Oliver Logan Manannán of Postbridge Manner never considered himself to be normal, he, as did many others, believed he was quite extraordinary. He took immense pride in his remarkable career, and now retired, he was judged by many, to be one of the most successful and famed Aurors to ever have enlisted in the service. In fact, he was regarded by many witches and wizards of the age, to be the most gifted and notable wizard to have left the profession with a pulse or with all their limbs intact. Oliver was an audacious wizard who enjoyed taking risks, often electing to take the dangerous and more unpredictable course, over the safer, less thrilling one. It was a trait he had long possessed, a part of him since his school days. In truth, it was the very characteristic that got him expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at the start of his second year.
Oliver was now a young man, just turned twenty-eight; and the memory of his expulsion from Hogwarts had long since faded. That episode in his life had been completely eclipsed by nine years of an intrepid Auror career, one filled with almost unfathomable and hair-raising experiences. He was six foot one, with dark blond hair and deep brown eyes. He was built like a Beater, although he never really played Quidditch; he much preferred to be a spectator of games, as opposed to an actual player.
Having nearly everything he desired in his life, Oliver was the honoured owner of Postbridge Manner, a small holding of six acres with a modest but spacious cottage at the centre. The land was situated on the outer edge of Dartmoor, in Devon. It was a mixture of open fields and compact woodlands; perfect for a young wizard to conceal himself from the muggle world. It was home to just him and his three beagles, Galahad, Gawain and Gaheris.
Although Oliver was more than content with his current lot, there was a truth he concealed. One that was once just hidden from his mother, but now vehemently obscured from the world. For the wizarding community was currently in a most perilous place; so easily could times change for the worst. For what was once finally deemed acceptable, could, in a short period of time, become prohibited, criminal even.
It was not long after his twelfth birthday that things in the world appeared to change dramatically and quickly. For his childhood before then, was completely overshadowed by the ominous threat of the Dark Lord. Until that birthday, he had only ever known of the magical world being gripped by fear. Even as a small child he was profoundly aware of the dangers that Voldemort's movement posed. He was also very conscious that after that fateful night, when the Dark Lord attempted to murder, the now world-famous Harry Potter, that things greatly improved; the wizarding world changed for the better.
When Oliver set out on the clear blue-sky Monday morning, he did not know that an unexpected visitor would soon arrive. Walking through the woodland on his typical early sunrise stroll, with his canine knight's close by, his mind raced with the stories of what he had been told by his former colleagues at the Ministry of Magic. Thoughts of ending his private endeavours and returning to the Auror service, at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, plagued his thoughts and his dreams. A profound sense of duty permeated his consciousness, he could not eliminate the desire to return; although he had, to date, made no official efforts to reenlist.
Oliver continued with his dog walk, trying to clear his mind of those troubling thoughts. Wrapped up in his green Barbour jacket, which he wore, rain or shine, he whistled away, calming his mind. It approached just before eight, when Oliver flicked his right hand as a reddish-white wand fell into his grip. With a long swipe of his arm, he sent three large branches that rested on the ground hurtling through the air. All three hounds darted off to give chase.
'Little cavaliers,' he chortled to himself, as he concealed his wand into his jacket's sleeve just before he quickened his pace in their direction.
It was on a small steep verge where the woodland ended and an open flat field began, that he first sensed something unusual. Moments later, he saw the open air on the horizon distort. Squinting, Oliver focussed on the twisted sky, he intuitively knew what it meant. In his view he could see all three of his beagles returning, racing towards him, it was then a sense of urgency fell upon him. His wand quickly returned to his right hand, falling again from underneath his sleeve. He slashed the air in the direction of his dogs, which gave out a bright white flash, they all instantly froze on the spot. It was milliseconds after that that a loud thundering crack rang out. It was so deafening that it would have been heard miles away. His right leg jerked slightly, although uncontrollable, for Oliver it was expected; it was a sign of his heightened state. The involuntary shudder in his lower right limb, was a by-product of the only injury he had ever suffered whilst working as an Auror.
The space directly behind him now warped, someone was apparating there, he could feel it! It terrified him, which was very unusual, as he was an extremely stoic and case-hardened man. The fear stemmed from his belief that there were only two people alive that could breach the protective shield around his home: one of them, being the Dark Lord himself.
The dread quickly turned to relief and astonishment. As Oliver turned, his gaze now fell upon the only other individual who was capable off such powerful magic. 'Professor.'
The famous Hogwarts Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore stood tall and imposing, dressed in a long purple cloak, his long grey beard shimmered in the sunlight.
'Mr Manannán.' His blue eyes looked down through his half-moon spectacles, fixed on Oliver's wand.
'Apologies, sir. I mean no disrespect.' Said Oliver, as he once again concealed his wand.
'None taken. In fact, it is I who should apologise, for my unannounced and uninvited visit. I hope you don't think of me too rude.'
'Not too... rude Sir. You've been harsh and direct with me in the past. Which could be described as being more rude!' Joked Oliver.
Dumbledore smirked; it was slightly refreshing to be spoken to in such a way. A way that was not filled with blind reverence or admiration, but in a more mortal way, from one person to another.
'I have, haven't I, but for that I do not apologise. As I have always said, the greatest lessons are rarely taught in the classroom.'
Oliver smiled back; he knew the old wizard was right. He did not feel any bitterness or malice towards his former headmaster, not even for being the very person who had expelled him. At the time, when he left Hogwarts, the young Manannán was full of rage. However, he now knew well that he would not have become the man he was today, without that most important life lesson.
'I would not ask you too either. It was the inevitable outcome. I knew the risks at the time. I was far too overconfident and reckless with my magic back then.'
'Very wise Young Manannán. Now, you're most likely wondering why I have come here this morning.' Said Dumbledore, as he peered over Oliver's Shoulder. 'And please release them. They'll get crooked necks if they're stilled for much longer.'
Oliver turned and released his spell, mobilising his dogs as they instantly continued their race back towards him, each with branches in their mouths.
'I must confess that getting past your shield, was particularly bothersome. The only one to require more endeavour to contravene is the one around Hogwarts. I commend you on your casting.' Said Dumbledore, as he readjusted his cloak as though the complex apparition had ruffled his clothes.
The old Professor signalled with a subtle expression and an angle of his body, that the two men should continue their conversation shrouded by the woodland. Oliver instantly picked up on the old wizard's body language, and the two made their way in amongst the trees. The three dogs entered closely behind dropping their drool covered logs at their human companion's feet.
'I think we need to ensure less distractions whilst we talk.' Uttered Dumbledore, as he took out his wand and effortlessly cast a spell upon the branches, which sprung into life. Lifting into the air, they jerked as they floated. The three dogs glared at the enchanted sticks; Galahad barked inquisitively. The branches then flew off in the direction of the open field, all three dogs gave chase. 'That shall keep them busy.'
'Maybe Gawain and Gaheris, but Galahad often surprises.' Said Oliver.
'You seem to have a lovely home here. Not missing the Auror life are you?' Asked Dumbledore, as he smiled looking at the dogs.
'Not really. Don't get me wrong. An Auror is not just a career it's a way of being. I just enjoy the freedom now, picking the jobs I want. Deciding for myself what cases to undertake. I've thought of going back, ever since...' Oliver paused.
'Since his return?'
'Sort of. Over the last year it's been on my mind. More so since I heard about the events in the Ministry.'
'It must be clear to you then, why I have come?' Asked Dumbledore.
'Well, it's expected. I've been waiting a while for either someone to attempt to recruit me or to at least make an attempt on my life. I'm surprised that it's yourself who came to me first.' Said Oliver, he was truly surprised that the great Albus Dumbledore would take the time to come to see him.
'Death Eaters haven't come calling, yet? That does surprise me.'
'No. Which I find insulting. I thought I would've been at least on some list to be taken out. But not even a whisper of a threat. I guess my efforts back when I first joined the Department, and started hunting down Death Eaters that got away, has seemingly gone unnoticed.' Replied Oliver, sounding genuinely disappointed he was not a target.
'Possibly. I think it's more likely that as you're no longer in the Ministry, you're for now, less of a threat or more probable, you're less valuable as an asset to their cause; for the moment.' Said Dumbledore, before perching on a waist high tree stump. 'If they did come calling however, to seek your support, how would they find you?'
Oliver grinned at the magnificent wizard, he knew that the question was academic, Dumbledore surely knew where his true allegiances would lie. He wouldn't be there if he didn't. However, Oliver knew, he needed to confirm it with words.
'I'm aware it's well known that my methods can be unconventional, that I'm not one for the rules or authority. Also, my noble blood and the fact, that although my mother was not a Death Eater, she was however old, cantankerous, and publicly shared outdated views. Therefore, someone might think, I harboured similar beliefs.'
'And you do not?'
'No. Not at all Professor. You see, I loved someone who is not of noble blood, whose parents are not wizards. I don't let that fact be well known, but it's true. I held a love that the Dark Lord would seek to prohibit and destroy. Which is one of many reasons why I'd never support the return to the old ways.' Replied Oliver, his eyes showed a deeper emotion beyond his words.
'Would you actively oppose it though?'
'Ha.' Oliver paused, he knew that Dumbledore was not contesting his honour or his bravery with the question, but it cut him like he had. 'Of course I would. If only it was just my life I risked. But the choice is not that simple. It's not cowardice to say that that scares me.'
'No. In fact it's the opposite. It takes courage to understand and confront the fears we keep within. However, it probably goes without me saying. You know you don't have that choice to make. Unfortunately, Voldemort has made it for you.'
Oliver knew that Dumbledore was right. If he did not take a stand and oppose the tyranny, he would lose the very thing he feared he would, if he did take a stand. The only difference being, if he took up the fight, he could possibly make a difference, and potentially, save the thing he held most dear.
'You've come to recruit me for your Order?' Asked Oliver.
'The Order of the Phoenix would be honoured if you would join. However, I was thinking that you could help me directly, in other ways. You see, things are potentially a lot darker than most are aware of.'
'Really. That can't be true. I heard of an increase in arrests of late. And if it's true what I heard about what occurred in the Ministry, between yourself and He Who... Then we will succeed in the end.'
'Interesting. What did you hear?' Asked Dumbledore, genuinely fascinated.
'Well, just about the arrests and that you duelled with the Dark Lord. I heard that he attempted every spell and charm he could muster, and you, well, you countered everything. Effortlessly I hear. As though he was merely an annoyance, rather than an equal.'
'Ha-ha,' Dumbledore roared. 'The reports on the events paint me too kindly. The duel was not as one sided as you have heard. I promise you. The Dark Lord cast spells so mysterious and deathly, some that I had not come across before, and struggled to dispel or defend against. Also, I believe that he has developed a way to combine Fiendfyre with an evener darker form of magic.'
'Really?' Said Oliver, his thoughts quickly focussed on how that could be achieved.
'He is an extremely gifted, powerful wizard, who has spent years researching the darkest magic's, in the most perverse places in the world. He is the most dangerous wizard... I have ever faced.'
Oliver watched as Dumbledore spoke, every word was conveyed in a way that indicated that a memory was alive in the old wizard's mind.
'So, scaring me to sign up is your plan?' Chortled Oliver.
'At times like these, the truth is often the scariest thing to speak. However, it is the right thing to speak.' Dumbledore rose from his perch. 'I need you to understand one more truth. This might make little sense now, but I promise in time, you will soon comprehend fully. You see, the Dark Lord will be made mortal again, and when that happens, he will need to be bested. There are only a handful of wizards alive, who have both the gift and the skill to have a chance at defeating him.'
'Shacklebolt? Moody?' Asked Oliver. He had worked under Shacklebolt as an Auror and whilst in his Auror training, was taught by Alastor Moody. Oliver didn't know what Dumbledore meant by being made mortal again, he assumed it was an allegory for being beatable.
'They are both powerful wizards. But I am not sure they have what is needed.' Dumbledore paused. 'You, however, might.'
'Me?' Responded Oliver, flabbergasted.
'Not many twelve-year-old wizards get expelled for sneaking off into the forbidden forest to practice illegal spells. And even fewer of them manage to complete an education abroad and eventually become an Auror.' After talking Dumbledore stood silently for a moment, his facial expression changed, showing a hint of respect, 'You remind me greatly of a wizard I once knew.'
'I'm not sure what to say. Thank you, I guess.'
'No need. Just come to Hogwarts tonight. There is something I need you present for. I wish to share something with you. And I'd also like you to meet the other wizard who I feel could face the Dark Lord, when the time is right.'
It was at that moment that Oliver's eyes fell upon the Professors right hand. It was withered, blackened and it appeared contaminated somehow. Oliver quickly diverted his gaze, but Dumbledore noticed the young wizard's recognition.
'Are you in?'
'Yes. I'll be there tonight.' Replied Oliver, genuinely and confidently.
*
Oliver's day raced by, unlike the Auror's who was stationed at the main gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Auror had been standing on the spot like a statue for hours, his eyes unblinkingly scanned the darkness for any hint of a threat. He had been there, almost on the exact point, since two o'clock that day. Seven long hours later, he yearned for his duty to be over. As tired and as heavy as his legs felt, he stayed sharp. He did not flinch at all when Oliver apparated in the distance, he merely raised his wand, 'Who goes there?'
Mr Mannanán slowly walked towards his ex-colleague, Oliver had recognised him almost immediately, however, it was clear to him that it was not reciprocated.
'Stanley, it's me Oliver.'
'Tori?' The Auror shouted. A nickname that Oliver had not been called for years. Straining his eyes to make Oliver out, the Auror continued. 'Ah, it is you. Long time. I was told to expect someone tonight, but they didn't tell me it was going to be you.'
Stanley had been stationed at Hogwarts for just shy of three weeks. He was one of many Aurors posted there since the start of the summer break. He was there to support the school with its security measures. Students had yet to return, and most of the teachers were tasked with duties inside the castle. Stanley rarely saw anyone else whilst at the gates, other than his shift relief, he would occasionally see the odd teacher. The Professor that came earlier that day to inform him that a visitor would arrive that night, was pale skinned, greasy haired with a strikingly hooked nose.
'Where have you been?' The Auror bellowed as Oliver came to stop just in front of him.
'You know, helping the ordinary wizard, the occasional muggle. Being an Auror for hire, so to speak.' Replied Oliver.
'Are you being hired to lend a hand to the cause then?' Chortled Stanley.
'Something like that. I've been convinced that my time might be better spent hunting Death Eaters again. As opposed to enforcing warrants, looking for missing magical beasts, or settling family disputes.'
'Good. We could do with you around. I've never seen anyone take down a giant as quick as you.' Replied Stanley. He kept his wand pointed throughout the exchange. He was confident it was his ex-colleague, but Auror training always left the witch or wizard slightly apprehensive.
'That was a mental stake out. I'm glad it all worked out in the end. Times have certainly changed.' Said Oliver, not at all offended by the wand pointed at him.
'That they have.' Stanley replied. 'Just need to do the check before opening the threshold.'
Oliver stood straight; he knew what was coming. It was uncomfortable for anyone Witch or Wizard to willingly allow another to use a wand upon them and to cast a spell.
'Revelio.' Said Stanley.
A sensation rushed through Oliver's body; it made his entire being tingle. The feeling soon disappeared, and to no one's surprise, nothing changed. The Revelio Charm established that there was no magic disguise or concealment in place; Oliver was, who he appeared and presented to be.
'I'll let you in. Then I'll let them know you hear.' The Auror turned, whispered a spell, and an opening appeared within the shield. He then lifted his wand and aimed it into the air.
'Lower your wand. I don't require summoning like some house elf.' The cold gloomy voice came from the darkness. As Professor Snape stepped forward, he was illuminated by the floating lanterns. His deep dark eyes glistened.
'Professor.' Said Stanley.
Severus Snape ignored the Auror and moved directly towards Oliver. His eyes examined Dumbledore's mysterious guest. He was eager to know why this young man had been invited tonight, what other mysterious plan, did Albus have in mind? He wondered.
'So, you are Mr Mannanán, the infamous ex-Auror?'
'Well, I wouldn't say infamous. But the rest is correct.' Replied Oliver, clearly taken aback.
Snape's lip curled displaying his disapproval.
'Fascinating.' Snape turned back towards the castle. 'We need to move. The hour is late and headmaster doesn't want anyone else seeing you on school grounds.'
Oliver turned to smile at Stanley, who looked rather bemused by the Professors egotism. Snape deliberately ignored the unspoken conversation, he could feel the silent exchange; it was something many people participated in, within in his presence. He cared little for the judgment of others. Snape paced quickly back through the entrance in the shield, Oliver followed not too far behind. The visitor took a quick glance back to see the field edges stretch inward as Stanley closed the shield behind them.
'Security is totally maxed out here then?' Said Oliver, a statement more than a question.
'Obviously.' Sneered Snape.
'Understandable, I guess. Every Death Eater in the country, with a desire to stand out and impress you Know Who, will try and kill Harry Potter. He's got to be their target number one.' Said Oliver as he quickened his pace to keep up. 'Well, I guess you'd know. You were one once.'
Snape jerked his head back at the ex-Auror, 'Was I?' Not waiting for a reply, he faced away and carried on.
'Well, it's what I heard. I guess we all make mistakes in our lives.'
'That we do.' Snape whispered irritably. He threw another sharp backwards glance at Oliver, as though he was about to divulge more, but he didn't.
'Sorry to Pry. I can't help it. Part of the training, make every contact count. You probably don't remember, but you were my potions teacher in my first year. Before I got kicked out.' Oliver spoke at the Professor who did not turn. It was hard for him to gauge his current companion; he was struggling to work him out.
'I don't.' Said Snape, coldly.
'I would be surprised if you did. You know, I hear the schools looking for a new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher this year. Do you think that's what Dumbledore wants to speak to me about?'
'Please. You talk too much and talk too loudly. He wants as few people as possible, knowing you are here. So how about silence as we head towards his office.' Said Snape, sounding even more irritable.
'Sorry, I'll turn the volume down a notch.' Whispered Oliver.
Snape sniffed angrily.
'Maybe it's not that. Maybe it's something else. Like his hand! You would've noticed that surely. If you've been in his presence.'
The two men had just reached a side door to a part of the castle, one that led towards the Kitchens. It was a concealed entrance, and before Snape could lift the charm, he abruptly stopped on the spot and turned to face Oliver. He threw a menacing and immensely piercing gaze towards the headmaster's guest.
'What do you know of such things?' Asked Snape.
Oliver instantly sensed his statement was pertinent, it revealed much more about Snape, more than he had ever conveyed to anyone else in his life - apart from Dumbledore.
'Well, I only saw it the once. But to me it looked like the presentation of a curse. A powerful and potentially deadly one. Without examining it magically, I cannot comment further, although it appeared to me mostly contained. Maybe it was the Gravraxx.'
Both men stood staring at one another, each intensely assessing the other. Oliver waited for Snape to respond to his appraisal, but his face remained indifferent, it revealed nothing. It did not answer the concealed question within Oliver's words.
Without speaking another word, Snape turned on his heels faced the wall, took out his wand and sent blue sparks at it. The door opened with a loud grinding noise, like it had not been opened for some time.
Snape led the way and Oliver followed. The two wizards walked through many back passages in the castle before finally reaching the stairway to the Headmasters Office. Whilst walking through the school castle itself, the two did not speak. Oliver was trying to work out how accurate his evaluation of Dumbledore's injured hand was, from Snape's none offered response. Snape's thoughts dwelled on the character of this inquisitive stranger.
'Gentleman, come in.' Said Dumbledore, as he opened his office door.
The two entered without hesitation. 'Would either of you care for a sherbet lemon?'
'I would.' Said Oliver, with a hint of surprise. 'I do enjoy the odd muggle treat from time to time.
'No, thank you headmaster.' Replied Snape, with a hint of annoyance at Oliver's eagerness.
'Help yourself Mr Manannán, they're on my desk. And please take the seat.' Dumbledore gestured towards his desk, where two seats had been placed in front of it.
Snape and Oliver walked over and sat down on the chairs, Oliver grabbed a sherbet lemon before he perched.
Dumbledore moved to take up his seat, as he did, he placed his wand on the desk with his right hand – the awful condition of which was clear to see to his two guests. Snape glanced over and clocked Oliver assessing the malady again.
'Thank you for coming tonight.' Said Dumbledore, directed at his guest. 'You must be wondering exactly why I have asked you to come here?'
'Well, my first thought might be to offer me the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Although Snape put that one to bed.' Replied Oliver, smiling wide.
'Oh, he told you I have offered it to him, did he?' Enquired Dumbledore.
Oliver's face grinned wider. 'Not directly.' He turned to face the extremely unimpressed teacher, 'congratulations.'
'Thank you.' Replied Snape, sounding frostier than ever.
'No. I require your talents to be directed elsewhere. Not academic. Something more suited to your particular set of skills.' Said Dumbledore, as he opened his draw. 'Can I ask you something Mr Manannán? I believe you to be a decent man. A man of honour. There are things I am willing to share with you tonight. Things that would frighten many wizards and corrupt many others. However, I sense you have the particular disposition to take this dark knowledge, to a place of good. That being said, I would like your word, that whatever is discussed here tonight, stays between the three of us. No one outside of this room, should know.' Both Dumbledore and Snape gazed at the ex-Auror, waiting to study every detail of his response.
'That's very kind of you to say. I've always treated my word and my honour with the highest regard. I understand what you're asking of me. If it helps bring an end to the Dark Lord, then yes, you have my word.'
'Thank you.' Said Dumbledore, as his hand reached down into his desk before continuing, bluntly. 'Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?'
'A Horcrux. I've heard the term. It's an ancient and dark magic. Something around anchoring oneself to life. Though, it's not possible. It's never been achieved. Not that I know of anyway.'
'Oh, but unfortunately, it has.' Said Dumbledore resolutely. 'Voldemort has attained such dark magic. It is fundamental to his malevolence.'
'That's not possible, surely. Are you certain?'
'I am indeed.' As Professor Dumbledore spoke, he took out a worn and heavily damaged book and a ring, from his desk draw. 'These were once Horcruxes of his. Now destroyed. I feel he may have enchanted more, and I am taking the necessary steps to confirm this. The fact that there might be more, is why I need your help.'
'My help?' Exclaimed Oliver.
Snape remained silent throughout the exchange between the two men. Dumbledore had already shared this knowledge to him previously. He was aware that it was going to be discussed tonight, he was there to try to understand if Oliver could be trusted.
'Yes. You see, I have spent most of the past two months hunting down possible objects that Voldemort might have turned into Horcruxes. And there is something that has come to my attention that you have a personal connection to.'
'This is what you meant when you said he would be mortal once more.' Said Oliver, his eyes fixed on the book. 'So, all that flattery was just to make me blush and get me to come here tonight.'
'No. Not just to get you here. I stand by what I said. You are one of only a handful of people that could stand a chance of defeating the Dark Lord, when that becomes an option.' Dumbledore's eyes fell upon his cursed right hand, the sense of his own mortality weighed heavy on his thoughts. 'You see, everything depends on finding the Horcruxes, destroying them all, no matter how many, and whatever they might be.' There was a momentary pause, for the only time in the entire meeting, as Snape's attention was drawn from Oliver towards Dumbledore. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, displayed a brief fleeting expression, one that conveyed resentment.
Dumbledore quickly drew his thoughts back from the macabre events he knew he was setting into motion. 'And there is an object. One that I know the Dark Lord was once extremely interested in. Do you know the name Antonin Dolohov?'
'Of course. He was one of the Death Eaters Moody arrested during the raid of Galwick mansion. I understand he was arrested again during the raid on the Ministry.'
'That's the one. However, unlike popular belief, and what the Ministry would like most to believe. He was not arrested. In fact, he was the only Death Eater to escape that night, who was not aided by Voldemort himself.' Said Dumbledore.
'Really? Why is the department not correcting that?' Asked Oliver.
'Fear.' Added Snape.
'They are not actively denying anything at this time. They are merely not correcting the record.' Said Dumbledore. 'Anyway. Back to my request. You completed your education at Mahoutokoro?'
'I did. Someone expelled me from this place.' Chortled Oliver.
Dumbledore smiled and ignored the jibe. 'And whilst there, did you make acquaintance with the Archduke Finikis of Bergmane?'
'I'm guessing you know I did.' Said Oliver, continuing to smile. 'We bonded over a shared experience. He was kicked out of Durmstrang.'
'I apologise, I don't want to treat you as though you are still a student. But I have heard only rumour. And I often only give small credence to rumour.'
'It's okay. What's this all got to do with me or Finikis?'
'To keep this short. Dolohov in nineteen-eighty was tasked with obtaining something believed to be in the possession of the Archduke's family. The Domantas Bracelet.'
Oliver's smile dropped and a confused expression crossed his face. 'You give credence to that rumour. That Bracelet, the one believed to contain the Tear of Ra, it's legend only. Surely you don't think it actually exits?'
'The Dark Lord believes it exists. He sent Dolohov to acquire it back then.' Interjected Snape.
'Really? Well, just because he believes, doesn't mean it exists.' Replied Oliver, directing his reply towards Snape.
'I think it does exist. You see, Voldemort has a deep interest in important relics. Ones that have profound magical heritage. He desired the Tear of Ra then. And I fear he now covets it again.' Said Dumbledore, his tone sounded slightly concerned.
'What? You think he doesn't have it then? Therefore, it can't be a Horcrux surely?' Replied Oliver.
'I believe he desired it back then, to make it into one. I do feel he was unsuccessful, however. Dolohov was quite talkative during his time in Azkaban. He divulged that he never found it.' Replied Dumbledore.
'If that's true, why are we all talking about it now?' Asked Oliver.
'We have received intelligence that two Death Eaters have been sent to finally retrieve it for the Dark Lord. And it is something we cannot afford to allow to fall into his possession.' Dumbledore removed the book and ring and placed them back into his draw. 'I am sorry to ask this of you. But would you be willing to see your old friend. Ensure that Voldemort is denied this particular treasure. With whatever it takes?'
'Of course.' Oliver paused, contemplating the whole conversation. The request was something he was willing to undertake, despite the great personal risk. 'I think you're right. This does seem to be something particularly suited to my skills. I can leave tonight.'
'No not tonight. Snape and I will visit you tomorrow evening. To swear you in to the Order of the Phoenix. I can't do that now as I have somewhere else to be. I need to escort a student and reacquaint an old colleague. But tomorrow. With your permission, Snape and myself will come to Postbridge Manor? Said Dumbledore, as he rose from his chair.
'Yes. Of course. Tomorrow.'
'Perfect. We will be there for nine.' Dumbledore took out a large empty whisky bottle and placed it in front of him. Oliver glared, bewildered at the peculiarity.
'Portkey Mr Manannán. One that will get you out of Hogwarts tonight. One of my own creations. It's a one-way pass however.'
There was a weird awkwardness in the room as Oliver felt compelled to take the bottle, the penetrating gaze of both professors bore deep.
'Good night then.' Said Oliver, as he stretched out his hand and touched the bottle. He was instantly whisked away with a snap, reappearing just outside the Three Broomsticks, in Hogsmeade.
'Are you sure he can be trusted Headmaster?' Asked Snape, as he watched Dumbledore make his way for the door.
'I'm Confident Severus. However, I am a little more cautious in my advanced years. Tomorrow however, we will both know for sure. One way, or the other. Goodnight, Severus.'