The Dark Phoenix

Summery: Dark Lords are fearsome. They dabble in the arts and magic no one else dares to touch. What could be more terrifying then Voldemort, so set on cleansing the world of muggle-borns? That would be the new Dark Lord. More powerful then Voldemort. And this Dark Lord has powerful weapons. A friend of all beasts. He has no fear. He has no reason to care whether he lives or dies. All he has is betrayal and anguish. All he has is his thirst for revenge. All he has, is nothing. No fear, no care, no will to live, no name. Nothing: But the Dark Phoenix.

Chapter One: The Phoenix has Risen.

Warnings: Violence, Swearing (throughout whole story).

Harry Potter, though he no longer went by that name, sat in his library reading up on his thickest volume of the Dark Arts series. Dark Arts: The Art Behind It. It was quite fascinating, but some of the procedures required things he would never dream of doing, such as virgin sacrifices. He grinned maniacally. Who could be bothered finding a virgin? He chuckled at the thought and sipped down the last of his firewisky. Good year too.

Harry stretched and yawned, glancing at the clock above his fireplace. It was eleven-thirty at night but he'd had a strenuous day, maybe he'd turn in. The fire was crackling merrily and the warmth of it was almost palpable. It was lulling him into submission, something no one had been able to do for some time now, over a month in fact. Just over. Harry didn't hear the book slip from his lap and land on the hearthrug with a thump as he fell asleep.

Much had happened since the night Harry had vanquished the Dark Lord, effectively told Dumbledore to 'kiss his arse' and pretty much taken over the roll of bestowing fear into the hearts of those who had betrayed him. He had left that night, escaped from Hogwarts, leaving a dire warning behind. He would be back to take his revenge.

But right now he was quite happy allowing them to stew in fear. He knew extra wards had been put up around Hogwarts, even though Dumbledore refused to admit his 'golden boy' might attack him. He kept going on about some crap that Voldemort had sent Harry a vision before his death but Harry knew what he'd seen. And it sure hadn't been a vision.

So since then he had been holed up in the mansion he had purchased, Birch Hall, (although the auctioneer had insisted on cancelling the auction and giving it to him for half-price) quietly studying to use his magic to the total, rather powerful potential. It was amazing how much he was learning. He hadn't declared it to the world but when he had killed Voldemort, Harry's vortex of magic had seemed to pull Voldemort's magic from him and into Harry. Harry was only too happy to finally use it for his own ends.

In his last little speech to Dumbledore, Harry had told him that the lies had killed Harry Potter, that he was no longer Harry Potter, and that there would never be another Harry Potter. Since then someone had started a rumour, and he had become known by the pseudonym of The Dark Phoenix.

Barring the people who he had sworn his revenge on, the people who had been at Hogwarts while he had, the teachers, and the Death Eaters, the whole wizarding world had pledged their allegiance to him, many refusing to let their children go to Hogwarts, even after their letters came. They didn't follow him officially of course, for he would have to acknowledge himself as their leader for that to happen, but unofficially he had the biggest gathering of followers anyone had ever seen, purely because he was the most powerful wizard on the block now, evil or not. A few Death Eaters had even sworn themselves to him.

Harry had smiled grimly at that news. They would be the first to go when he finally attacked, after all, though pretty much everyone he had known had been in on it, they had been the ones who did the actual killing. Oh yes, they would be getting a large taste of the spells he had learned. He was particularly interested in the one that made people see anyone in the past they had harmed.

Harry had had no contact with the outside world, except for the Daily Prophet which was delivered daily. He had a bunch of plea-mail from Dumbledore which he had completely ignored, and various other letters from the appreciative wizarding public. They had gone onto the fire.

Then there were the letters from Ron and Hermione. Harry had taken great pleasure in doing what he had done to them. He had used a dark ritual which made the letters blow up when returned to the sender, effectively poisoning the area and people it came in contact with. Very few people knew how to reverse the effect. Severus had but…

'Teach them to kill the potions master,' he had snorted, sadness wrapping its silky cloak around him for a moment. Unfortunately it would seem that someone had known how to reverse it because he had not yet had the pleasant news of their demise delivered to him.

He had, at first, intended to destroy Dumbledore as soon as he was back at full power. A little later on though, he decided he rather enjoyed psychological torture. The sheer wait for an attack could be a damaging as the attack itself. Besides, the old man had certainly done his share of psychological torture to Harry.

Everyday he felt more and more prepared, but didn't care. He was ready, but for once this was going to be on his terms, no one else's! He enjoyed his isolation, it was a far cry from eleven years in a cupboard, here he was free to come and go as he pleased, with only a single house elf who cooked when Harry didn't feel like it and kept the place looking respectable. That house-elf was Dobby.

He had adopted Harry's nom de plume fast, ensuring he would not incur the man's wrath. Harry took swift vengeance on anyone who dared speak his name, or what he now claimed was not his name, but he had given everyone their fair chance, not killing anyone…yet. The warning period was thoroughly over.

Harry's most powerful following came in the shape of the creatures of the woods. They had seen what he had done with the Acromantula and the Dragons. Many of them had opted to allow him the knowledge of their language in return for small favours, helping heal a young one, or protection if they were an endangered species.

One of them had become especially attached in the past month and insisted on becoming Harry's pet, much to Hedwig's distress. His pet Demiguise. Harry found the whole concept hilarious. They were intensely shy and could make themselves invisible when threatened. Their pelts were often used to make invisibility cloaks. Harry had saved this one from hunters when it had been sick and delirious, unable to use its power. He had granted Harry the boon of the Demiguise language and pleaded for Harry to let him live with the young man.

That was how the graceful ape-like creature with his big doleful black eyes and fine, silky, silvery hair had wormed his way into Harry's heart. The beast had insisted on having a name as close to Harry's own as possible, The Dark Phoenix (or Phoenix as the few people he deigned to talk to ie. Dobby called him). So the gorgeous Demiguise had become known as Augurey, better known as the Irish Phoenix.

Harry sighed in his sleep and rolled over in his chair, one hand dropping to the floor as he slid most way out of the over-stuffed armchair. A most undignified pose for the next Dark Lord. A tiny bit of drool fell from the corner of his mouth and he twitched.

No matter how many spells and curses and potions he learned he had yet to find a cure for his nightmares, that was how powerful they were. Even with the Dreamless Sleep or Goodnight Dream potions, plus added tears, Harry couldn't banish them.

He twitched and turned again, sweat rolling in beads down his face.

"Home truths? Harry look around, see what 'home truths' Dumbledore has been keeping from you. Of course you're right about Severus, such an innocent wrapped up in all of this. Honestly, believing he could spy on me, by going to my partner!"

Voldemort continued to laugh, waving his hand at the barrier to put even more emphasis on the fact Harry should look. He didn't want to, he wanted to kill Voldemort, right then and there, but he knew that until he looked he couldn't. Some unforgivable pull made him stare out at what would no doubt be a morbid scene.

Dumbledore had the usual twinkle in his blue eyes, but the twinkle no longer seemed to be that of a kindly old grandfather, but one of malicious intent.

Harry moaned and struck out blindly at nothingness in the room. He whimpered, he didn't want to see it again. He didn't want to see it again.

"You fell for it, you got the vision and you still fell for it," he laughed. Turning his head to the sky to allow the full bellyful of laughter to be released to the heavens. "Voldemort is quite right, of course. Severus is completely innocent, just like the others who had to die."

"No," Harry whispered as realisation dawned on his face at the same time as Severus's. "NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Harry felt tremors rack his body and his whole soul was screaming at him to do something to save Severus, even though he knew it was too late. His body twisted and he fell from the chair onto the floor.

"Oh, but I already have, Harry," Dumbledore smirked, pointing his wand at Severus. "Good-bye Severus, you were such a help."

Severus barely had time to look outraged before a green light flashed and he collapsed to the ground, still.

"No! NO! NOOO!" Harry was screaming, he knew it as he threw himself up repetitively against the barrier, not caring the pain it brought upon him as he tried desperately to break through. "You fucking bastard! You fucking bastard scum!"

"FUCKING BASTARD!" Harry jerked awake, the scream still coming out of his mouth as his magic danced and pulsed around him. He was aware of many rare and valuable books being tossed throughout the room. He didn't care. The huge mirror that sat above the old fireplace had shattered and his foe glass looked close to it.

Slowly he pushed himself up off the ground before wiping a tear angrily away from his face and standing, his clothes straightening at a wave of his hand. Three more waves and the books were back in place, the mirror fixed and his glamour back in place. He wondered sometimes why he used glamour, just who was he trying to fool? Dobby? Augurey? HEDWIG?

Harry shook his head fiercely as a large ape-like creature came into the room with fare more grace then any ape had ever managed. He looked at Harry through his deep black eyes, curtained by a long silver forelock.

Phoenix? he asked softly. He was really a most intelligent creature.

'I'm fine, Augurey,' Harry reassured him He found it easier to communicate telepathically these days. All mammals had the ability, though not many chose to use it, as did house-elves, if that's what their master wished. Harry didn't think he'd spoken since the day he had protected Augurey from his hunters, shouting a few choice words at the abashed wizards before Apparating out.

You look it, the creature replied dryly. I'm flattered, but glamour or not I don't go for out-of-species relationships.

'Damn, thought I was wooing you quite well myself,' Harry smirked. The look soon fell from his face. 'Aug…do you…do you miss your friends? Family?'

The gentle beast stepped close to Harry and took the man's hand.

With you around? No. We aren't social creatures, Phoenix. Your company is most satisfying.

'Glad to hear it,' Harry sighed.

Time for something to eat I believe, Augurey suggested with a smile. Harry checked his watch and was shocked to see he had slept until the early hours of the morning. It was seven thirty a.m.

'Sure. DOBBY!'

"Yes Master Phoenix sir?" Dobby asked, appearing with a crack. Though he allowed Harry to speak to him telepathically, he chose to speak out loud to "keep the house alive", in his own words.

'Could you rustle up some breakfast please? And yes, you will be joining us.'

"Very well, Master Phoenix."

Harry sighed. It had been a tiring process to get the house elf to agree to sitting at the dinner table, and then eating. There were a lot of arguments usually consisting of,

"'Tis not right sir, 'tis too much for a house elf."

'I order you to sit and eat.'

"Yes sir."

Finally Harry had threatened sending Dobby back to Hogwarts. Now Dobby ate every meal with him and Augurey. Not wanting to leave her out, Harry had made Hedwig a small stand for the table so she could eat out of her dish while they ate. He had been disappointed to learn he would not be able to talk to her because human mouths just couldn't make the same shape as owl beaks and thus could not produce the same sounds. Although he and Hedwig had always been able to communicate very well without words.

Do you plan on going to the hall anytime soon? asked Augurey dryly as Harry made no further move towards the door. He was worried about the young man. He had been down and depressed since he had arrived, it was to be expected of course, for Augurey had heard the sad tale of his friends' betrayal, but it was getting to the point where the warrior wouldn't eat for days on ends, often only doing so because Augurey or Dobby would threaten to starve themselves for as long as he did.

Harry walked down to Birch Hall's Great Hall slowly, aware of Augurey loping slowly beside him as he was wrapped up in his own thoughts. He flicked a hand up to his eyes as he often did, almost feeling naked without his glasses, despite the fact they had been gone for almost three weeks. After losing them in his first attempt to kill Voldemort in his sixth year, Harry had been rendered almost completely helpless, he didn't like the feeling and didn't want to let it happen again. It hadn't taken long to find the ritual for eternal blindness in Dark Arts: The one that'll last forever. Once he'd done that, it took Harry several practices and tests before he successfully reversed the spell and wished for the best and applied it to his eyes. It had worked, marvellously at that. He had shed his glasses, though they were safe in his bedside table in his room upstairs, they had been given to him by Severus, and he would not throw them away, ever.

Harry sighed and pushed open the great doors in front of him to reveal a huge oak table in the middle of the hall. It almost ran the full length of the room and occasionally, just occasionally, Harry felt lonely when he perched in his spot at the very end of the huge table. The place seemed too…desolate sometimes. He fancied he could still hear the balls that would have taken place when the previous owners had lived here, over a century ago, the laughter and clatter of a hundred plates at the dinner parties, the soft whispers of lovers as they sat out on the balcony in the moonlight.

Growling at himself for his own inanity and wistfulness for things he couldn't have, Harry slumped down into his chair and observed the massive breakfast Dobby had set out. Chicken, every soup imaginable, salads of all kinds, cottage pie, sausages, steak, beef, turkey, carrots, peas, mashed and in-the-jacket potatoes, pumpkin, pasties and pies, toast (thankfully) and so many other things that Harry felt sick at the thought of eating so much just looking at it. He had long since given up on telling Dobby to make a 'small' meal.

Harry placed a slice of toast onto his plate with a little salad and left it at that. He really wasn't hungry but didn't feel like getting into a fight that day.

"Master Phoenix got mail today," Dobby squeaked, scuttling forward with a bow before placing two letters and the Daily Prophet on the table beside Harry's plate, with a frown at how little the man was eating.

'Thank-you, Dobby,' Harry acknowledge gratefully. He glanced at the first letter, bloody Dumbledore again. He was going to have to strike somewhere soon, just to let the old man know he was serious. He threw the letter to the floor where it disappeared to land on the pile in the library. The second letter was written in handwriting unknown but said 'To Our Saviour Harry Potter'. An idea formed in his mind as he stared at the words 'Harry Potter'. Well…he smirked, they'd had fair warning.

He looked at the address on the back of the envelope, a return one even though it wasn't necessary with owls. Perfect. Tomorrow he would pay…Reberta Williams a visit. She wouldn't come out unscathed, indeed, she might not come out alive.

Harry ate slowly, unfolding the Daily Prophet as he did so, his mind whirling at just which curses he planned to use to make the world remember Harry Potter, even his mind spat the name, did not exist any more.

He pushed his spoonful of peas into his mouth, and practically down his throat to force himself to eat it. This act of forcing himself to swallow was almost his death as he saw the front page of the paper.

"Is Master Phoenix alright?" Dobby asked, jumping up from his own meagre plateful of food to bang Harry enthusiastically on the back as the man's mouth fell open as his eyes turned into huge emerald saucers.

'No…it…it can't be…' he stammered, before collapsing heavily on the seat beside him. His breathing was harsh as he closed his eyes firmly. He didn't want to look at the paper again, couldn't go through that pain. He was shivering, every tremor racking his body as though he was on a massaging chair. He felt a deadly pain slice through his scar, as it did now when he was in extreme distress. Harry heard the screams and he realised it was him, one hand clasped firmly over his forehead.

Cold ran through his hair and down his back and he felt the pain in his head ebbing away slightly, but the shivering simply increased. He realised with a start that Dobby had just poured a bucket of icy water over his head. The house-elf in question and Augurey were currently standing on the table, peering down at him in worry. Shaking himself, Harry sat up and made a grab for the prophet again. He re-read the headline, taking a deep breath to calm himself. It definitely said it. And there was a picture, proof. So Harry took a deep breath and said the only thing he had in a month.

"Fuck…" He made a movement of his hand and the next moment the biggest bottle of Krondorf he could summon was in his reach. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, Harry took a huge gulp of the smooth alcohol and steadied his nerves. With a little more confidence he lifted up the paper again and began to read.

Severus Snape – Spy – Slumbers On

Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, also war hero and spy on Lord Voldemort, has, a month after the end of the Great War, taken a turn for the worse. The Hogwarts Professor has been in a coma since the battle, yet to wake up, and at approximately 2:24 this morning, began to become completely non-responsive to medical treatments. An antidote to the curse that hit him has yet to be found.

"Unfortunately Severus' condition began to deteriorate this morning," says school medi-witch Poppy Pomfrey. "He's slipping away and unless the antidote to whatever hit him is found his vital organs are going to shut down. As it is he needs constant attention and regular heart strengthening spells."

When Professor Dumbledore, order of Merlin first class, was asked what he thought about the potion professor's condition his reply was disconcerting.

"Death is but the next great adventure, I'm sure Severus will make the right choice."

Harry had read enough, glaring at the paper, wanting to kill Dumbledore. He couldn't believe it, it didn't make any goddamn sense! How could Severus be alive? Harry had seen Dumbledore kill the man. He had seen Dumbledore use Avada Kedavra and he had seen his Professor and friend fall. It seemed, by some miracle, that Severus had survived. It wasn't impossible, Harry had proven that, but Dumbledore had sent the spell. Now the bastard had as good as said Severus should choose to die or his life would be forfeit! Oh yes, Harry had learned to read between Dumbledore's manipulative lines very easily.

Then again the whole thing could be a scam, a scam which Dumbledore had set up to cover his own sorry hide. That would make sense. Harry decided, scanning the article again. Yes, that would be it. All some manipulative farce. Could he risk it though? Harry peered at the article dubiously. Damn, he couldn't just hope that it was a farce, what if it wasn't? Then Dumbledore would make sure Severus was dead before the week was out!

Well Harry was damned it he was going to let that happen! He stood and allowed himself to take his weight on his arms as he tried to stop the trembling in his body, leaning against the table. He was worried that he might have gone into some state of mild shock but shook the feeling off immediately. With a wave of his hand he summoned his firebolt millennium (he still had his firebolt from Sirius of course, this was just better for long journeys) and straddled it.

Don't do anything stupid, commanded Augurey sternly, apparently knowing just what Harry was about to do. Do not hurt anyone while you are angry, you know you'll regret it.

'When am I not angry any more Aug?' demanded Harry sarcastically, but he had to admit that at the moment weariness, not fury, laced the words.

Just don't do any lasting damage then, Augurey smirked wryly. Harry sighed and shook his head, climbing aboard his broom and settling into place. You're not thinking straight.

'Don't be stupid, of course I am,' snapped Harry.

Really? Then why are you wasting time with a broom when you know full well you are capable of apperating, inside Hogwarts' wards no less? Augurey pointed out wisely. Harry smacked himself in the head, then winced.

'Merlin I'm thick,' he growled, placing his broom on the table. 'I won't be long.'

Harry rolled his eyes in his own stupidity as he limped to an empty area in the room and nodded gravely to Augurey, Dobby and Hedwig before disappearing with a loud bang.

Harry apparated into the corridor outside the Hospital Wing, having no intention of accidentally landing on top of a patient and giving himself the look of a clumsy seventh year, which by all respects he should be. He straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair. Putting on his most intimidating face he swept into the Infirmary.

There was still a huge cluster of people in there, most around Severus's bed and three Hufflepuff's around a classmate's bed. 'Obviously,' Harry thought in disgust, 'the little rats want to know him now he's a fucking war hero.' It was the before breakfast visitors.

He was very satisfied with the reaction he got as they turned slowly and realised who stood in the doorway, looking the very picture of furious and very powerful evil. Harry was glad he had dressed well that day, instead of spending the whole day in his pyjamas.

Though he had no cloak or robes there was no mistaking it was him, his scar very visible from his freshly cut hair. He had no fringe, most of his inky black hair stood almost straight up, and cropped down to about two centre metres long. His face had filled out a little, every feature honed and chiselled. His emerald eyes were flashing danger under his thick black eyebrows, their colour even brighter when not hidden behind glasses.

Harry had opted to wear muggle clothing as often as possible, he found robes could be a little stifling but today his outfit had not consisted of a shirt and jeans, or a T-shirt and cargo pants. Today he was wearing a smart white shirt, casually buttoned up to the second last top hole, the collar neat but not stiff. His jacket and pants were jet black and fitted his rugged, well-filled out figure magnificently. For some reason he couldn't fathom, though he was glad he had, Harry had also placed a black tie loosely around his neck. The whole outfit made him look powerful, but nonchalantly so, something that made power seem even more frightening.

Dumbledore had been sitting quietly in the corner next to Severus's bed, allowing his students to take in Harry without speaking, though wondering mildly how Harry was here and yet he had not felt him enter through the wards. Finally, deciding the children had had long enough to gawp, he stood.

His eyes met Harry's, clashing hostility and deadly promise still lay in their emerald depths, even a month after he had last seen the young man. The old man had been sure Harry wouldn't do anything about the warning he had issued, believing it to have come out on the spur of the moment, but now…he was worried to admit he wasn't so sure.

"Harry, how nice to se…"

"YOU WILL NOT ADDRESS ME BY THAT NAME!" Harry roared, his voice hoarse and ragged from not talking for so long, scaring the people in the Infirmary out of their wits. Harry's face was contorted into furious lines. "You killed that person a long time ago. He no longer exists! You will not speak his name!"

Dumbledore clawed suddenly at his throat, his old eyes wide in the kind of shock no one in the room had seen before. He looked like he was choking on some invisible force. The students looked to Harry who had his hands crossed calmly across his chest as Dumbledore rose a metre from the floor before finally grasping his wand and breaking the curse. Harry raised an eyebrow to signify it had taken a rather long time.

Dumbledore gasped a little and rubbed his throat, staring at his ex-pupil in horror and worry. What Harry had just done was a curse no Hogwarts student would ever learn. Harry was currently sporting a cocky-grin.

"Ready to listen for once, Dumbledore?" he sniggered. "Fascinating. I see your power is waning the older you get, although the fact that you couldn't even kill Severus seems to makes that point mute. Although I see you have managed to make his sudden decline in health look like an accident…"

Harry trailed off, vehemence ablaze in his eyes and face once more. The students had wisely moved to the sides of the room, obviously not so sure that their headmaster would be able to protect them any more.

"Er…Phoen…" Dumbledore began, hesitant for the first time in a long time. Harry gave another cocky winning smile.

"I don't think so, Dumbledore. No more lies," Harry smiled softly, his voice lethal. He strode forth to Severus's beside and waved a hand from the top of Severus's head to his toes and suddenly a deep red shield covered the Professor completely. Harry threw a spell at the shield and nodded in satisfaction as it bounced off. The room looked terrified. The spell had been green. "I wouldn't touch it if I were you," the powerful wizard smirked as a student came closer. "I will be back momentarily for my charge."

Then, right in front of the headmaster and students who had never seen such a thing ever done before, Harry disapperated within the wards of Hogwarts…

Harry reappeared a second later in Professor Snape's rooms. He snickered at the fact the wards on these rooms were tougher to get through then the ones around Hogwarts. His eyes paused as he scanned the room on a clock above the mantelpiece. He frowned. It was screaming out the time at him but there was something else. He could see a flicker of magic around it. He probed gently and the enchantment shimmered a little and fell.

Harry gaped at the clock that was revealed. Much like the Weasley's but with more places and emotions for people to be feeling. He also noted that the clock's hands had the useful ability to split in two or three or more if the case arose where more then one label was applicable. Very handy.

Cocking his head to the side, Harry was shocked to see he was on the clock. His hands were currently on breaking rules, not thinking straight and home. He snorted. He was thinking straight and he sure as hell wasn't home. Obviously this clock needed to be updated. But as he turned away he couldn't help the niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Severus's hand resting firmly on Mortal Peril.

He walked straight into Severus's private potions lab and began to gather as many potions as possible, placing them carefully in a large bag, lined with vial holders. He knew shrinking potions, even just for transportation, made them lose several of their main properties, severely weakening them if he was lucky, reversing their effects if he wasn't. He scanned the room, searching for anything more he could use, grabbing a vial of an unmarked substance absent-mindedly and apperated back to the hospital wing, now sure enough to apparate right beside Severus.

This time the awe of the students was tiring fast. It reminded him too much of his time in this godforsaken school.

"I am afraid, Phoenix, that I cannot allow you to take Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Harry raised an eyebrow, glad that Dumbledore thought he was enough of a threat not to call him Harry. 'Not your golden boy any more, am I?' he thought rather savagely.

"I'm afraid, Dumbledore, that you can't do anything to stop me," Harry retorted, not fazed in the slightest. "You see I am not about to let Severus die, and prior to popular belief, you have no power over me."

"Harry…" Dumbledore began instinctively.

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" Harry bellowed, his face twisted in uncontrollable wrath. "Incendia everto!" he added while pointing at Dumbledore. The man looked ill for a moment and leaned forward like he was going to throw up. When he finally had to open his mouth it was in anguish as a fire demon leapt out, jumping into his robes, clearly scalding the material and burning the headmaster. A second and a third made it out before Dumbledore worked out a counter-curse.

Harry watched all this in pure amusement.

"Interesting isn't it?" he asked in mild tones. "And today I was being nice, Dumbledore. I will warn you now, a member of the public who is particularly stupid is going to get a visit tomorrow, and they will not be as lucky as you."

Harry spat on the floor at the headmaster's feet before removing the shield above Severus with a twitch of his finger and grasped the man firmly by the hand.

"Vengeance is sweet, Dumbledore. And it's always a bit sweeter with a touch of pain, don't you agree?" Harry smiled sweetly, his white teeth flashing in furious contrast to his stormy green eyes. Then he disappeared with a loud crack, once more manipulating the wards of the castle.

Harry stumbled slightly when he reappeared in Birch Hall. He wasn't weak and his magic had barely been touched that day but his whole body was shivering from the effort it had taken to keep control and not kill Dumbledore right then and there, on top of realising that a man he would have sworn under Veritiserum he had seen being killed was alive, albeit sick, and apperating and dissaperating against some very strong wards he was feeling rather tired.

'Dobby,' he began to the house-elf who was already beside him with Augurey. 'Prepare a guest room, the most comfortable one. Make sure it is completely clean, sterile and ready for a sick patient. I want all of the labelled potions here put on shelves directly beside the bed and the unlabelled one in my lab downstairs.'

"Dobby would be happy to, Master Phoenix," the house-elf complied with a bow. He clicked his fingers and disappeared.

How did it go? Augurey asked dryly, apparently guessing by Harry's state. The man glared at him.

'I really need a drink,' Harry complained, rubbing his throat. The yelling had made him hoarse. Augurey shook his head in amusement and started to bring a thought to his mind, 'Don't say it!' Harry snapped.

Wasn't gunna, Augurey laughed as his young friend stalked off to the kitchens to get a glass of water, followed by something significantly stronger.

A/N: Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers! You all mean so much to me. As you can see, Snarry just can't happen with Severus. But you'll have to wait to discover how he didn't die in the first place and how he goes now. Feedback on this story is really important to me since I'm experimenting with a few ideas I've never seen implemented before which can be dangerous. Please give me your opinions.

Next Posting (Probably next week): The fight for Severus' life begins – can Harry do the impossible? In Chapter Two: Yet to be titled.