Harry winced as he turned his neck to look at his bedroom door, which had just opened.
It had been six days since his visit to the Grand Canyon, and impromptu cross-country journey. Six long days without any sort of news. Also, five days since Len, his tutor in swordplay, had decided to distract Harry by increasing the intensity of his training. Today had been the worst, as it felt like the man was trying to fit a lifetime of training into one day. And it was three minutes until his paste would be cooled and ready to start applying to his bruises. So, of course, Albus had decided to come in while Harry was trying to stay very still and not focused on the giant bruise that was his body.
Albus took one look at the cooling paste and smiled sympathetically.
"My apologies, Harry. I hadn't realized you were indisposed. Would you like me to return when you are in a less of a state of... discomfort?"
If his tired muscles would have allowed it, Harry would have shrugged. Instead, he simply turned his neck back to a more comfortable angle while glancing at his timer.
"You may need to step outside for a moment when the paste is cooled. Though, in my current state, it will probably take half an hour to just cover myself with that foul smelling godsend of a paste."
Albus frowned. "Why don't you just apply it with magic?"
Harry sighed. "Because the book said applying magic to the paste would ruin it."
"Yes, that is true. But you can simply apply magic to some washcloths and have them rub the paste onto you... have you been applying the paste by hand since you started training with me?"
Harry groaned. "You couldn't have told me about this earlier? This isn't a lemon-drop lesson about asking questions, is it?"
Albus chuckled. "I assure you that was not my intention. Had I known of your... less than efficient healing regimen, I would have told you the trick without prompting. Though, if you want to treat this experience as an object lesson in remembering to ask questions rather than suffering in silence, then feel free."
Harry closed his eyes in annoyance (mostly with himself). "Give me five minutes."
"Of course."
Five minutes later, Albus sat in front of a much more relaxed (as well as smellier and greasier) Harry.
"So, Albus, what did you want to talk about?"
Albus smiled. "Before I begin, you need to promise me that what I tell you does not go into your letters to Marcus. Not even a hint."
Harry became much more alert. "Of course! Is this about my idea? Was it..."
Albus's smile broadened. "It was correct. Well done! Right after you told me your idea, I contacted Saint Mungo's and told them. They then talked with Marcus about any unusual cases of accidental magic that he had before he started showing his symptoms. As he recalled his various episodes in the months preceding his hospitalization, he did remember one time where he was playing with his toy Quaffle. He had thrown it a bit harder than intended and it landed in some tall grass. As he searched, he found it to be thoroughly lost. As such, he began to panic that he would get in trouble with his parents for losing yet another toy. Predictably, his heightened emotions caused the Quaffle to come flying towards him. Sadly, it was hidden behind him and he didn't realize it was coming until it collided solidly into his head."
Harry rubbed his arm absently, remembering a certain encounter with a Bludger. "Ouch!"
Albus chuckled. "Not to worry, toy Quaffles are designed with small children in mind. I am sure it stung and came as a shock, but it would not have caused any damage."
Harry smiled in relief. "So..."
"So... the odd thing to Marcus, was that his leg stung almost as much as his head."
Harry's eyes gleamed. "Did the healers find anything?"
Albus shook his head. "No, the HEALERS did not find anything."
"But..."
"But Lakshmi did find something. Right in his thigh, there is a pocket of Adder venom. The healers couldn't find it because their spells are designed to find foreign sources of magic, whereas Adder venom is decidedly non-magical. Non-magical venoms have never been known to cause any problems in magical people, and so healers simply don't know the proper spells for detecting such things. Indeed, until Newt discovered the phenomenon, venoms of that sort weren't believed to be a problem in even magical creatures. Additionally, he was the one who invented the spells to detect venoms of a non-magical nature in the first place. He is a brilliant man but tends to be very focused on magical creatures and so it never occurred to him to think the humans might also suffer from the same weaknesses."
Harry cheered. "So, it took Mrs. Patil this long to get to see Marcus? That's why I hadn't heard anything?"
Albus, frowned. "Alas, no. Lakshmi took your request quite seriously, and arrived to see Marcus within 24 hours. It took her another day to track down the antivenom. There is a complication, I'm afraid."
Harry's cheer dimmed. "They can cure him, right?"
"In a sense, but their cure would be rather drastic. The venom has become so saturated with Marcus's magic that the antivenom does nothing. The reason why non-magical venom normally would not affect Marcus, is the same reason that non-magical antivenom has no effect. In advanced cases like this, when it comes to animals, Newt's recommendation is to remove the affected limb."
Harry gasped. "Can't they just remove the pocket of venom and then... regrow that section of leg, or something?"
"According to Newt, that doesn't seem to work. If even a drop of the venom is lying within some nearby tissue, it would cause it to regenerate even stronger as Marcus's magic would fight to restore its 'natural' state. The only way to be sure is to remove the entire limb. Had it just been a bite to the calf, then it might be an amputation above the knee. With it being on Marcus's thigh... well the traditional options are limited."
Harry's eyes narrowed in thought. "Traditional options... but... you! You've been skipping my normal training sessions. So, you've got something... which, it being you, would mean... would mean... ALCHEMY! You've got an answer using alchemy! Please, tell me you've got an answer!"
Albus smiled. "I indeed have an answer. It's part of why I have waited this long before talking with you. I have found a way to imbue the antivenom with my magic, which looks to be able to overcome Marcus's magic enough to neutralize the venom slightly. At the rate we are seeing, it will take anywhere from another five to twenty daily doses before we can fully neutralize the venom. However, I will need to visit him daily to calibrate how much of my magic to imbue in each dose, as too much of my magic may have a deleterious effect. Once neutralized, he can finally go home. Until then, he still needs to keep calm and free of bouts of accidental magic. As such, he absolutely cannot be aware of the treatment as the possibility of a cure might overly excite him. So, you must refrain from even hinting at something like this in your daily letters. Even a slight clue might undo the good we can do and then the healers will take the extreme measure of amputation if it comes down to it. Am I clear on the importance of keeping him uninformed?"
Harry nodded. "I understand, I really do!"
Harry beamed. His heart felt full to bursting.
"Is this why Len seemed to be going overly crazy with today's training?"
Albus chuckled. "I'm afraid I did mention to him that today might be your last day in America, for a while. He felt it important that you knew all you could possibly know to continue your training by yourself. That is assuming that you wish to join me. If you prefer, you can stay here and treat this as a winter break. I'm sure Remus and Sirius would happily stay here with you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "They just don't want to talk to Sirius's mom and house elf. We're all coming!"
Albus smiled as he stood up. "In that case, get packed."
As the older man walked towards the door, he stopped in the doorway and spoke over his shoulder. "Oh, you may want to brush up on wards. I have a lead on a possible horcrux."
"WHAT!?"
The man didn't turn around, but Harry was sure that Albus was smiling smugly.
One week later, Harry found himself sitting on a patch of grass reading his Potions textbook. About fifty meters from him was a rundown shack containing a horcrux. One of the magical tendrils from the locket had stopped roaming and was now firmly trying to connect to the shack. It was all very exciting.
The emphasis really needed to put on the word "was". When he had first arrived, over six hours ago, Harry had been excited. He watched with interest as Albus began to strip away the magical protections on the building. After an hour though, it had become tedious. After two hours, it had become boring. After three hours, Harry decided he was bored enough to try to wrap his mind around the Potions assignment Remus had given.
Albus settled down next to Harry, pulling out a flask of water. The old man had a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Setting down his book, Harry spoke up. "Any luck?"
Albus sighed contentedly after finishing the last of his water. "Indeed. Say what you will about Tom, as I am sure you have rather a few choice words to say, but he certainly was committed to walking the untrod pathways of magic. I would have never thought to layer curses on random dead leaves, twigs, and pebbles as traps. Although, it's possible that he simply used the Gaunt house as a practice sight for all his future work on wards. None of his other strongholds had ever been this fortified, nor had such varied protections. Not they were unfortified, mind you, but the protections felt more refined. Still, another hour or so, and that should leave only the horcrux and whatever protections are applied directly to it."
"That's good, I would like to get home before nighttime, if possible."
Albus frowned. "I do apologize. Had I realized it would take this long, I would have chosen a day other than Christmas Eve to move forward with our plans here."
Harry shrugged. "Don't worry about it, getting rid of a piece of his soul will be a wonderful present. Plus, I still have a Potions book to not understand, so I'm good."
Albus chuckled. "It's not going well?"
Harry groaned. "No, and I don't get it. Marcus has never made a single potion, and yet he has already come up with two innovations that have been published. Why does OWL level theory come so easily to him, and I struggle to understand third year work?"
Albus smiled. "For most of my life, I would have said that it was one of the great unsolved mysteries of magic. Some people are just attuned to specific fields, and yet are horrible at others. No matter how smart they are, some subjects just elude them."
"Most of your life? Meaning, not anymore?"
Albus nodded. "I found, a little less than a decade ago, that the answer is found in the field of Divination."
Harry frowned in confusion. "Divination? Hermione wrote about that. She was allowed to audit the class for a month before choosing which electives she would not take. She said that the professor was a fraud and that the entire subject was a waste of time."
Albus chuckled. "Sybill would be pleased to hear that. Getting intelligent young witches and wizards like Miss Granger to abandon Divination is a pleasure to her. She does indeed give off the impression of being a fraud, with her constant predictions of her pupils dying of increasingly unlikely means. Her predecessor was like that as well. From what I hear, the Divinations Professor when I was child was also the same. One night, out of idle curiosity, I broached the subject with her. Her answer was... enlightening."
"How so?"
"Apparently, her job is not to teach Divination. Her job is to make students disbelieve Divination."
Harry looked at Albus with undisguised disbelief. "What?"
"It has to do with the nature of prophecies. This is normally taught over a period of months in seventh year to the true believers, those who refuse to believe that Divination is a joke despite Sybill's best efforts. Given that, I will be summarizing several hours of conversation into a drastically condensed form for you. Prophecies are powered by three types of magic. The weakest kind of magic is personal magic. If I hear a prophecy that I will break a plate, and I believe it, my magic will try to make my belief come true and it will cause me to break the plate. The prophecy would not have come to pass if I had just not believed in it. The second type is much more powerful, as it is Time Magic, where magic itself will manipulate time to make the prophecy come true regardless of one's belief."
"Magic can do that!? I mean.. I know, magic is weird, but still..."
Albus nodded. "It is surprising. Even more surprising to me, there are even two practical applications of studies into the field of Prophecy Magic. The most obvious is the Time Turner, which lets you travel back in time and interact with your past self, where you can enter a time loop where you are only able to do something because in the future you went to the past to enable the past you to do something. It's headache inducing if you thick on it too long."
"Yeah... that's... yeah... what's the second application?"
"That would be a potion called Felix Felicis. It is a potion that is supposed to give you good luck. What it really does, which I only learned from Sybill, is manipulate the past to transform the present into a state where you have good luck."
Harry felt his eyes bug out slightly in shock. "So... to be clear, there is a device that can let you travel back in time, and a potion that manipulates time to give a person good luck... why don't people use it all the time? Why didn't my parents use it to stay alive? Why didn't Tom use it? I mean..."
Albus nodded. "I understand your confusion. You are not alone in your questions. The answer lies in the third and most dangerous magic that powers Prophecy Magic, which is Justice Magic. Magic seems to have a sense of justice. Not a type of justice that matches up with human notions of justice, and it could be somewhat seen as a cold, even cruel justice. It can best be described as a desire to punish those who abuse Magic itself. Usually, if magic doesn't want someone to have access to a Time Turner or Luck Potion, events will simply transpire such that they don't get it. If you get access to a Time Turner or some Felix Felicis, it is likely because you were fated to get it. However, If someone fights magic's desires on this and gets a hold of the Turner or the Potion, then they may find themselves erased from existence by the Time Turner, or their Good Luck ending right a painfully fatal moment."
Albus continued after seeing Harry nod slowly. "Now, one of the problems is that if enough Personal Magic fuels a prophecy, then Time Magic will take over and start to fuel it. At which point it becomes a True Prophecy. Do you know the best thing to do with True Prophecy?"
After a shake of Harry's head, Albus continued. "You ignore it. Pretend like you didn't hear it. Otherwise, you might be tempted to try to make the True Prophecy come true in the way you prefer. If you do that, you then risk invoking Justice Magic, and then bad things are bound to happen to you, your loved ones, your plans, or any combination thereof."
Harry rubbed his forehead slowly. "So, Divination professors try to make people think prophecies are a scam, so they are more likely to ignore predictions and... not turn prophecies into True Prophecies?"
Albus smiled. "Exactly. Also, to prevent people from invoking magic's wrath with Justice Magic. So, if you ever hear a prophecy, and you think you know someone it applies to, try not to tell them. I would only ever share something like that if I was in some sort of worst-case scenario where not sharing the prophecy would somehow make things worse."
Harry's brow knitted in confusion. "But... what about Seers? Those who make the prophecies?"
"They do whatever they can to forget and unburden themselves of the responsibility of seeing the future and knowing they, more than most, are bound by their own visions. If they see themselves going somewhere, then they go to the place whether they want to or not. Sybill's method of coping is... copious amounts of cooking sherry."
Harry nodded. "OK. Prophecies should be ignored. I should be happy I'm not a Seer. Got it. But what does that have to do with Potions?"
"Ah, yes. This is what came as a surprise to me. Potions originated as a form of Divination."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll need a little more than that."
Albus nodded and stretched his legs out on the patch of grass they sat upon. "It's not just Potions. Every branch of magic started out in Divination. This is a facet of Divination only the truly advanced students discover, well... I suppose also Headmasters can also discover it if they are willing to properly talk with their Divinations Professors. It is rather like Philosophy in non-magical studies, where Math, Medicine, Science, and most every other field of study started out as Philosophical discussions. When the Philosophical discussion started to have practical applications, it was spun off into its own field. The same applies to Divination. Divination, at its roots, was about divining the nature of magic. As people divined the nature of magical plants and animals and how they interact, they spun that study off into the field of Potions and Herbology. When they divined the nature of the structure of objects and how that interacts with magic..."
Harry smiled. "They spun that study off into Transfiguration. So, it only seems like a useless subject because people keep taking the useful parts away. So, why does that mean I am terrible at Potions."
Albus grinned. "Because you are not the Potions version of a Seer."
Harry's jaw dropped. "That... that actually makes sense. Hermione wrote about how she could understand all the techniques for Divination, but never saw any glimpse of the future. She's not a Seer, so the techniques just wouldn't work as well. However, when it comes to Potions just is able to figure out how to reverse problems that I know the books didn't discuss. Meanwhile, I can understand the techniques for making Potions, but it will never come that naturally to me. Does that mean that Marcus is a Potions... well Potions Seer sounds weird, but is he one?"
Albus shrugged. "Perhaps. He certainly seems to have a stronger affinity for the field than I have seen in many decades. Though, he might just be a genius who is bored. Never underestimate what can be generated by the mind of a bored genius. I have a lighter somewhere in my possessions which started as a normal light, and now can absorb balls of light, act as a remote Floo, and... well I have tinkered with so much, I have lost track of all the random abilities it has. We will have to wait some years yet to see where Marcus lies on the spectrum of bored genius to Potions Seer."
Harry dismissed the idea that Albus lost track of what enchantments he had put on some random lighter, as it was hardly surprising. "So, is this whole Divination thing the reason why I have trouble remembering the magic theory I read in all these books?"
Albus stretched as he stood up. "No, I suspect that has more to do with the fact that you learn better by doing over reading. That's just standard human behavior. All you can do for that is just recognize that character trait, buckle down, and then read as best as you can. Speaking of which, I have some more protections to take down, and you have a book to get back to."
Harry grumbled as he picked up his book.
It was 87 minutes later when the final protection on the Gaunt Shack came down.
Harry followed Albus into the shack and noted how the whole place made Sirius's home look positively pristine. The floor was littered with the skeletons and rotting remains of various vermin that had entered the house and had their life energy drained by the horcrux. The furniture was coated in thick layers of mold, and mud coated the floor. Clearly, Tom hadn't cared about keeping out rain and dirt. With a quick pulse of his magic, Harry covered his head in a layer of fresh air to keep out the smell of rot, death, and decay.
He was so focused on the surroundings that he nearly bumped into Albus, who had stopped in the middle of the room. Following the older man's intense gaze, he saw a gold ring with a black stone inset that was sitting on the center of the mantle above the fireplace.
"No, it couldn't be..." he heard Albus mumble.
"What is it?"
Albus seemed to not hear him. The man continued to mutter to himself. "The Stone! It has to be it. The Gaunts are old enough... I can feel it... Arianna! I can finally apologize..."
Harry felt alarmed as he saw Albus's eyes seem to glaze over as he slowly started to step forward. His hand began to reach out towards the ring. Harry looked at the malicious magic rolling off the ring and spoke in alarm.
"Albus! What are you doing!?"
Albus ignored Harry, attention fully on the ring. "I'm so sorry. You'll see I'm better. You'll have to forgive me. I'm good now. I'm good. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so..."
Albus's mumbles became too quiet for Harry to hear as the man kept edging closer to the ring. With a burst of panic, he reached out and touched Albus's robes.
Albus yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself floating in midair, held up by his levitated and strengthened robes.
Albus's eyes widened in... was it fear? Panic? Anger? Harry wasn't sure, but they widened when he unsheathed the Sword of Gryffindor and moved towards the ring.
"NO!" Albus shouted in a hoarse cry of fear, sadness, and wrath. "Harry, don't destroy it! I need it! If you ever cared for me, you won't do this! PLEASE! Please! Please please please please..."
Harry winced and took a deep breath. Then, ignoring Albus's cries and struggles, with a well-practiced arm he swung the sword down swiftly and smoothly. The combination of a magically sharp edge and basilisk venom allowed the sword to split both the ring and stone in half along with slicing through the rotted wood of the mantle, followed by a shriek of rage and pain coming from the offending object. With that, he heard a gasp from Albus as the man stopped struggling and fell silent.
Looking down at the floor, he saw the sizzling halves of the black stone. The black stone that had so ensorcelled Albus, and with a nod he slowly pushed the tip down onto one of the halves and watched as the venom began to dissolve it into nothing. He repeated the process on the other half. Looking around the room, he saw that whatever magic had been upon the ring and stone was now completely gone. With a nod, he turned around to look at a floating Albus. Gratefully, the man's eyes seemed focused and he had a much calmer demeanor.
"Thank you, Harry. I had felt the compulsions on Tom's horcrux, trying to get me to wear the ring, and was easily battling them. But then I saw the stone... I'm afraid it caused me to drop my defenses for a moment. It was a clearly a moment much too long. Had you not been here, I fear... It is likely for the best that the stone is no more, and I doubt I would have had the strength to destroy it myself. Some things are... best removed from the world where they can cause temptation."
Harry touched Albus's robes and gently lowered him to a standing position before undoing his magic.
"What was the stone?"
Albus stared at the two spots where the stone's halves had dissolved. He was silent for a moment before answering. "A legend. A children's story. One that I thought I no longer cared about. If you are agreeable, we can discuss it at some later point. I just need... some time."
Harry nodded. "And Arianna... your sister?"
Albus's eyes glistened and nodded slowly.
"Well, I know I can't speak for her... but if I were in her place, I would forgive you. You nearly did something very... unwise..."
Albus chuckled ruefully. "I appreciate the politeness, but you can call it stupid, Harry."
Harry nodded. "You nearly did something... monumentally stupid, and all because you wanted her to know you were sorry. If she didn't already know, that certainly must have convinced her."
A single tear rolled down Albus's cheek. "Thank you, Harry. You continue to amaze me. Now, let's leave this place. I could do with a nice Hot Chocolate."
With a nod, the two disappeared from the spot without a sound.
The next morning, Harry stretched out in his bed with a smile. Kreacher had done an amazing job over the past months making Sirius's home into a habitable location. It was excessively clean, but it wasn't filthy either. After preparing for the morning and getting dressed he walked downstairs.
In the sitting room sat a massive tree. Sirius and Remus had expanded the room's height, so all 14 feet of the tree (and 3-foot-tall star) could easily fit. It glimmered with magical lights and was decorated with a huge collection of ornaments that Remus had gotten from every state they had visited in America, along with many oddly shaped ornaments made by Dobby (they looked to be clay sculptures of Harry in the middle of various actions (the one of him slaying the basilisk was especially impressive), each one showing a clear progression in the elf's skill level.
Under the tree was a large stack of presents. Many from the four men and one elf, along with more from the Hogwarts staff and Harry's friends. If he wasn't mistaken, there were some more from the Goblins of Egypt (though they seemed to all be addressed to Dobby).
"Merry Christmas, Harry"
"Merry Christmas, Sirius" Harry answered as he turned around and laughed.
Sirius was grinning widely as he and Remus walked in dressed as Elves from the North Pole, followed by Dobby dressed as Santa.
Thankfully, Albus refrained from dressing as Mrs. Claus.
After a full day of presents, laughter, and an excessive amount of food, Harry relaxed into the couch. Remus, Sirius, and Dobby were rushing around the room having a snowball fight while Harry casually refilled their bowls with snowballs with a simple touch. With a pleased sigh, he set down the letter from Marcus, having read it half a dozen times already. It was a short and excited letter telling Harry that the boy was finally cured and was able to spend Christmas at home. Harry would make sure to write back before he went to bed.
Albus sat in a nearby armchair, contentedly reading a book on the history of candy (Harry's gift to the man) while warming himself in front of the crackling fire in the fireplace.
"Albus?"
"Hmm?"
"Do we have any Butterbeers?"
Albus conjured a bookmark before closing his book. "I don't believe we have any on hand. Why?"
"Would you mind going to get some for all of us?"
Albus looked at his book with longing before sighing. "I suppose. I will be back shortly."
It was ten minutes later when Albus returned with five bottles of Butterbeer. Harry was sitting on the couch still, but he was now joined by Sirius, Remus, and Dobby. Sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch was a package.
As Albus set down the bottles, he looked at the package.
"What is this?"
Harry smiled. "That's one last present. It's for you. Open it."
Albus picked up the present and began to unwrap it as Harry stood and continued to talk.
"I had Dobby teaching me for a while now. I have been working on those, by hand, for the past month. I know they aren't the best quality, and we're not Nicholas and Perenelle..."
Albus stared down in awe at the open package, containing a pair of red and gold hand-knitted slight misshapen warm woolen socks.
"... but I think some traditions deserve to continue. Even if some people can't be there to celebrate anymore."
Harry handed Albus an open bottle of Butterbeer, which Albus took gently. The old man's eyes glistening brightly.
"Merry Christmas, Albus."
The only response Harry got for several minutes was a grateful hug.