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gabrielmobius (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} gabrielmobius) wrote,@ 2006-08-03 15:32:00 |
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Rose Potter horror - Gabe and Notmonkey team up!
In order to properly handle this absolutely awful chapter, I enlisted the help of Notmonkey for the role of Sirius. We now know your pain, Mervin. How we know it.
A figure, adorned in a decorated robe, stands before a glass tank. Contained within is a featureless shape resembling that of a human. The figure pushes his circular spectacles up on his nose and frets with his hair a little, attempting to clear his vision. He smiles.
"It took the Philosopher's Stone and the knowledge contained within to attain this. But now, it shall serve the purpose that it was intended for."
The man holds out one hand as an aura of magical power rises around him, swirling about him in a circle. His eyes narrow, and he focuses.
"Body, mind, soul; All are sheared away.
If to serve this purpose I shall be despised, my body scorched and blackened, so be it.
If to serve this purpose I must command forbidden magicks, so be it!!
Though my body may be tainted, though my soul may be tainted, I imbue thee with thought.
I swear as the gods swear, and breathe life into the void!"
A blue light surrounds the humanoid shape in the tank, and it shifts, changing slowly into a crystal as the verbal component of the spell is recited. The entire room -- save the man in the robe and the crystal -- darkens. Wisps of light flow into the crystal, collecting inside of it. With the last word of the spell, the crystal erupts into a dazzling light and the room is engulfed. As the brilliance fades, the robed man pushes his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, opens his eyes, and grins.
"It has worked perfectly. My homunculus now contains the soul I have summoned from the void. But is it the right one, I wonder?"
The glow from the water in the tank fades, and the robed man shatters the glass with a single word. The humanoid shape that was contained within before is now distinctly human. It resembles a rather scraggly man, posessing a unique unkemptness about him. The homunculous stands weakly as it drifts into conciousness, opens it's eyes, and squints.
"Oy, got any clothes? It's bloody cold in here."
"Of course," replies the robed man, handing over the set of clothing he had prepared for this occaision. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Sirius Black."
-----
After getting the freshly revived Sirius some clothing, and a stiff drink, the robed man (who has identified himself as being a 'researcher of magic' called Gabriel) leads Sirius over to a massive tome. It is propped against a wall, and open to what appears to be the start of a new chapter in a story. The numbering on the chapter reads 35.
"This is the most recent chapter in a story I have plucked from a parallel universe. I found your name in previous chapters, and summoned what should be your original soul to your body. From what I've gathered from other observations, you intensely dislike the 'heroine'. A miss Rose Potter, I believe?"
Sirius scoffs. "Intensely dislike? Love, I preferred incarceration in AZKABAN to that vinegar titted minge's bloody company. And have you met her 'druid' friends? Pack of rancid hippies. Banging on tambourines and pretending they didn't have any pot. Mean bastards."
"Quite. Unfortunately, as this tome actually puts you inside the universe that is spawned from the story once you start reading it, I've found myself entering with several casks of very, VERY strong whiskey. Those 'druids' actually forced me to research a controlled sensory destruction spell. The smell was unbearable."
"Yeah. So were their tents. It was the mung beans."
Gabriel gives a short chuckle and turns back to the tome. "A pity I cannot interact with the universe, or else I would be very satisfied. Alas, my curiosity as a researcher bids me finish this volume. I'm writing a dossier on alternate universes, and their treatment of magic. This Rose Potter is making me reconsider my course of study."
"Yeah. She does that. It's lucky you can't interact, actually. She'd have you bollock naked in no time. And if you didn't do as you said she'd probably carve 'arsecandle' or 'catflap' on your forehead. She's considerate like that."
"I've noticed. Well, I have the whiskey ready, and some rather comfy chairs." He indicates the reading seats a little to the left, with a full supply of liquor. "Care to join me on my foray into the very bowels of hell itself?"
Sirius approaches one of the chairs tenatively. "I don't actually have to go back in there, do I?"
"Oh, don't worry. She won't be able to see -- or interact with -- you. And you'll probably be so pissing drunk within five minutes that it won't matter."
"Now that sounds more like it. Pass the booze."
Gabriel takes a seat in the left chair, pours out two mugs of whiskey, and passes one to Sirius as he takes the other seat. The tome lights up, and in a flash they're transported into the story.
CHAPTER 35
(I'll snip the first bit, as it's canon.)
Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed me out of shrewd, narrow eyes.
“And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?” said Phineas eventually. “This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don’t tell me…” He gave another shuddering yawn. “Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?”
Sirius: "Sod off, Phineas, you crusty old lump of gibbon smegma. Do you know, I got saddled with the middle name of Nigellus on account of that twat...bloody hell. This whiskey's strong. I don't usually tell anyone that."
Gabriel: "And the sad part is that Phineas saying that is somehow preferable, in my mind, to anything Rose says. It's horrible, isn't it?"
Sirius: "Grotesque."
I could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but I could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable.
A few more of the portraits had stirred now. Terror of being interrogated made me stride across the room and seize the doorknob. It would not turn. I was shut in. In retrospect, I wondered why I did not just Teleport out of the room, I could have, but my mind was in a state of unreality, I could hardly think properly.
Sirius: "That wouldn't be the first knob she's grabbed."
Gabriel: "Have you been privy to her escapades with that undead sod, Cedric?"
Sirius: "Noncey Podboy? Oh yeah. Who wasn't privy to that? She had her funbags flapping in the breeze on Salisbury Plain, for fuck's sake."
Gabriel: "I heard that a low-brow pornographic magazine bought the pictures of her at Stonehenge. Apparently the sight of flapping, saggy titties in public was too low for most of the 'respectable' ones. The magazine that published them went out of business too."
Sirius: "Yeah. She really needs to marry Dead Cedric, then she'll be proper Reader's Wives material. And what is she blathering about, anyway? She NEVER thinks properly, if the ramblings of her gob betray her mental processes. Her brain must be on a permanent loop of 'Ninja, druid, boobs, ninja, druid, boobs, REVEEEEEENGEEE!!! ninja, druid, boobs."
Gabriel: "And another thing, if she can bloody teleport, then why isn't she? I have to concentrate for a full five seconds before my teleportation circles even start to form, sodding ancient magic. But she can do it on a whim, and 'forgets' it?"
Sirius: "Normal people don't think about 'teleporting', whatever that is. Normal people apparate. Or they floo...if they're that drunk. And I'm sure she's fucking MOIST at the notion of grabbing her moment of tearful naked glory, breaking the news of my demise."
Gabriel: "Oh yes."
“I hope this means,” said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind the Headmaster’s desk, “that Dumbledore will soon be back among us?”
I turned. The wizard was surveying me with great interest. I nodded. I tugged again on the doorknob behind my back, but it remained immovable.
Sirius: "Rose, stop tugging that knob. It'll go off in your face."
Gabriel: "And then she'll have to explain the mess to those portraits."
Sirius: "Do you think they're too old to know what 'bukkake' means?"
Gabriel: "They'd never admit to it, even if they did."
“Oh good,” said the wizard. “It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed.”
He settled himself on the throne-like chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon me.
“Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know,” he said comfortably. “Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem.”
Sirius: "Everyone else thinks you're a cunt."
Gabriel: "Poor Dumbledore. The man has such faith in people."
Sirius: "Even the portraits have got their tongue up her arse. It's so revolting."
The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, making me leap away from the door, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore’s tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.
“Thank you,” said Dumbledore softly.
Gabriel: "Run while you can, mate."
Sirius: "He knows, you see. He knows to speak quietly and not steal her moment of glory. Otherwise she's carve OLD CUNT on his head and sodomise his mind."
Gabriel: "And probably wouldn't stop at his mind, either."
Sirius: "You're worse than ME!"
Gabriel: "Well, I have had two mugs so far. Scone?"
Sirius: "Don't mind if I do."
He did not look at me at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.
“Well, Rosey,”
Gabriel: "Have I ever mentioned how BLOODY CUNTING MUCH I hate the name 'Rosey'?"
Sirius: "Rosey Posey Pudding and Pie, kissed the boys and made their lips drop off because they were dead and have been steadily decomposing since the end of Book Four."
said Dumbledore, finally turning away from the baby bird, “you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night’s events.”
“Good,” I said, gritting my teeth. It seemed to take all my emotional control to just speak properly.
Gabriel: "Oh yes, she's ANGRY that they survived?"
Sirius: "She's just a kratakoa of suppressed rage, isn't she? What Quidditch position does the baggage play? With anger issues like that she'd make a shithot beater."
Gabriel: "I mean, think about it. She was just told that her friends are safe, and she's FURIOUS. Makes you wonder what her 'plan' -- which involved the cunt walking into a trap -- actually was..."
Sirius: "To act like a personality disordered moron?"
Gabriel: "That too."
“Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up,” said Dumbledore. “Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St Mungo’s, but it seems she will make a full recovery.”
I contented myself with nodding at Dumbledore. The office was growing lighter as the sky outside grew paler. I was sure all the portraits around the room were listening closely to every word Dumbledore spoke, wondering where Dumbledore and I had been, and why there had been injuries.
Sirius: "Why there had been injuries???"
Gabriel: "I can see Phineas' face light right the hell up when he hears that her 'brilliant' plan was to walk into a trap. Remind me to save a copy of his portrait, his sarcasm could be welcome."
Sirius: "You dozy bint - you went traipising into a bunch of bloody Death Eaters, including the Noseless Wonder himself. What did you EXPECT, catflap twat?"
“I know how you are feeling, Rosey,” said Dumbledore very quietly.
Gabriel: "Oh no. He said it. Brace yourself."
Sirius: "Uh oh...she's gonna blooooow. And I don't just mean in her usual manner."
“How would you know?” I snapped, and my voice was suddenly loud and strong; white-hot anger leapt inside me; Dumbledore knew nothing about my feelings.
“You see, Dumbledore?” said Phineas Nigellus slyly. “Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own…”
Gabriel: "Definitely saving his portrait. And remind me to send him a drink."
Sirius: "Oh, alright. He's got a point. Even if he does have a face like a monkey's scrotum."
“That’s enough, Phineas,” said Dumbledore.
I turned my back on Dumbledore and stared determinedly out of the window.
Gabriel: "And the window stared back, wondering 'what the sodding hell is this staring at me?'."
Sirius: "No, it isn't enough, Phineas. Stick it to the bitch. Come on. I'm experiencing a rare sensation right now. I think it's called filial pride. Fuck me. Weird, isn't it?"
“It was a good plan, Rosey,”
Gabriel: "... *is dumbstruck*"
Sirius: "No it wasn't. It was shit."
Gabriel: "But... did he... buh?"
Sirius: "I got KILLED - although that bit was good. At least she thinks I'm dead now."
said Dumbledore. “And it succeeded on all counts.
Gabriel: "SUCCEEDED? YOU WERE THERE YOU OLD BIT OF SHITE! YOU SAW EVERYTHING! How in the fuck did it succeed?"
Sirius: "*shakes head* Oh...that's sad. I never thought I'd live, die and undie the day Albus Dumbledore started losing his marbles."
Voldemort has been exposed; he will no longer be able to work in the shadows.”
Gabriel: "..."
Sirius: "Voldemort exposing himself...yeah. I didn't want to imagine that. Do you think parseltongue works on trouser snakes?"
Gabriel: "That would be very interesting indeed. Imagine what Remus' wang could tell you."
Sirius: "Bloooody hell."
“Sirius dying was not part of the plan!” I shouted angrily.
Gabriel: "I'm sure it was part of HIS plan to get the hell away from YOU."
Sirius: "Yes it was. I am freeeeee! Free of your stupid tits and your stupid face and your anger management problem and your fucking ocarina playing hippy friends."
“When fighting Voldemort and his minions there will be casualties, Rosey,” said Dumbledore softly. “You have learned in the worst way possible, that this is the nature of war. And there is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary…the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.”
Sirius: "She doesn't feel pain, though. She just feels ANGER! And lust for revenge."
Gabriel: "So her ability to turn into a raving, genocidal megalomaniacal sociopath is a strength? Has Voldemort been addling Dumbledore?"
Sirius: "He's going...*twirls finger to temple* I'm telling you. It's fucking tragic, but he's very old - nobody knows how old. And his brother went a bit queer. Runs in the family."
Gabriel: "Hence my comment about addling, although I meant the other type of addling. My, this whiskey is strong..."
Sirius: "Good, isn't it?"
“My greatest strength, is it?” I said, my voice shaking as I stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue…you don’t know…”
“What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly.
Sirius: "SHE'S A NINJA!!!!"
Gabriel: "Maybe's he's realised that he's going off and is trying to commit suicide? I think he's learning from you, Sirius."
Sirius: "You'd better get him a spare armchair. Just in case."
“You haven’t had the closest person to a mother almost be killed! and then not a day later the closest thing you have ever known to a father be murdered before your eyes!” I screamed; an aura of power blossoming around me and I seized the delicate silver instrument from the spindle-legged table beside me and flung it across the room; it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall. Several of the pictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the portrait of Armando Dippet said, “Really!”
Gabriel: "My word that was a long sentence."
Sirius: "An aura of power? Oh my days - is she on the rag or something?"
I next seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and it crumbled to pieces in my grip; the legs rolling in different directions as they fell to the floor.
Gabriel: "Crushing things with a grip? That's more 'being in labour', really."
Sirius: "ROSEY MAD! ROSEY SMAAAASH!"
“You are correct,” said Dumbledore, in an infuriatingly calm almost detached expression on his face.
For a long while I just stared at my own hands as they strained themselves in fists. I finally looked up.
“You obviously have something to say, since I can’t get out,” my voice snapped like a whip.
Gabriel: "Would someone snap a real whip back at her? It works on lions..."
Sirius: "Oh, I hate her."
“I do,” said Dumbledore bowing his head. “Please sit down.” It was not an order, it was a request.
Gabriel: "Oh, don't flatter yourself you little bint. Dumbledore ordered you to sit down, so sit."
Sirius: "Yes, don't presume to order Rose Potter around. She'll turn into a panther/gorilla/gerbil/pigeon hybrid animagus and baffle you to death with her Linnean illogic."
I hesitated, then walked slowly across the room now littered with silver cogs and fragments of wood, and took the seat facing Dumbledore’s desk.
“Rosey, I owe you an explanation,” said Dumbledore. “An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young…and I seem to have forgotten, lately…”
Gabriel: "Look, lad. I know Voldemort's got some age to him too, but all you need is a few new ideas, and it'll make you feel like you're having sex for the first time."
Sirius: "I know the feeling. That syphilitic cunt's put years on me. And in this case youth thinks about revenge and feels rage and dead boys. He'd be forgiven for not knowing the festering processes of her purulent little excuse for a mind."
The sun was rising properly now; there was a rim of dazzling orange visible over the mountains and the sky above it was colorless and bright. The light fell upon Dumbledore, upon the silver of his eyebrows and beard, upon the lines gouged deeply into his face.
“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection between you and Voldemort.”
Sirius: "Yep. She's his natural successor."
Gabriel: "Pre-bloody-cisely. Why does no one notice this?"
Sirius: "They're all insane?"
Gabriel: "They need more alcohol. This stuff makes you think clearly."
“I know this, Professor,” I said bluntly. I did not care about something as trivial as manners at the moment.
Sirius: "*sputters* When did you ever?"
“Yes,” said Dumbledore apologetically. “Yes, but you see – it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion.”
“I know,” I said wearily.
Sirius: "Yes, you've heard all this before, Rose. You knew that because you're sooooo bloody clever. Can someone please drop that argument for post-natal abortion down a fucking well?"
“And this ability of yours – to detect Voldemort’s presence, even when he is disguised, and to know what he is feeling when his emotions are roused – has become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers.”
I did not bother to nod. I knew all of this already.
“More recently,” said Dumbledore, “I became concerned that Voldemort might realize that this connection between you exists. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr Weasley.”
“Yeah, Professor Snape told me,” I muttered.
Siruus: "Is this 'nice' Snape, the mentorish potion's master?"
Gabriel: "Yes. Feel free to weep."
Sirius: "Riiiight. Not the miserable, embittered, intellectually arrogant, giant nosed, greasy haired prick that I went to school with?"
Gabriel: "No, apparently he's changed."
Sirius: "And got over his loathing of James and everything to do with him. That's handy for Rose."
Gabriel: "Isn't it?"
“But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you after I had taken such a direct hand in your tutelage before? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?”
Gabriel: "Because you knew that she would try to kill you at the first available opportunity?
Sirius: "He was uneasy about being caught in his office with a naked fifteen year old girl. The authorities tend to take a dim view of that kind of thing. I mean...mud sticks, you know? With his brother and the goat...people talk..."
I looked up. I could see now that Dumbledore looked sad and tired.
“Yes,” I said, the hurt apparent in my voice.
Gabriel: "Oh, the poor dear. Don't you just want to put her out of her misery?"
Sirius: "You're more hurt that Dumbledore wasn't staring at your norks than the fact that I'm DEAD? Thanks a bunch, bitch."
“You see,” Dumbledore continued, “I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts, and I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realized that our relationship was – or ever had been – closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me. I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Rosey, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way.”
Sirius: "Closer than headmaster and pupil? Oh dearie me...that does look VERY unsavoury, doesn't it?"
“Voldemort’s aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him. So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Rosey. An old man’s mistake…”
Gabriel: "I'd gladly sacrifice her to get to Voldemort. What's that saying about birds and stones?"
Sirius: "Omelettes and eggs."
Gabriel: "That too."
He sighed deeply. I would have been interested to know all this a few months ago, but now it was meaningless compared to the gaping chasm inside me that was the loss of Sirius; none of it mattered…
Sirius: "UUURGH. I do not wish to hear about your gaping chasm. It probably smells like a cross between Billingsgate fish market and a mortuary in August, being as it regulary recieves a portion of zombie-cock."
Gabriel: "*squirts whiskey out of his nose*"
“Sirius told me you felt Voldemort awake inside you
Gabriel: "*repeats*"
Sirius: "AAARGH! This just keeps getting worse! I never said that! Where's the booze? That's revolting!"
Gabriel: "*hands over a mug while wiping his nose off*"
Sirius: "Thank you. Is there anyone she hasn't had up her creamy way?"
the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Weasley’s attack. I knew at once that my worst fears were correct. Voldemort had realized he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort’s assaults on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.”
Gabriel: "What about her assaults on our minds?"
Sirius: "I can see where this is going... If there's innuendo about Snape being 'inside' her I'm afraid I am going to have to scream."
He paused. I watched the sunlight, which was sliding slowly across the polished surface of Dumbledore’s desk, illuminate a silver ink pot and a handsome scarlet quill. I could tell that the portraits all around us were awake and listening raptly to Dumbledore’s explanation; I could hear the occasional rustle of robes, the slight clearing of a throat.
“Professor Snape discovered,” resumed Dumbledore, “that you already had a rudimentary mastery of your own mind,
Gabriel: "Oh bloody -- not THAT thing again."
Sirius: "It's not a ninja thing, is it? Please tell me it's not a ninja thing."
Gabriel: "Yes, it is."
Sirius: "BOLLOCKS. She is full of more shit per square inch than a sewage plant."
and it has protected you somewhat, but not enough to fully shield your link to Voldemort. You had occasional dreams about the door to the Department of Mysteries for months. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body, and as he dwelled on the door, so did you, though you did not know what it meant.”
Sirius: "If Remus were here he would probably say that was somewhat Freudian and giggle."
(Right, snip the next canon paragraph.)
“Which, I know for fact, you have done quite well,” said Dumbledore a sad smile on his face. “Your skills allowed you to see through the vision for what it was,
Gabriel: "Oh fucking blow it out your arse."
Sirius: "Faaabulous. Another 'Let's all praise Rose' session."
it also did help that Sirius was with you when the vision came.
Sirius: Was I?
Gabriel: "That sounds like innuendo. I can't place it, but it sounds like innuendo. I need more booze."
Sirius: "Must have been drunk. I don't remember. Her company was always preferable when I was completely bladdered. I was sick on her tits once - did I mention that?"
Gabriel: "What did she do to you for it?"
Sirius: "Oh, she flashed her fancy contact lenses and ranted a bit, but I told her it was an accident. I was actually aiming for her FACE."
Well…you know what happened from there. You deduced immediately that it was trap for you. And you imagined upon a brilliant plan, to walk purposefully into this trap but with as much help as you could command at such short notice. You sent Sirius
Sirius: "How was that a brilliant plan, exactly?"
Gabriel: "... I'm sorry, something about 'walking into a trap' and 'brilliant plan' and 'sending Sirius, who is probably bladdered off his rocker' just shut down my brain."
Sirius: "I'm not being stupid, am I? But isn't that a completely SHIT plan?"
Gabriel: "Yes, yes it is."
Sirius: "It's probably the shittest plan since that Lockhead kid a couple of years below us tried to cool down the Hufflepuff Common Room with a snow spell. Summer of '76, that was. Bloody scorching. Kids ended up having to be treated for frostbite."
to muster myself and the Order to come to your aid as well, because you knew that however good you had trained your friends, that they were no real match for Death Eaters.”
Gabriel: "I'm rather surprised that she didn't singlehandedly take on all of the Death Eaters."
Sirius: "'However good'? No...this can't be Dumbledore. The real Dumbledore has a better grasp of grammar. Oh, I would have loved to see her if it was just mano e mano with her and Trixiebella. We used to call her that - Trixiebella. Used to drive her fucking MAD."
Dumbledore heaved a great sigh and continued, “Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin were at Headquarters when Sirius made contact. They all agreed at once to go to your aid.”
Sirius: "They didn't have much choice, did they? The Girl Who Lives blunders straight into a fucking TRAP."
Gabriel: "Remus must've done his bleeding heart bit."
Sirius: "I'll swing for the sod if he did."
“I don’t need a blow by blow account of the rest,” I said bluntly.
“I wasn’t going to,” said Dumbledore. “But it is time, for me tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Rosey. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience.” I glared at him for a moment.
“Go on,” I said wearily.
Gabriel: "'Wearily'? That snarky little..."
Sirius: "He only asks for patience. That's beyond her. Rude cow. I know I've got the manners of an inbred dog, but she's just something else."
(Snip)
“I asked you why Voldemort had decided to come after me as a baby,” I said, frowning as I remembered.
“Yes, but should I have told then?”
Gabriel: "What the bloody hell did he just say? Because I can't make heads or tails of it."
Sirius: "I don't know. He should have told her when she was a baby? She was thirteen months old. All she could say was Mama, Dada and poo poo."
(Snip)
“The prophecy’s destroyed,” I said heavily. “I stray curse hit my hand…”
Gabriel: "She's losing it too."
Sirius: "Irritable vowel syndrome?"
Gabriel: "Exactly."
(Snipsnip)
Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past me to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes’s perch. He bent down, slid back a catch and took from inside it the shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges, in which I had seen my father tormenting Professor Snape.
Gabriel: "Torment? You were there Sirius, you tell it."
Sirius: "Weeeellll...maybe we did get a bit of a rise out of him. But he was a twat. And some of those nasties in his Potions book... Okay, we were horrible little shitehawks, but he was using some seriously unpleasant dark magic. You know that scar Remus has across his face?"
Gabriel: "Yeah, I know the one."
Sirius: "A rather horrible little number called Sectumsempra did that one. I mean...okay. That was my fault. Remus was a werewolf at the time - hairy, you know. But how do you think we got Snape to keep schtum about Remus? James heard Snape casting Unforgiveables in the tunnel."
Gabriel: "Poor 'misunderstood' bastard my arse."
Sirius: "He's not. He's a nasty bit of work."
(Wow, there's a lot of canon. Snip.)
“Explain,” I stated hoarsely, though my feelings had given me an idea of what the prophecy was going to mean.
Sirius: "It said you would have jiggly tits, be a ninja and be a complete bitch to everyone around you."
Gabriel: "Ah, if only."
“It means,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This girl would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.”
“And I take it I was the only witch born in that month?” I asked, my breathing becoming choked.
Sirius: "You were the only hellspawn. That's for certain."
Gabriel: "For the bloody love of-- just strip Neville of one of his shining moments of revelation, why don't you, you little cuntsmear? Can't have that imperfect boy stepping in on your bloody moment of glory, eh?"
Sirius: "Cuntsmear. Well done. I am impressed. Of course - Frank and Alice's boy...he popped out around the same time, didn't he? Only with a winkie dinkie doo da, so he couldn't have Rose's amazing feminine powers."
Gabriel: "That'd be Neville. Of course, this universe -- which was crafted by her, I swear to Loki -- changed the prophecy to be female specific. I want to revert her to an egg and squash her under my boot."
Sirius: "B...but...Neville?"
Gabriel: "Right out of the running. What, would you expect HER to share the spotlight with a plebian like him? You must be joking, I thought you knew this girl."
Sirius: "Well...bang goes that interesting plot point then."
“Yes,” nodded Dumbledore. “The next part of the prophecy gives the final identifying feature of the girl who could vanquish Voldemort…Voldemort himself would mark her as his equal. And so he did, Rosey. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse.”
Sirius: "And made you look like a crap David Bowie fan from the Ziggy Stardust period."
(Snip)
“Why then did he try to kill me as a baby?” I said, feeling numb and cold. “He should have waited to see if I would be any threat to him. Prophecies are rarely black and white and can be interpreted in many ways until they are fulfilled.”
Sirius: "Darling - if I'd known you'd be this much of a vainglorious hellbeast, I would have killed you."
Gabriel: "... I'm sorry, what? YOU WERE THE ONLY RASSHOLE FEMALE BORN IN THE TIME PERIOD SPECIFIED IN THE BLEEDIN' PROPHECY? How the FUCKING CUNTING HELL COULD THAT BE INTERPRETED IN ANY OTHER WAY, THINE SAGGY TWATTED FUCKSTAIN?"
Sirius: "There's that to it. I'm surprised she's questioning it. It's her favourite, after all. It's all about HER!"
Gabriel: "Except when it's convenient, in which case it makes her look like a fucking idiot."
“Very true, that might, indeed, have been the more practical course,” said Dumbledore, “except that Voldemort’s information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog’s Head inn, which Sybill chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sybill Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My – our – one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building.”
Sirius: "The Rodent?"
Gabriel: "That just makes no bloody sense. How does that make sense? The complete prophecy lists her as the only one possible of fighting him... I'm done."
Sirius: "She's just that special."
“So he only heard…?”
“He only heard the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a girl in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have power the Dark Lord knows not…”
Gabriel: "Oh he found out later, he did. Ninja, Teleportation... I've sodding lost count, what else does she have?"
Sirius: "I knew Peter was thick but really... Silverback winged pussy or something."
Gabriel: "Right, that."
“What power have I got that he does not?” I asked in a strangled voice. “I though he was supposed to be my equal.”
Sirius: "Oh, what HAVEN'T you got, Missy?"
Gabriel: "... I refuse to believe that she's this stupid, I really do."
Sirius: "I don't. She's obviously a throwback on James' side of the family. He had a great Uncle who ate his own chin. Very stupid man."
“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries,” answered Dumbledore, “that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you had Occlumency skills. It was your heart that saved you.”
Sirius: "She has a heart?"
Gabriel: "... To... save... Siri... WHEN WERE YOU IN TROUBLE? I thought you were safe at the headquarters? I thought she recognised the vision as a trap! Oh bloody hell, I give up."
Sirius: "Yeah, but she's patently a cretin. I'm waiting for her to eat her own chin."
(Snip)
For a long time, neither of us spoke. Somewhere far beyond the office wall, I could hear the sound of voices, students heading down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desired food, who laughed, who neither knew nor cared that Sirius Black was gone for ever.
Sirius: "Doesn't bother me. I never met them."
“I feel I owe you another explanation, Rosey,” said Dumbledore hesitantly. “You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess…that I rather thought…you had enough responsibility to be going on with.”
I looked up at him and saw a tear tricking down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard – and at that moment, all the anger, the rejection I had felt from the old man seemed to vanish in an instant. I walked around his desk and we hugged each other as grandfather to granddaughter.
Gabriel: "I'm going to be ill."
Sirius: "I'm going to get a bludger bat and stove her head in."
Gabriel: "Sadly, it's over. Well, I'm going to pull Remus from that horrible world, and then you, he and I can have comforting, drunken sex. I really can't conceive of anything else at the moment."
Sirius: "Yeah - alright then. Just don't hog the bottom spot. That's MINE."
Gabriel: "Right."
So, thanks to Notmonkey for sharing this atrocity with me. I hate this bint so very very much.
In order to properly handle this absolutely awful chapter, I enlisted the help of Notmonkey for the role of Sirius. We now know your pain, Mervin. How we know it.
A figure, adorned in a decorated robe, stands before a glass tank. Contained within is a featureless shape resembling that of a human. The figure pushes his circular spectacles up on his nose and frets with his hair a little, attempting to clear his vision. He smiles.
"It took the Philosopher's Stone and the knowledge contained within to attain this. But now, it shall serve the purpose that it was intended for."
The man holds out one hand as an aura of magical power rises around him, swirling about him in a circle. His eyes narrow, and he focuses.
"Body, mind, soul; All are sheared away.
If to serve this purpose I shall be despised, my body scorched and blackened, so be it.
If to serve this purpose I must command forbidden magicks, so be it!!
Though my body may be tainted, though my soul may be tainted, I imbue thee with thought.
I swear as the gods swear, and breathe life into the void!"
A blue light surrounds the humanoid shape in the tank, and it shifts, changing slowly into a crystal as the verbal component of the spell is recited. The entire room -- save the man in the robe and the crystal -- darkens. Wisps of light flow into the crystal, collecting inside of it. With the last word of the spell, the crystal erupts into a dazzling light and the room is engulfed. As the brilliance fades, the robed man pushes his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, opens his eyes, and grins.
"It has worked perfectly. My homunculus now contains the soul I have summoned from the void. But is it the right one, I wonder?"
The glow from the water in the tank fades, and the robed man shatters the glass with a single word. The humanoid shape that was contained within before is now distinctly human. It resembles a rather scraggly man, posessing a unique unkemptness about him. The homunculous stands weakly as it drifts into conciousness, opens it's eyes, and squints.
"Oy, got any clothes? It's bloody cold in here."
"Of course," replies the robed man, handing over the set of clothing he had prepared for this occaision. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Sirius Black."
-----
After getting the freshly revived Sirius some clothing, and a stiff drink, the robed man (who has identified himself as being a 'researcher of magic' called Gabriel) leads Sirius over to a massive tome. It is propped against a wall, and open to what appears to be the start of a new chapter in a story. The numbering on the chapter reads 35.
"This is the most recent chapter in a story I have plucked from a parallel universe. I found your name in previous chapters, and summoned what should be your original soul to your body. From what I've gathered from other observations, you intensely dislike the 'heroine'. A miss Rose Potter, I believe?"
Sirius scoffs. "Intensely dislike? Love, I preferred incarceration in AZKABAN to that vinegar titted minge's bloody company. And have you met her 'druid' friends? Pack of rancid hippies. Banging on tambourines and pretending they didn't have any pot. Mean bastards."
"Quite. Unfortunately, as this tome actually puts you inside the universe that is spawned from the story once you start reading it, I've found myself entering with several casks of very, VERY strong whiskey. Those 'druids' actually forced me to research a controlled sensory destruction spell. The smell was unbearable."
"Yeah. So were their tents. It was the mung beans."
Gabriel gives a short chuckle and turns back to the tome. "A pity I cannot interact with the universe, or else I would be very satisfied. Alas, my curiosity as a researcher bids me finish this volume. I'm writing a dossier on alternate universes, and their treatment of magic. This Rose Potter is making me reconsider my course of study."
"Yeah. She does that. It's lucky you can't interact, actually. She'd have you bollock naked in no time. And if you didn't do as you said she'd probably carve 'arsecandle' or 'catflap' on your forehead. She's considerate like that."
"I've noticed. Well, I have the whiskey ready, and some rather comfy chairs." He indicates the reading seats a little to the left, with a full supply of liquor. "Care to join me on my foray into the very bowels of hell itself?"
Sirius approaches one of the chairs tenatively. "I don't actually have to go back in there, do I?"
"Oh, don't worry. She won't be able to see -- or interact with -- you. And you'll probably be so pissing drunk within five minutes that it won't matter."
"Now that sounds more like it. Pass the booze."
Gabriel takes a seat in the left chair, pours out two mugs of whiskey, and passes one to Sirius as he takes the other seat. The tome lights up, and in a flash they're transported into the story.
(I'll snip the first bit, as it's canon.)
Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed me out of shrewd, narrow eyes.
“And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?” said Phineas eventually. “This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don’t tell me…” He gave another shuddering yawn. “Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?”
Sirius: "Sod off, Phineas, you crusty old lump of gibbon smegma. Do you know, I got saddled with the middle name of Nigellus on account of that twat...bloody hell. This whiskey's strong. I don't usually tell anyone that."
Gabriel: "And the sad part is that Phineas saying that is somehow preferable, in my mind, to anything Rose says. It's horrible, isn't it?"
Sirius: "Grotesque."
I could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but I could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable.
A few more of the portraits had stirred now. Terror of being interrogated made me stride across the room and seize the doorknob. It would not turn. I was shut in. In retrospect, I wondered why I did not just Teleport out of the room, I could have, but my mind was in a state of unreality, I could hardly think properly.
Sirius: "That wouldn't be the first knob she's grabbed."
Gabriel: "Have you been privy to her escapades with that undead sod, Cedric?"
Sirius: "Noncey Podboy? Oh yeah. Who wasn't privy to that? She had her funbags flapping in the breeze on Salisbury Plain, for fuck's sake."
Gabriel: "I heard that a low-brow pornographic magazine bought the pictures of her at Stonehenge. Apparently the sight of flapping, saggy titties in public was too low for most of the 'respectable' ones. The magazine that published them went out of business too."
Sirius: "Yeah. She really needs to marry Dead Cedric, then she'll be proper Reader's Wives material. And what is she blathering about, anyway? She NEVER thinks properly, if the ramblings of her gob betray her mental processes. Her brain must be on a permanent loop of 'Ninja, druid, boobs, ninja, druid, boobs, REVEEEEEENGEEE!!! ninja, druid, boobs."
Gabriel: "And another thing, if she can bloody teleport, then why isn't she? I have to concentrate for a full five seconds before my teleportation circles even start to form, sodding ancient magic. But she can do it on a whim, and 'forgets' it?"
Sirius: "Normal people don't think about 'teleporting', whatever that is. Normal people apparate. Or they floo...if they're that drunk. And I'm sure she's fucking MOIST at the notion of grabbing her moment of tearful naked glory, breaking the news of my demise."
Gabriel: "Oh yes."
“I hope this means,” said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind the Headmaster’s desk, “that Dumbledore will soon be back among us?”
I turned. The wizard was surveying me with great interest. I nodded. I tugged again on the doorknob behind my back, but it remained immovable.
Sirius: "Rose, stop tugging that knob. It'll go off in your face."
Gabriel: "And then she'll have to explain the mess to those portraits."
Sirius: "Do you think they're too old to know what 'bukkake' means?"
Gabriel: "They'd never admit to it, even if they did."
“Oh good,” said the wizard. “It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed.”
He settled himself on the throne-like chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon me.
“Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know,” he said comfortably. “Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem.”
Sirius: "Everyone else thinks you're a cunt."
Gabriel: "Poor Dumbledore. The man has such faith in people."
Sirius: "Even the portraits have got their tongue up her arse. It's so revolting."
The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, making me leap away from the door, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore’s tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.
“Thank you,” said Dumbledore softly.
Gabriel: "Run while you can, mate."
Sirius: "He knows, you see. He knows to speak quietly and not steal her moment of glory. Otherwise she's carve OLD CUNT on his head and sodomise his mind."
Gabriel: "And probably wouldn't stop at his mind, either."
Sirius: "You're worse than ME!"
Gabriel: "Well, I have had two mugs so far. Scone?"
Sirius: "Don't mind if I do."
He did not look at me at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.
“Well, Rosey,”
Gabriel: "Have I ever mentioned how BLOODY CUNTING MUCH I hate the name 'Rosey'?"
Sirius: "Rosey Posey Pudding and Pie, kissed the boys and made their lips drop off because they were dead and have been steadily decomposing since the end of Book Four."
said Dumbledore, finally turning away from the baby bird, “you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night’s events.”
“Good,” I said, gritting my teeth. It seemed to take all my emotional control to just speak properly.
Gabriel: "Oh yes, she's ANGRY that they survived?"
Sirius: "She's just a kratakoa of suppressed rage, isn't she? What Quidditch position does the baggage play? With anger issues like that she'd make a shithot beater."
Gabriel: "I mean, think about it. She was just told that her friends are safe, and she's FURIOUS. Makes you wonder what her 'plan' -- which involved the cunt walking into a trap -- actually was..."
Sirius: "To act like a personality disordered moron?"
Gabriel: "That too."
“Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up,” said Dumbledore. “Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St Mungo’s, but it seems she will make a full recovery.”
I contented myself with nodding at Dumbledore. The office was growing lighter as the sky outside grew paler. I was sure all the portraits around the room were listening closely to every word Dumbledore spoke, wondering where Dumbledore and I had been, and why there had been injuries.
Sirius: "Why there had been injuries???"
Gabriel: "I can see Phineas' face light right the hell up when he hears that her 'brilliant' plan was to walk into a trap. Remind me to save a copy of his portrait, his sarcasm could be welcome."
Sirius: "You dozy bint - you went traipising into a bunch of bloody Death Eaters, including the Noseless Wonder himself. What did you EXPECT, catflap twat?"
“I know how you are feeling, Rosey,” said Dumbledore very quietly.
Gabriel: "Oh no. He said it. Brace yourself."
Sirius: "Uh oh...she's gonna blooooow. And I don't just mean in her usual manner."
“How would you know?” I snapped, and my voice was suddenly loud and strong; white-hot anger leapt inside me; Dumbledore knew nothing about my feelings.
“You see, Dumbledore?” said Phineas Nigellus slyly. “Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own…”
Gabriel: "Definitely saving his portrait. And remind me to send him a drink."
Sirius: "Oh, alright. He's got a point. Even if he does have a face like a monkey's scrotum."
“That’s enough, Phineas,” said Dumbledore.
I turned my back on Dumbledore and stared determinedly out of the window.
Gabriel: "And the window stared back, wondering 'what the sodding hell is this staring at me?'."
Sirius: "No, it isn't enough, Phineas. Stick it to the bitch. Come on. I'm experiencing a rare sensation right now. I think it's called filial pride. Fuck me. Weird, isn't it?"
“It was a good plan, Rosey,”
Gabriel: "... *is dumbstruck*"
Sirius: "No it wasn't. It was shit."
Gabriel: "But... did he... buh?"
Sirius: "I got KILLED - although that bit was good. At least she thinks I'm dead now."
said Dumbledore. “And it succeeded on all counts.
Gabriel: "SUCCEEDED? YOU WERE THERE YOU OLD BIT OF SHITE! YOU SAW EVERYTHING! How in the fuck did it succeed?"
Sirius: "*shakes head* Oh...that's sad. I never thought I'd live, die and undie the day Albus Dumbledore started losing his marbles."
Voldemort has been exposed; he will no longer be able to work in the shadows.”
Gabriel: "..."
Sirius: "Voldemort exposing himself...yeah. I didn't want to imagine that. Do you think parseltongue works on trouser snakes?"
Gabriel: "That would be very interesting indeed. Imagine what Remus' wang could tell you."
Sirius: "Bloooody hell."
“Sirius dying was not part of the plan!” I shouted angrily.
Gabriel: "I'm sure it was part of HIS plan to get the hell away from YOU."
Sirius: "Yes it was. I am freeeeee! Free of your stupid tits and your stupid face and your anger management problem and your fucking ocarina playing hippy friends."
“When fighting Voldemort and his minions there will be casualties, Rosey,” said Dumbledore softly. “You have learned in the worst way possible, that this is the nature of war. And there is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary…the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.”
Sirius: "She doesn't feel pain, though. She just feels ANGER! And lust for revenge."
Gabriel: "So her ability to turn into a raving, genocidal megalomaniacal sociopath is a strength? Has Voldemort been addling Dumbledore?"
Sirius: "He's going...*twirls finger to temple* I'm telling you. It's fucking tragic, but he's very old - nobody knows how old. And his brother went a bit queer. Runs in the family."
Gabriel: "Hence my comment about addling, although I meant the other type of addling. My, this whiskey is strong..."
Sirius: "Good, isn't it?"
“My greatest strength, is it?” I said, my voice shaking as I stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue…you don’t know…”
“What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly.
Sirius: "SHE'S A NINJA!!!!"
Gabriel: "Maybe's he's realised that he's going off and is trying to commit suicide? I think he's learning from you, Sirius."
Sirius: "You'd better get him a spare armchair. Just in case."
“You haven’t had the closest person to a mother almost be killed! and then not a day later the closest thing you have ever known to a father be murdered before your eyes!” I screamed; an aura of power blossoming around me and I seized the delicate silver instrument from the spindle-legged table beside me and flung it across the room; it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall. Several of the pictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the portrait of Armando Dippet said, “Really!”
Gabriel: "My word that was a long sentence."
Sirius: "An aura of power? Oh my days - is she on the rag or something?"
I next seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and it crumbled to pieces in my grip; the legs rolling in different directions as they fell to the floor.
Gabriel: "Crushing things with a grip? That's more 'being in labour', really."
Sirius: "ROSEY MAD! ROSEY SMAAAASH!"
“You are correct,” said Dumbledore, in an infuriatingly calm almost detached expression on his face.
For a long while I just stared at my own hands as they strained themselves in fists. I finally looked up.
“You obviously have something to say, since I can’t get out,” my voice snapped like a whip.
Gabriel: "Would someone snap a real whip back at her? It works on lions..."
Sirius: "Oh, I hate her."
“I do,” said Dumbledore bowing his head. “Please sit down.” It was not an order, it was a request.
Gabriel: "Oh, don't flatter yourself you little bint. Dumbledore ordered you to sit down, so sit."
Sirius: "Yes, don't presume to order Rose Potter around. She'll turn into a panther/gorilla/gerbil/pigeon hybrid animagus and baffle you to death with her Linnean illogic."
I hesitated, then walked slowly across the room now littered with silver cogs and fragments of wood, and took the seat facing Dumbledore’s desk.
“Rosey, I owe you an explanation,” said Dumbledore. “An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young…and I seem to have forgotten, lately…”
Gabriel: "Look, lad. I know Voldemort's got some age to him too, but all you need is a few new ideas, and it'll make you feel like you're having sex for the first time."
Sirius: "I know the feeling. That syphilitic cunt's put years on me. And in this case youth thinks about revenge and feels rage and dead boys. He'd be forgiven for not knowing the festering processes of her purulent little excuse for a mind."
The sun was rising properly now; there was a rim of dazzling orange visible over the mountains and the sky above it was colorless and bright. The light fell upon Dumbledore, upon the silver of his eyebrows and beard, upon the lines gouged deeply into his face.
“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection between you and Voldemort.”
Sirius: "Yep. She's his natural successor."
Gabriel: "Pre-bloody-cisely. Why does no one notice this?"
Sirius: "They're all insane?"
Gabriel: "They need more alcohol. This stuff makes you think clearly."
“I know this, Professor,” I said bluntly. I did not care about something as trivial as manners at the moment.
Sirius: "*sputters* When did you ever?"
“Yes,” said Dumbledore apologetically. “Yes, but you see – it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion.”
“I know,” I said wearily.
Sirius: "Yes, you've heard all this before, Rose. You knew that because you're sooooo bloody clever. Can someone please drop that argument for post-natal abortion down a fucking well?"
“And this ability of yours – to detect Voldemort’s presence, even when he is disguised, and to know what he is feeling when his emotions are roused – has become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers.”
I did not bother to nod. I knew all of this already.
“More recently,” said Dumbledore, “I became concerned that Voldemort might realize that this connection between you exists. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr Weasley.”
“Yeah, Professor Snape told me,” I muttered.
Siruus: "Is this 'nice' Snape, the mentorish potion's master?"
Gabriel: "Yes. Feel free to weep."
Sirius: "Riiiight. Not the miserable, embittered, intellectually arrogant, giant nosed, greasy haired prick that I went to school with?"
Gabriel: "No, apparently he's changed."
Sirius: "And got over his loathing of James and everything to do with him. That's handy for Rose."
Gabriel: "Isn't it?"
“But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you after I had taken such a direct hand in your tutelage before? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?”
Gabriel: "Because you knew that she would try to kill you at the first available opportunity?
Sirius: "He was uneasy about being caught in his office with a naked fifteen year old girl. The authorities tend to take a dim view of that kind of thing. I mean...mud sticks, you know? With his brother and the goat...people talk..."
I looked up. I could see now that Dumbledore looked sad and tired.
“Yes,” I said, the hurt apparent in my voice.
Gabriel: "Oh, the poor dear. Don't you just want to put her out of her misery?"
Sirius: "You're more hurt that Dumbledore wasn't staring at your norks than the fact that I'm DEAD? Thanks a bunch, bitch."
“You see,” Dumbledore continued, “I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts, and I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realized that our relationship was – or ever had been – closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me. I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Rosey, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way.”
Sirius: "Closer than headmaster and pupil? Oh dearie me...that does look VERY unsavoury, doesn't it?"
“Voldemort’s aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been my destruction. It would have been yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him. So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Rosey. An old man’s mistake…”
Gabriel: "I'd gladly sacrifice her to get to Voldemort. What's that saying about birds and stones?"
Sirius: "Omelettes and eggs."
Gabriel: "That too."
He sighed deeply. I would have been interested to know all this a few months ago, but now it was meaningless compared to the gaping chasm inside me that was the loss of Sirius; none of it mattered…
Sirius: "UUURGH. I do not wish to hear about your gaping chasm. It probably smells like a cross between Billingsgate fish market and a mortuary in August, being as it regulary recieves a portion of zombie-cock."
Gabriel: "*squirts whiskey out of his nose*"
“Sirius told me you felt Voldemort awake inside you
Gabriel: "*repeats*"
Sirius: "AAARGH! This just keeps getting worse! I never said that! Where's the booze? That's revolting!"
Gabriel: "*hands over a mug while wiping his nose off*"
Sirius: "Thank you. Is there anyone she hasn't had up her creamy way?"
the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Weasley’s attack. I knew at once that my worst fears were correct. Voldemort had realized he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort’s assaults on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.”
Gabriel: "What about her assaults on our minds?"
Sirius: "I can see where this is going... If there's innuendo about Snape being 'inside' her I'm afraid I am going to have to scream."
He paused. I watched the sunlight, which was sliding slowly across the polished surface of Dumbledore’s desk, illuminate a silver ink pot and a handsome scarlet quill. I could tell that the portraits all around us were awake and listening raptly to Dumbledore’s explanation; I could hear the occasional rustle of robes, the slight clearing of a throat.
“Professor Snape discovered,” resumed Dumbledore, “that you already had a rudimentary mastery of your own mind,
Gabriel: "Oh bloody -- not THAT thing again."
Sirius: "It's not a ninja thing, is it? Please tell me it's not a ninja thing."
Gabriel: "Yes, it is."
Sirius: "BOLLOCKS. She is full of more shit per square inch than a sewage plant."
and it has protected you somewhat, but not enough to fully shield your link to Voldemort. You had occasional dreams about the door to the Department of Mysteries for months. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body, and as he dwelled on the door, so did you, though you did not know what it meant.”
Sirius: "If Remus were here he would probably say that was somewhat Freudian and giggle."
(Right, snip the next canon paragraph.)
“Which, I know for fact, you have done quite well,” said Dumbledore a sad smile on his face. “Your skills allowed you to see through the vision for what it was,
Gabriel: "Oh fucking blow it out your arse."
Sirius: "Faaabulous. Another 'Let's all praise Rose' session."
it also did help that Sirius was with you when the vision came.
Sirius: Was I?
Gabriel: "That sounds like innuendo. I can't place it, but it sounds like innuendo. I need more booze."
Sirius: "Must have been drunk. I don't remember. Her company was always preferable when I was completely bladdered. I was sick on her tits once - did I mention that?"
Gabriel: "What did she do to you for it?"
Sirius: "Oh, she flashed her fancy contact lenses and ranted a bit, but I told her it was an accident. I was actually aiming for her FACE."
Well…you know what happened from there. You deduced immediately that it was trap for you. And you imagined upon a brilliant plan, to walk purposefully into this trap but with as much help as you could command at such short notice. You sent Sirius
Sirius: "How was that a brilliant plan, exactly?"
Gabriel: "... I'm sorry, something about 'walking into a trap' and 'brilliant plan' and 'sending Sirius, who is probably bladdered off his rocker' just shut down my brain."
Sirius: "I'm not being stupid, am I? But isn't that a completely SHIT plan?"
Gabriel: "Yes, yes it is."
Sirius: "It's probably the shittest plan since that Lockhead kid a couple of years below us tried to cool down the Hufflepuff Common Room with a snow spell. Summer of '76, that was. Bloody scorching. Kids ended up having to be treated for frostbite."
to muster myself and the Order to come to your aid as well, because you knew that however good you had trained your friends, that they were no real match for Death Eaters.”
Gabriel: "I'm rather surprised that she didn't singlehandedly take on all of the Death Eaters."
Sirius: "'However good'? No...this can't be Dumbledore. The real Dumbledore has a better grasp of grammar. Oh, I would have loved to see her if it was just mano e mano with her and Trixiebella. We used to call her that - Trixiebella. Used to drive her fucking MAD."
Dumbledore heaved a great sigh and continued, “Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin were at Headquarters when Sirius made contact. They all agreed at once to go to your aid.”
Sirius: "They didn't have much choice, did they? The Girl Who Lives blunders straight into a fucking TRAP."
Gabriel: "Remus must've done his bleeding heart bit."
Sirius: "I'll swing for the sod if he did."
“I don’t need a blow by blow account of the rest,” I said bluntly.
“I wasn’t going to,” said Dumbledore. “But it is time, for me tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Rosey. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience.” I glared at him for a moment.
“Go on,” I said wearily.
Gabriel: "'Wearily'? That snarky little..."
Sirius: "He only asks for patience. That's beyond her. Rude cow. I know I've got the manners of an inbred dog, but she's just something else."
(Snip)
“I asked you why Voldemort had decided to come after me as a baby,” I said, frowning as I remembered.
“Yes, but should I have told then?”
Gabriel: "What the bloody hell did he just say? Because I can't make heads or tails of it."
Sirius: "I don't know. He should have told her when she was a baby? She was thirteen months old. All she could say was Mama, Dada and poo poo."
(Snip)
“The prophecy’s destroyed,” I said heavily. “I stray curse hit my hand…”
Gabriel: "She's losing it too."
Sirius: "Irritable vowel syndrome?"
Gabriel: "Exactly."
(Snipsnip)
Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past me to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes’s perch. He bent down, slid back a catch and took from inside it the shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges, in which I had seen my father tormenting Professor Snape.
Gabriel: "Torment? You were there Sirius, you tell it."
Sirius: "Weeeellll...maybe we did get a bit of a rise out of him. But he was a twat. And some of those nasties in his Potions book... Okay, we were horrible little shitehawks, but he was using some seriously unpleasant dark magic. You know that scar Remus has across his face?"
Gabriel: "Yeah, I know the one."
Sirius: "A rather horrible little number called Sectumsempra did that one. I mean...okay. That was my fault. Remus was a werewolf at the time - hairy, you know. But how do you think we got Snape to keep schtum about Remus? James heard Snape casting Unforgiveables in the tunnel."
Gabriel: "Poor 'misunderstood' bastard my arse."
Sirius: "He's not. He's a nasty bit of work."
(Wow, there's a lot of canon. Snip.)
“Explain,” I stated hoarsely, though my feelings had given me an idea of what the prophecy was going to mean.
Sirius: "It said you would have jiggly tits, be a ninja and be a complete bitch to everyone around you."
Gabriel: "Ah, if only."
“It means,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This girl would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.”
“And I take it I was the only witch born in that month?” I asked, my breathing becoming choked.
Sirius: "You were the only hellspawn. That's for certain."
Gabriel: "For the bloody love of-- just strip Neville of one of his shining moments of revelation, why don't you, you little cuntsmear? Can't have that imperfect boy stepping in on your bloody moment of glory, eh?"
Sirius: "Cuntsmear. Well done. I am impressed. Of course - Frank and Alice's boy...he popped out around the same time, didn't he? Only with a winkie dinkie doo da, so he couldn't have Rose's amazing feminine powers."
Gabriel: "That'd be Neville. Of course, this universe -- which was crafted by her, I swear to Loki -- changed the prophecy to be female specific. I want to revert her to an egg and squash her under my boot."
Sirius: "B...but...Neville?"
Gabriel: "Right out of the running. What, would you expect HER to share the spotlight with a plebian like him? You must be joking, I thought you knew this girl."
Sirius: "Well...bang goes that interesting plot point then."
“Yes,” nodded Dumbledore. “The next part of the prophecy gives the final identifying feature of the girl who could vanquish Voldemort…Voldemort himself would mark her as his equal. And so he did, Rosey. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse.”
Sirius: "And made you look like a crap David Bowie fan from the Ziggy Stardust period."
(Snip)
“Why then did he try to kill me as a baby?” I said, feeling numb and cold. “He should have waited to see if I would be any threat to him. Prophecies are rarely black and white and can be interpreted in many ways until they are fulfilled.”
Sirius: "Darling - if I'd known you'd be this much of a vainglorious hellbeast, I would have killed you."
Gabriel: "... I'm sorry, what? YOU WERE THE ONLY RASSHOLE FEMALE BORN IN THE TIME PERIOD SPECIFIED IN THE BLEEDIN' PROPHECY? How the FUCKING CUNTING HELL COULD THAT BE INTERPRETED IN ANY OTHER WAY, THINE SAGGY TWATTED FUCKSTAIN?"
Sirius: "There's that to it. I'm surprised she's questioning it. It's her favourite, after all. It's all about HER!"
Gabriel: "Except when it's convenient, in which case it makes her look like a fucking idiot."
“Very true, that might, indeed, have been the more practical course,” said Dumbledore, “except that Voldemort’s information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog’s Head inn, which Sybill chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sybill Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My – our – one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building.”
Sirius: "The Rodent?"
Gabriel: "That just makes no bloody sense. How does that make sense? The complete prophecy lists her as the only one possible of fighting him... I'm done."
Sirius: "She's just that special."
“So he only heard…?”
“He only heard the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a girl in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have power the Dark Lord knows not…”
Gabriel: "Oh he found out later, he did. Ninja, Teleportation... I've sodding lost count, what else does she have?"
Sirius: "I knew Peter was thick but really... Silverback winged pussy or something."
Gabriel: "Right, that."
“What power have I got that he does not?” I asked in a strangled voice. “I though he was supposed to be my equal.”
Sirius: "Oh, what HAVEN'T you got, Missy?"
Gabriel: "... I refuse to believe that she's this stupid, I really do."
Sirius: "I don't. She's obviously a throwback on James' side of the family. He had a great Uncle who ate his own chin. Very stupid man."
“There is a room in the Department of Mysteries,” answered Dumbledore, “that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you had Occlumency skills. It was your heart that saved you.”
Sirius: "She has a heart?"
Gabriel: "... To... save... Siri... WHEN WERE YOU IN TROUBLE? I thought you were safe at the headquarters? I thought she recognised the vision as a trap! Oh bloody hell, I give up."
Sirius: "Yeah, but she's patently a cretin. I'm waiting for her to eat her own chin."
(Snip)
For a long time, neither of us spoke. Somewhere far beyond the office wall, I could hear the sound of voices, students heading down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, perhaps. It seemed impossible that there could be people in the world who still desired food, who laughed, who neither knew nor cared that Sirius Black was gone for ever.
Sirius: "Doesn't bother me. I never met them."
“I feel I owe you another explanation, Rosey,” said Dumbledore hesitantly. “You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess…that I rather thought…you had enough responsibility to be going on with.”
I looked up at him and saw a tear tricking down Dumbledore’s face into his long silver beard – and at that moment, all the anger, the rejection I had felt from the old man seemed to vanish in an instant. I walked around his desk and we hugged each other as grandfather to granddaughter.
Gabriel: "I'm going to be ill."
Sirius: "I'm going to get a bludger bat and stove her head in."
Gabriel: "Sadly, it's over. Well, I'm going to pull Remus from that horrible world, and then you, he and I can have comforting, drunken sex. I really can't conceive of anything else at the moment."
Sirius: "Yeah - alright then. Just don't hog the bottom spot. That's MINE."
Gabriel: "Right."
So, thanks to Notmonkey for sharing this atrocity with me. I hate this bint so very very much.
