Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame
Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling. The content is written for fun and not for profit.
Author's Note: Greetings to all my old readers. Here is your much awaited sequel to "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather". To new readers, I would recommend you read "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather" first, because this chapter will summarize the ending of the first book in my saga and thereby spoil the secrets of the first book. I welcome reviews from everyone who reads this, as your advice and criticism helps me to improve the saga of Albus Dumbledore at every step. Enjoy book two!
"As one door closes, so another opens"
Chapter 1 – A Light In The Darkness
Albus was surrounded by darkness, an omnipresent cloak of sweltering, repressive black. His eyes saw nothing but ebony. In this state, his other senses became ever more aware. He could hear his own breathing, and the shallow breathing of his nervous friend Mars McGonagall beside him. He could smell the musky odour of a place that had not disturbed for years. And his hands clutched at the stone wall beside him.
'I wish you'd brought your wand,' Mars whispered; so quietly Albus barely heard him. It was as though Mars was afraid to disturb the countless ghosts that were surely floating around in the black. These ghosts, or course, existed entirely in Albus' and Mars' imaginations. But then again, two eleven year-old boys; skulking around in a place where they should not be, at a time when they should be in bed; probably deserved to be scared witless by the thought of ghosts.
'It's not my fault I left it behind,' Albus whispered back. 'I left it in my father's suitcase for safekeeping and you know we couldn't tiptoe into his tent in the middle of the night. It would be worth more than our lives to risk doing that. Besides, where is your wand?'
'I forgot it,' Mars said meekly. 'Maybe we should just go back, this is creeping me out.'
'No,' Albus said, a little too loudly. Both boys went rigid, their ears pricked to the darkness to hear if they had accidentally disturbed a mummy or something equally terrifying. When Albus was certain that they had not, he continued, 'we're going home to Wales tomorrow, so this was our last chance to explore the place by ourselves.'
'Well then, you should have brought your wand,' Mars said sulkily.
Albus had to admit, it was rather poor planning on his part to have forgotten his wand on such a crucial adventure as this one. He and Mars had been invited to spend the last two weeks accompanying Albus' father on his latest expedition to Egypt. Last year, the famed Archaeowizard, Archaeon Dumbledore, had taken Albus to the sands of Egypt where he had unearthed the ancient city of Heliopolis and the crypt of the dark wizard Imhotep. Albus had enjoyed that holiday immensely, but could never have known that he would return to Imhotep's crypt later in the year for a thrilling and near fatal adventure involving a corrupt Headmaster, a backstabbing teacher and the rebirthing of Imhotep. Albus had used all his skills (and these were many) to transfigure a phoenix feather into an actual singing phoenix. The song of the magical bird had destroyed the evil Imhotep before he took form as a permanently reborn wizard. Albus had saved the wizarding world, Headmaster Phineas Nigellus had been forced to resign and everything had been set right. Archaeon had insisted that Albus' achievement be kept secret, which had naturally resulted in the entire school knowing.
Albus Dumbledore and Mars McGonagall were students both of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Both were members of Gryffindor House, and both were about to embark on their second year at the wizard school. On the day that the Hogwarts Express left Kings Cross Station in London, September the first, Albus would be turning twelve, and a whole new year at Hogwarts beckoned. After the rampant adventures of his first year, Albus rather hoped he could have a quiet year and get along with the business of learning.
Which begged the question; what was Albus doing in a strange place in total darkness, just days before his new school year was about to begin? The answer lay in the fact that this trip, unlike the last one, had been rather uneventful and boring. Archaeon Dumbledore had been preoccupied with the excavation of an ancient Temple of Ast, the Egyptian Goddess Isis. He had spent so much time engrossed in his work that Albus and Mars had felt somewhat neglected. There was only so much fun to be garnered from watching an Archaeowizard using his wand to vanish great quantities of sand to reveal a Temple underneath; even if it was a beautiful building.
But what had interested Mars and Albus had been a conversation they had overheard between Archaeon and his fellow Archaeowizard, Januar Solstice, just a few days ago.
'I'm convinced we've found it,' Januar had said in excited tones one evening, sitting in a tent with Archaeon. Albus and Mars had been walking by the tent by coincidence, and took to listening through the fabric as Januar continued to speak. 'The ankh symbols all point to it, and if I'm correct in my assumptions, it is in the very innermost chamber.'
'I do not doubt you are correct,' Archaeon had said calmly. 'But stop talking while my son and his friend are eavesdropping. Albus, Mars, get away before I hex you both!'
Albus sometimes forgot what a good wizard his father was. Needless to say, he and Mars had heard enough to pique their interest and had decided to explore this inner chamber themselves on the last night of their stay in Egypt. They both hoped to extract something memorable from their holiday.
So here they were; Albus having apparated himself and Mars into what they hoped was the inner chamber of Archaeon's excavations. Apparation was a difficult magical skill, one which most wizards or witches only learned in their late teens. But Albus had been born with the unusual ability to apparate at will, a skill that had set him apart from an early age as being a wizard of remarkable potential. Apparation required that you knew where you were going, so Albus relied on a brief glimpse of a dark chamber he had captured whilst tailing his father one afternoon. The way Archaeon had chased him off had led him to hope that he was on to something interesting. Now, he and Mars were there, with no light to guide them and feeling rather stupid about it all.
'So what do we do now?' Mars asked.
'I do not know,' Albus admitted. 'Maybe if I summon Fawkes he can give us some light.'
Fawkes was Albus' pet phoenix, who had "adopted" him at the beginning of last year. The fantastic bird of crimson and gold plumes with magical abilities far beyond anything a human could manage had saved Albus' bacon more than once last year. It had taken an Avada Kedavra for Albus, as well as warning him on several occasions during the year when he was in danger. Fawkes was Albus' best friend.
At Albus' beckoning, the bird appeared in a flash of flame. Immediately the room was lit up. Mars' green eyes glowed like emeralds under a scalp of straight brown hair. Albus' own chestnut hair glowed like fiery gold from Fawkes' flame. Now phoenixes did not normally act as torches, but the bird was intelligent enough to light a torch in its bracket against the wall. He fluttered over to rest on Albus' shoulder, while the two boys took in the chamber.
They were in a large square room, the walls of which were painted with magnificent hieroglyphics. A woman with golden skin or deep black skin featured prominently in the pictures, often holding a child with a very distinctly painted black eye. Albus, who was widely read on Egyptian magic, knew this to be Isis and her adopted son Horus. The symbol of an ankh was also in prominence. This inverted cross with a circular loop at the top was the symbol of femininity, and also a charm used to enhance longevity. There were pillars in the middle of the chamber as well, all of which were beautifully painted. The walls were yellow, and the paints were pastel blue, brown, green, black, red or white. Albus and Mars both knew that they were in a very special room.
Albus' eyes were drawn to the very centre of the room. There, hundreds of sheets of metal arched out like the feathers of a male pheasant. The light from the flickering torch caught the metal at different angles, colouring the sheets bronze, silver, gold and various tones of yellow through orange through red. At the very core of this decoration was a simple black opening, through which Albus and Mars could vaguely see what looked like a torch. Except that it was not burning.
'Looks like it is meant to be a flame or something,' Mars said. 'It looks important with all this metal here. And the ankhs are pointing to it. Maybe this is what Mr Solstice was talking about.'
'You are right about that,' Albus said, nodding. 'This sure is an impressive looking torch. But why is it not burning?'
'Should it be?' Mars wondered.
'Well, I read about a myth,' Albus said, 'in Magyk before the fall of Empyres, by Achmed Al-Mohammed. Apparently when Isis married Ra, the Egyptian Sun-God, he gave her a gift of everlasting fire or something like that. It was said that she kept it in one of her Temples.'
'Are you saying that this is supposed to be an everlasting fire?' Mars said, gaping at the dark hole.
'Well, maybe,' Albus said, scratching his nose thoughtfully. It was slightly crooked, after a rock had fallen on his face in Imhotep's crypt at the end of his first year. Albus could have had it corrected by magic, but he chose to keep the crooked nose as a remembrance for his first grand adventure. He turned to Mars, shrugging his shoulders, and said, 'but Isis had hundreds of Temples all over Egypt. This could be the one, or it could be a distraction. The real thing is probably somewhere else; because an everlasting fire is … well, everlasting. And this one clearly is not burning.'
'What a pity,' Mars said. 'We did all this for nothing.' Mars looked quite dejected. When he had first learned that he was going to escape his neglectful family for a two week odyssey to the Egyptian desert with his friend Albus and his great Archaeowizard father, Mars had been ecstatic. He had envisaged himself battling dark Egyptian wizards, collecting artifacts and seeing mummies come to life. But none of these had eventuated, excepting the times when Archaeon had allowed them to dust off golden chalices or look at crumbling papyri. On his first real adventure since arriving in Egypt, Mars had been left feeling disappointed.
Albus seemed to sense his friend's dejection. He looked around the room, willing a mummy to materialize and give them something to do. He noticed a chest in the corner, half open and apparently filled with shiny objects.
'Look, Mars,' he cried, 'treasure!'
The boys scampered over to the chest and lifted the lid so that its contents were fully exposed. To their surprise they discovered that it was full of amulets, all in the unmistakable shape of an ankh. They were almost all made purely out of gold, with gems placed inside the circular loop at the top of the cross.
'What do you think?' Mars said after a long and thoughtful pause. 'Do you think we can get away with taking one each?'
Albus would not have gone as far as to suggest that, but after contemplating the matter for a moment, he realized that this was not such a bad idea.
'After all,' he voiced his thoughts out loud, 'there must be a thousand of these things in here. Surely it will not matter if we take one each.'
Mars' hand dived into the chest and emerged moments later with a fine golden ankh, its loop decorated with a brilliant green emerald. The light from the flickering torch behind them glimmered on the surface of the gem, giving it an almost milky quality.
'Are you going to take one or not?' Mars said. He was flushed red with the realization that he had just stolen from an ancient archaeowizarding dig. Albus realized that his friend was waiting for him to do the same. He examined the various ankhs, wondering what would suit him best. Eventually his eyes came to rest on the solitary ankh in the whole case that had a blue stone in its loop. Albus picked it up, his own blue eyes entranced by the shimmering sapphire in the ankh.
'We just cannot tell anyone about this,' Albus said, pocketing the ankh and turning a wary eye on Mars. If anyone finds out, we will be dead meat.'
'Of course I will not tell anyone,' Mars said. 'Although it is not like these things are going to be missed, is it? There are so many of them.'
Albus agreed, but a queasy feeling remained in his stomach. He was a good son; obedient, loyal, honest and always striving to meet the high standards set by his remarkable father. But every now and again Albus did something reckless. It was as though he itched to break free and be his own person, to do as he wished. Albus did not realize it, but at nearly twelve years of age he was starting to grow up. His teenage years were nearing, and the faultless, innocent child of old was on a path to adulthood. True rebellion would not come for a few years yet, but the journey had begun.
Albus and Mars returned to stare at the gaping hole in the middle of the fanned out strips of metal. Their eyes seemed to will the torch to burst into flame, as though it was wrong for there to be no light issuing from the hole.
That is when the torchlight flickered out all of a sudden and the chamber was cast into total darkness once more. Albus ceased to feel Fawkes' feet on his shoulder. Mars let out a shriek of fear.
'There are no mummies here,' said the deep, lustrous voice of Archaeon Dumbledore from behind them. Mars and Albus spun around and were temporarily blinded by the glow of Archaeon's wand. When they had successfully blinked away the tears and become accustomed to this new source of light, they looked up at the stern face of Albus' father with a different kind of fear in them.
Albus felt afraid because he knew that his hide could be tanned for being caught inside a chamber in one of Archaeon's digs in the middle of the night. Mars felt afraid for Albus, but also afraid that Archaeon might become as angry with him as to never let him visit again. Mars had spent last Christmas with the Dumbledores (during which Fawkes had taken them on a strange expedition to Imhotep's crypt), because his own family had not wanted him home during the holidays. The McGonagalls were kept very busy at the Ministry of Magic and their youngest son had always got in the way. Being permitted to visit the Dumbledores was an enormous treat for Mars; and right now, he was terrified that this privilege was in jeopardy.
To they boys' surprise, however, Archaeon did not launch into a savage display of anger as they might have expected. Instead, he lit a few of the wall-bound torches with his wand and started strolling around the chamber as if it was the Dumbledore living room.
'A fascinating place; is it not?' he said.
'Erm … yes, father,' Albus managed. Mars gave him a quizzical look. Albus shrugged in reply.
'I see you two have located the Everlasting Flame in the Temple of Ast,' Archaeon said mildly, coming to a stop in front of the mysterious sheets of metal. Albus and Mars walked up beside him, their curiosity now burning as fiercely as the supposed flame was not.
'Excuse me, Mr Dumbledore,' Mars said politely, 'but how can it be everlasting if, well, if it is not even burning?'
'Ah, excellent question,' Archaeon said. His blue eyes sparkled down at the boys over his oversized nose. Archaeon was a handsome man, with tanned skin lined by wrinkles and a long auburn beard tailing down his great chest. His son had inherited the hair and the eyes, but where Archaeon was tall and strong, Albus was short and skinny. Albus was also without a beard, as a father might expect of his eleven year old son.
'Father!' exclaimed Albus in protest. He was much too accustomed to Archaeon making mysterious statements and then not going on to provide an elaboration for any patience. Albus was itching to know what the story behind the absent Everlasting Flame was.
'What?' asked Archaeon. He wore a look of fake surprise.
'Just tell us why the Everlasting Flame has stopped burning!' Albus cried.
'I do not know why it has stopped burning,' Archaeon said. Albus and Mars both gave deflated sighs. 'Mythically speaking, the flame should continue to burn to this day. Unless it has been moved, or the magic behind it destroyed, I myself am at a loss as to its absence.'
'Do you think somebody stole it?' Mars suggested.
'Maybe the Egyptians were not good enough to create a truly everlasting flame,' Albus added. He regretted the statement immediately. Having read all fifty volumes of Achmed Al-Mohammed's history series, he knew that the Egyptians were, perhaps, the greatest witches and wizards of all time.
'Admirable suggestions,' Archaeon said; as if to cover up his son's self-disappointment. 'Neither correct, however. I have theories of my own, but I will not share them with either of you. What I will recommend, however, is that you both return to your tent and get a good night's sleep. We have a busy day ahead, packing our equipment and returning to Wales.'
Albus was just about to take Mars' arm and apparate with him back to their tent when Archaeon performed a summoning charm. The ankhs flew out of Mars' and Albus' pockets and landed square in Archaeon's callused hands.
'Interesting choices,' Archaeon said. He was frustratingly cool, without showing a hint of annoyance that Albus and his friend had taken what was not theirs to take. Archaeon Dumbledore's ability to remain unflappable and calm in any situation was something that Albus found highly frustrating at times, but admired all the same. Had you asked Mars, he would have said that Albus possessed this same frustrating yet admirable characteristic, and it was easy to see that he had inherited it from his father.
'I am sorry, father,' Albus said. 'We just … we just thought …'
'You thought that because there are thousands of them that it would be okay to take one,' Archaeon said. There was the vaguest hint of disapproval in his voice, and his blue eyes had hardened slightly.
'I am sorry too, Mr Dumbledore,' Mars said, flushing red.
'Do not be,' Archaeon said, smiling once more. 'I promised you both at least one artifact to take home with you from this trip. It would seem that you have both made your choices.'
'So we can keep them?' Albus said hopefully.
'Yes, you may,' Archaeon said. He handed them both back their ankhs. He stopped them from disapparating once more, and said, 'next time, ask before you take. I am surely not that frightening as to be unapproachable.'
'Of course not,' Albus said, feeling foolish, 'thank you, father.'
'A pleasure,' Archaeon said; blue eyes twinkling magisterially. 'Now get to bed.'
Mars and Albus were too excited to sleep for several hours afterwards, however. They lay in the silky sheets of their beds in their tent, chattering eagerly about the mystery of the missing Everlasting Flame. They talked until they had exhausted all the many dozen possibilities to explain its disappearance, until the first light of dawn was creeping under the edge of the tent like a grey mist, and until their heads hurt from lack of sleep and their eyes were so sore and tired that they burned like fire.
At last, with the first stirrings of activity happening in the camp around them, Mars and Albus fell asleep; each dreaming of a single white flame emerging from the dark centre of the shimmering metal decoration in the Temple of Ast.
But that was where the mystery came to an abrupt end. The boys' dreams were shattered like a burst bubble when Archaeon woke them up at midday to assist with the bringing down of the tents and the packing of the equipment. By the time they had arrived back in Wales to the announcement by Albus' mother Lubo Dumbledore that they were visiting Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase their goods for the new school year; both Mars and Albus had forgotten about the Everlasting Flame.
A new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was an event of such import and excitement that a missing fire in a distant country became about as important as a pumpkin in a puddle. Albus was going back to his favourite place in the world. He was going to be reunited with his best friends, the self-named "Pirates". He was going to become reacquainted with the portraits, teachers, ghosts, other students and Peeves the Poltergeist; all of whom he had met in his first year.
Albus was going back to Hogwarts.
Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed the first new chapter of a brand new adventure. I have started it in Egypt once again, for a very good reason (not just that Archaeon Dumbledore spends most of his time in Egypt). JK Rowling once remarked that Albus Dumbledore was knowledgeable in ancient and powerful Egyptian magic. So, as Albus' is schooled in magic at Hogwarts, so he acquires knowledge from Egypt as well. I don't have to tell you that this chapter will become very important later on …
Please review as frequently as you did with my first story. Your advice and encouragement is really what keeps me going, and helps me to write better all the time.