Disclaimer: I do not own the harry potter books; J.K Rowling does. I will not, nor will I ever, try to achieve any monetary gain from this story.
The idea came from came from Kwan Li's fan-fiction, My Name is Harry Potter. I twisted it a little though.
For the Reckoned...
"'One day we will fall, one day man will destroy each other, one day the goddess will cry herself to sleep, and one day you will be enlightened." - Harry Potter; to Albus Dumbledore 11 yrs earlier on this day.
5:48 P.M, November 2008, Alternate.
The iron wheels ran across the rails as the train moved forward. Loud clunks and clangs kept their repetitive movements as they worked to reach a destination. The train itself rocked back and forth as its weight shifted with turns and curves. The air held a dismissal dictation that was agonizingly slow on your senses. It held a multitude of passengers from organisms to inanimate objects. Crates slide across the floors held in place by loose ropes. In these one could assume there were guns, but others would reach as far as to say bodies. Harry Potter sat within one of these compartments leaning against the wall with active ignorance to his surroundings. In this particular c apartment people sat, laid, and crouched in a magnitude of positions; some dead others alive. The compartment stunk with warm urine and melting feces. It was grappled in the sounds of low moans and grunts of pain. Most would die from starvation and join the others in their eternal sleep.
Harry Potter woke from his slumber to this scene; ignorant of it. Searching around he checked his belongings. A ivory satchel remained by his left side; its age was emphasized by the worn tears and stains across its fabric. His shoulders tensed and he became livid with suspicion. Unbuttoning the flap from its body he looked inside to see the butt of a M4 acting stoic against the darkness. Around it were scattered his clothes nearly in the same state as the satchel. Slipping his left hand under his old and regal gray blanket he felt his hand strapped to his right wrist. Looking around he had a adverse privilege to look upon a muggle couple fornicating not 5 feet from his resting spot. The woman wildly threw her head about in orgasmic ecstasy. Harry shuddered before leaning back letting the trains movements lull him and his eyes closed.
It had been years of torture and loss upon the wizardry world. Lord Voldemort had torn across his boundaries and had broken the secrecy laws placed by the ministry. The muggles alike rallied against wizards in fear effectively destroying any sane life. The world itself turned to chaos. Chaos himself rained upon life.
Harry lead a solitary life amongst wizards after leaving in his sixth year. His plans had turned to hunting the horcruxi left by Lord Voldemort around Britain. At first Ron and Hermione, his best friends, had followed him with loyalty, but as time moved on they found themselves becoming weak and aggravated. Their relationship had come between the friendship that they had so lucidly created at Hogwarts. They had turned their back to his quest. They left him alone. Yet, he did not blame them one bit.
After Hermione left him alone he turned to books as a solitude. He hoped that within one of the texts he would find his answer to his quest. The Hocruxi had turned elusive and churned his stomach at the thought of them. The books turned out to have another purpose as the knowledge was captured and he latched weakly onto it. Every word and spell he learned only gave him a silent chance of survival, but with his main quest pushed so far off its seat he had no chance of truly destroying the monstrosity that was Tom Riddle; now known as Lord Voldemort. The rest of his time was spent "training." He worked to become a warrior, a knight, and a monster. He was taught to kill with a assortment of weapons. Magic, he had learned, was not the only method of killing and that was what he was required to do.
The train began to come to a stop its wheels screeched along the rails that held them. There were groans of exhaustion around him as those passengers that still lived began to move. The trains whistle blew alerting anyone in a radius of their arrival. Standing up Harry grabbed his satchel and threw it over his shoulder. He checked his pockets for his wallet finding it and pulling it out. Next he pulled his passport from his right front pocket and got it ready for the checkpoint. He rather not have the treatment of muggle officers; he had enough of that already.
The passengers stepped back to allow him to step off the train first. Some held glares others wore fear across their visage. Muttering a few "Thank you's" along the trek he hoped down from the compartment to land on gravel. The road itself was dirt, along its edges gravel was laid to gain a wider berth. Men patrolled the length with stiff forms and deadly weaponry. A building was set on the other side of the road its wore and beat up walls, rusted stairways, old wooden doors, and a sign with Mess Hall written across it, stood ominously against the black of the sky, stars twinkled with light.
"Passport and ID, lets move it along!" A mans voice broke the silence his mind had created. Stepping towards the officer Harry let his satchel fall to the ground and handed his information to him. "Apart of the Army?" He seemed surprised. "Trained in the U.S at Fort Brecketing. How is the war going on over there?" Harry shrugged his shoulders at the mans question. "Not the talking type it seems." The man handed his information back before nodding his head. "Let him through!"
Replacing his pack he moved forward. His steps took him along the road towards a small building adjacent to the main one. Its walls were mirrored by the Mess halls to exact detail. Reaching the Building he noticed the sign above the door waving in the wind. "Offices" was written across this one.
A blare of the train whistle alerted him to the departing vessel and not long it was gone leaving him starring after its hind. This is when he was allowed a peek at the tents rowed out in the fields. This was here the slaves and homeless would be placed. Turning around he entered the office; the door slamming shut behind him. A woman looked up from behind her desk and smiled. Stepping toward her he smiled a sad smile.
"My names Maria Wilkins, how can I help you?"
"Yes," He began his voice was sore and stunted from lack of using it " I need a Writ of Travel."
"Where you headed?" Was her first question. The words flowed off he lips letting her good-nature d personality out with it. 'Too trusting' was Harry's only thought. 'I could have a gun to her head before she could scream, not that he had planned on it' He chuckled inside, mentally shaking his head. He let a frown leak across his face.
"London," He answered with a smooth tone " I wish to see a few of my family members before this war takes their lives." He let the comment sit and noticed the sad and strangled look that fell across her face.
"I know what you me," She began to write across a sheet of paper as she spoke. " I had a uncle murdered a year ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that, who was it?"
"A wizard, of course, those bastards. Here is your writ." She handed him the said sheet with a venomous look.
Harry sighed with a exhausted stare. "I do not agree, Wizards, like us are only fighting a war that I am sure they themselves wished to never exist, but, again, I am sorry for your losses." He backed up with a nod and reached the door before stopping. Turning his head towards Maria he shrugged his shoulders. "Remember Mrs. Wilkins, they bleed just like us." With Maria's look of bewilderment he stepped out of the office, the door yet again slamming creating a bang in the silent night. Harry began checking the area for witnesses and upon his satisfying himself he let the magic around him squeeze his body tight. Apparition felt like being stuffed through a tube because in reality that was what it is doing. Yet, even most wizards didn't get this. He was gone in a blink of an eye and no one knew.
He found himself in a deserted town. Signs' screeched with the waves of wind that shoved them. Doors were locked or boarded up. The main street had a layer of dirt, the footsteps of many travelers stained its mold. The moon shone a light grimace of light through the hazy clouds. Looking around he noticed a eerie feeling of the atmosphere. With a sign he crouched down and ruffled through his bag. His hand came into contact with the cold bare grip of his M4. Pulling it out dauntingly he resettled his bag on his back and tightened the straps, he placed the weapon in a stand down position with its nozzle pointing towards the ground. He took a look off into the distance and made note of the billowing light that escaped the far off castle's windows. Setting off at a trout he passed house after house.
It went on for some few minutes as he let his mind take in every movement of the wind and sound of nature. A pack off wolves, whether they were 'Were-' or not he did not guess, cried in the distance. He came to the end of town with out tire. Peering into the darkness, of what he once knew as the Forbidden Forest, he felt a shudder run down his spine. He followed the road with unease.
The castle loomed overhead, a spitting image of the dark Victorians. The Double doors were tenths of feet tall. From this distance it looked to be at least six human lengths tall. Its wood was dark and seemed stained with age. 'I wonder if it stunk like age?' Harry considered with humor. Making his way up the winding road to the gates he was met with a barrier. He felt a soft cooing on his flesh as he sensed the bubble like shield. It encased the ten kilometer wide terrace. He smelt the clean odor of the magic used in its creation. The purple color indicated to him it was a alarm ward. What other wards were behind it was a mystery. 'Might as well.' With that Harry touched the sphere. A shimmer, like a ripple of calm water ran through the ward. 'Here they come.'
Now, to any other soul the purple ward was a unforeseeable force, but to Harry it was as real as a piece of paper. Yet, how wizards cast wards without knowing what they looked like was beyond him. 'Stupidity really' was his thoughts on it. Bringing the M4 into the ready position against his shoulder he waited. Harry listened intently, no sound echoed from the fortress. A few minutes passed before he heard the sound of voices. One, a woman, echoed with distress, another whispered of calamity.
"Minerva, a Death-eater wouldn't knock." spoke the man in humor. "Surely you would understand this, now we welcome our visitor with ease. Let the other teachers know I will be in my office." With that their conversation ended. He heard the approach of one set of footsteps. "Show yourself!"
Raising his hands and letting his weapon fall to his waist he stepped forward out of the shadows. "I come in peace." Harry's voice left no anger or malice. "I only wish a place to stay, also for news."
"News of what, may I ask?" The mans voice asked as the sound of the gates opening reached Harry's ears. Stepping from the grounds Albus Dumbledore stood proud, his wand out. His beard fell to his waist in a glowing white animosity. The purple Robes he wore contrasted his white hair that fell to his waist. His blue eyes peered into Harry's depths. Feeling the probe of Legimency Harry threw the man out of his mind with ease.
"Of the war, of course." Harry's tone left no room for explanation.
"I see..." Dumbledore took his time looking Harry over before nodding. A soft twinkle entered his eyes. "Come then, you must be hungry from your travels. The walk from the village must have been long."
"Indeed," Replied Harry, "Your apparition wards took a toll on my body." He spoke as he placed his M4 back into his satchel.
As they started their walk to the castle Dumbledore began to question Harry. "Muggle weapons, might I ask the cause?"
"I find that the best option is the one with the most experience." Harry kept his guard up. " Besides they come in handy when you are up against the same."
"I see and your name?" Dumbledore whisked his robe closer to his body; a cold chill ruffled the trim. They made it to the castle in silence before Harry answered.
"Harry James Potter" 'And there it is' Harry thought as he looked to Dumbledore's face; which was plastered into surprise.
"How?"
The Decision...
?, December 1997, Alternate.
Harry knew what he had to do. It was all he could think about as It plagued his mind. Dumbledore's manipulations, Hermione and Ron's relationship, Ginny's obsession, and all the deaths. It all pointed to this reaction. He couldn't let them down. His plan was simple; run-away. Now in theory he knew it was easy, but in reality he had eyes watching him like a hawk. Yet, he needed to leave. With the prophecy lingering on his shoulders he had to learn somehow and all he got here was misery.
That is why on the this night Harry Potter stuffed his pockets with as little as possible. He didn't want any sort of trace to find him. His first reaction was to book it, but with time that idea was pushed aside; the second was legal. He would be leaving to transfer to another school through Hogwarts. He had sent the letter in earlier that day and had a acceptance from Gringotts not an hour earlier.
Making sure everything was set he excused himself from dinner. Walking the halls he mad his way to the docks from his first year. The closer he got the louder the waves became. 'One would think they would set silencing charms. Not passing a student along the way he entered the cave with the stench of water; well, not really a stench more of a scent.
Stepping into the boat he pushed the vessel into the body of water. Exiting the cave he watched as the castle came into view. Its high towers were enormous against the black sky. Turning around he let the tear slip away.
He didn't like it, but it was for the best. They would all be safe and he would learn what was needed. His plan was to learn to become the best. His first stop became Gringotts to hire a goblin to teach him. And with much effort he accomplished thus. Then it was finding the best teachers in every magical art form. Then as the muggles joined the war in 2000 he also moved to learn their arts of war.
That all ended in 2006 when he became a independent scholar. Searching for the smallest hint of knowledge. He knew at sometime he would need to fight Lord Voldemort in England, but before that he would need to speak with Dumbledore. This was the story he told Dumbledore, nothing more nothing less. Yet, he kept the details to a minimum.
What will come?
8:32 P.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Harry had been escorted by Dumbledore to a bedroom. The contents were luscious but few. A bed claimed the corner. Its queen sized width and height were layered with sheets of white silk; comfortable to the touch. Right as he walked in the hearth met his gaze. Its fiery warmth welcomed him with simple tickles. To the right of the door sat a drawer and wardrobe. Both finished with dark stain and a strong polyurethane. He welcomed the room when compared to the hollowed out caves and stiff beds of village inn's.
There was a knock at the door. His head snapped up with a sudden force. Grabbing his wand from atop the blankets he stepped forward. He opened the door with unwanted aggravation. A woman stood there her bushy brunette hair framed her face. Chocolate colored orbs took him in as the stressed face turned up into a smooth smile. The woman threw herself into him her hands taking him into a hug.
"Can I help you?" He asked with some annoyance. He had not expected Hermione to come see him this late. Tired and hungry were not a good combination. She pulled back away from him.
"Please Harry, don't tell me you forgot about me already? What about Ron, Ginny, Luna?" she asked her face faltering. Harry sighed before shaking his head.
"Of course not." He couldn't help smile as he looked at her face. 'When had she become so beautiful. "You've changed." It was a statement.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked with some disturbance.
"Nothing, Its just your older, and more grown." He couldn't help blushing as his eyes wandered her features. She was what one would call beautiful in the sense of one's self. Her Hour glass figure wasn't sharp, yet it was gentle. The kind of beauty you admire for its existence, not its lust. Her breasts were a average B-cup and were proportional to her five foot, eight inch height. He smiled.
"Really? Still a male it seems." She raised her eyebrow then smiled. It was moments before either spoke. Hermione broke the silence by pushing past him and admiring the room. "Let's talk."
Dread filled Harry's spine.
"About what?" He was hoping nothing.
"You very much know what, just run-away and not say a thing. While I would say that no one expected it, I kind of did." She smirked at the surprised look before her demeanor changed into frustration.
"It was just too much Hermione, with everything and then the prophecy I couldn't handle the pressure. Not like you can, by the way I hear that you have become the transfiguration teacher? I didn't think the school would open again." He moved and sat on the edge of the bed adjusting his T-shirts trim. She came and joined him, stretching out her legs to accommodate all the standing.
"Not many thought so, but it was a safe haven for children and education is education. The ministry moved underground and keep in contact with the wizardry population. I think its somewhat a relaxation for the kids and parents alike." she turned to see his reaction and noticed a analytical gleam in his eye. " What do you plan on doing while your back?"
"Not much," to admit something he hadn't planned this visit and he told her as much. "Protection I suspect. I met with Albus and he has yet to ask me what I planned to do." He looked to the hearth." What I can say is that I think this may be permanent. The whole world is in chaos. America is also looking at a Death-eater infestation."
"Has it really gotten that far?" She asked, she continued upon seeing his blanched face. " We don't get much international news. A few scrapes here and there." Standing up she moved to pace in front of him. "I mean, how could we? What with You-Know-Who straining.."
"Voldemort..." Harry interjected.
"What?" she stared at him in confusion.
"His name is Voldemort, or more precisely its Tom Riddle." He looked away from her before returning his intense gaze to her. "Fear of a name only creates the fear of the object itself. Dumbledore once told me that." Seeing her smile; he shrugged.
"Well, any ways, have you met anyone else?" Hermione smiled knowingly as he shook his head, "Well, Ron has sorta became the Head of security around here. I think the D.A. Had more of a effect on him then we realized."
"Really, huh?" He again for the seventh time shook his head. "Who would thunk?
"Luna Lovegood and Daphne Greengrass have become, well I don't know how to explain it. Daphne teaches Potions and Luna Took over after Professor Trelawney killed herself..."
"Wait What!" Harry exclaimed standing up. He gripped his wand tighter not realizing he had it in his hand the whole time.
"You didn't know..." Hermione fidgeted. "She jumped off of the Astronomy tower after saying she failed you."
"Failed me...?" Harry grimaced. "Wait, Daphne Greengrass is here?"
"Ya, didn't you here me?" She raised her eyebrow in a accusatory manner. "Why?
"I kinda have to marry her." He let it hang as silence ensued. Hermione held her stomach as she laughed.
"Ya okay Harry. Nice try." She smiled before it was wiped off her face by his serious demur. "What?"
"Its a marriage contract, but with Gringotts and the Ministry out of bounds its null for the time being. Should either return to Gringotts they would find the magically bound contracts saying so, but for now they remain in a deserted Gringotts. The Goblins sealed it before hiding." He explained.
"Does she know?" Hermione asked as she took her seat again. Harry Sat back down moments later.
"No. I don't know." He sobered up at this exclamation. " I'm still not looking forward to it, that is if I survive."
"What do you mean, 'If you survive'?"
"Come on Hermione. There is a chance I will die fighting Voldemort. Its not something I forget lightly. I don't plan on telling her or doing anything." He stood and leaned against the landing of the hearth. He turned towards her as she laid her hand on his shoulder.
"Harry, you should tell her, she deserves to know from you, It would be crew to have her learn she had a potential husband, 'If you die'" She had used her fingers to place quotes as she spoke he last phrase. Harry turned his head back to the hearth and sighed. Minutes passed in silence.
"I'm hungry lets get something to eat and then I need to sleep, I have a long day tomorrow!" I tried to brighten up, but knew it didn't reach his eyes. Hermione nodded her head before looping her arm with his and pulling him along with her.
"Well, then there is someone you might wanna meet?" She smiled as he was strung along the halls.
"Who?" Harry inquired with dread leaking into his tone.
"Dobby."
The Encounter...
?:?, 1997, Alternate.
Harry sidled along the wall. Its antique wood was rough under his fingertips. He listened intently for any sound of another person. With no one to watch his flank he would be an easy target. Reaching the corner of the hall her took his time to let his breath out. Leaning out around the edge he was met with a door. The hall turn into a indent. Stepping out he grabbed the knob. Harry placed himself against the door. He heard the faint sound of an open window. Twirling his hand nervously he open the door. 'Creak' was his answer.
After getting the door ajar enough for him to slide through he stepped into a large room. A chair sat in the middle its flowery embroidery a nice compliment to the dark atmosphere. The hearth was out and its burnt would sat cold in its depths. He could smell the recent scent of magic and it stunk of death. Harry held the cough in as he took in the bookcases' along the wall.
"Good Evening Harry," A voice asked from the window. Harry head and wand snapped to its position and a nervous shudder swept up his spine at the sight. Lord Voldemort Stood at the window the drapery encasing him in a blanket.
"V..v..Voldemort.." Harry stuttered along with his spine.
"Harry, that's no way to great me. I am after all the one that is going to end yours life. That is after I kill everyone you love." The smirk on Voldemort's face was slick with venom. Harry moved towards the door, a hand stopped him. He twirled around his fist coming to hit his captor only to be grabbed midair by a silver hand. The pain blinded him as he fingers broke. The cracks echoed around the room. Harry opened his eyes to see a blurry version of Peter Pettigrew. His bald head ringed by a crop of hair. Its was gray with hints of brunette strings. The mans face was scarred and held boils and moles'. His finger nails were long, like a Mouse's claws. He was dirty and smelt like old rags.
"Peter bring him here." Peter tore Harry's wand from his hand and put him n a head lock. Tugging against Peter caused the him to slam his boiled hand into Harry's skull. They reached Voldemort with in seconds.
"Harry Potter" Voldemort ran his hand along Harry's cheek before bring it around to backhand him. Harry went flying to the floor as Peter let him go. Landing face first Harry groaned. "Crucio!" The pain ripped Harry apart. 'I will not scream' was Harry's resolve.
"Fuck you" Harry got out as Voldemort lifted the spell. A chuckle rendered the room comatose.
"Potter you should show some respect. I am after all your master." Voldemort leaned down and whispered into his ear. "I kill them all Harry. Everyone. Of. Them."
Harry lost consciousness to another torture curse.
A New Day
7:00 A.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Harry jerked awake his body encased in a cold sweat. Drawing in a labored breath he was greeted by a warm feeling. Looking around her noted his blanket lay on the stone floor. He brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed them. Cleaning his eyes of waste he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and set his feet against the warm floor. With a sigh he stood up.
It took him a minute to stand and reach his satchel. From it he withdrew some running clothes. The Athletic shirt clung to his skin. His track pants let air encase his legs. Slipping on his socks and shoes he began his stretches. He set himself outside his room door and with a grunt set himself on his run.
7:32 A.M, November 2008, Alternate.
After a little breaking and entering Harry managed to gain access to the Prefects bathroom. The warm water soothed his skin and tamed the burn of a long awaited run. Sighing he stepped out onto the cold stone of the bathroom and dried himself with a wave of his wand. Slipping on a pair of jeans he buckled his belt. His abs tensed with heat. A sigh escaped his lips as he slipped on a light fabric shirt. He set out into the hall. After a bit of remembering he managed to arrive at a pair of double doors. They sat open, enough of a crack to allow a person to slip through.
He was met by a memorizing room. Four tables ran along the large room. Flags hung from the nonexistent and illusion ceiling. One presented a Griffin, standing on its hind legs against a background of red, over the far right table. To the far left a Snake adorn a green field. Adjacent to griffin a Badger adorn a landscape of Gold. Adjacent to the snake a Raven adorned a sea of blue. These represented Griffyndor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw in that order. Between said flags candles were floating in a symmetrical line. They lit the hall with a warmth. To the far end of the hall the Teachers table sat along it. Two doors sat at either corner. It was exactly how he remembered the Great Hall.
Occupants sat at the four tables. A few he guessed were students, early risers. A few adults were littered at the Teachers Podium. One of these adults turned out to be Hermione Granger. She waved him towards her. AS he reached ten feet from her she patted the seat next to her.
"Sit." She commanded with a smile.
"Doesn't it belong to a teacher?" He asked with raised eyebrows.
"Nah doesn't matter." Her smile grew. HE took the seat without anymore words. Filling his plate he took to placing the most healthy of foods to eat. Hermione watched with intrigue. "Sleep well?" Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the obvious mirth. 'Hermione has sure changed' He moved to reply, but Hermione interrupted him. "Daphne!"
Looking up Harry's Breath caught in his throat. Daphne Greengrass moved with a pure-blood grace. Her robes clung to her figure with ease. Her hips held a gentle sway. With small breast she was taller then Hermione. He guessed five feet nine inches. She held a beauty that was sexy and exotic to him. His lips became dry as he remembered where he was. Looking back at his plate he ate ignoring both women.
Teacher This, Teacher That...
10:50 A.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Moving down the hall he searched for the door that, Hermione had so clearly stated, was her classroom. Surprisingly to him it wasn't McGonagall's old classroom. Watching the many students walk from the classes he perked up. 'Maybe there was a chance for things to be okay' he smiled.
He found the room after a frustrated growl. Its door was exactly as she had mentioned it was. The rusted hinges and light tinted wood was a contrast against the dark dreary walls. It sat ajar allowing him a view into the room. Hermione walked in between rows of desks placing what looked like a handful of toothpicks along them. Pulling the door open he announced his visit.
"Harry, you came." Hermione looked up with a grin. "I was wondering whether you would skip out."
"Skip out? Of what?" Harry relaxed and raised a eyebrow.
"My Lecture, of course." She smiled as she made her way to her desk. Piles of parchment sat humbled on its surface. A silver cup held quills and a bottle of ink sat towards the closets left corner. Harry followed her and leaned against the front desks.
"Hermione, I don't..." He was interrupted by the school bell and the students entering the room in a stream. Turning his head towards the mass of bodies he cringed as students whispered. "Hermione..." He turned his head back and found her smiling.
"Come on Harry, take your seat." Doing as she said harry sighed. Resigning to his fate. Hermione began the class. Her movements and words seemed so natural to him. 'A good job for her.' was his only thought.
"Welcome Sixth years to another day. As you should well be aware of your N.E. are coming up and you will need to study long and hard for them." There were groans of boredom from the class. 'There's the old Hermione.' He chuckled. With a withering glare from Hermione he closed his mouth. The students peered at him with curious stares.
"Now pull out your books and turn to page 162. We will be learning to transfigure a toothpick into a stack of parchments." With that Harry blanked most of it out. He didn't notice the students around him. Yet Hearing a muttered incantation around him he turned to watch as the toothpick in front of said student shuddered. He let his eyes wander towards the students face. It was glazed with frustration. Her glazed eyes were a beady gray and her black hair settled around her face.
"Here, don't focus so much on the Theory of it." He offered noticing the jump of surprise of her. "Number one rule is to always feel the magic." Waiting for a response other then a stare he sighed. "Watch." He waved his wand effortlessly and watched as the toothpick grew then morphed its body elongating. Its texture visually became drier. Looking back at the student he noticed a glare from the students around her. "What you gotta remember in transfiguration is that size matters. Its harder to change a pebble into a house then its is to turn a tree into a house. It requires more effort. You get it?"
"Umm...okay, I..wha.." She stuttered out. She viably shook.
"Cast a engorgement charm first." was his only hint as he changed his work back to the toothpick. "Now watch the movement of the wand. Twirl your wand, but keep the wand itself pointed away from the object. With a flick you let the wand drop to the object as you speak the incantation." Harry watched her try it and with a amazed look on her face she smiled.
"But you didn't use the incantation!" A voice bellowed behind him. Harry looked up and noticed the stares. Turning his head to the teachers desk, Hermione sat behind it with a wonder on her face.
"Well with practice you can silent cast. Magic is about the feeling. You've got to let it flow. If you restrict it to what it has to do then everything's for not." Harry stared at Hermione trying to will her to get her class on track.
"Rule Number One, right?" The girl he was helping spoke shyly. Harry nodded his head.
"Transfiguration is a open art." Harry said without thinking as he played with is wand admiring the cuts and dents along its length.
"What do you mean by that?" His head snapped to the back where Albus Dumbledore stood; waiting.
"Headmaster!" Was the general gasp. Harry groaned. He sighed before answering.
"Spells are, how should I say it, restricting." Harry shook his head. "Wait no that's not right." Looking around the class he noticed a halted curiosity among most of the present. "I would need to explain the creation of spells and Theory of Molecular Magic to fully have the class grasp it."
"Then by all means," Dumbledore Reconciled, "Tell us about it; that is if Professor Granger allows you to? He asked turning his head towards Hermione questioningly.
"Not at all Harry." She answered gazing intently.
"I..I..Fine." Harry stood up. He was never a speech person, that wasn't to say that given the opportunities he wouldn't speak, but it became redundant to him in the long run. He began to pace the length of the front with nerves as he spoke. "To some of the newer researchers of magic, I being one of them, magic has become a physical being. That is saying it isn't as non-see-able as one would think. First its obvious from the fact that we can cast spells, but even that answer was lacking a reason to me."
"How many Muggle-born's are in this room, excluding Hermione?" He asked the class. A few nervously raised their hands. "Okay, what do you know of muggle Physics?" No answer was given. Harry sighed for a few moments as silence rendered the room comatose. He gathered his thoughts.
"Physics was created by the muggles under the bases of a particle. This particle is beyond our comprehension physically. We can only guess at what it does. The Human Eye cant even register its there; its that small. This particle is, what we believe, made of three smaller particles and then even smaller particles. You have the Proton, Electron, and Neutron. Yet this is irrelevant to the topic. This Particle, or more formally known as a Atom, Exists in four states, which we call States of matter. The first is Solid." He moved and knocked on Hermione's desk. " The second is liquid." Waving his wand her conjured a glass and filled it with water. "The third is gas," he took heavy breaths, ";like the air we breath." Harry leaned against Hermione's desk not noticing the children s stares. " the Fourth is plasma. This one is harder to explain. We believe it exists in the sun and our blood. Well I should say , we know it exists in the sun and our blood."
"What I have come up with, and a few colleagues, is that there in actuality exist a fifth state; Magic. Its this state that we control." Harry stopped his lecture for a few minutes and took a drink from his conjured glass. "When you transfigure something you are controlling that part of matter. You are manipulating the matter that exists in that state. When you conjure a glass you are forming the particles into the shape then changing their state to solid. That why when you do so it looks as if its moving like a liquid as the glass is formed. Then a solid, because you need to follow a tiered grid of the states. First Magic, then Gas, then liquid, then solid." He chuckled. "You ever wonder why its easier to conjure water then it is to conjure a glass?" he asked as he glanced at Dumbledore.
"No I have not ...but now that I think about I see your point." Dumbledore looked to the students. "what is getting at is that you have to go through more states to get a glass then to get water." There was a general gasp at the mention of Harry's name, but it was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. "Ah...it seems that we will have to cut this short. Maybe Mr, potter will be able to lecture again?" It wasn't a statement it was a question. Harry nodded again. He felt a warmth rush through his skin at thinking he actually taught something. Harry watched as the students left dazed and with rushed mutters of the lecture.
Hermione smiled at him before speaking. "Its lunch time Harry." His stomach grumbled. He also noticed the glazed and bewildered look she gave him. Turning his head to speak with Dumbledore he found the classroom empty. Shaking his head he followed Hermione out.
The Clean Road...
9:42 P.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Harry sat on his bead. He M4 was disassembled around him as he used a toothbrush and rag to neatly clean the parts of soot and dirt. The black parts were ever so manicured of any blemish. He had no idea what to do with his time. His plan had been to fight Voldemort, yet he came here and the battle was lost. How he was to keep it going was beyond him. He was neither an army nor an assassin. What he was; was knowledgeable and skill.
He had somewhat of an idea, as he reassembled his weapon, to attack well known Death-eaters. Also he knew that he would have to get into the old ministry building and Gringotts. With a sigh he set his M4 next to him and moved to a finely sharpened dagger. The glean indicated it was silver. The handle was gold and held sweat marks on its leather grip. Simple, yet elegant. It was given to him by a goblin in 1998. The same year he learned to fight with both it and any other medieval weapon. Running the rag along it he unmarked it. His concentration turned back to what he had to do at hand. It seemed that he had found a place at Hogwarts and he kinda liked it. It gave him a sense of accomplishment.
The day had been rough with stiff limbs, yet inviting. It would turn into a routine as time went on and he hoped it did. He let his eyes wander the blade as he ran his finger along its blunted edge. Grabbing a sharpening rock he set to work with his mind wandering to the day he had obtained the weapon.
What he says isn't...wha?
?:? ?.?, Late August 1998, Alternate.
Giving a glance at his opponent's grin he leaped back from the long-blade. It struck the ground with the release of sparks. The manicured gloss floor was slippery against his shoes. Making a split second decision as the goblin rushed him swinging his blade in a berserk twirl. Harry ripped his shoes and socks from his feet leaving them on the ground before nearly getting stuck as he dodged towards his left.
Harry placed himself away from the wall. Pulling two short swords from their sheaths he circled his opponent; who did the same. The grin still plastered to his face irritated Harry to no end. Harry's left blade came up in a uppercut only to be blocked by the longsword. Harry's right blade swung from the goblins left. The goblin in turned slide his sword along Harry's left blade pushing Harry back and caused him to become unstable. He then swung the long-blade to clatter with Harry's right, pushing that away as he went to strike.
The long-blade came barreling towards Harry's neck, his reaction was to stumble back. Slamming his fist into the goblins face was unsuspected. The fight was put on hold. The goblin spit blood onto the floor. Lifting his head the goblin grinned at Harry leaving him with the frightening image of sharp bloodied teeth. He full out bellowed. Rushing Harry theirs swords clattered in heated battle.
Minutes rolled by of near kills and scarred strikes. Losing his left sword Harry weaved away from the goblins strike before getting close and personal. Letting his fingers slide around the goblins neck he lifted him with a grunt. Tossing the goblin in to the wall he brought his blade and slammed it into the wall; right next to the goblins head. Both were grinning and heaved with labored breaths. Not long they chuckled. Harry released his grip and let the goblin scuttle down the wall.
"Good Harry, you must learn to not hold back." The goblin chuckled. Director Ragnorok had been Harry's teacher in the arts of sword fighting for the past year. "you have come far in your studies and with a goodbye I wish for you to have this." Ragnorok pulled a leather sheath from his desk. Handing it to Harry he turned his head to his desk grabbing a sheet of paper to begin his work again.
"That's it..." Harry was bewildered by the sudden cold shoulder he received.
"There is nothing else I can teach you. Now its up to you and your practice. Maybe one day we will fight again. Maybe together or not; who knows." Ragnorok smiled, but it turned out to be more of a smirk. Harry nodded. Standing up he left the office and its occupant to their work.
Harry slide the dagger from its sheath. Its foot long length gleamed with silver. The lights reflected off of the surface with ease. The handle was wrapped in a warm taupe leather for grip. The guards were iron and settled without any mold. 'Ragnorok'
The Clean Road... Are We There Yet?
10:21 P.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Coming back from his reminiscent streak he smiled. He had lost so much at the time, yet now he felt as if he gained so much. He felt a weight being lift off of his shoulders. He accepted everything. The prophecy, Voldemort, the war; everything. He would protect these children. He would protect everyone. Smiling he put both his blade, which he sole named Ragnorok, and his M4 away in his satchel. Standing he decided he needed to speak with Dumbledore. Using his memory to find the path he set off on the adventure.
This is Your Home...
(by Masashi Hamauzu, from the Final Fantasy 13 soundtrack)
Unto God she wrote...
"It was wrought with iron, the goddess does bowith towards the sun in eternal love. Thou shall wither in the beckoning beauty of paneled glass. The great brother shall light your path, but beware of the nightly lupine for if thou wishith it of the goddess; she will fall."
"It was on this day that the eternal being was split to conceive Destiny and Fate, yes two of the same. These goddesses will lay to death upon the day of apocalypse knowing not what they caused for with on ego separate from another, all is not shared. The sisters will vie for attention."
Forgotten, 1996, Alternate.
The church stood tall. The walls left protection against unwanted violence. Glass windows occupied the only stints of weakness. These windows were made as art and sat tall like art. Figures were worked into the panels with multicolored shards of glass. It spoke of long lost stories. Along the ceiling were painted dictations of gods and goddess all punished upon earth from heaven and hell.
Along the floor Benches sat symmetric leaving a path to walk to the far end of the room. These benches were cut from wood yet iron capped its joints allowing for the sturdy age to last. At the far end of the room an alter sat empty of its priest. A statue hung from the wall dictating the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. A six year old Harry Potter kneel-ed at the alter his head bowed in pray. His begging was heard echoing across the ageless room.
"Please God, if you are real, then why am I here? The Dursleys' don't like me. They beat me daily. I don't ever get to eat." A tear fell from his eye. "I know I don't belong here but why?"
Harry Potter's cries left the room with wonder. He shuddered and moaned with pain. Moonlight shifted through the glass letting all see the boys loss.
"Destiny will try to hunt for the Chosen and he will cry on her shoulders. Fate will search for the Chosen and he shall be kicked to the curb. Yet prevail and blame he shall not. For when one wishes to be loved not all is for not. Yet death will be his only escape from both Fate and Destiny."
A roar ripped the silence asunder. "I just want to be loved!" He stood and defiled the statue of Jesus. His fist pounded against the stone. Blood seeped from his knuckles to stain its surface. Tears joined the statues at its feet. He fell weeping, accepting his fate, his destiny. He would have to return to the Dursleys' and suffer.
Harry stood with pride and stumbled back with a limp. "I won't forget...you never answered me...I will show you." He walked the length of the hall stopping at the double heavy wooden doors he turn. Meeting the eyes of the statue he sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't enough."
Harry had returned to a house on Private Drive and he was met with rage. The scars remain along his back; to the present it will remain.
An Offer of a Hand...
12:00 A.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Harry let his hand fall against Dumbledore's office door. "Thud, thud,thud" was the received sound. Waiting for an answer he realized that people slept. Chuckling to himself he turned to leave when the door was pulled open by no other then Professor McGonagall. She wore a night gown that held flowery patterns. It fell to her feet. Letting his eyes return to her stern face he noticed the smile. Smiling back he chuckled. McGonagall stepped aside letting him enter. Finding Dumbledore sitting I his high backed leather chair he couldn't help the smirk. Looking form McGonagall to Dumbledore.
"You old dog...snagging yourself McGonagall..." He was interrupted by the woman's hand connecting with the back of his head. She moved to stand besides the desk. Harry rubbed the back of his head and noticed another guest. Staring at the Weasley red hair he couldn't help but smile at his long time gangly friend. Ron had grown into his muscles, his job obviously adding to that. Not only that he grew a few more inches.
Ron stood up and clapped him on the back with a smile. Harry noticed something he hadn't noticed on Hermione's hand; a wedding ring. Pointing to it he asked, "Who's the lucky lady?" Ron chuckled.
"You remember Luna Lovegood, right?" Ron answer with a smirk.
"You mean, its not you and Hermione?" Harry became confused. 'A lot has changed'
"Nope, never worked mate, we bickered way to much. Besides it felt like I was trying to replace my mother." There was a pause. "that's besides the point, what about you? How have you been?"
"Mr. Weasley, you wished to speak with me?" Dumbledore interrupted their conversation with a gentle smile. "It is late and I do need my sleep."
"Of course" Ron turned back to the matter at hand taking his seat he passed over a folder to Dumbledore that he pulled out of his robes. Harry moved closer towards the desk. Everyone waited in baited breaths as Dumbledore Read.
"I see.." Was Dumbledore's only comment.
"Given what little information we have it is my suspicion that Voldemort is going to attempt to infiltrate Hogwarts by the end of this school year. Now I don't have enough Aurors to protect the School from an army."
"Us teachers won't stand by Mr. Weasley." McGonagall spoke with malice.
"I never expected as much, but even then..." Ron sighed "We don't have the man power nor the wards to protect everyone. Our escape plan can go smoothly that is if we find a place to send people. I don't feel right just sending them off on their own."
Harry was surprised at the rise in maturity of Ron. Eleven years had done him good. Wanting a piece of the conversation he spoke up. "How and what wards do you have in place?" It was a general question.
"Not enough Harry" Was Ron's sad reply.
"I can add more and power them further when I find the time." Harry let it settle.
" I doubt anyone one can make the wards any stronger." Dumbledore spoke with resignation.
"Well, Albus Dumbledore giving up?" Harry chuckled at their looks. "You obviously don't realize that I can do the Impossible." He twiddled his fingers while saying, "Its like Magic!" Their Laughter echoed around the room.
"We will put our faith into you then " Dumbledore indicated his thanks with a nod. "That still leaves our problem. We need more Aurors."
"Again, I'm here and like we always said Voldemort is scared of me and Dumbledore." Harry shook his head. "I don't know why though. What I say we do is wait and watch. What defenses do you have set up?"
Ron answered him with confusion, "Defenses? The wards mate" Harry sighed with boredom.
"Fine, lets place explosives along the bridge leading into Hogwarts. We can also create Bulwarks that close when commanded to so others can run away. First though we need to find the best route through the castle and determine every route the Death-Eaters could take. Ron, do you have my Marauders map?"
12:56 A.M, November 2008, Alternate.
"I believe you wished to speak to ?" Dumbledore asked after both Ron and McGonagall left to their rooms. Harry took the seat Ron had vacated with a sigh.
"Yes I wanted to know where you needed me around here. For now I will be staying." Harry shook his head. "That's not to say I wont be leaving, Voldemort's out there and I need to finish this war before I can take care of the other."
"Whats your plans? As of now you could lecture a Extracurricular class...if that pleases you and as you just did you are now apart of the defense team here at Hogwarts." Dumbledore stood up and let his hands slide over Fawkes' feathers. The majestic Phoenix woke with a cry.
"Of now I don't have any..." Harry left that to a pregnant pause.
Dumbledore took lead, "You really don't expect me to believe that now do you Harry." He waited for Harry's response. Sighing, Harry shook his head.
"I need to get into Gringotts and the Ministry to get as many records, on any Death-eaters, as I can." Harry stood up and heard the cracking of his bones from the sudden motion. He slammed his fist against Dumbledore's desk with anger. "I won't let Voldemort get any farther then he is."
"There's personal reason to aren't there?" Harry looked away in shame.
"I..I.." Harry stopped and composed himself. "I need, no, want to get files on my parents. There is also a Marriage Contract withing my vaults. As of July 31st of 1997 I have been married."
"May I ask to who?" Dumbledore Inquired.
"Daphne Greengrass, Hermione told me that I should let her know. She said it would be unfair for Ms. Greengrass to find out her unknown husband had died." There was a silent wait for someone to make noise. With a raised eyebrow Dumbledore broke this silence.
"Would it not be Mrs. Potter?" And it hit Harry hard. Dumbledore was right. Harry sagged his shoulders.
"Your Right..." this gave him even more reason to move his plans forward. Harry sat down and let his mind wander. He was twenty-eight years old and married to a woman who had no idea. He found he was alone. He found himself remembering their slight confrontation in the great hall during his sixth year.
The Slytherin...
Forgotten, September 1996, Alternate.
Harry was making his way to potions with slight nervousness. He had been caught off guard by McGonagall declaration of his ability to join into potions now that Snape didn't teach the class. His mind had been stuck on this fact that as he turned around a corner he ran, hard, into another body.
They both fell to the floor with loud exclamations of pain.
"Damn you Potter watch where your going!" was his victims response. Looking up he caught the glance, more of a glare really, of baby blue eyes. The girls robes hid her developing body well and her cold demur hide her emotions well. She strode away towards the restrooms. Letting his eyes wander towards he swaying behind he became memorized. Sighing he turned around as she turned the corner. 'Pervert'
1:12 A.M, November 2008, Alternate.
Harry was pulled out of his mind by Dumbledore's chuckle. "Harry, Its best if we both find our beds to sleep, don't you think so?" It wasn't a question really and Harry stood from the chair with a nod.
Lazily he moved to the door. He turned at Dumbledore's voice. "And Harry remember there's more to people then what we see. With that goodnight." Harry stepped out of the office and made his way to his bedroom all the while his mind stuck on the idea that he was married. 'Damn you Dumbledore.'
With that his mind wandered. He wondered what it would have been like should he have not ran. What would have happened to everyone. How would Voldemort reacted? Shaking his head, he would never know. At this moment he needed to get to Gringotts and he had a plan.
An Excerpt from the Book of Gods, as shown in Unto God She Wrote...
"Long there has existed the gods, but even longer the earth; Gaia. Sleep was a general state of awareness among these beings and to be recognized as one was to live a life of pain. Long ago the Gods were free to roam and pillage and grow up earth until on eve. Erunic the god of fortune's bane had wrought himself chains of gold to hold the earth still. Murdering and raping the subjects of Gaia herself. This taste of sin was never enough for Erunic as he strove to taste the barest of fruits; Gaia herself. Taking hold of the chains he bound Gaia to himself as she became his sex slave."
"One day it was thought A chosen one would come and break Gaia from these Chains that Erunic's minions have bound her to; And Hope She did."
Authors note;
Wow, that's a lot of words. Now this story will take long intervals to update as I'm hoping I can keep up a 5000 word chapter every update. You know I love the Harry Potter Universe. J.K Rowling has let such a huge interpretation. One of my favorite Scenes from this story is the section labeled Unto God She Wrote...
No where in the books did it ever really go into Harry's religious background, nor did it talk of church or any of Harry's life before Hogwarts. Ya, we know he went to primary school that he was "abuse" but not his "Life." I always wondered what Harry's view on religion was. I like the Idea that he blames his life on god. And that's what I tried to show.
Now as far as anything else goes I would REALLY appreciate some reviews. I cut the chapter into sections so that you can give me a place to look at if need be. Just tell me whats your favorite section or your least favorite. ANYTHING! 'sigh'
Criticism makes the world go round. =}
Now as far as the Muggle war goes, Its not there. For most of the story, at least the beginning, its a minor nuisance and a background blabber. Now that not to go and say I'm never going to explain the starting of it or the solution, but for NOW it is simply there. Harry's mind is looking to exterminate Voldemort per the Prophecy.
Again Review, please!
Also ask any questions if you wish!
The Humble;
Dorkfoot
Statistics;
Chapter;
Word Count: 9581
Characters:51802
Authors note;
Word Count:256
Characters:1339
Review, Please!
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