Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, "Hey, I know what you're thinking...no it's not what it looks like. Wait – yes...uh no Harry is definitely not a slave.
Synopsis: Harry Potter becomes injured in the Ministry battle in his attempts to rescue his godfather. An encounter with a broken Time-Turner causes him to gain the power to manipulate time and space. Hermione is a strong-willed, intelligent witch who is loyal to Harry. Luna is a quirky, eccentric witch who is known to make Harry smile with her random comments. Who is the one destined to be with Harry?
Author's Note:
I would like to thank Philosophize and Angy2015 for their valuable time editing this story. Their corrections make it a more enjoyable read for everyone.
Chapter 1
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived - or as he preferred it, 'just Harry' - did not feel lucky at this moment. The young teenager groaned once again, at finding himself in the hospital wing under the tender care of Madam Pomfrey. It would seem fate derived extreme, perverse pleasure in placing him there every other day, infuriating him to no end.
Harry stared up at the bland ceiling, all the while butting his head into the pillow. Thinking about the events that happened less than three hours ago made his emotions boil, and his countenance crumble with anger, confusion and guilt.
Madam Pomfrey glanced at Harry, while she continued her spell diagnosis, and sighed.
"Mr. Potter, you will desist your silly head bashing ritual this instant so I can finish my scans," she said sternly.
"Sorry Madam Pomfrey, I'm just restless," Harry droned. Privately, he wanted nothing more than to leave the wing and find an isolated place where no one would disturb him.
The matron must have noticed his dead, monotone voice because her usually stern countenance softened. She finished her spell diagnosis and placed her wand back inside the folds of her medical robes.
"Mr. Potter...Harry, do you think you could explain what happened and how you got those chest wounds?" she asked kindly. "I am picking up some peculiar readings from them, which is disquieting to say the least."
Harry nodded and sighed.
"Right, well um, it all started when…."
3 Hrs ago
Flashback
"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"
"He dared…he dares?" shrieked Bellatrix incoherently. "He stands there…filthy half-blood—"
"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" bawled Malfoy.
Harry cursed inwardly as he glanced from the Death Eaters to his group and back. He could feel the tension in the air as everyone was poised to strike. The Death Eaters were seconds away from sending deadly spells at Harry's group, and all that stood in their way was the measly, swirling ball held firmly in Harry's hand.
Harry noticed how two Death Eaters disintegrated when they came into skin contact with falling prophecy balls from collapsed shelves. Their clumsiness as they bumped into the shelves had cost them their lives. Nothing remained of them but fragments of glass upon the floor.
Some kind of deadly, protective curses on the prophecy balls? he speculated. Their deaths had given Harry an idea. The problem was going to be conveying it to the others.
"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," he said, playing for time. He moved his foot slowly sideways, feeling around for someone else's.
"Do not play games with us, Potter," said Malfoy.
"I'm not playing games," said Harry, half his mind on the conversation, half on his wandering foot. He found someone's toes, and pressed down on them. A sharp intake of breath behind him told him they were Hermione's.
"What?" she whispered.
"Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?" asked Malfoy with a sneer.
"I... what?" said Harry. His plan was all but forgotten for the moment. "What about my scar?"
"What?" whispered Hermione more urgently behind him.
"Can this be?" said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again, and under cover of their laughter, Harry hissed to Hermione, moving his lips as little as possible, "Smash the shelves."
"Dumbledore never told you?" Malfoy repeated. "Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why…"
"- when I say now –"
"...you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording..."
"Did he?" said Harry. His mind began to churn questions, and emotions already high from the adrenaline of combat, began to swirl and engulf him. Why had Dumbledore never told him the Prophecy? Why had the Headmaster never warned Harry of his connection to Voldemort? Why the Order wasn't already here to save his group was a mystery in itself, as it had been hours since Harry had told Snape of Voldemort and the Ministry. Dumbledore and the Order should have gotten to the Ministry long before Harry's group could have reached London by flying on Thestrals.
At first he was confused, then he was irritated, and, finally, he grew angry. Shaking his head, the young teenager was determined get answers from Dumbledore if it was the last thing he did. But he had to get his friends out of harm's way first, or he would never forgive himself should anything happen to them.
Behind him he felt rather than heard Hermione passing his message to the others, and he sought to keep talking to distract the Death Eaters.
"So he wanted me to come and get it, did he? Why?"
"Why?" Malfoy sounded incredulously delighted.
"Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him."
"And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?"
"About both of you, Potter, about both of you...haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?"
Harry stared into the slitted eye-holes through which Malfoy's grey eyes were gleaming. Was this prophecy the reason Harry's parents had died, the reason he carried his lightning-bolt scar? Was the answer to all of this clutched in his hand?
"Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me?" he asked quietly, gazing at Lucius Malfoy, his fingers tightening over the warm glass sphere in his hand. It was hardly larger than a Snitch and still gritty with dust.
"And he's made me come and get it for him? Why couldn't he come and get it himself?"
"Get it himself?" shrieked Bellatrix over a cackle of mad laughter.
"The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when the incompetent fools are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?"
"So, he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?" said Harry. "Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it? And Bode?"
"Very good, Potter, very good..." said Malfoy slowly. "But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell–"
"NOW!" yelled Harry.
Five different voices behind him bellowed, "REDUCTO!" Five curses flew in five different directions, and the shelves opposite them exploded as the curses hit. The towering structure swayed as a hundred glass spheres burst apart. Everyone stopped and stared as pearly-white figures unfurled and floated into the air, their voices echoing from who knew what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down around them.
"RUN!" Harry yelled as the shelves swayed precariously and more glass spheres began to fall from above. He seized a handful of Hermione's robes and dragged her forwards, holding one arm over his head as chunks of shelf and shards of glass thundered down upon them.
The group sprinted, barely managing to stay ahead of the falling, broken prophetic balls behind them. As spells flew past their heads, smashing into more shelves, Harry could distinctly make out a yell behind him.
"YOU FOOLS, stop firing! We need the prophecy intact!" Malfoy roared.
The spells stopped, but Harry didn't dare slow his pace as he followed Neville while shielding Hermione with his arm wrapped protectively around her. Amidst the chaos, Harry failed to notice that his group had split up at the end of the passage, and it was not until they came to a strange room bearing trinkets that Harry realized what was wrong.
"Where... where are the others?" gasped Harry.
He had thought Ron, Luna and Ginny were ahead of them, that they would be waiting in this room, but there was nobody there.
"They must have gone the wrong way!" whispered Hermione, terror in her face.
"Listen!" whispered Neville. The group could hear the pattering of footsteps drawing closer, whether it was friend or foe, they could not discern.
"What do we do?" Hermione asked Harry, trembling from head to foot.
"Well, we don't stand here waiting for them to find us, for a start," Harry said. "Let's get away from this door."
They ran as quietly as they could, past a shimmering bell jar where a tiny egg was hatching and unhatching, towards the exit into the circular hallway at the far end of the room. They were almost there when Harry heard something large and heavy collide with the door Hermione charmed shut.
"Stand aside!" said a rough voice behind the door. "Alohomora!"
As the door flew open, Harry, Hermione, and Neville dived under desks. They could see the bottom of the two Death Eaters' robes drawing nearer, their feet moving rapidly.
"They might've run straight through to the hall," said the rough voice.
"Check under the desks," said another.
Harry saw the knees of the Death Eaters bend; poking his wand out from under the desk, he shouted, "STUPEFY!"
A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backwards into a grandfather clock and knocked it over; the second Death Eater, however, leapt aside to avoid Harry's spell and was pointing his own wand at Hermione, who was crawling out from under the desk to get a better aim.
"Avada —"
Harry launched himself across the floor and grabbed the Death Eater around the knees, causing him to topple and his aim to go awry. Neville overturned a desk in his anxiety to help and pointed his wand wildly at the struggling pair, crying out,
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
Both Harry's and the Death Eater's wands flew out of their hands, soaring back towards the entrance of the Hall of Prophecy. The two combatants scrambled to their feet and charged after their wands , the Death Eater in front, and Harry hot on his heels. Neville brought up the rear, plainly horrorstruck by what he had done.
"Get out of the way, Harry!" He yelled, clearly determined to repair the damage.
Harry flung himself sideways as Neville took aim again and shouted,
"STUPEFY!"
The jet of red light flew right over the Death Eater's shoulder and hit a glass-fronted cabinet on the wall full of variously shaped hour-glasses; the cabinet fell to the floor and burst apart, glass flying everywhere, sprang back up on to the wall, fully mended, then fell down again, and shattered.
The sound of hundreds of time-turners shattering on the floor around the overturned cabinet temporarily drowned out the buzz of fighting in the background. Harry landed hard on the floor and tried to fight the rising panic as falling hour-glasses smashed around him.
Glancing up, Harry saw a slightly larger time-turner directly above him fall in a tantalizing manner, as if daring him to even twitch. Harry tried rolling to the side, but his aching body refused to move, prompting him to shield his face with his arms. The large time-turner impacted directly on the center of his chest, and pain exploded in his sternum. Harry looked down to see several jagged pieces of glass from the broken time-turner which had cut into his skin, drawing blood.
For the most part, the cuts appeared shallow, but sharp, jagged pain still lanced through his nerve endings whenever he tried to move. Harry was in too much pain to notice the gold sand percolating through broken shards of the hour glass and falling onto the shallow wound. As the sand seeped in, Harry felt a new sensation of burning pain as if his blood was on fire.
The unstable, unpredictable gold sand saturated the wound, which eventually became exposed directly to Harry's magic core; eliciting a new boiling pain ten times worse than the Cruciatus curse that spread from toe to head.
Harry almost bit his tongue as the pain gradually worsened, provoking him to curl into a ball. His chest felt like a mini supernova which perhaps wasn't far from the truth. His magical core was reacting to the sand in an explosive manner, and for a full minute, all Harry could do was weather the pain. After what seemed like an eternity, the pain subsided enough for Harry to open his eyes. Though the world appeared red-dimmed, Harry could still see the glass sticking into his chest.
Clenching his jaw, Harry ripped the glass from his chest, causing him to almost black out. He gingerly stood up and glanced around, looking for the Death Eater. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Neville fire another Stunning spell at the scrambling wizard, who promptly dodged the scarlet jet of light.
The Death Eater quickly snatched up his blackened wand, which lay on the floor beside the glittering bell jar. Harry ducked down behind another desk as the man turned with his death mask slightly displaced, blocking his view of Harry. He ripped it off with his free hand and shouted: "STUP—"
"STUPEFY!" screamed Hermione, who had just caught up with them. The jet of red light hit the Death Eater in the middle of his chest: he froze, his arm still raised, his wand fell to the floor with a flatter and he collapsed backwards towards the bell jar.
Harry expected to hear a clunk, for the man to hit solid glass and slide off the jar on to the floor; instead, his head sank through the surface of the bell jar as though it were nothing but a soap bubble, and he came to rest, sprawled on his back on the table, with his head lying inside the jar full of glittering wind.
"Accio Harry's wand!" cried Hermione. Harry's wand flew from a dark corner into her hand and she threw it to him.
"That looks like a nasty wound Harry, let me look at that," said Hermione, pointing at Harry's chest.
She aimed her wand at the bleeding wounds and incanted, "Vulnera Sanentur." With a silver glow, the skin started knitting back together, and in seconds, Harry's chest was smooth and unblemished. Suddenly, the wound re-opened and blood resumed dripping from the open cut. Hermione gasped and frowned in thought.
"Madam Pomfrey will have to heal that Harry," Hermione murmured, her voice thick with worry. "The cut isn't too bad and you're not losing too much blood but, this might be serious…"
"Thanks," he said. "Right, let's get out of—"
"Look out!" said Neville, horrified. He was staring at the Death Eater's head in the bell jar.
All three of them raised their wands again, but none of them struck; they were all gazing, open-mouthed, appalled, at what was happening to the man's head.
It was shrinking fast, growing balder and balder, the black hair and stubble retracting into his skull; his cheeks becoming smooth, his skull round and covered with a peach-like fuzz...
A baby's head now sat grotesquely on top of the thick, muscled neck of the Death Eater as he struggled to get up again; but even as they watched, with their mouths agape, the head began to swell to its previous proportions again; thick black hair was sprouting from the jawline and chin...
"It's Time," said Hermione in an awestruck voice. "Time is de-aging him. . ."
As Hermione spoke, Harry felt a pressure build and diminish with varying intervals from his chest as the Death eater's head increased and shrunk. He heard a distinct buzzing sound that shrilled different monotones in tangent with the growing/shrinking head of the flailing death eater.
The Death Eater shook his ugly head again, trying to clear it, but before he could pull himself together it began to shrink back to babyhood once more...
There was a shout from a room nearby, then a crash and a scream.
"RON?" Harry yelled, turning from the monstrous transformation taking place before them. "GINNY? LUNA?"
"Harry!" Hermione screamed, drawing his attention.
The Death Eater had pulled his head out of the bell jar. His appearance was utterly bizarre, his tiny baby's head bawling loudly while his thick arms flailed dangerously in all directions, narrowly missing Harry, who had ducked.
Harry raised his wand but to his confusion, Hermione seized his arm preventing him from firing at the flailing man before him.
"You can't hurt a baby!"
There was no time to argue the point; Harry could hear more footsteps growing louder from the Hall of Prophecy and knew, too late, that he ought not to have shouted and given away their position.
"Come on!" he said, and leaving the ugly baby-headed Death Eater staggering behind them they took off for the door that stood open at the other end of the room, leading back into the black hallway.
Reuniting with the others much to Harry's relief, they fought their way through the ministry with the death eaters hot on their tails; his group had amassed an assortment of injuries from Neville's broken nose to Hermione's shoulder to hip laceration. Ron was completely useless due to his encounter with the tentacle brains, and Ginny wasn't faring much better due to her broken ankle. Only Luna was left relatively unscathed but for how long, Harry could not say, especially with the death-munchers outnumbering them.
Harry knew the group couldn't keep going much longer, try as he might, Harry couldn't think of a way to get everyone safely out of the Department of Mystery. Shaking his head, he vowed to learn some healing magic at Hogwarts if they ever got out of this; if ever his group got injured again.
"Come on guys, we can't stop!" said Harry firmly. As one they moved as quickly as their injuries would allow, eventually ending back in the Veil room where the Archway stood in the center. Harry couldn't remember how the Death Eaters caught up to them but he had no time to reflect as they stood menacingly, surrounding him.
The Death Eaters all halted, gazing at him. Some were panting as hard as he was. One was bleeding badly; Dolohov, freed of the Body-Bind Curse, was leering, his wand pointing straight at Harry's face.
"Potter, this is the end of the line," drawled Lucius Malfoy, pulling off his mask. "Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy."
"Let... let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" said Harry desperately.
A few of the Death Eaters laughed.
"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," said Malfoy, his pale face morphing into a sneer that could rival Snape's.
"You see, there are ten of us and only one of you...or hasn't Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?"
"He's dnot alone!" shouted a voice from behind Harry. "He's still god me!"
Harry's heart sank: Neville was scrambling past Harry, Hermione's wand held fast in his trembling hand.
"Neville, no! Go back to Ron!"
"STUBEFY!" Neville shouted again, pointing his wand at each Death Eater in turn. "STUBEFY! STUBE—"
One of the largest Death Eaters seized Neville from the side, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled and kicked while several of the Death Eaters laughed at him.
"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" said Lucius Malfoy with a sneer. "Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause...your death will not come as a great shock."
"Longbottom?" repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy."
"I DOE YOU HAB!" roared Neville, and he fought so hard against his captor's encircling grip that the Death Eater shouted, "Someone stun him!"
"No, no, no," said Bellatrix. She looked transformed, alive with excitement as she glanced at Harry, then back at Neville.
"No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents...unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy."
"DON'D GIB ID DO DEM!" roared Neville, who seemed beside himself, kicking and writhing as Bellatrix drew nearer to him and his captor, her wand raised. "DON'D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!"
Bellatrix raised her wand. "Crucio!"
Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground. The Death Eater dropped him and he fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony.
"That was just a taster!" said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Neville's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed at Harry. "Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way!"
Harry did not have to think; there was no choice. The prophecy was hot with the heat of his clutching hand as he held it out. Malfoy jumped forwards to take it.
Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley.
Finally…what took them so long? Harry wondered.
Malfoy turned and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a stunning spell right at him.
Harry didn't wait to see whether it made contact, but dived off the dais out of the way. The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step towards the sunken floor. Through the darting bodies and flashes of light, Harry could see Neville crawling along. He dodged another jet of red light and flung himself flat on the ground to reach Neville.
"Are you OK?" he yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads.
"Yes," said Neville, trying to pull himself up.
"And Ron?"
"I dink he's all righd - he was still fighting de brain when I lefd—"
The stone floor between them exploded as a blasting spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Neville's hand had been only seconds before. Both teenagers scrambled away from the spot, though Harry froze as a thick burly arm out of nowhere, seized him around his neck and squeezed, cutting off his supply of air.
"Give it to me," growled a voice in his ear. "Give me the prophecy!"
Through watering eyes Harry saw Sirius dueling with a Death Eater some ten feet away. Kingsley was fighting two at once and holding his own while Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at Bellatrix.
Nobody seemed to realize that Harry was in dire straits, unable to breathe as the unknown Death Eater continued to choke him. He turned his wand backwards towards the man's side, but had no breath to utter an incantation. At the same time, the man's free hand was grappling with the hand in which Harry held the prophecy.
As his vision darkened in the corners, Harry mused that he would need to learn silent spell casting as well as healing magic if he ever made it out of this. Merlin, why was I so lazy at Hogwarts? Harry wondered, cursing himself.
"AARGH!"
Neville had come lunging out of nowhere; unable to articulate a spell, he had jabbed Hermione's wand hard into the eyehole of the Death Eater's mask. The man relinquished Harry at once with a howl of pain. Harry whirled around to face him, wand pointed out and bellowed,
"STUPEFY!"
The Death Eater keeled over backwards and his mask slipped off: it was Macnair, Buckbeak's would-be killer, one of his eyes now swollen and bloodshot.
"Thanks!" Harry said to Neville, pulling him aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, dueling so fiercely that their wands were blurs; then Harry's foot made contact with something round and hard and he slipped. For a moment he thought he had dropped the prophecy, but then he saw Moody's magical eye spinning away across the floor.
Its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down upon Harry and Neville; Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee.
"Tarantallegra!" he shouted, his wand pointing at Neville, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap-dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again.
Huh, that is weird. Why would a Death Eater cast a harmless dancing jinx spell instead of an Unforgivable? Harry wondered in confusion.
"Now, Potter—"
He made the same slashing movement with his wand that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, "Protego!"
For a moment, nothing happened as Harry's wand shuddered, then with a jolt the charm sprang to life, encasing the teenager in a blue shield. Harry noticed with alarm that the normally sturdy shield looked weak and unstable.
Harry grunted as he felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife; the force of it knocked him sideways and he fell over Neville's jerking legs, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of the spell.
Dolohov raised his wand again. "Accio proph—"
Sirius hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder, and sent him flying out of the way. The prophecy again shifted to the tips of Harry's fingers, but he had managed to cling on to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were dueling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand-tips.
Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Harry and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" Once again, Harry's wand shuddered and after a weak jolt, Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together as he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back.
"Nice one!" shouted Sirius, before he forced Harry's head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew towards them. Harry for his part just frowned and glared at his wand. For a while he had noticed his magic had been acting up and every time he had sent a spell, the magic refused to cooperate. Ever since he had been hit with….
The time-turner…! Harry yelled inwardly. He had no time to think further as Sirius interrupted his thoughts.
"Now I want you to get out of—"
They both ducked again; a jet of green light had narrowly missed Sirius. Across the room Harry saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back towards the fray.
"Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!" Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Harry had no time to argue, despite how desperate he was to help Sirius. Just then Kingsley danced in front of his field of vision, fending off a flurry of spells that ricocheted off the pavement nearby. Harry dodged as another jet of green light flew over his head and he launched himself towards Neville.
"Can you stand?" he bellowed in Neville's ear, as Neville's legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably. "Put your arm round my neck."
Harry pointed his wand at Neville's legs and whispered, "Finite Incantatem."
To his growing annoyance, Harry's wand continued to jerk before spluttering a weak spell which barely managed to counter the jinx on Neville's legs. Out of nowhere, a black clad Death Eater lunged at them forcing both teenagers to fall backwards. Harry hugged the prophecy to his chest with his left hand before it could smash to pieces on the marble pavement as they fell.
"The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!" snarled Lucius Malfoy's voice in his ear, and Harry felt the tip of Malfoy's wand pressing hard between his ribs.
"No, get off me...Neville - catch it!"
Harry flung the prophecy across the floor in Neville's direction. The young herbologist quickly spun his bulky frame and clasped the delicate ball, clutching it to his chest.
Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, "Impedimenta!" With a quake, Harry's wand sputtered before the spell shot forward, directly at Malfoy.
Malfoy was blasted off his back. As Harry scrambled up again he looked around and saw Malfoy smash into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were now dueling. Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and Neville again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them.
"Harry, round up the others and GO!"
Harry seized Neville by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily on to the first tier of stone steps. The teenagers numbly climbed the steps when a spell hit the stone at Harry's heel. The step buckled under Harry's weight, forcing him to trip along with Neville.
"Come on!" said Harry desperately, hauling at Neville's robes. "Just try and push with your legs…"
He gave a strained heave, lifting Neville upright so forcefully that his sandy-haired friend to dropped the small, reflective glass ball. Before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it, propelling it some ten feet to their right where it smashed on the step beneath them.
As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified glasses rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could be heard. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.
"Harry, I'b sorry!" cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. "Tb so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do –"
"It doesn't matter!" Harry shouted. "Just try and stand, let's get out of—"
"Dubbledore!" said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transformed into relief, staring over Harry's shoulder.
"What?"
"DUBBLEDORE!"
Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt the tension rolling away as he looked the Headmaster up and down, though he could also feel his anger rising at the old wizard's tardiness.
Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville and Harry, who had no more thoughts of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realized he was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line.
Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry watched as Sirius ducked Bellatrix's jet of red light, laughing at her the entire time.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
No, no, no, no! Harry screamed inwardly. …Wait, that spell was red which means it wasn't the killing curse.
Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He jumped down the steps again and pulled out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais. Harry's first thought was to use the Summoning charm on Sirius, but he recalled his magic was effectively malfunctioning. So he ran fast as possible towards Sirius, arms extended to catch him.
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall; his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch.
Harry started panicking, and a pressure built up in his chest similar to his earlier, bizarre encounter with the Death Eater's re-growing head in the Time chamber. The buzz in his ears returned with a vengeance and reached a crescendo before abruptly ending in silence. Moments thereafter, time seemed to slow down, slow enough that Harry could see every spell being cast, moving through the air in slow motion.
Harry turned to his godfather who was also moving in slow motion and saw him falling towards the arch, moving perceptively slow like everyone else in the room. Without warning, time sped up again, the pressure and the buzz now absent. The strange occurrence puzzled Harry as spells went flying at normal speed. Both the Death Eaters and the Order were running around dodging and casting without faltering as if the event never happened. Harry shook his head and filed that information away for later.
Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face, which morphed into a serene, impish smile that was tinged with sadness at Harry and winked at him as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place.
Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing. Sirius had only just fallen through the Archway, he would reappear from the other side any second...
But Sirius did not reappear.
"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed. "SIRIUS!"
He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out...
But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.
"There's nothing you can do, Harry..."
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
"...it's too late, Harry."
"We can still reach him!" Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go...
"There's nothing you can do, Harry...nothing...he's gone."
"ACCIO SIRIUS BLACK!"
Harry bellowed at the top of his voice. His wand was pointed straight dead center at the archway, and this time the Holly and Phoenix wand instantly responded to his command. However, as Harry poured more magic into his wand, he felt a tremendous resistance. The wand in his hand began to heat up until it was burning his skin, and Harry had to grab onto the wood with both hands as it started to pull towards the Veil.
"Harry, stop…you will drain your magic," cried Lupin. "You're already showing signs of magical exhaustion".
Harry grunted as the wand started to shake, the wood was discharging copious amounts of smoke now and he could feel the tug on his magical core.
"Moony, help me get Sirius," Harry gasped.
"Harry…he's gone!"
"NO! Why won't you help me?" Harry screamed desperately.
With a cry, Harry dropped the spell and wept in despair as Lupin placed a hand on the young boy. Lupin started to pull Harry away gently, try to coax him out of his shell shocked state.
With a start, Harry twisted out of Lupin's arm and glanced around searching for the reason for his current grief. In moments he found her, the woman who had caused so much angst and misery. Bellatrix Lestrange took one look at Harry and ran out of the room, all the while cackling with mirth.
"This isn't over!" Harry spoke in a deadly monotone.
With that Harry ran after her.
….End Flashback
"I followed Lestrange all the way to the Atrium where I tried to curse her, for some reason my magic was sluggish and dodgy and my spells were dreadfully weak," Harry explained.
"A few taunts and some….err unsolicited tutelage by Lestrange later, Voldemort and Dumbledore arrived and started dueling each other while I got out of the way." Harry did not mention Voldemort's attempted possession, nor that he had attempted a failed Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix. Something things were best left unsaid…
Harry balled his fists as he finished his tale and stared intently at Madam Pomfrey.
"I was so useless, the way Voldemort and Dumbledore fought…it was insane," Harry said as he sighed dejectedly.
"They moved so fast and had an entire repertoire of magic I have never seen before. I think...no, I know I want to fight like that and be better than them one day, but both of them have decades of knowledge and experience over me!"
Surreptitiously, Harry began to think of ways to get better and prove to the world that he was no pushover; he would start by studying harder and excelling in his subjects at Hogwarts. More than that, he didn't want anyone else to die on his part so he would start using his 'Slytherin' side more often. He would have to learn magic that normally wouldn't be taught at Hogwarts, even find a way to leave the Dursley's forever without alerting Dumbledore or the Order.
As far as the world was concerned, Harry was an average student with acceptable grades, save for Defense Against the Dark Arts. No one knew that Harry was as intelligent as his mother, Lily Potter, but kept his grades at an average level for obvious reasons. Truthfully, he was still afraid of reprisals from the Dursleys should they ever get a hold of his school marks from Hogwarts. Harry could still remember when he brought home his first muggle school marks, showing top scores on all subjects. Later that night, he received ten belt lashings and no food for two days for 'being smarter' than Dudley, who for his part failed all his subjects.
From that day forward, Harry had made sure to downplay his intelligence and keep his head down. Since the Dursley's were essentially still his guardians, Harry wasn't certain whether his abusive family was still receiving school reports from Hogwarts or not.
He had to grudgingly admit, though, that the Dursley's were only partially the reason for his average marks at Hogwarts. Harry also didn't want to alienate Ron by revealing his above average intelligence. The chance of estranging his friend and being alone and friendless once more was a prospect that Harry did not enjoy. He may not have liked the same subjects as Ron, but he certainly liked his friend's company, at least when the ginger boy wasn't being a jealous and insecure git.
There were times when he just wanted to strangle Ron whenever the Divinations teacher, Sybill Trelawney, predicted Harry's death - something that happened on a regular basis in class. Why he had picked Divinations was a constant question on his mind. Shaking his head, Harry could only guess that his abuse at the hands of the Dursleys was more profound than he cared to admit.
He would have to start making the right decisions if he were to survive the confrontations with Voldemort, confrontations which he was certain would happen, even if Ron flipped over his new course choices. For some reason, Voldemort had an unhealthy obsession with Harry, and today marked his fourth confrontation with the self-styled Dark Lord.
"...and please bring Albus to the Hospital wing," Pomfrey ordered, interrupting Harry's mental ramblings. With a pop, the house elf went to fetch Professor Dumbledore.
Harry almost jumped with a start, as he'd failed to notice the house elf, then gazed at Madam Pomfrey curiously.
"So what's the verdict, doc?" Harry drawled, futilely botching the American accent with a grimace.
For a second, the Matron lost her composure as she gaped at Harry then pointed at his chest where the wound was still bleeding profusely.
"I should think this is no laughing matter, Mr. Potter, as magical wounds have a way of resisting the best attempts to heal…your lightning scar is an obvious example," Pomfrey chastised.
"I have informed the Headmaster, and he will be here momentarily. While we wait, I'll try to heal that nasty cut, but if my suspicions are correct we may have a problem".
Pulling her wand out, Madam Pomfrey started casting various healing spells over Harry's chest while picking up a glass phial filled with a foul smelling potion and handed it to Harry. "Here, drink this, Harry, and lay back".
"Tegeo," Pomfrey incanted. The dried blood covering Harry's chest and around the wound cleared rapidly, leaving only angry red lattice wounds which almost immediately started flowing with more blood.
"Hmmm...Vulnera Sanentur."
"Reparifors."
"Vestigia Retrorsum."
With each spell, the lattice cuts would close then reopen with a vengeance. Madam Pomfrey's frown deepened by the minute and she glanced worriedly at Harry.
"Lenio," Madam Pomfrey whispered, in a strained voice. She glared at the wound and nodded as if confirming something.
Harry could feel the last spell working as it seemed to numb the sharp jagged pain, so he deduced the spell to be some pain-numbing charm.
With a start, the curtains around Harry's bed opened with a flourish and Professor Dumbledore came to a stop at the foot of Harry's bed. Harry's attention however was not on the aging headmaster, but rather on his best friend, Hermione, as she limped to Harry's side.
"Harry! I was so worried about you," Hermione wheezed. Harry looked at her properly for the first time since the fight and realized with guilt that he was the cause of Hermione's injury. The chestnut brown eyes, filled with pain, stared back at him; her hair was even bushier than normal, which Harry thought made Hermione all the more beautiful.
"Don't even think about it, it was not your fault!" Hermione said firmly.
"How—"
"I know you Harry, you're thinking all of this was your fault and if you had learnt Occlumency maybe none of this would happen".
Hermione gripped Harry's arm, forcing him to stare into her warm, brown eyes.
"Vol-Voldemort could have just as easily stormed into the Daily Prophet and ordered them to print a front page article on how Sirius was captured, and you still would have come and tried to save him all the same!" Hermione paused as she stared into a sea of deep emerald eyes.
"So what if he sent false images to you through your connection, you are not at fault – especially when Professor Snape method of teaching you Occlumency leaves much to be desired".
Harry exhaled sharply, looking down. "You're right, if I saw the paper I would have still come running recklessly to try to save Sirius…and I still would have gotten him killed".
"Harry—"
"No Hermione, this is on me," Harry interrupted her. "If I had checked the mirror before going to the Ministry I would have found out that Sirius was still safe and that this was all a rouse".
"But—"
"So why can't you heal me Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked grimly before Hermione could continue. He felt guilty when he saw the hurt in her eyes as she looked at him before he turned to the medi-witch. Harry sighed inwardly and rubbed his eyes. The raven-haired teenager just wanted to forget this day and fall unconscious to an ocean of dreams that would wash away the grief.
"Madam Pomfrey?" The Headmaster inquired.
"Well the problem is I have tried every healing spell I know, and not even the potions work on knitting the skin back together," Pomfrey replied in a strained voice.
The medi-witch had to restrain herself from admonishing Hermione from walking about in her present state after being cursed with dark laceration spell. She could see how close Harry and Hermione were, though, and reluctantly she kept an eye on Hermione for first sign her deep gash re-opening.
"This is without a doubt a magical wound which cannot be healed by normal means…and in most cases magical wounds can be purged with the use of a purging potion that removes trace amounts of any foreign magic that are preventing healing," Pomfrey stated.
"Unfortunately, the magic of the golden time sand has, for lack of better word, contaminated Harry's magical core and…well merged with it," Pomfrey said unhappily. "There is nothing I can do to remove the sand or the foreign magic. Even if I could, I wouldn't because we know so little about the effects or even the substance of time sand…not even the Unspeakables know much about it".
Madam Pomfrey grimaced as she continued.
"At this time there is no spell or potion that can close that wound, and while it is not a deep wound, I cannot stop your bleeding." She paused and glanced at Harry. "If I don't find a way to stop the bleeding, you will die from blood loss in a week".
"So cauterize the wound," Harry said simply.
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Potter. If the knitting spells that heal the skin don't work, then simply branding yourself with a hot iron poker will also not work," Pomfrey rebuked. "Might I remind you that those spells basically cauterize the wounds? This is a magical injury we are dealing with, perhaps even worse than your cursed scar."
Hermione gasped, her hands moved to cover her mouth.
"Well…sodden flying tits," Harry whispered.
Author's Note: Stay tuned for more...