Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

The headmaster's tone was calm, but Ian could hear the undercurrent of strategy behind his words. 

This seasoned tactician had made himself seem vulnerable just to lure Voldemort into a trap. While the Dark Lord had believed he was outwitting his old teacher, he had been observed the entire time, his every move accounted for.

"The Philosopher's Stone?"

Ian sighed, a touch of regret in his voice. He'd known the Stone's magic was likely near depletion, but what wizard could resist the chance to study the fabled Philosopher's Stone firsthand?

Pity.

Professor Flamel might never craft another. And Ian, recalling that the old alchemist had said he would leave many things in Ian's care, felt as if, if you rounded up a little, he was now owed quite a bit by the recently deceased Voldemort.

Still, with fragments of the Dark Lord's soul remaining, there was unfinished business. That thought lightened Ian's mood somewhat.

"You certainly know more than most," Albus Dumbledore observed, looking at Ian with quiet intensity. But he didn't pry into where that knowledge came from.

There were some things, and he already suspected well enough.

"Honestly, I thought the Philosopher's Stone was just a decoy. Never expected ol' noseless Tom to actually resurrect. Gave me quite the scare when I entered that chamber."

Ian's confusion was genuine. He truly hadn't anticipated Voldemort returning to physical form, but thankfully, he'd taken plenty of precautions. By his own reckoning, he'd had about a ninety-percent chance of winning.

It had been perilous, no doubt, but the outcome had turned out well enough.

"It's only through risk that we glimpse true weakness… Although yes, there was a bit of selfishness involved as well," Dumbledore admitted with a heavy sigh. His expression revealed a hint of disappointment. Clearly, not all of his aims had come to fruition.

Tom Riddle…

Still as disappointing as ever.

"I took a huge risk this time. You should at least give me a Contribution Award, the kind presented with great fanfare in front of everyone," Ian said, putting on an expression of lingering dread for added effect.

"You certainly deserve one. Without a doubt, you've fulfilled your promise to Hogwarts." Albus Dumbledore didn't disagree and gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Which version of the timeline are you from now?" Ian asked, content for the moment as he returned to his lamb leg. He had to admit, the house-elves at Hogwarts were exceptionally gifted.

The lamb's outer skin was a perfect golden crisp, while the meat inside remained soft and succulent. The seasoning had worked its way right through to the bone, leaving no trace of gaminess behind.

Even the spiciness of the chili had been expertly calibrated, fiery enough to excite the tongue but not overwhelming after a few mouthfuls.

"Due to certain laws surrounding time travel, I'm afraid I cannot tell you that, for safety's sake, you understand," Albus Dumbledore replied, lowering his eyes briefly to the Time-Turner that hung from a thin chain around his neck. 

This wasn't the old, repaired one he'd once commissioned from Nicolas Flamel, but a more recent model, an officially sanctioned Time-Turner, newly issued by the Department of Magical Temporal Affairs.

As headmaster of Hogwarts, acquiring one hadn't been especially difficult.

"It must be from the future, then. You clearly knew what happened in the underground chamber," Ian said, drawing a conclusion based on the clues he'd gathered.

Albus Dumbledore gave no verbal confirmation but offered a small, noncommittal nod.

"Imagine, Hogwarts playing host to three versions of you at once... my poor senior must be pulling his beard out," Ian muttered, taking a thoughtful sip of the lemonade to counteract the lingering spice.

But then, he caught a glint in Dumbledore's eye.

"????"

Ian, who had always prided himself on reading expressions well, instantly sensed something deeper behind the old man's calm smile. His eyes, already large, widened further.

"Are there more than three of you there!?" He nearly dropped his goblet in astonishment.

Dumbledore said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.

Ian leaned forward, curiosity flaring.

"Five? Six? Seven or eight of you wandering about the castle?" His voice shifted from incredulous to hesitant as he worked through the possibilities.

The look on Dumbledore's face was now inscrutable.

"I'm in the middle of writing a rather unorthodox study on magical temporal mechanics," The old headmaster admitted vaguely. "I've taken a few... advanced measures to better understand the deeper laws governing time."

The response was evasive, and Ian knew it. His mind was already leaping ahead to increasingly absurd possibilities.

"But we all know that using Time-Turners comes at a cost. Interfering too much with time only leads to disaster. The archives are full of wizards who vanished without a trace during temporal experiments."

"No one truly knows what they attempted to do, or how they disappeared. All the evidence points to the same thing: Time-Turners can't rewrite fate." Ian didn't doubt that Dumbledore knew all this better than he did, but he still felt compelled to remind him.

Dumbledore simply inclined his head. "I am keenly aware of the perils of time travel. The more versions of oneself that exist in a single strand of time, the more likely it is that calamity will strike. But I also believe I will not become one of those nameless, vanished souls. I know the boundaries that must not be crossed."

"Someone must explore the limits of what's possible. At this moment, that someone is me. I firmly believe that which is still misunderstood can, in time, be fully grasped."

Dumbledore's voice was calm, almost gentle, but it carried an unwavering conviction. It was the voice of a man who had scaled the very heights of the magical world and believed he could climb further still.

"I hope you do know what you're doing..." Ian muttered, swatting away a sneaky hand trying to nick the last lamb leg. He tore off the lamb's rump instead and handed it, somewhat reluctantly, to Dumbledore.

The old headmaster accepted it with a chuckle.

"Your concern isn't misplaced. I won't pretend everything is guaranteed to go smoothly. That's precisely why I had you face Voldemort today."

Dumbledore placed the lamb rump down on a side plate, probably something only Aberforth would appreciate.

"To test whether I could handle Old Noseless without backup?" Ian asked, washing down another bite with lemonade. The chili was beginning to bite back.

"No."

Dumbledore shook his head gently. His gaze sharpened, deepening behind the lenses of his half-moon glasses as he looked at the young wizard before him.

The next line felt as though it carried weight beyond the room, beyond even time itself.

"To see if you could… shatter fate."

There was a note of satisfaction in the old man's voice. "And you did. You tore a hole right through the web of destiny. That changes everything."

He noticed Ian's cup was empty and gave a casual flick of his wand. The lemonade refilled itself instantly, the glass misting with chill.

"There's still a snake and a diary left, I could take care of them, no problem." Ian looked up at the headmaster with an eager glint in his eyes. He wasn't even trying to hide his enthusiasm for dismantling the rest of Voldemort's soul.

The magical glyphs that had once marked his skin were slowly fading now, and he could feel his own power continuing to rise. He just didn't yet know what path would lead him to the so-called 'legendary tier', that elusive place in magical lore.

"Hmm?"

Albus Dumbledore's brows lifted slightly in surprise. Ian clearly knew far more than he had expected. Even Grindelwald had never pieced together the full truth about Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"You really are… remarkably concerned about the Dark Lord," Said the old headmaster, at a slight loss for how to assess Ian's intricate knowledge of Voldemort. Still, he understood why Ian harboured such fervent interest.

"Well, I've always dreamt of being the one to bring down the Dark Lord," Ian replied, his voice brimming with genuine passion.

"…"

Albus Dumbledore found himself increasingly unsure how to respond. He recalled Ian's confrontation with Voldemort, it hadn't felt like a champion toppling a dark tyrant.

No, it had seemed more like… a first-year showing up the faded remnants of a bygone era.

"Can you locate the rest? I only know the diary's at the Malfoy estate; I'm not entirely sure where the snake is," Ian asked eagerly, his tone suggesting he had plenty more to say.

Dumbledore's eyes drifted slightly. "That makes six. But what of the seventh? Since you can see so much, I imagine you've also come to some understanding about the final Horcrux."

He studied the young wizard, who for the moment had forgotten his roast lamb entirely.

(To Be Continued…)

You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395