, but Dumbledore quickly assured him that he was well enough to continue without her services. With a long sigh, he settled back into the comfortable chair, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to smile. "Remus, would you mind doing the honors of regaling everyone with our tale? I seem to be sorely lacking the energy to do it justice at the moment…" Four sets of eyes fell on Remus as he pushed himself back into a sitting position on the couch. Kingsley stopped pacing to listen, while McGonagall moved to a nearby chair. Sirius plopped down next to Harry on another couch. Harry thought Remus looked awfully weary, but the former professor didn't hesitate to recount the story. "Well, everything started off according to plan. We arrived in the Black vault and cast a "Homenum Revelio!" just to test it out in those conditions. It indicated it was just the three of us, with a small extra magical signature that we identified as Kreacher by having him pop back over here while we cast it again." McGonagall nodded sagely, her tone impressed. "I'd wondered if that's why he came back to the house then popped away again after a couple of minutes. That was keen reasoning." "The Imperius Albus cast on Griphook this afternoon held up well." Harry's stomach sank as he glanced at Kingsley, whose expression soured at the mention of one of the Unforgivable Curses. It had taken a long time for Albus to convince the Auror that there were no other viable options. Even so, Kingsley appeared to be exceptionally frustrated anytime it came up. "We waited by the door until he arrived with the clangers, then Albus and I headed out. "Thanks to the information Harry talked out of our friend Griphook the other day, we had a pretty good idea of where we wanted to begin our search. We started by finding the Avery vault, which Griphook was able to open without any problem. I tried to go in with him to make sure it was safe, but Albus was too quick with his wand and got me with a Full Body Bind. Once he and Griphook entered without any sirens blaring, he deigned to allow me to join them." "I have asked you to risk a great many dangers for which you were much better suited than I," interjected Dumbledore, though his eyes were still closed as he rested on his chair. "Your diplomacy in addition to your lycanthropy and your prowess with a wand make you an excellent member of the Order and one to whom I owe a great debt. It made the most sense for me to be the one to test out my theory that entering a vault without intent to steal would allow safe passage." Remus smiled genuinely at the headmaster before continuing. "Once inside, we cast another Homenum Revelio, but it came back with just the two of us and a smaller signature for Griphook. We didn't want to tarry there too long, so we made our way back out and into the next vault. It took some time to get in and out of each one because of the dragon, but the clangers kept the dragon at bay long enough to let us make it through safely. "It took us the better part of three hours, but we searched every vault connected to the main chamber and the offshoot containing the Potter vault. Albus noted that it was possible Voldemort could have threatened or blackmailed some other old, wealthy family into storing a horcrux, or perhaps someone who followed him early on had died and their children accidentally inherited one without even knowing it, so we ended up just checking out each of the vaults." "You decided to change the plan at the last minute?" Kingsley's low voice was quiet but dangerous. Though he was interrupting Remus, his furious stare was focused solely on Dumbledore. "You switched from illegally searching the vaults of Death Eaters to violating the sanctity and privacy of twenty families based on what? A gut feeling? A whim?" The headmaster's eyes opened slowly. The contented expression he had previously worn gave way to a grave look. "While we were searching the vaults, it seemed prudent to-" Kingsley cut across him with a loud swear as he began pacing again. "You knew the plan already stomped past ethical lines in any number of directions! We went over it painstakingly to minimize risk and maintain our obligations! You argued that there was no other choice but to use an Unforgivable, even against our objections! I should have walked out when you first suggested it! And now you single-handedly make this call without us?!" Kingsley stalked back and forth, laying into Dumbledore again and again. Harry had seen the growing frustration in the Auror while the plans were being hammered out; he'd watched Kingsley grow quieter and quieter as the plan materialized. But he had no idea that the man was harboring this much righteous anger until it cascaded out of him like a torrent breaching a dam. Sirius was staring at Dumbledore with mouth slightly agape, rendered speechless by his friend's outburst of frustration. McGonagall's face was white as a sheet as she looked on. The look of pride Remus had carried as he explained the tale had melted away completely, even as he attempted to intervene. "We found one, Kingsley!" Remus interjected, his voice much less steady as he grappled with the realization of how the others had been cut out of deciding what to do. "We destroyed the cup in the Lestrange vault!" "I don't give a damn!" shouted Kingsley, his eyes never straying from Dumbledore. "Did you go in planning to search all the vaults, Albus?!" The older man sagged under the weight of the furious accusation. He started to say something, faltered, and then began again. "I apologize for changing the plan. It was never my intention to fall short of your ethical standards." With his chest heaving and eyelids narrowed, Kingsley stared at Dumbledore. The seething anger within him was no longer loud, but Harry could feel a burning intensity in his carefully measured words. "Did you plan to search them all beforehand? Answer. The. Question." "No, Kingsley, I did not." "Albus, no…" Remus' hands were shaking. His face was downcast, staring unblinkingly at the floor. His broad shoulders drooped as if pressed down by the weight of the world. With agonizing effort, the man lifted his head until his amber eyes locked with Kingsley's, despite the tears now rolling down his cheeks. "We talked about it last night, King. We decided it last night. We should have talked with you. I should have- I'm so sorry…" He let out a strangled sob that wrenched Harry's heart. Remus turned back to face Dumbledore with a look of abject misery. "I'm sorry…" The sound of something small whizzing through the air was followed by a jar lid shattering to the ground as Kingsley wordlessly summoned floo powder from the mantle into his outstretched hand. He strode purposefully across the room and flung it into the fireplace, disappearing into the flames almost before he'd spoken his destination. Quiet pervaded the room as the green fire dissipated, the thumping of Harry's heart pounding in his ears. As the reality of what had just taken place settled into Harry's reeling mind, Remus sprang up from his seat, nearly stumbling as he fled the library. Sirius loosed an angry swear before following his friend down the hall, casting a fuming glance over his shoulder at the headmaster as he left. Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Dumbledore but managed to drag his eyes to meet the gaze of his Head of House. He thought she somehow looked disappointed, angry, weary, and sad. Deeply, deeply sad. They said nothing for a few long, painful moments while the silence surrounded them. The crushing weight of the quiet pressed in upon Harry, which made him wonder how much worse it must have felt for Dumbledore as the old man sat motionless. Eventually, McGonagall spoke in a soft, low tone Harry couldn't ever recall her using before. "I shall remain here at Grimmauld Place tonight, but I think it would be a good idea for us both to go to bed, Harry." The sound of her tender voice and her use of his first name almost startled him as she slowly rose from her chair. "If you need me, for any reason at all, do not hesitate to call on me." As if under an Imperius, Harry rose to his feet and followed McGonagall out of the room. As he reached the hallway, he looked back at his headmaster. Albus Dumbledore sat perfectly still in the flickering firelight, staring unblinkingly into an unlit corner of the library as glistening tears fell from behind his spectacles. |
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