“Yes,” Molly answered quickly. “He mentioned something about the Prophecy, something like he’d never tell it. He spoke of the Death Eaters and said that if they were organised better he would know what it said. He also said he’d never give in, if that means anything.”
“Has it been his voice throughout? Or has it…changed at all?”
Everyone in the room looked blank except Ron, who looked fearfully at Dumbledore and answered “No.”
Dumbledore sighed. “Very well.”
Moving closer to Harry, he knelt down beside him and held his hand. “Harry?” he called softly. “Harry, if you can hear me, come back to us. If you cannot escape from him, give us some sign you can hear me.” Harry didn’t move. “Harry, come back to us now,” Dumbledore repeated, more sternly this time. “Break from him and come back.”
Everyone in Grimmauld Place was silent; everyone was watching Harry with a mixture of fear and confusion, save Dumbledore alone who looked perfectly calm.
“No!” Harry screamed. “This isn’t real; it’s a trick! This isn’t happening!” Dumbledore went rigid. A few seconds of silence followed before Harry whispered “No, please no.”
As if broken out of a trance, Dumbledore stood up and drew his wand. Harry let out a high, piecing scream.
“What are you doing?” gasped Ginny. “What the hell are you doing?!”
Without answering, Dumbledore flicked his wand and a loud crack echoed around the room. Harry, still lying on the floor, retched and cried out in pain.
“Stop it!” Ginny, Ron and Hermione shouted together.
“Can’t you see it’s hurting him?” yelled Lupin.
Dumbledore acted as if he couldn’t hear them. Looking down at Harry, Dumbledore raised his wand twice more, each time he flicked the end, a loud crack followed by Harry’s desperate screams reverberated around the room. Everyone present fell silent, gaping at Dumbledore’s apparent madness and loss of control. Not one of them, though, could bring themselves to intervene.
As the third crack faded, along with Harry’s screams, Dumbledore twisted round and walked out the room. For the second time in less than ten minutes, he left a stunned silence behind him.
From the floor, Harry coughed and looked up. “What happened?” he croaked.
“Harry!” Mrs Weasley cried, throwing herself at him. “You’re alright! For a while back there we all thought…”
Ignoring this last comment Harry continued urgently. “Dumbledore. Where’s he? He was here a moment ago; it could only have been him. No one else could have had the power…” his voice fading into silence.
“Ummmm, Dumbledore left a few moments ago, Harry.” Arthur volunteered carefully. “He, well, he…” looking uneasily around him.
“Where did he go?” Harry asked, pulling himself upright.
“Maybe it’s better if you stayed here for a while, Harry. So you can…recover.” Lupin broke in.
“You’re not going anywhere, boy,” cut in Moody’s growling voice.
“Don’t mess with me, guys. I’ve got to see him.”
Glancing at the door, Hermione whispered “Maybe now’s not the time Harry.”
In an exact copy of Dumbledore himself, Harry also twisted round and walked out the room.
“Harry! No…”
The door slammed behind him.
“Do we follow him?” Tonks asked.
“Too right,” Moody answered. “Not when Dumbledore’s like he is.”
“Yeah!” cried Fred. “We’ve got to find Harry!” Murmurs of agreement came from nearly everyone else.
“No!” Lupin cut in. “No. We shouldn’t follow him.”
“Why ever not?” came the confused answer.
“Because…” Lupin hesitated, “…because he didn’t mean to hurt Harry. Did any of you see his face?” Everyone shook their heads. “I didn’t think so. Well, I did. And I’ve never seen Dumbledore look the way he did then. Not even when Lily and James died. Dumbledore hasn’t lost his mind, he was protecting Harry. No, I don’t know what he did, I don’t know what was going on with Harry, I don’t even know what spell he used, but I know he was helping Harry.”
“I do,” whispered Hermione.
“What?” snapped Moody.
“I said, I do know what spell he used. Dumbledore, I mean. It’s really difficult to do, some people say it isn’t even a real spell as it requires so much power and they believe no one could ever summon the strength of feelings to use it. It’s called the Remittomissum charm, and it means ‘to send back’. It’s designed to force back things where ordinary spells can’t work, like if something unimaginably powerful is in someone’s mind,” she continued.
“I found it in ‘Spells Founded in Theory but Never Proved’ if you want to know; and it’s supposed to cause pain to both people involved, although more so to the attacker. There wasn’t anything else except a note saying it could never be achieved as there was no incantation for it. That’s all I know,” she finished.
A shocked silence followed this. It was Ron who finally broke the tension.
“Hermione, is there anything you don’t know?”
“I thought you’d come, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly.
Dumbledore was in the front room of Grimmauld Place, his head in his hands, looking older than he ever had in his life.
Shutting the door again behind him, Harry walked over to the headmaster, stunned at what had just happened. Without looking at him, Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at the door. “It’s nothing Harry, I’m not trying to keep you in here,” he said quietly, seeing Harry’s uneasy expression. “All I’ve done is put a secrecy charm on the door. That way we cannot be overheard if someone interrupts us. It is more for my sake than yours, I’m afraid.”
Harry waited. For several seconds, Dumbledore said nothing. He then seemed to gather himself together and looked directly at Harry. There was nothing, Harry realised, no small smile, no twinkle in his eyes, just fear and sadness. It made Harry more afraid than at any other time of his life.
“Shall I start first or do you want to?” he asked gently.
“I will,” answered Harry. He spoke of everything that had happened; his dreams of Sirius all summer, his pain at returning to Grimmauld Place and, most importantly, what had happened barely five minutes ago.
“Very well,” Dumbledore said when he finished. “It is my turn now. Please, just listen to me. Make your own opinions about me afterwards. Tell whoever you like what I’ve said. I will not stop you.”
Dumbledore stood up, turned his back on Harry, and walked over to the empty fireplace. He stood there, trance like again, for several minutes. Harry waited silently. It was so unlike Dumbledore to turn his back on him, that Harry realised that there was some huge internal battle going on inside his headmaster. Never before had he seen Dumbledore looking as afraid as he did now.
“Professor?” Harry asked quietly.
“Sorry, Harry.” Dumbledore replied, coming back to sit where he had before. “Please sit down.
“When Nymphadora Tonks contacted me shortly after your arrival at Headquarters, I can honestly say I was not overly concerned. To be perfectly honest with you, I was expecting Voldemort to make some attempt to gain access to your mind as soon as you left the protection of Privet Drive. This was only a suspicion, though, and I hoped that your departure from there would go unnoticed. Another of my mistakes,” he added quietly.
“Anyway, when I reached Headquarters, I felt that the wards I have put around it would be sufficient to stop most attempts to penetrate through the walls to you. Again, I was wrong, and I did not fully realise your danger until it was nearly too late.”
Dumbledore sighed before he continued, looking at Harry directly. “When I arrived, I attempted to call you back. No wizard in the world has ever been as proficient in Legilimency as Lord Voldemort. This meant that whereas usually an external force, such as another person, can break the contact formed during Legilimency, this time Lord Voldemort managed to block forcefully any attempt I made to bring you back. As soon as I realised this, I was aware that there were only two ways to break his power.”
Harry sat motionless, very aware of his wildly beating heart. “Go on,” he breathed.
“One of those ways is to kill either the Legilimens themselves, or their victim. As you know, I cannot destroy Voldemort and sacrificing you is, obviously, out of the question. This left me only one option. The option I chose was the Remittomissum charm. The spell is designed to force out any presence in another’s mind. I’m not even sure if the charm is legal to perform, but that is irrelevant as I knew it was the only way to save you.”
“The spell,” Dumbledore continued, “is very violent, causing extreme pain to anyone it is directed at although less so on the victim than on their attacker. As it happens, the charm will have weakened Voldemort considerably for some time.”
Dumbledore shuddered involuntary. “I am truly sorry, Harry. I had no wish at all to inflict any more pain on you. If anything like this ever happens again, please let myself or another member of the Order know. As for today, I will tell no one of what you told me, and that includes the rest of the Order. If you wish to tell them, however, you are more than welcome to do so.”
“I couldn’t cope at the end. It was like I was drowning. I was about to give up until you…” Harry’s voice faded into a sob. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“You are welcome, Harry,” Dumbledore replied quietly. Harry buried his head in his hands, unable to contain his emotions any longer. When he next looked up, Dumbledore had gone.
A/N: Remitto [missum] is a Latin verb meaning ‘to send back’, I didn’t just make it up : )
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