Magical Marvel: The Rise of Arthur Hayes

The night air in Hogsmeade bit through their soaked robes as Harry and Dumbledore materialized with a soft pop.

Water dripped from their clothes, each drop carrying memories of skeletal hands and poisoned desperation. Harry's teeth chattered uncontrollably—from cold or lingering terror, he couldn't tell.

For one horrible moment, shadows between shops morphed into Inferi in his mind, their dead fingers reaching. He blinked hard. Nothing moved. The village slept peacefully, unaware of the horror they'd escaped.

"Professor!" Harry whispered hoarsely. "Are you all right?"

"I've been better," Dumbledore said weakly, though a flicker of amusement played at the corners of his mouth. "That potion... was no health drink…"

Despite everything, Harry felt urgency burning through exhaustion. "Sir, I know this isn't the time, but—the Horcrux. Can I see it?"

With effort, Dumbledore reached into his soaked robes and withdrew the locket. "Here it is."

"I have bad news, Professor." Harry's heart sank even as he spoke. "This Horcrux is a fake. The whole thing… it was for nothing."

Shock rippled across Dumbledore's face. He snatched the locket back, examining it with desperate eyes. At once, he knew. This was not the Slytherin's locket he had sought.

With fumbling fingers, he pried it open. A folded parchment fell out.

The note was brief, devastating:

To the Dark Lord,

I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B.

"R.A.B.?" Dumbledore's frown deepened. "I don't—"

"Regulus Arcturus Black." Harry's voice went flat as stone. "Sirius's brother."

The meaning sank in like a stone.

"Sirius destroyed the real Horcrux last year," Harry continued. "With my help. Regulus stole it first, probably died getting it. Sirius found it at Grimmauld Place, and we destroyed it with basilisk venom."

In the silence that followed, Harry could hear the universe laughing at them.

"We risked everything," Harry said bitterly. "Nearly died. For nothing."

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "I should have shared more... spoken to Sirius."

"But you never do." Bitterness leaked through Harry's exhaustion. "Your secrets, Professor. Always your precious secrets."

Before Dumbledore could answer, a silver cat Patronus shimmered into existence. McGonagall's voice rang out:

"Headmaster! Death Eater attack at the castle. Captured by Aurors. No casualties, but return immediately!"

All weariness vanished from Dumbledore's face. "Harry, the brooms. Quickly!"

They summoned their brooms and launched into darkness. Wind tore at their wet robes, turning the flight into frozen misery. The flight back to Hogwarts felt like an eternity.

They landed on the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore stumbling slightly.

"There's no need to rush, Professor," Harry said. "I warned Sirius. Looks like he managed to stop the Death Eaters."

"Well done, Harry," Dumbledore said faintly, but with pride. "Now please—fetch Severus. I need to hear the full story. Wear your cloak just in case"

Harry did so and hurried toward the spiral staircase door. His fingers had barely brushed metal when footsteps pounded up the spiral stairs—too fast, too desperate.

He whirled toward Dumbledore, who made a sharp gesture: Retreat.

Harry backed away, drawing his wand.

The door burst open.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted a voice.

Harry froze—body rigid, breath locked in his lungs—as he fell backward against the wall. His limbs refused to move.

But Harry's paralysis came not from Draco's spell—that had been aimed at Dumbledore—but from the Headmaster's wandless magic. Frozen like a statue, Harry could only watch as Dumbledore's wand arced through the air, disappearing over the ramparts.

The fraction of a second Dumbledore had spent protecting Harry had cost him his only defense.

Yet the old wizard showed no fear. He stood against the battlements with the same calm he'd display over tea, addressing his disarmer with gentle courtesy.

"Good evening, Draco."

Malfoy stepped fully into view, eyes darting around the tower. His gaze caught on the second broom.

"Who else is here?"

"A question I might ask you," Dumbledore replied. "Your allies have been captured. But how did you get them in?"

"The Room of Requirement." Terror and pride warred in Draco's voice. "It gave me what I needed."

"Ahh..." Dumbledore sighed. "A flaw in Hogwarts defenses I didn't think would be exploited so easily. I'll need to fix that soon."

What he didn't say: he had deliberately left the passage open. A hidden escape route embedded into the castle's design by the Founders - accessible only to the Headmaster, and opened last month for Draco to use.

"You won't have the chance," Draco said, lifting his wand. "I'm going to kill you."

"My dear boy, let's not pretend. If you were going to kill me, you would've done so the moment you disarmed me."

"I don't have a choice!" Malfoy shouted. He looked ghostly, like someone already halfway to death. "He'll kill me—he'll kill my family!"

"I understand," Dumbledore said gently. "That's why I've not confronted you before. If the Dark Lord suspected I knew, he would've had you murdered."

Draco flinched at the name.

"But you do have a choice," Dumbledore continued. "No one else knows what happened. You can walk away. I'll make sure your family is safe."

"You can't!" Draco's wand trembled violently. "He told me to do it. He said... if I didn't..."

"Come over to the right side, Draco. I can hide you. The Order can reach your mother tonight. Your father is safe for now in Azkaban. When the time comes, we can protect him too. You're not a killer."

Draco stared, tortured. "But I got this far, didn't I? They all thought I'd fail, but I'm here… and you're defenseless... I have the wand…"

"You're still not a killer."

"How would you know?" he whispered. "How would you know what I am?"

"Because I've watched you all year. The poisoned mead. The cursed necklace. Your heart wasn't in it."

"Shut up!" The wand wavered. "I have to do this. I have to—"

Footsteps thundered on the stairs.

Snape emerged, black robes billowing, eyes sharp and cold.

"We need to move," Snape said shortly. "The professors will be here any moment."

"Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice weighted with something Harry couldn't decipher. "Please."

Snape hesitated.

For one terrible moment, his face showed something—regret, or resolve, or perhaps both.

His wand rose with terrible purpose.

"Avada Kedavra."

The words emerged flat, empty of emotion. Green light erupted with the force of ending worlds.

Dumbledore met it with open eyes. The curse struck, and for one impossible moment he seemed to hang suspended, robes spread against the stars like broken wings.

Then gravity claimed him.

He tumbled backward over the ramparts, falling into darkness, into legend, into memory.

Gone.

"NO!"

Harry exploded from paralysis, the Invisibility Cloak pooling at his feet. Raw magic crackled around him as he raised his wand, but Snape moved with viper swiftness.

"Run!" He seized Draco's arm with bruising force. "NOW!"

They plunged down the stairs with Harry howling behind them, his spells lighting the walls with fury.

"STUPEFY! IMPEDIMENTA! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

Snape deflected everything without turning, dragging the stumbling Draco along. They burst onto the grounds as chaos erupted throughout the castle.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

The curse tore from Harry's soul, dark and vicious. Snape spun, batting it aside with contemptuous ease.

"You dare?" For the first time, emotion blazed in those dead eyes. "You dare use my own invention against me?"

"Your—"

"I am the Half-Blood Prince, you ignorant child!" Rage transformed Snape's face into something inhuman. "Every spell in that book, every innovation—MINE! And you would turn them against me like your arrogant father?"

Harry lunged for his wand. Snape's hex sent it spinning into shadow.

But reinforcements were coming. Shouts echoed across the grounds. Snape grabbed Draco with both hands.

"This isn't over!" Harry screamed.

"No," Snape agreed, and for one moment something almost like pity flickered in his eyes. "For you, Potter, it's just beginning."

CRACK.

They vanished, leaving Harry alone with his rage and the taste of ashes.

"HARRY!"

Sirius materialized from the darkness at full sprint, Moody's wooden leg hammering behind. Aurors spread across the grounds like hunting hounds.

Harry collapsed into his godfather's arms.

"I couldn't stop them." The words came between sobs. "Dumbledore... he's..."

Moody's eye whirled. "What happened to Albus?"

"He's dead. Snape killed him…"

Moody swore. Others froze in disbelief.

Before Harry could explain more, a new commotion drew their attention—shouts and gasps from the courtyard.

A crowd had formed at the base of the Astronomy Tower. Students in nightclothes. Professors with pale faces. All staring at something on the ground.

"Move!" Moody barked, wooden leg clacking against stone. "Auror business!"

The crowd parted like a curtain.

Albus Dumbledore lay broken on the grass. Those famous half-moon spectacles sat crooked on his nose, one lens spider-webbed with cracks. Blue eyes that had twinkled with secret knowledge now stared blindly at stars he'd once taught students to read.

"No." McGonagall's whisper broke like glass. Her hand pressed to her mouth couldn't hold back the sob. "Not Albus. Not like this."

Hagrid's moan could have come from a wounded dragon. Flitwick had gone white as fresh parchment. Even Moody's scarred face showed cracks where grief leaked through.

But Sirius barely registered their pain. His mind raced through implications and connections, seeing the chess match's final move.

The old manipulator's final manipulation. His last great magic trick.

Dumbledore had orchestrated his own death with the same precision he'd manipulated Harry's life and his. Every piece positioned, every reaction calculated.

The plan—brilliant, terrible, necessary—had succeeded.

But now the Leader of the Light lay dead while the Dark Lord lived. The war's balance had shifted catastrophically.

And tomorrow, the wizarding world would wake to find its greatest protector gone.