Summary: It is the year 2002. Britain has been left for death, and hope has forsaken the war-ravaged land. Captured, with death only moments away, the Order reaches out for one last option – More time. Harry joins the team, rewriting destiny forever. Sakura/Syaoran. No other pairings.
Warnings: Foul language, slight gore.
Rewritten version of EtF, edited 14/12/2011
CHAPTER 1 – The World as We Knew It
April 12, 1998
Number 12, Grimmauld Place
Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix
"This will be our last plan. Our last resort to save this world from Voldemort,"Dumbledore announced grimly to the assembled group of his most trusted - consisting of Remus, Tonks, Minerva, Sirius and Harry.
"Is that really necessary, Albus?" Minerva asked worriedly, an unpleasant feeling uncoiling within her at the mere thought of what things would be like if they had to use the plan.
Dumbledore kept quiet for a while, and the rest stayed silent, wrapped up in their grim thoughts of war. Many Order members were already dead, the most recent death being Mad-eye's.
"I'm afraid it just might, Minerva," the aged wizard broke the tense silence, "Just...as a last resort. But it has a low possibility of working. It is only to be our very last resort, if all else fails and there is no hope anymore."
"There's already no hope," Harry said harshly. "Who is still hoping? Who doesn't think they'll die? Who is ready to bring a child to this damned world?"
Tonks choked, her hand resting on her swollen stomach. Remus wrapped a comforting arm around her waist, but even then he looked regretful. For a moment no one dared speak, all stunned by the reality of their situation.
"We have to fight against the muggles and then against Voldemort for killing muggles. What the fuck are we doing?" Harry hissed out, close to losing his temper. His voice had been growing louder and louder throughout his speech, but then suddenly he stopped.
"More time? Why can't we just wish for Voldemort to never exist, for this war to stop entirely?"
"Hermione, dodge!" Harry screamed, even as he threw a vicious curse at the Death Eater behind her. The bushy haired witch instinctively threw herself down, but it was too late. The upper half of her body was blasted out in a shower of blood and gore.
"Fuck!" Harry gasped out, feeling tears sting his eyes. He wanted to get closer to her body, to do something, but he was immediately engaged by another Death Eater. The Death Eater who had killed Hermione crowed in victory, before disappearing into the chaos in search for more prey. No matter, Harry thought to himself darkly even as the Death Eater in front of him fell to a well aimed Killing curse. He had ingrained the culprit's mannerisms and fighting style into his memory, and could easily hunt her down later. She would not live to see another day.
He pressed his lips tightly together to hold his emotions together, quickly conjuring a white cloth over her body as a gesture of respect to the brave and intelligent witch who had stood by him in his darkest moments. "Get yourself together, Potter," He muttered, turning his eyes away from the sight and immediately casting a shield spell, watching as a sickly orange light splashed on its surface. He dodged a stray Killing curse, throwing one of his own right back at a Death Eater that had snuck up on him.
The battle continued; Hermione Granger's death brushed aside as one of the many casualties of the war. Harry pushed his grief at her death behind his Occlumency shields, focusing on staying alive in the chaotic battle. "Sectumsempra! Confringo! Duro!" He roared, throwing spell after spell at the Death Eaters around him, who immediately conjured up shields to stand against the continuous fire.
It was supposed to be a standard mission, a simple take-and-run kind of mission. The town was supposed to be secure. What the fuck was Diggle and Hestia doing? He snarled, blasting a Death Eater out of the way. Without hesitation, he raised his wand towards the darkening sky, throwing up a shower of red and gold sparks to call a retreat. Then he twisted his body, trying to apparate, but was met with a solid barrier.
Anti-Apparition wards. The hell? They had put up security measures just a few days ago to negate such wards. He scowled, abandoning his attempts at apparition, his emerald eyes quickly searching out Filius, the former Charms Professor at Hogwarts and a Ward Master. He threw a Killing curse at the Death Eater Filius was engaging, taking him out immediately.
"We need to get the bloody wards down, now!" Harry shouted, grabbing the diminutive man roughly and pulling him into a deserted alleyway.
"It's too complex! It'll take hours," Filius shouted back, over the screams of spells and curses. "We need to run and get out of physical range of the wards!"
Harry cursed under his breath, feeling slightly dizzy from excessive blood loss. "Get the rest who are still alive and lead them out. I'm trusting their safety with you."
Flitwick pressed his lips together in determination, raising his wand slightly in promise before whirling around and disappearing back into the battle, to try to get the remaining Order survivors out before Voldemort arrived.
Harry headed for higher ground, keeping to the shadows and cursing the occasional Death Eater who spotted him. While Filius' job was to get all the Order members out, Harry's was to destroy the scene utterly, so that none of the bodies could be turned into Inferi and used against them. They had learnt their lessons well, through the numerous battles. There was no room for mistakes.
He crouched behind a bush, his breathing a little heavy, and narrowed his eyes as he carefully scrutinized the battle occurring below. The smoke was making it difficult to see properly, however, and it was impossible to tell friend from foe at such a distance. No matter, he trusted Filius. He would do exactly as instructed.
Ten minutes. He would give the Order ten minutes before razing the place down with Fiendfyre. The civilians would have been evacuated by now, or already dead, killed.
Five minutes. Harry squinted at the battle below. There were still a hell lot of movement.
Three minutes.
One minute. He hoped that most, if not all, of the Order members had evacuated.
Five, four, three, two…
A sudden prickling at his neck made him stiffen and throw himself to the right, only to see a bright green light strike the place where he had been crouching by. High cold laughter broke the silence of the night.
"Voldemort," Harry said emotionlessly, swallowing the spell he had been about to cast. Damn it, and he had been less than a second away from destroying the town…
Cursing Voldemort's bad timing, Harry clenched his fist around his holly and phoenix feather wand, ready to fight. Instead of doing the same, Voldemort simply watched him with a touch of dark amusement, lips curling into a small sneer.
"Dumbledore is dead. Do you really think you can defeat me now?"
"Your penchant for conversation before doing battle could be your downfall, Tom," Harry snarled right back, feeling a vicious sort of triumph when Voldemort hissed at the use of his muggle name. Triumph faded to uncertainty and wariness, however, when instead of cursing him like Harry expected, Voldemort merely smirked.
Emerald green eyes widened with realisation and Harry immediately tried to twist his body to dodge the spell from behind. It was too late a realisation, however, and the last thing he knew was Voldemort's cold laugh as darkness descended upon him.
"Harry? Harry, wake up," Someone was shaking him. He grouchily batted the hands away, snuggling into what he thought was a pillow when pain flooded his senses. Immediately he sat right up, gasping at the tight pain at his side. Glancing down, he saw a deep wound covered with a mixture of fresh and dried blood. He resisted a groan and looked around. Remus, Minerva and Tonks were awake, staring at him with a glimmer of worry.
Harry looked around at his surroundings. They looked to be in a cell. As far as he could see, the cell was empty. It was dark and he had to squint to even make out the features of Tonks, who was sitting the furthest from him. Her ankle (or what used to be there) was bleeding profusely, but she seemed to be fine at the moment, with only excessive blood loss to worry about judging by the pale expression on her face.
They stayed silent for a while, the fact that they were probably in Voldemort's hold being painfully obvious to them. But was it that bad to die, even if it was in the hands of Voldemort? Harry had to wonder. He had nothing to live for now. Ron and Hermione were dead. Arthur Weasley was captured and presumed dead. Almost all of Hogwarts students were dead. Hell, half of Britain was dead, muggle or magical. The whole country seemed to be bathed in blood. Muggles was slaughtering wizards out of fear and vice versa, Voldemort was slaughtering light wizards, and leaders were sacrificing thousands of innocents to try to save the situation, actions made for the 'Greater Good'. Harry had seen the atrocities that humans could do, and it made a very ugly picture. Everyone was struggling to save their own skin, not batting an eyelid at betraying the people they loved just to live to see one more day. Others committed suicide, not wanting to see anymore of the war. Harry yearned to do that, but he knew that he was the one destined to defeat Voldemort. He couldn't be selfish, no matter how impossible the task seemed.
He shook his head to get rid of such thoughts. "How did you guys get here? I thought I told Filius to get all of you out."
Remus shrugged, wincing at the pain the simple action elicited. "We probably got caught before he could get to us. We got taken out pretty early."
Tonks scowled. "They surprised us."
Someone betrayed us was the unspoken words that hung in the air. They had suspected for at least a year now, that there was a traitor in the Order, but lacked the resources to check.
Besides, Harry thought grimly, it would have been unwise to throw accusations around in such a climate. He needed all the support he could get from the Order, and if he did that he could very well lose their help and support. Instead, he had waited to inform the Order only at the last possible moment of any missions. Obviously it had not worked out.
"Harry," His former Transfiguration professor spoke up, breaking the tense silence.
Harry tilted his head to the right in reply.
"Remember the... the last operation? The one which Al-Albus said it was the last resort? If all else fails and there is no more hope."
Remus widened his eyes as he thought of the implications of that statement. "We could send Harry to her. He could train and come back to fight. A wish for more time," Remus whispered, repeating what Dumbledore had shared with them.
Harry shook his head, his heart crushing painfully, "It has to be performed by four people. If I am the one being sent, you need one more person." All that hard work, the silent wish that it would save them if all else fails, and Operation Last Resort was in the end, just a wish that never came true. It would not save the world. It seemed that the world had a very grim future indeed.
"To hell with the rules, Harry," Tonks said venomously, "I am sick of seeing this war-torn world. Sick of living in this world. If there is a way to save this, no matter how impossible it seems, I am going to give it a try. I don't give a damn if we survive or not. I'll rather die trying to resist them than die by their hands." Her hair was dull in colour, a colour that had remained ever since the war really started. She had changed from the once bubbly girl to a tired war veteran who just wanted war to end, just like all of them.
Remus and Minerva nodded, a spark of their old selves returning. Their determination, which had slowly diminished throughout the war, was back. And Harry found himself nodding along. All of them felt a sense of optimism for the first time in a long while.
The three joined hands, with Harry in the middle, and they started a long chant in old Celtic. Bill had discovered the spell on accident, and after handing the relic with the carved words on it to Dumbledore, he had been killed by enraged death eaters who wanted the spell. Dumbledore was killed for the same reason, although he had been wise enough to destroy it beforehand after teaching it to Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Minerva and Harry.
Remus started first, the chant being very familiar after months of thinking about it relentlessly. Harry repeated after him, his blood as the necessary sacrifice for the spell. This process was repeated for the other two. The magic building up in the air around them was making it difficult to breathe. Harry breathed deeply, feeling the heavy weight of the magic in the air press down on him.
A sudden flash of pure white light illuminated the cell briefly, alerting the Death Eaters who immediately rushed to the cell, wands blazing and curses on their lips. When they got there, however, they were greeted with the sight of three lifeless bodies, an odd, creepy sort of a smile curling each of their lips.
And Harry Potter was gone.
There. The rewritten version of EtF, finally. Sorry for all those who have been waiting! The past 2 years have been really busy. Still, I have months of free time now, after my national exams, so updates will be slightly faster.
So. Better than before, worse, or meh? Constructive criticism and suggestions welcomed! I have worked on some of the suggestions you guys left me, so hopefully this will be a better story, one that I can see to the very end.
Icylone