The Mission

The next thing George saw was the inside of the master bedroom. The jarring transition back and forth from reality was beginning to mess with his head. It was hard to tell what was real anymore. Those memories had seemed pretty believable until the end. Now George wasn't sure what to think.

The first thing George checked was his body and was happy to see his insides not on the outside. He had full control and feeling of all his draconic limbs. The only evidence of his dissection was the pink hue of his scales. It was obvious by their transparent and smooth appearance that they were freshly grown. Other than that, he looked at peak physical health.

George's massive body was currently reclined in a chair made out of the same material as the obelisk from earlier. Even though the seat was hard and cold, it was surprisingly comfortable to sit in. The chair was moulded to his spiky spine and it even had a convenient hole for his tail. Opposite him was a pristine floating mirror, which upon seeing his reflection, caused George to jolt back in surprise.

George's scaly head was cracked open like an egg. The skull above his brow was missing, exposing the brain to the open air. Although quite gruesome, there wasn't any bleeding. The reflection of his juicy brain motivated George to touch his head.

"Sease your movements. My work is not finished."

George froze after hearing the ghostly voice. He stared intensely into the mirror as his patron appeared from a clump of fog. Ekrizdis stood behind George and began writing icy runes into the air. The characters floated in the air until Ekrizdis finished writing. Then the runes glowed before converging on Ekrizdis's palm. After the light dimmed, George could see a three-inch long blue needle between his patron's fingers.

"Keep still."

George halted his breathing and slowed his heartbeat as much as possible. Ekrizdis placed the pointy end of the needle against his brain and slowly began to apply pressure. The needle slowly sank into his brain and fireworks went off in George's head. From giddiness that almost had him bursting out in laughter, to sorrow that felt tears running down his face, George went on a rollercoaster of emotions. He barely managed to keep himself together as the needle went deeper.

Just as George was about to burst a blood vessel from pure rage, the overwhelming emotions stopped.

"All done. The effect should be made quite apparent", Ekrizdis said whilst giving the needle one last tap.

George tilted his head and could clearly see the needle fully embedded into his brain. It was as his patron had said, the effect was quite obvious. If George hadn't been paying attention, he would have assumed he'd just consumed the Calming Draught. He felt positively apathetic to everything. Ekrizdis poured a vail of green liquid over George's head which caused his skull and scales to regrow remarkably fast. Then he waved his hand and George's chair morphed into a more upright position.

"The Lobotomy was a success. Consider your emotional outbursts treated", he said while walking around to George's front.

The mirror lost its reflective surface and morphed into a similar but smaller version of George's chair. Ekrizdis sat down opposite George and pulled a pouch out of his robes.

"You've grown significantly since I last saw you. It seems your adolescence has begun. It's as promising as it is problematic. Here, take this"

Ekrizdis threw him a pouch presumably made out of human skin. George recognised it due to its similarities to the bag he'd received from the Broker. He stuck his claw inside and pulled out a sweet which looked slightly different from the ones he was used to. It was twice as large as normal and was covered in far more pulsing veins. In his human form, he might struggle to swallow it.

"Unavoidable I'm afraid, but you'll find its effects will make up for the previous versions' deficiencies."

"Would you like me to try one?", thought George.

"If you could", answered his patron.

George placed the extra veiny sweet into his mouth and swallowed it. As he expected, his body began to shrink but with significantly less discomfort than usual. The compressing sensation he'd become so familiar with had almost completely gone. The only compromise seemed to be the rate at which he changed, taking almost twice as long. But George wasn't complaining. He hadn't experienced a transformation this smooth since he'd lived with the Linwoods many months ago.

New hair sprouted out of George's head and covered his eyes. George brushed it aside but quickly paused once he noticed the colour. He held his hair in surprise, it was brown. Then he looked down at his naked human body and couldn't see any evidence of the bulging black veins. Was he back to normal?

"Your physical ailments have been treated. Consider yourself lucky I had forty litres of Ukrainian Ironbelly blood to replace your contaminated blood supply."

So that was what his patron was doing before. George was given a blood transfusion. Provided all the black blood had left his body, then that would mean the Tentacula venom was gone as well. Wouldn't he be susceptible to his human body growing disproportionate to his dragon form all over again?

"Do pay attention. As I said, my new treatment plan for you will mitigate the physical effects of your spontaneous growth. Your... alternative method is a far cry from an adequate solution. To pollute my life's work with such crude alchemy and venom, it's unacceptable."

George lowered his head, "I'm sorry, father. It was not my intention to destroy the gift you gave me. It was all in the name of..."

"The mission, I know. Do not speak if you have nothing to say", Ekrizdis said bluntly.

George's instinct was to apologise again, but he refrained from opening his mouth.

Ekrizdis leaned back into his chair, "before. You were wondering why I showed you those memories."

George kept looking toward the ground and nodded.

"The answer isn't complicated. I showed you the most important memories you'd lost in the attack."

"The attack? Other than the troll, when was I attacked?", thought George.

"The night before Remus Lupin arrived at the Linwood's house, Dumbledore visited your bedroom. He used Legimacy whilst you slept. That's why I didn't meet you the day after, in case he was watching."

So the moment George walked into the Great Hall, Dumbledore knew he was hiding something. He was right to avoid that man, although, his actions were somewhat futile. This might explain why George felt so uncomfortable in Dumbledore's company.

Ekrizdis shook his head, "that man is quite conniving. He must have realised your mind was safeguarded and exploited the forgetfulness curse to remove specific memories. Memories that would make you less inclined to remain loyal. Judging by the way you reacted to my embrace, I can assume he looked for pleasant memories you held for me."

George was taken aback by the length Dumbledore would go to get information out of him. To deprive someone of all their happy memories and leave them with only recollections of pain and sorrow, it's the sort of ruthlessness he'd only seen from his patron. But, by George's reckoning, it should have been effective. George didn't know his purpose and had only terrible memories of his patron. Why would he not consider changing sides? He could objectively see that his loyalty was more than a little unfounded.

Ekrizdis interrupted George's pondering, "think of this matter no longer, it'll do you no good. Anyway, the point of those memories is to show you what's at stake if your mission was to fail."

George didn't understand. Surely his patron wouldn't trust him with anything too important.

Ekrizdis leaned forward, "within the next twelve months, my life will come to an end. With my passing, all I've done and achieved over the past half a millennia will amount to nothing. That's unless you complete the task I entrusted to you."

"Take this", Ekrizdis tossed a rock into George's lap.

George was so distracted by his patron's sudden declaration that he didn't react to the rock landing between his legs. Ekrizdis was dying. George couldn't imagine it. He believed his patron was the most powerful being that had ever lived. Ekrizdis could do things the likes of Dumbledore and Grindlewald could only dream of. What other than a god made real could create Azkaban, or the Dementors, or George himself?

And this man, after living longer than Gringotts Bank, is going to die in a few months? George didn't believe it. This had to be another test.

Ekrizdis' lip curled ever so slightly, "to live is to die, one does not come without the other. Nothing is immortal, George. I can assure you of that. And anyone who wishes to chase that dream is either a desperate fool or an arrogant idiot."

But what about Voldem...

"Riddle is not an exception", Ekrizdis blurted out, "he died the day he violated his soul. The one who goes by Voldemort is just a husk, nothing more. I will not resort to such blasphemy."

The room got abruptly colder and George cowered back into his chair. He'd never seen his patron get angry before.

"Death will take me eventually and I don't wish to prevent it. I just want to ensure my legacy is complete before my passing", Ekrizdis said while gesturing toward George's lap.

George finally looked down and was surprised yet again. It was a ruby-red stone not much larger than George's palm. It was dull, partially transparent, and had a faint white glow. George had seen this rock in his memories before. It was the Philosopher's stone.

"Correct. It is a Philosopher's stone, but not the one you're thinking of. That is a copy made by my former staff at the Department of Mysteries."

After picking the rock up, George had a closer look and couldn't find any inconsistencies in his recollection of the Philosopher's stone. It looked completely identical. Wait... If this was a copy, then wouldn't it have the same properties? It could be used to create the Elixir of Life.

"Not exactly. The Philosopher's stone can only produce the Elixir of life if it is filled with the souls of the prematurely deceased. It stores the stolen time of the victims and converts it into a drinkable liquid. That stone barely has enough charge to give me an extra month."

Okay... the alchemy books didn't include that tidbit of information. So the rock George was holding had human souls inside, neat. If charging the rock was as simple as killing a few people, then why hadn't his patron already done that?

"The process is extremely inefficient. To live an extra month, one must take at least a millennium."

Provided George was understanding this correctly, Nicolas Flamel must have been a cold-blooded killer. Flamel and his wife had lived for over one thousand two hundred years combined. With some simple maths, that meant they had stolen nearly fifteen million years. Assuming the average person in the fourteenth century lived for fifty years, that would be around three hundred thousand lives. How could one wizard get away with so much murder?

"It's no coincidence the original stone was created at the same time the Black Death consumed most of Europe. Tens of millions were dying each year. No one would be suspicious if a few hundred thousand muggles died of mysterious circumstances", Ekrizdis explained.

Well, Flamel had done a good job of hiding his dark past under the rug. No wonder he wasn't willing to disclose how the Philosopher's stone was made. The announcement would be met with him immediately being arrested for committing genocide. So... if it worked for Flamel, then why hadn't his patron...

"I am not a monster, George. You wouldn't suggest such a repulsive idea if your memories of me were intact. I do not take lives merely out of convenience when there is a better alternative. That's why I had you steal Flamel's stone instead."

"I'm stealing what?!", thought George.

Ekrizdis tilted his head, "curious. That's exactly how you reacted the first time I told you."

George's mission was to steal the Philosopher's stone? The same one Tom and Quirrel were after? Actually... that would make a lot of sense. There probably wasn't a better time to steal the stone since a bunch of kids could bypass the school's security. Ohhh... it was all beginning to dawn on George. So that's why he felt compelled to befriend the trio. To get access to the mirror at the end of the school year.

Ekrizdis stood up, "quite right, although, your mission may need some adjustments. We'll discuss the amendments after your last treatment."

With a gentle wave of Ekrizdis' hand, George's chair grew straps that wrapped around his arms and legs. Another two black bands moulded around his neck and forehead, completely immobilising him. Ekrizdis walked forward and placed one hand on George's head. The cold from his palm permeated George's skin and numbed his brain.

"Since Dumbledore only removed your good memories of me, I can assume you still recall this treatment."

Indeed George did and that's why he couldn't help but shiver in response. Before the Linwoods, George had received this treatment every six months. However, the reason was illuding him.

"Yet another gap in your memory, understandable. The treatment is to regulate the vestigial soul bound to yours. The past thirteen months have allowed it to fatten unimpeded. Extreme emotions and growth are the symptoms of its development. If left unchecked, you may lose all sense of self. To combat this, your treatment will have to be more intense. Three doses should do."

Another soul... was inside him. George wanted more, but the serious expression on his patron's face implied it would have to wait. He knew what was coming, and he couldn't afford to have his mind elsewhere. George had little doubt this will push him right to the edge. A triple dose was more than he'd ever received before.

Ekrizdis clenched his fingers around George's skull, "prepare yourself."

George cleared his mind, clenched his fists, and closed his eyes.

"Crucio!"

How could one describe the worst pain in the world? Such intense discomfort and excruciating agony that there aren't words in the English dictionary to summarise it. The pain is transcendent of all previous suffering. No prior training could prepare the victim, the first time is just as bad as the one-thousandth. George lost his ability to think or experience anything that wasn't torture. He could be silently enduring or screaming at the top of his lungs, he had no idea. Time and space lost all meaning.

A creature once a fairy, now a monster, lifted her weary head after hearing an ear-piercing noise. She turned over to face the disturbance to see a horrifying sight. A ghosty figure was grasping onto the head of the young naked boy she'd been captured by.

"Please... no more. I can't... I can't take..."

"You are still coherent? Very well, I'll increase the intensity."

"But I... I can't... Ahhhhh!"

The boy desperately struggled in his restraints as the scary man pressed his fingers into the boy's head. The screaming continued at an even louder volume. She had to cover her little ears it was so loud. Tears poured out of the boy's red eyes as he whipped his head back and forth. Blood dripped from his mouth as his tongue was presumably bitten through.

The boy must have been in unimaginable pain. She'd wished to see him suffer as she'd done, but this wasn't right. The boy looked like he was losing his sanity as blood and saliva were flicked through the air. She couldn't bare watching the boy struggle any longer, it was making her feel sick. The little demon ended up curling her wings over her head and trying to hum a song to distract her from the noise.

For what felt like an eternity, the boy kept screaming. The once fairy had been reduced to digging her fingers in her ears while hitting her head against the glass jar. She couldn't take it any longer, hadn't the boy had enough? She didn't dare turn around to see. Judging by the gargling sound and the droplets of blood dripping down her jar, it had to be a nightmarish sight. But then, the screaming stopped.

She turned around instinctively and immediately regretted it. The boy was covered from head to foot in blood. The tips of his fingers had been worn down to the bone from scratching his chair, and the restraints had cut deep lacerations into his limbs and torso. His eyes were puffy and out of focus, and his nose was dripping with mucus. From the rancid odour, she could assume the boy had wet and soiled himself.

The scary man pulled out a vial and poured it down the boy's open mouth. The boy's many injuries began to vanish one by one. Then the man took a few steps backwards and waved his hand. The restraints vanished, but the boy did not move. He just lay limply while staring out into nothingness.

"Your treatment is done. I'll give you some time to recover, and then we'll continue to discuss your mission."

"I can't... I... I can't... I... can't... I... I can't... I... can't... I... I can't..."

The haunting sound of the boy repeating himself caused goosebumps to form on the fairy's skin. It was like the boy's soul had been stripped from his body. She quickly turned back around, plugged her ears, and hummed a happy song. She didn't care about the boy or her revenge anymore. She just wanted to wake up from this bad dream.