Chapter 4: The Resolve of the Son.

Lying in a hospital bed, after having his injuries treated, Alistair was placed under a sleep spell so that he could rest. Both Alistair and his mother's injuries were severe enough that Madam Pomfrey had them admitted to "St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries".

As one of England's best wizarding hospitals, it treated all manner of injuries both magical and mundane. Here, Alistair and his mother would receive the best care possible. Here, they could recover in peace. And that was something they both desperately needed… peace, that is.

Not far from Alistair's bed, four people were currently conversing in hushed voices. One was Dumbledore, who could be recognized by his long, sagely beard. Another was wearing a long trench coat and spoke in low growling voice. While the last two were a man in a white robe and a woman wearing a very professional looking women's dress suit, complete with a dress skirt.

"Mister Dwight, are you certain?"

Dumbledore was the one to speak, he directed his question towards the man in the white robe. Dorian Dwight, a healer at St Mungo's.

"Yes, although Lady Avery's injuries are quite severe, she will recover."

"Her fortitude is nothing short of remarkable."

Pausing he continued in an apprehensive tone.

"Young Alistair however…"

"I am certain that he was under the influence of the Imperius Curse."

"The signs are all there."

Old injuries he couldn't explain, as well as partial memory loss, small things, such as details about our world that most children learn early on. Magical creatures and such. And when questioned, Alistair stated quite clearly that he had no memories before the age of four.

Of course, the healer had no way of knowing that two of these facts were due to the melding of Alistair's memories by the "Red-Eyed Being". The melding of memories wasn't instantaneous, it would take years for his two sets of memories to merge completely. And it was because Alistair himself hadn't realized this, that the information he gave was incomplete.

The "old injuries" were something Alistair had no recollection of. They were from before he was four years old, he had no way of knowing that his mother had started taking his place as the object of his father's torment. Sebastian had even taken her wand away, so that she couldn't defend herself. Sighing to himself, Dwight continued.

"The fact that his mind isn't addled beyond what it is…"

"Well… frankly, it's a miracle the child is still sane."

"As his brain is still in its early development, the curses aftereffects could have been quite severe."

The others were silent for a while after the healer's revelation, but after a time, Eugenia Jenkins, the current "Minister of Magic" spoke up.

"To do such a thing… to a child no less… I… I can scarcely comprehend such a monstrous act."

A grunt sounded out from beside her, as the man in the trench coat, Auror, Alastor Moody spoke.

"Hah!"

"I would say that not understanding is a good thing, Minister."

Shaking his head, he continued.

"Dwight's is correct though, the boy got lucky."

"The Imperius Curse can go all kinds of wrong, even make a man daft in the head or outright crazy."

"It's why a wizard should maintain constant vigilance, at all times."

Dumbledore stroked his beard, as he pondered what they were all just told. After a few moments, he spoke.

"Will there be any other potential aftereffects?"

Shaking his head, Dwight answered as best he could.

"It too early to say, but his mind seems to be intact."

"And so long as that's the case, then even should his memories never return…"

"He'll be able to live a normal life."

"Besides… given his prior injuries, I doubt they would be worth remembering anyway."

"Now… if that is all, I need to tend to my other patients."

Each of the others bid the healer farewell. Moody also took his leave, though for different reasons.

"I'll go have a look through Avery's house."

"Maybe I can flush out some information about the matter you mentioned, Dumbledore."

Walking away without so much as a goodbye, Moody stormed off. He had never been the politest of men, after all. With Moody gone, only Dumbledore and the Minister remained. Looking at the old Headmaster, the Minister softly spoke.

"You look tired Albus, why don't you go back to Hogwarts and rest."

"You heard Healer Dwight… the boy will be alright."

Shaking his head, Dumbledore replied.

"No."

"He asked me for help Eugenia… I… I should have gone sooner."

"If I had, then this wouldn't have happened."

Smiling gently, the Minister answered in a kind tone.

"You also sent word to the ministry… so, I think it only natural that we carry part of the blame."

"We could ha… no, we should have acted sooner."

With a deep, tired sigh, the Minister continued.

"You have always shouldered more burden than one person should bear, Albus."

"It is a dreadful habit."

Dumbledore could only stroke his beard in response, he knew that she was right. With a self-deprecating smile, he nodded farewell to the Minister, who after speaking, headed off in a hurry. He then turned his attention to the sleeping Alistair, who it turns out… was no longer asleep.

---

Alistair was watching as the Minister departed, he then turned his gaze towards Dumbledore. Wincing, he reached up to feel his jaw, and after confirming that both his broken arm and shattered teeth where fully healed, he slowly sat up. Seeing Dumbledore watching him, Alistair spoke.

"She's not wrong, you know."

Dumbledore responded, wearing a mirthful smile across his thin lips.

"Ha-ha!"

"You have been awake for a while, I see!"

Gently sitting on the edge of Alistair's bed, the old wizard continued in a slightly more somber tone.

"I had feared the worst when I found you, young Avery."

"I… am truly sorry that such a plight fell upon the shoulders of one so young."

"And… that I did not come for you sooner."

Looking deeply into the old wizards' eyes, Alistair responded.

"Headmaster… my mother and I are still alive thanks to you."

"That's all that matters."

Reaching up, Alistair placed his hand over his heart.

"So… at the very least, please know that I will always be grateful for that."

Dumbledore was taken aback by the young boy's sincerity. Unable to respond, he simply patted Alistair on the shoulder. Then turning to leave, he walked away. Watching him go, Alistair couldn't help but think back to what he'd seen in Dumbledore's eyes. That fragile looking old wizard… was perhaps the strongest man he'd ever met.

'What kind of life must he have led to have a will like that?'

Pausing in his thoughts, Alistair asked himself a question.

"Will I ever be that strong?"

Pausing again, Alistair's eyes filled with resolve.

"No, I'll be stronger."