Worthy Of Magic

Part 27 - Discovery

The centaurs don't go near the breach between the forests. The magic warned them away. It is the lair of a monster. They shouldn't intrude. The monster wouldn't like it.

Dumbledore ignored all the warnings that came his way. He could feel how strongly the magic of the forest was pushing him away. His magic responded to the warnings fiercely and he carried forward unimpeded.

There was a thickness in magic now. It felt thick, impenetrable. Harsh. More importantly it was familiar.

This was Harry's lair. The boy from the prophecy was the monster the centaurs feared. The tiny ray of hope he had for Harry diminished. He could no longer deny the truth that had been clear to him from the day he met Harry in Janus. He could no longer be blinded by the prophecy. The light had gone and he saw the truth.

If Harry had to be locked up he needed proof. Proof that Harry killed Tonks. Even after Harry had killed Remus he had held onto hope. Harry was attacked by a werewolf and not Remus. He knew that. Harry was only defending himself. And killing his relatives had only been a reaction to the extremes of abuse he had endured in that hell. Harry was a victim. He was a hero. He was the boy from the prophecy. He was the one who was going to defeat the Dark Lord for good.

But now. His hope hung on a thread that would either snap or remain depending on what he found when he reached the origin of the harsh magic.

He moved through the forest silently. He took sure and measured steps, always watching for signs. The magic felt like a strong wind now. It was always against him and his magic cut through it with the strength of a mountain.

Suddenly he saw it. A clearing a few meters to his left. He could see the moonlight shining through.

It took him a moment to understand what he had just walked into.

It was a divide between two forests made of sand. Sand that couldn't possibly exist in the Forbidden Forest.

"Stop," Dumbledore said out loud. His mind was leaping to conclusions. He had to think. He had to connect the dots. Moments in time stretching back to the day Harry murdered his relatives.

He tried to see the pattern. The shape Harry's life had taken. The day he heard the prophecy. The day he met Harry. The day he saw the remains of the troll. Trelawney's second prophecy. The night he saw Harry rip out the heart of a werewolf. The picture of Harry in the middle of the desert. The picture Snape saw in Harry's mind. And now a desert in the breach between forests.

Was it all part of the prophecies? What was going to happen? What did all of this mean? What did desert's have to do with this?

"So many things are happening," Dumbledore whispered. Muggleborns were rebelling. A pureblood bigot was Minister. The Dark Lord was returning. Unrest was rising in the Goblin nation. The centaurs were predicting a coming danger. Trelawney's prophecy predicted devastation and Harry Potter was walking down a dark path.

Magical Britain was stressed to its limits. Dumbledore knew the flashpoint was close. He had no idea what was going to happen when their world reached that point. The future was blotted with dark clouds.

He sighed and held his wand to his temple. Dumbledore closed his eyes and pulled his wand away. A thick string of silver mist came along with the wand and he directed it into a vial he had in his cloak. He was going to go deeper into the thoughts and memories later. First, he had to examine the magic here. Harry's magic. And also to find any evidence that Harry was the one who had killed Tonks.

Dumbledore knelt on the sand and placed both his hands on the surface and concentrated. He let his magic flow and connected with the nature of magic in the sand. Seconds passed by and then Dumbledore withdrew his hands. There was a frown on his face. The sand was not natural. The magic felt like transfiguration beyond anything he had ever seen. He wasn't able to understand it. It felt real. Permanent. There was no dispelling the magic and reverting it to its original state. What kind of magic was this?