The group flew back in silence following the night’s events. Harry did not speak again for several days. The amount of torture and the visions of pain he endured were too much to process and bear at once. He spent hours in his room, just staring off, remembering the duel. He knew it would be difficult to face Voldemort one-on-one, but he did not know how much he would suffer for it later. The Dark Lord was more powerful than Harry ever imagined, and it would surely take a miracle to beat him the next time they met.
The Order paid close attention to Harry over these few days, particularly Garrison. He was constantly asking Harry if he was alright or if he wanted something. Harry, taken aback at the sudden kindness from his harshest teacher, politely turned him down on each occasion. When he finally felt ready and confident enough to emerge from his room, he remembered Garrison once told him that he fought Voldemort. Curious, Harry looked for the man.
Unfortunately, Garrison had been called back to Hogwarts to teach a few more days. Harry would have to wait until the weekend. Harry returned to his room and took out several pieces of parchment. He wrote letters to Hermione, Ginny, and Ron, telling them that the final Horcrux was destroyed and that their problems were almost over. He intentionally left out all details of the duel between him and Voldemort, though he knew he would tell the story to them the next time they met.
Hedwig was more than happy to fly the messages to Hogwarts. She had been locked in her cage most of the time over the past couple months. As he watched her leave, Harry turned around to find Remus in the doorway.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked.
“Better,” Harry replied simply. Remus sat across from him on his bed.
“I know this is a hard time for you. There’s not much I or anyone else, for that matter, can say that will be of any comfort to you. You needed to know what you were up against, and you found out in the most effective, albeit dangerous way possible. You should have waited for the Order to assist you.”
Harry looked at the floor. The last thing he wanted at that moment was a lecture from a former professor, even one he thought highly of.
“In any case,” continued Remus, “you seemed to do well, so there’s no need for me to go on about what you should have done. What you did was further our cause and move us one step closer to not just ending the war, but winning it. It was a very bold and brave thing you did, Harry. Your father would have been proud.”
“Proud of me risking my life by going alone, or proud of the fact that I almost died?” asked Harry. “Or perhaps he would be proudest of the fact that this is still not over, and I’m the only one who can stop it? Not to mention that I couldn’t beat him.”
“Before you start berating yourself and others, let me ask you something. What was your main focus during that duel?”
“Staying alive,” Harry said, knowing it wasn’t the answer Remus was looking for.
“You know that’s not what I meant, Harry. In all seriousness, your focus was on the Horcrux, was it not?”
Harry nodded shortly.
“Then you should not worry about Voldemort overpowering you in the duel. Your focus was to destroy the Horcrux, and even though you had the biggest of obstacles in your way, you succeeded in doing that. Don’t you see, Harry? That’s why I’m confident you’ll do fine in the final duel. Once your mind is fully on Voldemort and nothing else, there will be nothing to stop you.”
Harry looked at his friend and mentor with a confident look on his face. He locked eyes with Remus, expressing his thanks for the words of wisdom without words of his own.
“I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” said Remus, standing. “I’m downstairs if you need anything.”
A few days later, Garrison came back from Hogwarts. The first thing he did was check on Harry.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’ll be better if I can talk to you,” Harry replied.
“What about?”
“Your past.”
Garrison froze for a moment, a look of worry crossing his face. Harry was not done yet, though.
“Your real job, and your encounter with Voldemort.”
“You don’t realize what you’re asking me, Harry,” Garrison said, his voice shaky.
“Look me in the face and say that again,” Harry dared. With all he had encountered in his seventeen years of life, there was no excuse Garrison could use to back out of this. And he didn’t. Instead, he sat down in the chair next to Harry’s desk and took a deep breath, his eyes closed. He seemed to be almost afraid to remember.
“I need to know what happened.”
“My story,” he began, then paused for a moment before continuing, “is not as simple as telling what happened when I fought Voldemort. It goes much deeper than you could possibly imagine.”
“Then tell me about it,” said Harry. “I think I’ve earned the right to know. And anything about Voldemort that I’m not aware of will be useful. I’ve waited long enough.”
“That you have,” said Garrison. “Alright, I’ll tell you my story. But you must understand this was a long time ago, and many things have changed.”
Harry took a seat next to his professor and waited for him to start. All throughout the school year, he had heard of this duel between Garrison and Voldemort. Now at last he would hear about it from the man who actually fought with the Dark Lord and lived.
“First of all, you need not have any doubts as to my profession. I have always been a Healer. Yes, I know as much, if not more, about the Dark Arts as the Aurors, but I have never been one of them. They have their reasons for wanting me to join them, and their reservations for not allowing me to.”
“Why are they split? Was there something that happened in your past?”
“Something...no. Someone, most likely.”
Garrison now had Harry’s undivided attention.
“There were two dark wizards before you were born, Harry. The one you’re fighting now, and the one I fought when I was younger. Voldemort was wicked, yes, but at least he is spoken of. The other is not even mentioned, as the Ministry denies his very existence. Yet I saw him. I saw what he did, and I’ve never forgotten the extent I went to in order to take my revenge.
“You remember I told you to watch your anger? I also had an issue with anger. My own problem began before I met this wizard. His name was Aethelmaer, and he took pleasure in making his kills as grotesque as possible. He was powerful; more powerful than any other wizard I’ve ever seen. He was also very physically imposing. He had broad shoulders, was very tall, and wore a thick brown robe that encompassed his entire body. The most you could see of him were his hands and his boots. His robes would go flying about whenever he would duel, and he was so efficient and deadly that he not only never lost, but was never hit. At that time, I was around nine, living with my parents in the heart of Scotland. We received word that he was near our area, so my parents sent me to my aunt’s for a while. I was so worried about them, I sneaked out my window and walked back home.
“I saw lights coming from my house through the window. I knew they weren’t natural, but magical. From the colors, I knew they were spells I hadn’t seen before, and I had a hunch from the sounds coming from the house they weren’t from my parents. I was so impulsive that, without thinking, I drew out my wand and blew open the door. My father was dueling Aethelmaer in the main room. As soon as the dark wizard saw me, he locked eyes with me and I could no longer move my body. Somehow, he was controlling me with his mind while still fighting my father. I noticed a bloodied heap lying to my right. My mother...I can’t describe it.”
“Avada Kedavra?” Harry asked.
“No. That would have been at least bearable. She was...torn to pieces. Her blood was everywhere. I couldn’t hold her. I could not say goodbye. I couldn’t bloody move. When my eyes went back to the duel, I saw my father fall. I saw which spells were used on my mother. The same outcome happened, and I wanted to scream. Aethelmaer came towards me, blood on his robes and an evil gleam in his eye. He asked me if I wanted to fight him as he released me from his spell. I tried to attack, but he put his hand in front of my face and sent me flying across the front lawn.
“When I woke up, he was no where in sight. I had no where to go, so I ran to the streets of Glasgow, where I grew up. There, I learned the darker side of magic. I was desperate to kill the man who took everything from me. I would harm innocent people just to practice my skills and grow as a student. Once I learned the Killing curse, I searched for Aethelmaer. He was not hard to find.
“I stood up to him, sending every curse I knew, which, for an eleven year old, is not much. He toyed with me for a while before knocking me unconscious again. My anger grew. Before I could find him a third time, an old wizard approached me. He invited me to his school.”
“Was that Dumbledore?” Harry asked, surprised.
“No, I did not meet Albus until I attended Hogwarts. He was a professor then. No, the man I met was the Headmaster at the time. They could both sense there was some reason for my anger, but neither one knew how much I had suffered. During my years there, I met several others whose passions matched my own. A boy by the name of Tom Riddle was one of my greatest allies. He was the best student at the Dark Arts by a large margin. I trusted him, so I told him my story. Tom, in turn, told me his. Our pasts were both deserving of vengeance. He told me that, since we were friends, he would help me get my revenge, so I aligned myself with him and a few others.
“Whenever school was out for the summer, Tom and I would go down the streets of London, Belfast, and other cities, terrorizing Muggles. We didn’t kill anyone, but we weren’t above torturing someone for crossing us the wrong way. Each time I performed those curses, my hatred grew. One person I was torturing actually never recovered, as I imagined it was Aethelmaer, and the power and rage that came out of my wand was too much for them to bear. Tom actually stopped me that time, saying we had to leave. I didn’t hear the sirens and alarms going off around us. I was too focused. I wanted my revenge.
“Tom noticed the power in me, and the rage that fueled my actions. He made it a point to tutor me. He taught me everything he knew. I quickly became the second best student in the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, second only to Tom. We were practically inseparable. No one would anger us while we were attending school, either, as they knew where one of us was, the other wasn’t far off. Our reputation was well known throughout the school, even to the professors. I won’t go into too much detail, but Tom was not the only one questioned by Dumbledore.”
“If you were such a troublemaker, why did they ask you to teach this year?”
“Haven’t you noticed the year I’m teaching is the one after Albus passed on? He had his reasons. Once we were out of school, Tom changed his name to Voldemort. We who were associated with Voldemort called ourselves Death Eaters and began raising havoc and fear in the Wizarding world. I was his second in command, his most trusted accomplice. Wherever Voldemort was, I was at his side. He trusted me more than any other individual. For a time, we were like brothers, always watching the other’s back and making sure those beneath us were scared to challenge us. For two people so obsessed with power and hate, we shared a bond in searching for more of both.
“Shortly after he rose in power, Voldemort came to me and told me he had begun hunting for Aethelmaer. True to his word, he found him and told me first. He swore to me that he would not kill him until I was finished taking my revenge. By this time, the dark wizard was seldom seen. Old age had taken an ill turn for him, and he was actually quite pitiful to behold, knowing his former glory.
“The other Death Eaters tried to corner Aethelmaer down an alley. At first, he was surprised, but once the shock was over, so were the lives of several of our allies as well. Lucius, a student at Hogwarts at the time, told us they were in need of our help, as they were falling fast. Voldemort and I Apparated quickly to the site. Amidst the pile of bodies and limbs that was growing higher, I saw that familiar robe twirling as the old man was spinning. Spells shot from his wand two or three at a time. I never knew how he did it.
“The group of Death Eaters separated as Voldemort and I walked straight up to him. He took one look at me and grinned. He started taunting me, but Voldemort used a spell that shut his mouth permanently. An impressed look crossed his face as he started circling us, each on either side of him. At first, Aethelmaer was faster than both of us, constantly blocking our spells and deflecting them at the remaining Death Eaters, hitting them rather efficiently. Finally, one of my spells hit him in the back, severing his spinal cord. He groaned as he fell to the ground. That’s when I grabbed his wand from his hand and snapped it right in front of him.
“What happened next was something I should not have done, but I wanted vengeance for what happened to my parents. I took it. I took every last bit of it out of that old wizard. I put him through so much pain that I think Voldemort pitied him. My only focus was the subject of my hate and anger as I shot every spell and curse I knew at him. I even used his signature spells for dismemberment on him to drive home my point. After each limb was lost, I used a potion I’d been storing for years to cauterize the wounds in the most painful way possible to keep him alive for as long as I could.
“When he was nothing more than a head and torso, I stopped for a moment. I dropped the wand and walked towards him. For the first and only time in his life, I saw fear in his eyes. I started kicking him. I took out all my frustrations in that moment, sending him into walls and breaking every remaining bone in his body. I even beat him with his now severed limbs. Exhausted from the amount of energy I had used and hatred that was relieved, I stepped back from the broken, battered, and bloodied wizard. That’s when Voldemort said those fateful two words: his first murder. He told the rest of the Death Eaters to leave, but asked me to stay. As his most trusted friend, he wanted to show me something he learned. Pulling out his father’s ring, he placed it on the now lifeless body of Aethelmaer and began chanting.
“The words were neither English nor Parseltongue: it was something else, something more evil than anything I’d ever heard before. I started shivering from the aura Voldemort had around him. He started convulsing, yet he still chanted in that dark voice. An orange duplicate of himself emerged from him, looking more like a silhouette, only one surrounded by darkness, as all other light in the alleyway had diminished. The silhouette detached itself from Voldemort and started to become absorbed by the ring. This took place over a matter of seconds, but it seemed like hours. To be in the presence of something so dark and terrifying was unbelievable. Then it was over.
“The next several years resulted in several more killings. Voldemort seemed determined to make Horcruxes out of seven different murders. He was obsessed with it. I started to question his reasons with each new victim. With Aethelmaer, I had a reason to hate and to kill, but after that score was settled, there was no point to it. I saw Voldemort become less human with each killing. His skin became paler, his hair started falling out, and his eyes became more serpentine. Even his voice changed. He wasn’t the wizard I first thought he was. He had become an unstoppable embodiment of evil. I grew to fear him as much as his other followers.
“One night, he came to my home unexpectedly. He was enraged by some failure of one of his Death Eaters. Apparently, there was some prophecy made about him that the servant was supposed to overhear, but didn’t hear the whole thing before he was discovered and thrown out. He told me he was tired and felt sick. He wanted to rest, but he had to make sure this prophecy did not come true. Voldemort said he had come too close to immortality, his ultimate dream, to give up now and let some child take it away from him. He asked me for advice.
“I told him I didn’t want to be a part of his regime any longer. It was difficult enough to watch him kill, but also to see his soul dissolve, making him a fragment of the man he once was. I explained how, though I was eternally grateful for his help in my vengeance, I wanted to stop. I wanted to say goodbye and leave. He was not pleased. It was the only time I saw a tear fall from one of his eyes. He told me how much this hurt him, and that he felt he was losing the only friend he ever truly had. With that, he turned to leave.
“Just before walking out the door, I placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. I wanted us to part ways on good terms. As soon as he turned around, his wand was in his hand and the look of compassion was replaced by a look of the deepest pain and hatred I had ever seen. He said I was betraying him and that he could not allow me to live a life aside from his right-hand man. He started shooting curses at me. I was caught off guard at first, and they hurt. He said more things to me, taunts about my family and past. For a friend, he should have known better. My anger came back, and I fought him off.
“The power of my hate was so intense that my house was blown to bits as we fought mercilessly for what must have been an hour. His hate matched my own. He taught me everything he knew, so it was like fighting a mirror for both of us. We each knew the other so well that for most of the time, there was no clear winner. He finally got a measure of advantage over me when he put me under the blinding spell, much as he did during your previous duel. I was surprised, and in that instant, I felt more pain than I ever knew was possible. He threw everything he could at me to make me suffer. He even threw in a few of his own original spells, which I’d imagine he did during your encounter as well. It was his way of repaying my betrayal to him. I could feel his hatred coursing through my body like it was my own blood, which was no doubt all over the room by now.
“Fighting it off, I fled the house, running anywhere. I tripped over everything, ran into walls, but I had to get away. I had seen Voldemort’s routine and knew how it ended. I ran into a couple men, who knocked me unconscious. When I awoke, I was still under the blinding spell. I was also very angry. All the memories he replayed in my head had unleashed the restraint I had on myself, and I was enraged. There were many voices around me, questioning me about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I told them I did not know where they were at that moment, and I didn’t care. Voldemort was the one who put me through this much pain, and I would find him to pay him back.
“They lifted the blinding spell and told me they were the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Two of them, Sirius Black and James Potter, had spotted me and recognized me as Voldemort’s second in command, thus the reason I was at their secret headquarters. Neither man was very trusting, and for good reason. James and Sirius had several encounters in their past that gave them the reputation of being the interrogators of the Order. They gave me truth serum and drilled me with questions. Twice. They were not normally cruel, but with a suspected agent of the Dark Lord in front of them, they did not hold back on insults.
“Once they were satisfied that I was who I said I was, they cleared out of the room. I sat there for at least a day before another face came in. This one was familiar: Albus. The first thing he told me was that, while he remembered me from my days at Hogwarts, I would never have his trust, just as Tom wouldn’t. He always called Voldemort Tom. He saw the pain in me and the anger. He told me it would be a problem for me for the rest of my life unless I learned to control it, and even then, there was no guarantee that, if provoked, it would not come back. Albus sat right in front of me and gave me a look that made even me a bit scared. He told me that if I ever betrayed the Order that he would personally find me and make sure I stayed in Azkaban for the remainder of my life. He also guaranteed that Voldemort would fall. Since I had spoken of a desire to kill Voldemort, he made a deal with me. It was more of an ultimatum, to be exact. Either I teamed with the Order strictly to find and kill Voldemort, and in so doing I was able to stay at their headquarters, or I left and was never welcomed back. Naturally I teamed with them, partly for my anger and partly because I was being given a second chance from a group that did not encourage loyalty through fear, but choice.
“I stayed there for several weeks, learning about the different members. James and Lily were married, and Lily was a few months pregnant with their first child. Dumbledore was now Headmaster of Hogwarts. Severus Snape, a Death Eater to my knowledge, was also a member of the Order. Seeing Dumbledore’s forgiving nature, I tried my best to prove myself to him and the rest, eventually asking to become a member of the Order. They agreed on the condition that I proved myself out in the field.
“I went with James, Sirius, and several others on a mission against some of the Death Eaters. Things were going well until one of the Death Eaters summoned Voldemort. When he arrived, everything broke down. He started shouting every curse in the book at myself and the Order members. Here was my chance for revenge against the Dark Lord, though, so I started shouting curses at him. He reflected them at the different Order members, killing all but James and Sirius. When I realized what I had done, I Apparated back to headquarters.
“When James and Sirius returned, they started hitting me, saying I had betrayed their trust. I never intended for things to happen the way they did, but because of my anger, I was responsible for betraying the Order. I told them I did not want to say goodbye to two of the best men I knew in this manner, but if it was what they wanted, I would leave. Two days later, I was on my own. Before I left, I went to each of them. James was the first I saw. He was still angry, but civil. I told him that if there was anything I could do for him as a favor to repay my debt, I would gladly do it. He looked at me and said that if I was ever needed to defend his son, then I should return to do so. Sirius found me just before I walked out the door and told me to stay on the lookout. There was talk that Voldemort would make a move soon, and they may need me to end it after all, even though I was a wild card. Albus came up behind him. He told me to leave and never return to the Order again. My help was not needed. So I left.
“I thought I would be lost, and for a time I was. One day, however, in Knockturn Alley, I heard a couple dark figures talking about a prophecy and they mentioned the name Potter. I knew instantly that James was in trouble, and I would do anything to save his family and redeem myself. I Apparated to Godric’s Hollow as quickly as I could. But I was too late. The home of James and Lily Potter was completely destroyed. I felt so ashamed that I started digging through the rubble, trying to find some trace of them still left. Sirius came up behind me, telling me that he appreciated my concern, but that James and Lily were gone. I asked where you were, Harry, and he told me that Hagrid was taking you to your nearest relatives.
“Sirius shook my hand and told me that he believed what happened before was an accident, but that I should lay low for a while. The Order would know of my allegiance and call on me if the need was great enough. Before he left, I vowed to protect you should your path ever cross mine. He looked at me with a solemn smile and said that we shared a common goal. That was the last time I saw him. After he left, as a way of proving to him and myself that I could change, I used as much of my power as I could gather and rebuilt the Potters’ home exactly as it was. I suspect that’s what you saw when you went there, Harry. After that, I fled London, returned to Scotland and refused to use any magic.
“I felt so alone in those years for a time, until I met the most remarkable woman. This part of the story is not something you need to know, but I will tell you that her name was Tara and she was a Muggle visiting my country. We fell for one another, and were engaged to be married when a visit from a former Death Eater changed my mind. I realized that, with them still at large, albeit hidden, I could not have the life I wanted with her. So I asked her to leave. I told her that in ten years, regardless if my conscience is clear, I would return to her. She didn’t understand, and told me she couldn’t promise me anything, as ten years was a long time. We parted ways. That was nearly ten years ago.
“This is it for me, Harry. I’ve come this far, and I don’t want to go any further than I have to. I put my life on hold to fight this for far too long. As soon as this is over, for better or worse, I get my life back.”
The two wizards sat in silence for a moment. Harry wanted to say something, but could not think of what. He wanted it to be funny, or wise, or compassionate, but that story had robbed him of words. Never before had he heard of such pain. Garrison’s story matched his own in many ways, and Harry saw pieces of himself in it. He also saw a side of his enemy that he never knew existed.
“Well,” said Garrison after a while, “I’m sure there’s something that needs to be done with the Order. I’ll check in with Minerva.”
Garrison stood and walked to the door. He paused for a moment, then turned around and faced Harry.
“You have a difficult task, Harry, but it’s not impossible. If you could fight him before while your focus was on the Horcrux and not your opponent, you should do fine. Know though, man to man, that I will stand beside you to whatever end befalls us. Oh, and just to inform you, we’re restart your training to make sure you are ready for the final time.”
“Professor,” said Harry, waiting for an opportune moment to speak, “would it be too much to ask you if you would help me in my training?”
“Perhaps I will, but we’ll wait for that. Rest for now. You’ll need it.”
“I know what I’ll be facing,” said Harry.
“That was just the first round of training,” warned Garrison. “There’s more to be learned than just that. What’s coming up will make your previous training look like the classes during your first year at Hogwarts.”
Harry Potter & The Silhouette Of Eternal Benevolence by JourneyJosh
Chapter Notes: After the events of the last chapter, Harry goes to his former professor, the Healer Garrison, and asks him to tell his story about the duel with Voldemort. What starts as a simple question turns into a confession of Garrison's past, and how much he truly is linked to the Boy Who Lived.