A Story of Mortality

Chapter 6

In the large sitting room, a roaring fire lent some warmth to the Prewetts' home, despite the relative size of it. Ignatius and Lucretia were sat, peacefully, drinking tea and discussing the latest news in The Prophet, when Albus Dumbledore suddenly firecalled them.

Ignatius was rather befuddled by the appearance of his old friend, and Lucretia looked somewhat unimpressed, though she did not do much to show it other than continue to drink her tea in silence. Dumbledore, however, looked grave, and Ignatius was suddenly worried as to what might have gone wrong. Certainly, Dumbledore rarely visited looking such a way, nor ever at such a time; he was usually his normal carefree self, opting to keep politics to the politicians and only calling for organised friendly catch-ups.

"Albus, my good friend!" Ignatius exclaimed, setting down his tea. "What brings you to call at such a late time in the evening? Has something happened?" He worried, not feeling reassured by the frown furrowing in Dumbledore's eyebrows. The crackling of the fire around the older man made him seem almost sinister.

"Ignatius, my good man. It is good to see you again, though I am very sorry for it to be under such circumstances," Dumbledore spoke, and Ignatius frowned too, in concern. "I was wondering if you would be able to join me and some other Light families for something of a meeting in the late afternoon tomorrow. I know it is on short notice, but I have some terrible concerns. I don't know if you've noticed, Ignatius, but the Dark has become incredibly powerful recently, and I don't know how long it'll be before they make a move against us. I want to set up an organisation to counteract that. We may well be heading for war, my friend," Dumbledore finished gravely.

"I'm sure I will be able to make it, Albus, for such a serious issue," Ignatius agreed, suddenly feeling very worried.

"Very good, I shall see you tomorrow my friend," and then Dumbledore left their fireplace.

"He cannot be serious, Ignatius?" Lucretia finally spoke up, the hand holding her tea trembling slightly.

"I really am unable to say. Albus is a strange man, true, and I certainly have not noticed a threat to the Light, but... he is an intelligent and kind man. I would trust him with my life."

The water at the shore of the lake was clear, though as Harry stared down at the rocks beneath it his reflection stared back up at him, rippling slightly. He had never felt comfortable having a reflection. He did not know much about dimensions, but he had also feared that it was another version of himself looking back at him. Him in appearance, and in experience, but not... him. As if the eyes were not quite his eyes. It was a disturbing thought.

The strength and heat of the sun was bearing heavily against the back of his neck, and he crouched to delicately take some of the water and relieve his neck. But he was grateful for the sun, as his views of the lake were magnificent. Gurudongmar Lake, in India, was a deep blue in the sun, and the mountains that fringed the water were reflected in an only slightly tainted mirror image. It reminded Harry that there were so many more places in the world of similar beauty that he had yet to visit, and probably never would. The beauty of the world could only be glimpsed by human eye. He wondered, then, if Voldemort would use his immortality to travel every inch of the world. If Harry had immortality, he was sure that that was what he would do.

Harry had left one of his followers, a Finnish witch named Twain, in charge while he was away, with instructions to keep a sharp eye on the activities of politics in Britain and to stay in the country. He was surprised that so many of his followers, not being English, were happy to have such a focus in Britain, though he supposed with the threat to the image and respectability of the Dark that Voldemort posed it made sense to them.

A more violent ripple then hit the water, and Harry could see two figures begin to emerge, crawling out of the water and then reaching their full height. Harry had imagined rather crudely that Naga, being so closely tied with the human race many centuries ago, would have something of a half snake half human appearance. This turned out not to be the case. The two Naga that approached him were largely snake-like in form, with only a more humanoid face and mouth, on which Harry was able to recognise joy. One was a watery blue, and the other a watery green, and their scales shone brilliantly in the sunlight.