Title: Afraid to Live
Author: SassySarcasm
Rating: T
Pairings: None as of yet
Warnings: Mentions of death, dark themes
Summary: In a world where Harry died as an Infant, the Order summons someone to kill off Voldemort. Unfortunately, the person they summon is angry enough that they join their enemy to spite them.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: So this is going to be very AU, about an alternate dimension that calls for a savior from ANOTHER AU, not our canon harry potter. The differences will become clear, and figuring it out is half the fun right? For now at least its just a one-shot, I might later turn it into a story. ENJOY! (:
-0-0-0-
I often think that we are like the carp swimming contentedly in that pond. We live out our lives in our own "pond," confident that our universe consists of only the familiar and the visible. We smugly refuse to admit that parallel universes or dimensions can exist next to ours, just beyond our grasp. If our scientists invent concepts like forces, it is only because they cannot visualize the invisible vibrations that fill the empty space around us. Some scientists sneer at the mention of higher dimensions because they cannot be conveniently measured in the laboratory.
- Michio Kaku
-0-0-0-
Peace. The word could mean many things to many different people. For some it was when everything was good, no wars were going on and such. For others it was brief respites when they can rest. Neither lasts.
For the figure hunched over, retching, it was a nonexistent entity, something that was idea only and thus intangible. They didn't have much use for such intangibilities.
The area around them was quiet, too quiet. There were no signs of life, the plants around them were dead and no animals could be heard. The air was filled with smoke and gases that couldn't be seen.
At least the figure thought cynically, being the last means I am no longer being chased. The moment of brief clarity and thought was interrupted by a hacking cough. Even they, with their natural healing and resistance could not hold out much longer.
Noting the irony of the situation (after all the things they had been through to be killed by radiation poisoning was rather anticlimactic) they snorted. As if to make things worse the radiation had been brought about by none other than the people their society had once thought of as oblivious, idiotic and blind to their own world.
Of course, the muggles had also doomed themselves but that just made everything even more poetic didn't it?
The figure struggled to step forward; if they could make it underground away from this air then just maybe they could survive. It was better than giving up.
But as they stepped forward, their banged up boots got caught on a loose stone sending them spilling onto the ground.
Only they never hit. Instead there was this horrible, stronger than ever felt before, tug on their navel and they were gone. Vanished just as the world they left reached its last hour.
Right before they vanished the figure had one last thought, one they latter would wish to have been a bit more significant.
Damn, another fall. What does one have to do to keep from tripping over oneself? Maybe Tonks' cursed me….
-0-0-0-0-
"Good Evening All," Dumbledore intoned, relishing in the instant silence that followed. They were all used to doing such having been trained into it at school. It was ingrained into them to fall silent when Albus Dumbledore stood before them.
The Order of the Phoenix was currently a very small group and looked very worried about something. But they all regarded the grandfatherly figure with hope and reverence. It would have been clear to an outsider that they all believed this man could fix what they were worried about.
"I trust everyone arrived safely?" He asked, noting the nods and smiles he received in response. He knew from experience that the small things and niceties would help to put them at ease.
"You all know why we are here, Voldemort has returned."
Immediately following the statement many things happened. Most gasped or flinched in some way. Some of the braver souls, or the more fool hardy, nodded with determined expressions.
A nervous looking witch, whose hair had just flashed white, raised her hand in the air. "Are you sure?" she asked tentatively, "Us Aurors are being told it was just some of his old followers, perhaps someone thinking they can replace him." She continued growing bolder as she went on, ignoring the glares a group red heads shot her way, "It makes more sense than him coming back from the dead."
Dumbledore smiled, looking down at her over his half-moon spectacles, "Nymphadora, my dear, your superiors are ill informed. As you said it doesn't make sense and it is easier to believe that makes it impossible. But in our world of magic, is anything really impossible?"
Murmurs of agreement followed his statement. Nymphadora Tonks, whose hair had turned fire red in her anger, still looked as if she was going to argue. She was quelled only when her mentor, Alastor Moody, laid a hand on her shoulder.
If it wasn't for his close friendship with the leader, Albus Dumbledore, and her trust in him (Moody not Dumbledore) she wouldn't have been there.
A boy sitting towards the front, Neville Longbottom, shook under his Grandmother's gaze. He knew she expected him to stand and refute all claims that Voldemort wasn't really back but he couldn't and wouldn't.
It wasn't that he was denying the Dark Lords return, but what right did he have to speak in front of these people? Most of who had fought against him in the first war? For all that he was considered the world's Savior of Prophecy, he was scared.
He was scared of the war, of their expectations of him. Most especially he was scared of the idea of him killing. He wasn't a killer! His best friend, Hermione Granger had often told him he was the gentlest person she'd ever met.
It was true! He couldn't bear to kill even insects or trample plants. How then could he take a life? No matter whose; no matter what sin they may have committed? Did he have the right to play god and decide who to kill?
But not even that would not be granted to him, he had already been told who he'd be expected to kill. Deatheaters. Dark witches and wizards supporting them. Dark creatures. Voldemort. And anyone who stood in his way.
He wouldn't even get the luxury of choosing who to kill, or who to spare.
He couldn't do it. He'd told Dumbledore such, and the old man had smiled at him his eyes twinkling and assured him he'd take care of it. That, strangely, had left Neville more unsettled than before
"So now that we all agree that the Lord Voldemort had indeed returned, can we move on to this meeting's purpose?" Dumbledore's question broke through Neville's reverie and brought the realization that he had missed at least part of the argument.
The silence that reigned in place of the previous murmurs and whispered conversation was answer enough.
"Now, through research and time, I and some of my fellow teachers," here he nodded to where Snape and McGonagall were sitting to his right, "have come up with a solution that will allow for minimum deaths."
If anyone's attention had been wavering before, that declaration swiftly grabbed it back and brought them to listen intently.
"What is it?" some particularly bold or foolish person from the back called out. No one was surprised when Snape sneered at the Gryffindor response, even though he too could not make out who had voiced it.
Dumbledore didn't seem bothered by the question, "A ritual to summon someone who has already defeated Voldemort from another dimension."
If his previous statements that night had brought silence, this one brought something worse. Deafening silence, the kind where people even cease to think.
Inordinately pleased with their response Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him, letting a rarely shown smirk grow on his face. Everything was going according to plan.
He personally thought this idea was rather ingenious, by calling someone who had been through this all before they could avoid unnecessary deaths. This someone would know what had gone wrong before and prevent it this time.
Not to mention that they were hopefully a better fighter than the Longbottom boy. He tried, but he really just didn't cut it. He wasn't a fighter, and no amount of training would change that.
Dumbledore thought it was a pity, thanks to the boy's Grandmother he would have been a very malleable savior.
Deciding that he had left them to mull it over long enough Dumbledore waved his hand, catching everyone attention as chairs (With people in them) floated into the air, startling their occupants, and moved to line up against the walls.
The reasoning behind this show of impressive magic soon became clear.
On the floor where the chairs had been resting was a rune circle. The people who put it together the quickest jumped to their feet, particularly the oldest Weasley son.
Bill strode forward and knelt by the circle, catching the attention of everyone as he examined it. He was well known as a genius curse breaker; even the goblins grudgingly admitted that he was good. Coming from them that was like saying he was a prodigy.
He looked up at Dumbledore who had too moved to stand by the circle, "This is complex magic, and riddled with loop holes Albus." He reported, giving the headmaster none of the respect his parents always had.
Instead he stood up and met Dumbledore's gaze evenly, "This is too general," he continued waving at the circle, "It will pull anyone who has managed to defeat Voldemort from their dimension. You don't know what state they'll be coming in. What if they're old? Irreversibly injured?"
Dumbledore waved away his worries, "Trust me dear boy, none of the will happen." The confident headmaster smiled at the man, expecting him to back down. He had given his assurances after all.
But it seemed tonight was full of surprises as this man, like Tonks before him, didn't back down.
Bill snorted, brushing his flaming hair out of his face, a finger momentarily catching on his fang earing. "If not that, what about you're supposed champion's choices? You would effectively be kidnapping them, bringing them to our world without so much as a 'by your leave'."
This too, Dumbledore waved aside. "Do not worry so much, young Weasley. Anyone who has defeated Voldemort before and knows the horrors he can cause will be only too happy to do so again."
Bill seemed incredulous at first, before turning furious. He had recently come back from Egypt and had, as such spent years outside Dumbledore's influence. It was only now, that he was back and had almost an onlooker's perspective that he realized how much these people relied on the headmaster.
They were sheep, who listened to whatever he told them as if it was scripture. Only Tonks, who was in fact one of Charlie's old school friends, had seemed rebellious. And if left with group for long that would probably die out too.
It was horrifying to the young man, who valued his freedom and independence more than anything.
So it was with this in mind that he stepped forward, coming between Dumbledore and the circle as the man was forced to step back. "I won't let you."
This meeting seemed to be filled with tense silences, and this wasn't any different. For a moment it was if everything stopped, people surprised by the man's declaration. Some even seemed to begin to doubt Dumbledore in the face of Bill's well-argued opposition.
Dumbledore couldn't let that continue. He searched out Arthur Weasley's eyes and met them. "Restrain him, please. He is only doing what he thinks is right but this must be done."
Speech broke out and Tonks seemed to be once again ready to speak out when Arthur Weasley moved forward grabbing one of his son's arms. His youngest son, Ron Weasley, followed suit and grabbed Bill's other arm. Their actions stunned all the others into passiveness.
After all if his only family were restraining him, what could they really do?
Together they managed to drag him out of the way, mostly because of how surprised Bill was. And then they were only to hold on to him because Bill didn't really want to hurt them.
But as Dumbledore approached the circle again, clearly about to begin the ritual he began to struggle. Family be damned, his moral code wouldn't let him let this happen.
It seemed though, that Arthur and Ron were a lot stronger they looked and since the Weasley head of clan had grabbed his son's wand before he had even realized his father had grabbed him the curse breaker had no way to break away.
That didn't stop Bill from trying and he struggled hoping to catch one of them off guard. Neither of them would quite meet his eyes but they still managed, with some difficulty, to hold him. He stopped struggling, going limp in their grip, only when he heard Dumbledore begin to chant.
From there Bill knew it was futile. The headmaster had already begun the ritual and to stop it now would be disastrous and have far reaching consequences.
The group of Order members, who had been silently watching the events unfolding, watched with bated breath as Dumbledore chanted in a tongue no one recognized.
It soon became clear something was happening when the runes forming the circle began to glow, first white then blue until finally emerald green where it stayed. Next, some of the symbols began to move in the circle, shifting on the floor.
As everyone watched with growing awe, an impossible wind picked up with the runes seemingly leaving the floor to whirl around in a semblance of a tornado. To witches and wizards who were used to pointing wands and just having things happen, this show of ritual magic was amazing and awe-inspiring.
Finally the wind picked up to the point that with the runes moving with in it, that no one could see the area that had once been the rune circle.
And then just as suddenly there was a loud bang and wind was gone as if it was never there. The runes that everyone would swear had come to life and flown through the air were back on the floor. But something had changed in the otherwise identical room.
There was a figure now sprawled on the floor.
-0-0-0-0-
The room watched warily as the figure stirred, quieting the hushed conversation of speculation that had popped up.
The figure too, seemed on edge as they made their way to their feet. Their stance was relaxed but anyone who knew fighting could see the tenseness in their muscles and how their hands were twitching, presumably with the urge to pull a weapon.
The androgynous figure was dressed in all black clothing, with pants that were fairly tight but with a shirt that was baggy enough to make discerning their sex impossible. They DID have long black hair that was tied loosely over one shoulder, which could have indicated female.
However, as exampled by Bill, long hair did not mean female.
What caught most people's attention was their bright green eyes that were eerily similar to the color the runes had glowed.
Those same eyes scanned the room, pausing on some people until they landed on Bill.
Green eyes met his own blue, and he straightened in his family's grip and tried to convey to the summoned person that he hadn't wanted this, that he'd fought this. For some reason it seemed very important.
Judging from the brief nod he received from the figure they, at the very least, understood.
"What am I doing here?" The still unknown figure asked, speaking with a remarkably mild voice for their current situation.
Dumbledore stepped forward, smiling triumphantly, "I summoned you. Voldemort is back and we need your help."
The figure said nothing but scanned the room again, seemingly searching for something or someone. They did not find it, at least if their frown meant anything.
"You have no savior? No plan? No Chosen one?" they asked sounding surprised.
Some in the room glanced at the previously unacknowledged Neville Longbottom who was still only a sixth year. Though the term 'Chosen one' confused them, Neville had been called many things but never that.
Dumbledore didn't even look at Neville, "Not in the way you are thinking. This is why we called you; you who have already beaten your Voldemort and should be able to easily do so again."
The figure raised a thin eyebrow, already breathing easier now that they were away from the poisonous air. That at least they were thankful for. But they were still largely angry; they had been called here for something like this?
They were reminded of an all too familiar time when they had been a pawn, lead around by the nose, never knowing what was going on till they figured it out for themselves.
"Ah, you want me to play hero." The figure stated more than asked.
Dumbledore frowned.
"No, not quite. No one must know we called you here to do this. All the credit will go to Neville." He announced gesturing towards the half-cowering boy, "He is after all our Child-of-Prophecy."
The figure nodded, not seeming phased. Green eyes once again landed on Bill, "Why is he being restrained?"
Dumbledore nodded at the Weasleys restraining Bill who instantly released him, causing him to stumble forward.
The figure caught him as he stumbled forward bumping into their chest, blue eyes going wide.
"He was foolishly trying to stop your summoning." Dumbledore told the figure with a patronizing smile.
The figure it seemed did not appreciate this as Bill felt them stiffen from where he was still pressed against the figure.
"Oh? Did he?" the figure murmured, fluidly stepping in front of Bill almost protectively.
Bill was not the only surprised by this turn of events. He had expected whoever they called to be less than happy to be there, but he hadn't expected to be singled out.
They didn't seem concerned though, as they finally drew their wand.
Dumbledore's eyes widened as he recognized it.
"What's your name? Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded, quickly becoming unnerved. He had expected a Gryffindor type, instead they seemed to be much more Slytherin than he would have liked.
It seemed they were the real deal, however, as they were holding the Elder Wand.
"My name? Harry Potter. Who am I? Most certainly not your tool to be used to defeat Voldie."
With that surprising response they moved their wand, not even needing to speak as they cast a series of spells. Everyone in the room was made immobile, except to his own surprise, Bill.
Bill looked around at everyone who appeared frozen.
"You can come with me if you wish?" The figure asked, reminding him he wasn't the only one who could still move.
Bill looked up to see that the figure had already moved to the door and was watching him with a calculating expression.
"Where are we going?" he asked finally, intentionally using 'we'.
Even though he had tried to stop this person from being dragged here, it was somewhat his fault it happened. He owed them and would follow them as his honor demanded. Plus they interested him.
Green eyes turned amused and their lips twitched into a grin.
"Why to visit Voldemort, of course. I think my goals will line up with his much more nicely."
Bill stared. "How? You killed him once, surely you hate him?" he asked, genuinely curious.
The figure shrugged, "That was a long time ago. And anyway back in my world… let's just say the Muggles had pretty much destroyed it. With Voldemort I may be able to stop that from happening here."
It made a scary kind of sense. If he had just came from a world that the muggles had destroyed he would be angry, he would want to prevent it happening if he could. And who better to help him than Voldemort whose followers would need no encouragement in taking out muggles?
"I'll come." He told them decisively, not looking at his family. After tonight they were no longer family to him. He counted it as a small blessing that Charlie and the twins hadn't been there. He liked to think they would have supported him but who knew? He had, after all, expected his father and Ron to support him.
The figure didn't seem to be surprised with his answer, only nodding and turning to walk out of the great hall of Hogwarts, where the meeting had been held.
Bill followed quickly as they began the trek to the gates where they could apparate away.
Finally Bill got up all his Gryffindor courage to ask a question that had been bothering him. "You're a girl?"
The figure stumbled a bit, "Found out so soon?" she questioned sounding amused; "Yes I'm a girl."
Bill frowned thoughtfully, "The Harry Potter of this world was a boy, though he died as a child along with his parents." He informed her cautiously.
She shrugged, "I've always gone as Harry, it's actually short for Harriett, and well, sometimes it's useful to be mistaken for a boy."
He could only nod, there would be certain advantages.
The girl, woman really, considering that she had to be at least Bill's age, smiled humorously at him. "Funnily enough when I dress as a girl I'm called 'handsome' and when I dress as a girl I'm often told I'm 'feminine' for a boy." She told him, clearly amused by the paradox of it.
Bill could only nod.
It seemed that in place of the savior Dumbledore had planned to bring he had instead someone who was far more likely to join Voldemort than kill him.
If that wasn't poetic justice Bill didn't know what was.
"Come Bill, we have mayhem to cause" Harry called over her shoulder, as she moved forward.
Bill followed obediently, somehow not at all surprised that she knew his name though no one had spoken it since she arrived.
-0-0-0-0-
A/N: This was a spur of the moment plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. I might one day turn it into a more lengthy story, but for now it's a one shot. I wanted to explore the idea of a less than helpful savior pulled from their world lol. The whole Bill thing pretty much wrote itself, it wasn't really planned lol :/ ANYWAY i'm a fairly new writer, and feedback would be much appreciated.
NOTE: edited for grammar mistakes 1/8/2012