The fortress of Nair'i'caix was a mess. Healers were rushing to and from the large halls of the castle, where triage areas had been hastily set up to deal with the wounded that were coming in from the ruined Order headquarters. All activity ceased, however, when a group of sorcerers appeared, Harry in their midst, carrying the body of Albus Dumbledore. Everyone, from healers to ice soldiers and Trazkaban sorcerers paused as they watched them carry the old headmaster away from the triage area in silence. Hermione came skidding into the room, only to stop dead in her tracks, her jaw hanging open in disbelief.
"Harry?" she whispered as he walked past. Uncharacteristically for him, he turned down a corner, ignoring everyone else. The brunette hurried after him, finding him just out of sight of the main hall, leaning against the wall. "Harry?" she repeated.
"Damn." Hermione jumped as Harry turned around and punched the wall. He hauled back to punch it again when she reached out and took hold of his arm before he hurt himself.
"What happened, Harry?" she asked him softly. She'd only managed to get a brief explanation from Fred and George that the Order headquarters had been attacked.
It took a while for him to compose himself, and Hermione looked on in concern at the shrouded look in her friend's eyes. "Someone betrayed the Order," he told her quietly, "and they got ambushed. Voldemort wanted to send a message. We've got two days before he attacks the Ministry."
"Merlin! What about the headmaster?"
Harry shrugged. "I assume he dueled Voldemort. There wasn't much left of the room they were fighting in." Tilting his head back, he leaned back against the wall and sighed in resignation. "Damn." He didn't know whether to feel frustrated, angry, or sad. The headmaster was gone, and while Harry hadn't especially been fond of him lately, he hadn't wanted him dead.
"Milord!" Both teenagers turned around at Tess's voice. The girl came running down the hall, a healer from the ice people in tow. "Milord, Master Healer Revan needs to talk to you urgently!"
The man that followed Tess was tall and had the same pale complexion as most ice people. He was dressed in a long white robe that indicated his status as a doctor, and carried with him a book full of notes. "Lord Polairix," he greeted Harry with a nod.
"What is it?" Harry blinked in confusion, uncertain of what was going on. "Shouldn't you be with the other healers in the grand hall?"
"I was, milord, when they brought in Headmaster Dumbledore." Revan frowned for a moment before continuing. "I noticed that his body was still warm when they carried it in, and decided to investigate. To my surprise, I found that he was not dead, milord."
"Not dead?" Hermione and Harry echoed in disbelief.
"No, he is quite alive. Gravely injured from numerous dark curses, but alive nonetheless. He is in a coma, milord, his vital functions somehow slowed down so much that it appears he is almost dead." The healer gestured for them to follow as he turned around and led the way back into the depths of the castle.
"A coma?" Hermione asked, surprised.
"Not exactly, more along the lines of suspended animation," Revan corrected himself. "It is rather remarkable, it appears he placed himself in it, because he should be dead on account of his wounds, but with his heart and respiratory system slowed down, he has managed to stay alive."
Harry looked over at Hermione as they fell in step with the healer. "Have you ever heard of anything like that happening?"
"Not that I know of."
They reached the room Dumbledore had been moved to, and Harry stared in surprise at the healers and nurses that were moving around the room, casting diagnostics spells and discussing possible cures and potions that might help. The whole situation rather surprised Harry, considering all the injured that had been brought in from the attack on the Order, and he stopped Healer Revan from moving in to join them. "There's so many healers here," Harry asked, "who's left to tend to the wounded in the main hall?"
Revan blinked in confusion before replying. "I think a half-dozen healers are handling the injured. We figured that taking are of a great mage like Albus Dumbledore would be much more important, since he's a more valuable asset to the fight against Voldemort."
Harry frowned. "A half-dozen? There must be thirty healers and nurses in here! Get them back to work on the injured in the grand hall, right now."
"But milord-"
"Dumbledore is stable, right?"
"Well, yes-"
"Then get them back to work!" Harry yelled.
"But-"
Harry lost control of his already frayed temper and grabbed the healer by the front of his robes. "Listen to me carefully. In fact, all of you listen carefully," he said loudly. "No one, I repeat, no one is more important than anyone else in this fight. Every single person is important, because if we begin to believe some are better than others, we're exactly where Voldemort is right now. Now get the hell back to the grand hall and take care of the injured like you swore you did when you took your healer's oath!"
The effect was immediate. The nurses and healers scattered and hurried out of the room, trying to get away from the irritated Lord Polairix. Revan himself took a step back, only to realize that Harry was still holding on to the front of his robes.
"Milord…" the healer began.
Harry didn't let go, taking deep, shuddering breaths until a woman's hand gently pried loose the fingers he'd clenched in the fabric of Revan's robes. "Shh. It's all right, Harry." Bella muttered into his ear.
"Bella?"
"I heard you yelling from the other side of the castle," the black-haired witch smirked.
"We were busy coordinating the strike teams at the Ministry with General Rotan and Shacklebolt with the new information Moody provided. I came as soon as I heard they'd brought in Dumbledore."
"Well, turns out he isn't quite dead, after all," Harry sighed heavily.
"That's a good thing, right?" Hermione asked from the sidelines.
Harry shrugged. "I hope so. I mean, I'm not particularly fond of him, but he's fighting for the right cause. And as much as I hate to admit it, we need his help. And he's the figurehead of the 'light,' so if we lost him…"
"Bad things would happen," Hermione agreed. "It's bad enough that he's in a coma and close to death. Voldemort must've done quite a number on him."
"Yeah, but he went down fighting. The room they duelled in was all but destroyed, torn down to the foundation, despite all the magical wards and supports in Number 12, Grimmauld."
"Uh… milord?" Revan made himself known again. The three turned towards the ice healer.
"Oh, right, the old man," Harry realized. "So, what's the state he's in?"
"Like I said before, milord, he's stable for now, and unconscious, much like a comatose state. The injuries he suffered are numerous, and mostly magical in nature. He is leaking magical energy slowly, and nothing we've tried so far has worked to stop it," Revan explained.
"So what happens if it keeps going?"
"He will eventually die. It's much like a slow wound that bleeds out and festers. When wizards loose their magical energy without being able to replenish it, it has much the same effect as bleeding out." Revan sighed. "It must have been caused by a very complex combination of dark curses, because even the most powerful healing potions and spells we have tried have had no effect. In fact, a wound like this is very rare. We have very little experience in it."
"How long does he have?" Bella asked, staring down at the old wizard, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Hard to say." Revan shrugged helplessly. "If he were anyone else, anyone less powerful, he would've been dead almost immediately. As it is, he's somehow managed to slow down his vital functions enough that the leak has slowed down, as well. At the current rate, maybe two days. Three at most. It's really hard to tell."
"And there's nothing you can do?"
"Not at this stage, milady. I'm the only one out of the healers here who has seen such a condition before, and only once."
Harry turned around to stare at the healer grimly. "What happened to that patient?"
"He died wthin three hours."
"Any chance he's going to wake up before then?" Harry and Bella shared a quick glance. They both realized that Dumbledore had been their best shot at trying to figure out how to break through the ward surrounding the Rod of Dominion. "I'll get on it immediately," Bella told him.
"Take Hermione with you, she'll be able to help you," Harry added. The two women nodded and left the room, leaving Harry and Revan alone with Dumbledore's still body. Revan muttered a quick diagnostics spell before excusing himself to go look after the other injured, which left Harry alone in the room.
The young lord of Polairix stared down at Dumbledore for several long moments, trying to sort through his thoughts. "I'd love to say you got what you deserved, Dumbledore. After all you've done to me, you certainly do. But like I told Hermione, I can't afford to get angry right now. If I get angry at you, I'd have to be angry at the whole damn wizarding world. Sure, you made my life a living hell by condemning me to Azkaban, but you were only the catalyst. The entirety of the wizarding world was the one who collectively turned their backs on me. You… you just made things worse by starting them off. And what's worse, we need your help, now more than ever."
Harry glanced at Dumbledore's wand that the recovery teams had found and placed on a table next to the ancient headmaster's bed. "You know what? That's a lie. I'm angry. I'm so very angry, I almost wish you'd die. I'm so angry I almost let Voldemort have a go at the wizarding world, and this time you wouldn't be able to stop him. I'm tired, Dumbledore. I'm sick and tired of playing the hero, of playing the incorruptible saint that I have to be, because everything I do, every decision I make, is debated, scrutinized, and criticized by people who haven't a clue on how to do a better job. And you know what? I'm sick of it. I'm only human. They expect that they can treat me like trash whenever they feel like it and I'll still come to the rescue. I have my limits, Dumbledore. Like every freakin' human being on this planet, I have my limit. And you almost crossed the line. In fact, for a time, you did. I swear, if it hadn't been for Bella, I would've turned my back on the wizarding world."
The young wizard let out a bitter laugh. "You know what's sad?" Dumbledore naturally didn't reply, but Harry continued anyway. "What's sad is that Bella, someone I thought I'd sell my soul to get a chance to kill, is the one who redeemed me. And you know how that happened? Because she showed me that despite almost overwhelming evil, despite whatever she'd done in her past, she'd found her way back to doing what's right. After everything she did, all the people who hated her… she still found the strength to turn around and say, 'the hell with Voldemort, it's time I did what's right.' And you know what? I don't think these people deserve what we're doing for them. They're letting others fight their war for them, good men and women who're dying and getting no recognition from the wizarding world whatsoever. I truly believe the wizarding world would be better off dying out than continuing on its self-centered egotistical path it's on, but I'm trying to do what's right. I'm trying…" Harry trailed off as he wiped at the tears leaking from his eyes angrily.
"You have no idea how close you came to being utterly annihilated, Dumbledore. I'm sick and tired of pulling the wizarding world's ass out of the fire and getting this… this crap in return every time. Every year! First year I was lauded a hero. Second year I was the menace, the heir to Slytherin. Third year I was back to being a hero who needed to be protected from his godfather, whom no one had bothered to check with veritaserum! Fourth year…" Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "Fourth year, I was the insane kid with an attention-seeking complex. Did you know the things Umbridge did to us? She made us write lines with a blood quill . A blood quill! These things are considered illegal dark artifacts! And don't even get me started on the rest of my fifth year - that whole mess could've been avoided, and Sirius would still be alive, if you'd goddamn trusted me! But no, I always was the little kid to you, someone who you had to protect, despite the fact that I always ended up doing your dirty work for you! You kept so many things from me, ignored what I tried to tell you so many times. You'd figure after everything I've been through, after everything I've faced, I'd earned just a little respect!"
Harry slowed down, taking deep breaths to calm down. "And then this! First Sirius, and then me. It seems you never check people with Vritaserum these days, despite the fact that that's exactly what it's for. And I didn't even get a chance to properly defend myself, unless you call those three words I could say before Fudge cut me off a defense! I'm sensing a pattern here, you know," he spat bitterly to the face of the unresponsive headmaster.
"The wizarding world needs a wake-up call. It needs to figure out that it can't continue with its xenophobic, self-centered ways, because if it does, it will eventually end up with more enemies than just Voldemort. And you know what's worse? Tom Riddle is your fault! That's what you tell everyone, but you're just making an excuse for the wizarding world. Sure, you ignored him and kept sending him back to the orphanage over the summer, despite him telling you not to, but in the end, Tom Riddle was a product of his environment. You're surprised why Voldemort turned out the way he did? Be more surprised I didn't turn out the way he did, with the way the world keeps changing its opinion of me on the drop of a hat! I'm sick of it, Dumbledore, so damn sick of it. But I can't go around and say 'this better be worth it,' because I know it won't be. The wizarding world will just continue on the way it's been, and all this will have been for nothing. It'll keep going until one day, there won't be anyone to save it, and that's the day the wizarding world is going to die."
His tirade done, Harry turned around to leave the room, only stopping to say a few last words. "But you know what? Whenever the wizarding world is going to end, it won't be now. Because I'll do everything in my power to stop Voldemort. Not for you, not for Hermione. Not because it's the right thing to do. No, I'm doing it for myself. For my parents. For Sirius. For all the friends and family Voldemort has taken from me. Just goddamn once, just this once, I'm going to be selfish. And if the wizarding world doesn't like it, well, tough luck." Harry took a deep breath. "This one's for me, old man. For me, and Bella, and our child. I know Voldemort outguns me. He's got way more experience, and logically, I should roll over and die. But you know what? The hell with him. The hell with you . I'll do whatever's in my power to stop him, and I'll laugh at the irony that you have Bella to thank for that."
He was about to leave when a sound caught his attention. With a roar of flame, Fawkes appeared in the center of the room within a sheath of fire, accompanied by notes of Phoenix song. Green eyes widened in surprise, since Harry hadn't seen Fawkes in years, yet now the bird was there, soaring across the room, before finally settling on the table next to Dumbledore's bed. The Phoenix cocked its head to the side as it stared at Harry intently with its black eyes, before trilling and leaping over to settle on Harry's shoulder. Fawkes nipped at Harry's ear and trilled happily, as if greeting an old friend, and Harry found himself stroking the bird's magnificient feathers.
"Hey, Fawkes," Harry managed once the surprise had faded. The bird sang in reply, and Harry found the depression and irrational anger fade. Fawkes peered into his eyes, and he could see understanding in the Phoenix's gaze, almost as if he'd listened to Harry's tirade and was telling him that it was all right. Fawkes sang for a few more moments, before settling down on Dumbledore's chest and shedding a few tears. The bird made its self comfortable, and began singing again, a different song this time, one that changed Harry's awareness of the room. He could almost feel the intangible magic in the castle, the indeterminable lines of power that permeated the walls and halls of the fortress that converged on him, the master of Nair'i'caix. And then he suddenly became aware of the energy flowing out of Dumbledore. And just as quickly, it slowly stopped, then reversed direction.
The whole song lasted only seconds, but to Harry, it felt almost like an eternity, and when it ended, he was snapped back to reality so suddenly he almost thought he'd imagined the whole experience, but Fawke's presence confirmed that it'd been real. He was confused as to what it meant, but considering the Phoenix's incredible healing abilities, he wouldn't put it past Fawkes to be able to heal Dumbledore.
"Harry!" Bella's voice came down the corridor, causing him to divert his attention from the Phoenix. The urgency in his wife's tone coupled with the fact that she'd just left caused a sinking feeling in Harry's gut - something he was rapidly becoming intimately familiar with.
The dark-haired witch came barreling around the corner and down into the room, barely sparing Fawkes a second glance, before tugging on Harry's sleeves. "We've got a problem, Harry. Someone tried to kill the Weasley twins right under all our noses."
The young lord of Polairix's eyes widened in shocked surprise. "What? What happened?"
"We're not sure, come on, we just found them in the library."
Harry gestured for Bella to lead the way and followed, only to stop and glance back at Fawkes. "Sorry, I've got to go." The bird looked up in understanding, and flew up to perch himself in the rafters, as if telling Harry that he'd still be there when he got back. Turning back to his wife, Harry rushed after Bella as she led him to the library, passing a number of healers and soldiers on the way. He ignored most of them until they reached the library, and skidded to a halt at the sight that presented itself to him.
Fred and George were stretched out on the ground, apparently having moved from wherever they'd been found so that the swarm of healers and nurses that were working on them could have an easier time. It wasn't too hard to figure out where the twins had been found, because two large puddles of blood stained the wooden floor halfway across the room, and Harry almost gagged at the sheer amount of blood that had half-dried on the ground.
Pushing their way through the throng of people working on the twins, Harry managed to get a good look at them before stepping back to allow a nurse to move in and place a bandage on George's head. Aside from the nasty headwound the nurse was in the process of dressing - a long gash that went well around from his forehead across his temple - George had a number of stab wounds that had mostly been mended, and that now were only indicated by holes in his shirt.
Fred was by far worse off than his brother. Where George's wounds were relatively easily healed by potions and skin-mending spells, Fred's skin was looking brittle and was discolored a sickly yellow, as a thick, ichory liquid oozed from breaks in the skin all over his arms and legs. Dark spots like bruises were visible on his exposed torso, and his left hand was completely missing up to halfway up his forearm. Harry felt positively sick when he saw the missing appendage sitting on a nearby table, with a nurse next to it, probably to keep it in good condition so that it could eventually be re-attached.
Then the smell hit him. The coppery scent of blood he was familiar with, but the stench coming off the pus leaking out of Fred's skin was worse than anything he'd ever smelled, including the smell of burning flesh Harry had experienced not an hour ago. He turned around and threw up, retching and heaving as his stomach protested. A few moments later, he could feel Bella's soothing hand on his back as she steadied him. She muttered a quick cleaning spell, causing the mess on the ground to vanish.
"Thanks," Harry muttered weakly.
"You're welcome." Bella managed a small smile as she turned him around and walked him out of the room. "Sorry, I should've warned you."
"It's all right. What… what the hell happened?"
"When Hermione and I left, we went to the library to keep looking for ways to break that ward. We found them like that, and called the medics. We have no idea who or what did this, but we've got more bad news while we're at it." Bella's expression turned grim.
"What is it?"
"Ginny went missing."