Indelible

Trying to pre-write this fiction as well. I’ll let you all know how long my resolve holds out. Go read THE LAMBS please. When this story is finished (which will probably be before BLACK COMPLICATION) then I’ll get started on SOUL SEEKER, is that k?

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Words: 3,040
Chapter 11
Test of Valor
September 26th 1995.

Albus Dumbledore had once been a good man, but even he could admit to himself that he was weak when faced with power. When he had been with Grindelwald he had allowed the power of the Dark Arts to go to his head, he had been driven mad by lust and power and his sister had been killed as a result. He had broken it off with Grindelwald just before the other man had disappeared. He had promised himself that he would stay away from temptation, so he had begun teaching at Hogwarts. Then he became Headmaster, once he had defeated his past lover, even forsaking the office of Minister for Magic. It was too large a temptation to risk.

He refused to let himself go down that path again. Unfortunately, power comes in many forms. The idea of helping to defeat another Dark Lord was a concept heady with power and recognition. He didn’t need the recognition, true, nor the power, but he craved it. He craved it passionately, because it reminded him of what he was like before he had lost his family and his lover.

Harry Potter and the prophecy had been necessary. He honestly did believe in the prophecy, or he would not have shared it with the elder Potters. But then, power affected more people than just Dumbledore himself. Tom Riddle was made powers willing slave, along with Ginny Weasley. While she died for her mistakes, it was really Harry who suffered, and all of his friends.

Albus truly believed that Voldemort’s Horcrux had killed Harry’s soul. If he had known Harry was still alive he would have cast an exorcism, or a banishing, or something. But he had seen the boy’s eyes turn red when he had looked at Lucius. Albus had seen it, and it was proof enough. And so, the boy went to Azkaban.

And Dumbledore lost his weapon, and the easiest way for him to gain more power for himself.

But now, there was the boy, Grey. He had power. Albus had watched out of his office window as the boy thrashed in the Lake and how he was able to levitate himself out of the Merfolk’s grasp. It had been amazing, and Albus could practically see the magic churning all around the boy, sweeping out and cocooning the child in it’s protective, powerful embrace.

Dumbledore wanted it, needed it. His body craved it, and while his heart fought against the desire, his better judgment hardly ever won out. After all, absolute power corrupts absolutely. While he would deny it, Dumbledore was well on his way.

“Albus, are you with us?” Minerva asked with a scowl, waving her hand in front of his face.

They were all clustered around a table in the dining room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. While Sirius had gone to Gringotts to lay claim to all of his possessions, including the house, he had informed the Goblins that no one was to know. Sirius wanted the Order of the Phoenix to keep using the house; he wanted them to keep their guards down for as long as possible. Now that Sirius owned the house once again he was automatically once of its secret keepers.

“Yes, yes, my dear, sorry about that.” He cleared his throat and took a look around the table. The elder Weasleys were all there, along with most of the teachers from Hogwarts, including Snape. A few others were present as well, mostly those from the previous war.

Remus leant forward and frowned. “What’s this about, Albus?”

Dumbledore smiled softly. “I do believe, my friends, that I have found a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all.” Everyone began to talk amongst him- or her- selves, and for the most part happy. Remus was wary, and rather worried. Harry wouldn’t be happy. Severus just shrugged noncommittally. If Dumbledore won, then Dumbledore won, it was no skin off his nose. As long as he made sure to remain on the winning side till the end, then Severus would be happy.

“There is another prophecy. It had been made quite a while ago, and has recently come to my attention.” He chuckled softly, “and it is much shorter than the one concerning our dearly departed Harry. The Second Coming, Coming at the beginning of a year, will Come to save them from the True enemies. I believe the ‘true enemies’ to be a reference to Voldemort and his Death Eaters.”

“And what of the Second Coming?” Hesita Jones asked with a frown. “Did anyone meet someone new last January?”

“I believe the prophecy referred to the month of September. The beginning of a new school year at Hogwarts.”

“But everyone at Hogwarts is the same as last year, except Delores Umbridge!” Molly exclaimed with a sigh. “I don’t see how that helps.”

“Well,” Albus smiled, “it wouldn’t help if you were correct. Fortunately, we did have a new student this September. Mr. Dorian Hayes-Grey recently joined us from Russia after the death of his mother. I’m sure many of you met him at his coming out Ball a few months ago.”

“It cannot possibly,” Severus murmured softly. It was obviously louder than he intended because everyone turned to stare at him. “He is affianced to a Malfoy, do you honestly believe Lucius will let the boy run about defeating this or the other and make a show of the Malfoy name? It’s not him, couldn’t possibly be him.” Severus folded his arms over his chest and glared at anyone who was still looking at him.

Remus was having the same reaction, mentally. Panic was forefront in his mind. He had only just gotten to know the kid; he couldn’t leave him. And poor Sirius, the other man wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of Harry being forced into a situation like that.

“The boy is powerful, he reminds me of Harry in that respect. Maybe, maybe the first prophecy was about Dorian, and not Harry? His mother defied Voldemort on numerous occasions before she was killed, or so I’m told. Perhaps he was born in July as well?”

“Now, you are stretching,” Minerva sighed.

“None the less. The boy is powerful. He could help us. You are all aware of the Horcruxes Voldemort has made. They take an item of great power and strength to destroy each one individually. The boy wields more power than myself. He would easily be able to destroy these items, with the right help and guidance, than I would be able.” That admittance irritated Dumbledore somewhat. There was a time when he had been all-powerful, and all-important, and now he was nothing more than a glorified Headmaster, looking to teenage boys to save the day.

“I shall ask Dorian to join me as I seek out the Horcruxes. Together we shall destroy them. Then, finally, Voldemort will fall for good.”

The moment Remus was free to leave; he headed straight back for Hogwarts and told Harry everything Albus had said. Harry immediately told Voldemort, using their connection. Draco scowled, Tom scowled, Remus paced and Voldemort started screaming with rage. “Shut up,” Harry muttered massaging his temple, “you are giving me a headache.”

Voldemort stayed silent until Harry had fallen asleep, but he later joined Tom in the imaginary Chamber of Secrets in Harry’s mind and together the two parts of the one soul planned all of the ways to kill and torture Dumbledore.

It was their guess, and Remus and Lucius had both agreed when they had been asked, that the prophecy did not referred to Voldemort at all. It seemed someone had known that Harry was going to be betrayed, and they had foreseen Harry returning as someone else and resolving the problems from his past. Voldemort believed that Harry was intended to save Dumbledore from himself. He was the true enemy; his craving for power, despite the fact that he didn’t actually want any power, was his demon. He was his own worst enemy because he was weak enough to let his personal demons win.

XXX

October 2nd 1995.

Albus wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t going to just decide that Dorian was this new Second Coming and that would be that. Rather he was out to prove it. He wanted Dorian to prove it, to Dumbledore, and to the Order and the entire Wizarding World if need be. But Severus had been right. There was no way Lucius would allow him to make a spectacle of Dorian, nor would Marvolo Hayes be accommodating in that respect either.

Instead, Dumbledore had decided to set up events, occurrences, which would force Dorian to reveal his true potential. Then, and only then, when he had passed, would Dumbledore reveal the secrets of the Horcruxes. Unfortunately for Albus, Voldemort had already told Harry all about them.

The first had occurred on one of the rare occasions where Dorian was by himself. Insanely, the boy was sitting beside the Lake he had almost drowned in three weeks ago. He was lying on his back with a book propped up on his school bag, which was lying on his stomach. He was turning the pages with magic, wandless, and with a roll of his eyes he noticed Seamus, Dean and Neville come over.

“Ah, they always say a coward returns to the scene of his crime.”

“Criminal, actually,” the Muggle raised Dean spat.

Dorian smirked, the corners of his lips drawing up on the left side only and flashing his teeth at the boys. “They both have the same general meaning, in my point of view.”

“No one cares about your point of view, Death Eater!” Seamus hissed.

“As opposed to the two who almost killed a student. If Dumbledore wasn’t so corrupt, you would have been expelled weeks ago.” He looked over at Neville, who was blushing slightly, while the other two tried to think up a reasonable insult. “And what are you doing here?”

“He’s here cause he agrees with us!”

Dorian rolled his eyes. He made sure that Tom was awake and could hear every word, just in case. “What, that you are both brainless, biased morons? I’m sure everyone agrees with that.” Dorian got to his feet and rolled his eyes in Neville’s direction. The boy blushed harder but rolled his eyes shyly back. Truthfully, both of the other two had bullied Neville into presenting a ‘united front’. Neville had been too scared to refuse. After Ron had died, Seamus and Dean became the unofficial rules of Gryffindor – much like Harry, Ron and Hermione would have been had Tom Riddle not succeeded – and most people were afraid of them. Especially since Headmaster Dumbledore seemed to support most of their actions.

With his bag, and book, in hand, Dorian moved away from the Gryffindors. He didn’t get far before a spell was cast at his back. “Levicorpus!” Dean cried. By all rights, Dorian should have been hanging in the air by his ankles with his robes dangling over his face. But he wasn’t.

Snape was approaching them, and he had recognized the spell from when James Potter cast it on him. He was a second away from countering it, when Dorian’s right hand disappeared beneath his left armpit, and his wand poked out towards the idiot boys. With a smirk, no one saw, Dorian cast a mirroring charm. Dean Thomas ended up hanging by his ankles. Unlike Dorian, Dean wasn’t wearing any trousers. His Incredible Hulk boxers were on display for anyone who was interested to see.

Snape lowered his wand in shock. No doubt the boy was powerful, but this didn’t prove that Dorian was the Second Coming.

“I didn’t have you pinned for someone who would be interested in a guy’s boxers.” Dorian threw a smirk over his shoulder, one side of his mouth pulled higher than the other so he looked mocking rather than amused. “I guess looks can be deceiving, mate.” He waved his hand in an obviously gay manner, and both Dean and Seamus blushed and stuttered and denied the accusation. Dean was still upside down.

Dorian left him there, and Snape turned the other way and left him there as well.

October 9th 1995.

It was later the same week, in a Potions class the Slytherins were unfortunate enough to share with the Gryffindors that the second incident occurred. This time Dorian was with Draco, and the boy looked pissed off. He kept shooting glares at Dean and Seamus, both of whom were trying to make it out to be Dorian’s fault, while Neville softly tried to defend the Slytherin.

They were mostly finished creating a healing potion, which if made incorrectly could sometimes cause permanent, painful damage. Dorian and Draco worked together, and like all of Draco’s potions, this one was going brilliantly. Well, until Seamus bolstered up the courage to follow Dumbledores instructions. The Headmaster had given him Basilisk scales. Seamus had been told that they had the power to ruin any good-natured potion. All Seamus had to do was aim for Dorian’s cauldron and throw.

Which he did.

The scales landed with a soft splash, not enough for anyone to actually hear it, but Tom was rather used to irritating Gryffindors in his own time. He had become rather aware of who was throwing things into his potions, and he used his own experiences to keep an eye out for Harry. Without moving a finger, or a wand, Tom took brief control of Harry’s body and whispered, “Protego.” He was just in time. The second the spell took form, the potion bubbled uncontrollably before spewing from the cauldron like an erupting volcano. Draco began to duck, but Dorian just sat there, staring at Seamus who was on the other side of the room. A few Slytherins received minor burns, but the potion hit the shield in front of Dorian and Draco and dribbled harmlessly to the floor.

Snape clutched a hand to his chest, trying to calm his heart as he watched the boy. It was like he knew it was going to happen. He didn’t even try to get out of range.

“When I find out who was responsible, I assure you, the punishment will be dire.” Severus snarled, his voice quiet but menacing.

“How do you know the Slytherins didn’t just do it wrong?” Seamus said trying to sound cocky, but really he was sort of afraid.

Snape waved his wand. The potion disappeared from the floor and the cauldron, and those with burns were cleaned and sent to the hospital wing. “Because, Mr. Finnegan,” he drawled moving to lean over the boys desk. There was something in his hand, something he had taken out of the cleaned cauldron. “Basilisk scales are not a required ingredient in today’s potion.” He paused, “believe me, I will find out who is responsible.” Seamus gulped.

“Class,” he glared at the all, “dismissed.”

XXX

October 11th 1995.

It was the night of the full moon, the second of three for that month. Harry had gone with Remus to the Shrieking Shack. He had lain down beside the other man until the moon had risen. Until Remus had begged him to leave for his own safety. Remus did take the Wolfsbane potion, but sometimes it wasn’t enough. Sometimes there was no substitute for the power of a kill.

Harry frowned, and wrapped his cloak around himself tighter. He brushed back his long hair from his face. Green eyes widened when he pushed at the doors to Hogwarts and they didn’t budge. He tried unlocking spells, then tried locking the door and unlocking it again just in case, then he tried blasting the door open. Nothing worked.

When Harry heard howling, he thought it might be a good time to start running.

“Maybe I can stay in the owlery?”

Tom growled, appearing beside him. “This reeks of Dumbledore. Especially considering the shit he’s put you through this week.”

“He wants to make sure I’m the one from the prophecy.” Harry muttered, stealing a quick hug from Tom as they made their way to the owlery. “If only he knew.” They shared a smirk at that.

When no werewolves appeared out of the forest, Tom disappeared and left Harry to curl up on the floor in the owlery. “Good Merlin, do a cleaning charm first.”

“Don’t know any,” he said sleepily. Tom cast a few, briefly using Harry’s body. “Thanks.” Harry murmured before leaning his head back against the wall, and drifting off to sleep.

When Dumbledore found him the next morning, he recognized the magical signature that surrounded the clean area of the owlery. He sighed sadly, and frowned. So Voldemort had found a way to possess this child as well, had he?

Dumbledore brought him to the infirmary, and the first thing the medi-witch did was check that Dorian wasn’t a werewolf. When Madame Pomfrey had left the room, Dumbledore waved his wand over the boy, still sleeping in the bed. Two auras jumped out at him. The one he knew belonged to Tom Riddle, and the other, that belonged to Dorian. Dumbledore frowned, but was relieved that this boy did not suffer Harry’s fate, and die for Tom Riddle to live.

Dumbledore assumed this meant that Harry had stopped being a useful host for the young Dark Lord, and Tom had jumped ship, so to speak, when Dorian had come along. But, it worked in Albus’ favor. There was a ritual, a Dark and dangerous ritual that drew of the magic of a sacrifice. It was used for destroying dark artifacts in large numbers. Perhaps Dorian was the Second Coming who would save them from Voldemort.

If Dumbledore could gather the Horcruxes into one place, and lure Dorian there he could use the boy – or Tom Riddle, either would suit his needs – to destroy all of the Horcruxes at once. Dumbledore felt a small smile beginning to form on his face. Yes, the boy’s soul would pay the price, but it was for the greater good.

Just keep telling yourself that Albus, he thought to himself as he left the room. It’s for the greater good.

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Thanks for reading. Like I said, have a few future chapters planned out. I personally can’t wait until CHAPTER 13. I’m such a bitch, aren’t I? Please review and I might be kinder to you all.