Harry Potter And The Lycanthrope Legacy
Foreword
'Legacy' 'Anything left by will, bequest, thing handed down to successor'
And 'Lycanthorpe'? Well, that will become clear in time!
Author's Notes
Obviously, I don't own any of the characters created by J. K. Rowling. This is a speculative, 'alternative-universe', story which taps into the world of Harry Potter.
However, any previously-unknown characters – which Harry Potters fans will find a few of in these pages – are of my own making. Also, I have sometimes used elements from the films – for example, I've described Hogwarts as being near to both the Black Lake AND a larger loch.
This story is initially set at the end of Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft (so NOT Deathly Hallows compliant). For the purposes of this tale, as far as the official book series goes, the events of books 1-6 are 'true'. Professor Snape is now dead (fate not described, as I had not yet read The Deathly Hallows when I wrote the vast majority of this story). Instead of dropping out of his 7th school year, Harry decided to stay on after the events of The Half-Blood Prince, being granted time out of school by Professor McGonnagall now and then in order to seek and destroy most of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Other items of note, are:
Draco Malfoy has firmly committed himself as a faithful Death Eater.
Since the end of the previous school year, Harry has tried to avoid becoming too emotionally involved with Ginny. Having already lost a number of loved ones, Harry has decided to keep his friends – but he cannot allow himself any closer relationships, until the war against You-Who-Know is finally over.
After months of planning, Lord Voldemort has finally launched his invasion of Hogwarts – to destroy his marked equal (Harry) and his other enemies at the school! His Death Eater army – including Draco – have stormed the castle.
Now read on…
Chapter One: The Day Of Reckoning
Harry Potter held back a cry of pain, as he slowly pulled himself upright, using the support of the damaged wall behind him. Still on his knees, he wiped away the running sweat and blood on his face – wincing at the cuts and bruises he could now feel throbbing, as his senses returned.
For a long moment, he was disorientated. The air around Hogwarts Castle rang with screams and frantic yells. Here and there, the bodies of the fallen lay strewn around, in unnatural angles – their frozen expressions and terror-glazed eyes confirming the brutal fact that everyone else of this sector of the battlefield was dead.
As his hearing returned to normal, Harry shakingly felt underneath his school robes – reassuring himself that his wand was still intact, tucked as it was behind his belt, at his hip. His head cleared, and his mind sharpened once more, in response to the urgency of the situation.
The expected – and dreaded – confirmation with Lord Voldemort and his army had finally come.
The Death Eaters (Voldemort's wizard servants) and their allies were now gathered, to finally crush the forces of good at Hogwarts.
Somewhere within the school, Ron, Hermione, and Harry's other friends – plus the staff – were currently fighting for their very lives against the enemy hordes.
The number of casualties of both sides were continuing to mount up – although Harry had already born witness to two Death Eaters dying, he had also already seen Professor Grubbly-Plank blasted down by a Death Eater. And several boys and girls – the Creevey brothers amongst them – had been burnt to cinders by the flying dragon, which bore two riders on its back. The first of them was the rear seat passenger – Peter Pettigrew. The other was Lord Voldemort himself, laughing gleefully as his huge reptilian steed set about destroying the castle and those within, with claws, slashing tail, and burning breath.
The dragon was none other than Voldemort's pet snake, Nagini, transformed by advanced sorcery. Harry had learned of this disturbing news, via an advanced warning shared with him by Professor Moody. He, in turn, had learnt of Voldemort's latest experiment, from gathered intelligence. To add further insult to Harry (if that was possible), Voldemort had reformed Nagini into a Hungarian Horntail – the same type of dragon Harry had to outwit in the TriWizard's Tournament, over three years ago.
Harry gritted his teeth at the challenge awaiting him. Nagini was the last remaining of Voldemort's Horcruxes. In order to the Dark Lord to perish – his pet had to die, as she contained a portion of her master's soul.
There had been another death that Harry had seen, minutes ago – and which had shocked him further. Cho Chang had been standing in one of the wooden walkways leading to the main school building, along with a couple of other pupils, when Nagini lashed out with her tail, smashing the platform as though it had been a stack of matches.
On the ground, and watching from a short distance away, Harry had been unable to save the students in time from plummeting to their deaths.
But despite the tears in his eyes, and the burning urge to sprint straight for Nagini, the voice of reason in Harry's head made him stop. Instead, he had turned and ran – using what cover he could – as he made his way over to Hagrid's hut.
The only way of diverting Voldemort away from his destructive spree was to get out into the open. And Harry saw to this by mounting Buckbeak, the Hippogriff, and taking off into the cloudy, grey afternoon sky.
Taking off, Harry had shouted out to Voldemort, challenging the Dark Lord. As expected, the murderer of Harry's parents had taken the bait, giving chase by steering Nagini round, in an attempt to turn The-Boy-Who-Lived and the Hippogriff into roasted sky confetti.
Buckbeak gave the opposition a merry dance, avoiding the dragon's flames. And, at the opportune moment, Harry loosened his prepared Firebolt from its strap around Buckbeak – and then taken off.
A surprised Voldemort then realized he had two targets to worry about. As he chased after Harry, an enraged Buckbeak closed in and slashed at the dragon's back with his claws and beak.
Peter Pettigrew – alternatively known at Wormtail – had screamed, and panicked too much to effectively strike out with his wand against the Hippogriff. The minute that followed was a confusion of aerial twists, frantic magical blasts of whizzing energy, dragon flames, and airborne sprays of blood.
In the end, Buckbeak and Nagini had brought about the doom of each other, as Voldemort desperately fought with both hands on the reins, to control his plummeting pet. The Hippogriff fell to earth, aflame – and Nagini crashed against the canopy of the Forbidden Forest, dislodging a wailing Wormtail – before pitching forwards with an almighty splash into the Black Lake close to the castle, taking the Dark Lord with it, as they sank out of sight.
Harry had managed to see this uplifting spectacle – before the burning of the hairs on his broomstick alerted him to the fact that Voldemort's dragon had managed to score some damage on him, after all.
He had screamed then, fearing the worst – and directed the Firebolt towards the ground. In the end, Harry crash-landed against the outer wall of the castle…
Back in the present moment, his senses fully alert, Harry Potter cast a couple of spells to help his battered body knit together. Then, he got back up and took in the edge of the battlefield around him.
There was no visible opposition, but on the ground just within the border of the Forbidden Forest, close to the shore of the lake, he glimpsed Buckbeak lying motionless on his side, feathers aflame.
Wiping aside the tears in his eyes, Harry tested his legs, then – wand at the ready - raced downhill towards the lake, heart pounding at the thought that Voldemort might finally be dead. He had to be sure!
He was making his way en route through the edge of the forest, when he found himself yards away from the Hippogriff's burning body. Harry paused, and then managed to tear his eyes away from the ghastly sight, when a hoarse voice rang out.
"Stupefy!"
Harry cried out, as a magical blast struck him out of nowhere. It was not a direct hit, as he had twisted to one side, in an attempt to dive for cover. Nevertheless, he fell, his shoulder stinging from the stunning spell – and his wand dropped out of reach.
I'll be dead if I don't get it…, he thought to himself.
"No boy! Stay right there!"
Harry looked up. He had been ambushed by Peter Pettigrew. Voldemort's lackey didn't look too good – he was bruised and bleeding from the injuries sustained from his too-close encounter with the trees. He was also bent over, in pain.
"You!" Harry spat. "All right, then. Are you going to kill me, Peter!?"
Wormtail's eyes clouded with anger. "What have you done…with the Master?"
"He's in the lake! Hopefully, he's forgotten how to do the breast stroke – and has already taken his last breath!!"
The little man glanced at the nearby lake, then raised his wand again at Harry. His right hand was made of silver – and Harry shuddered as he remembered the evening when (and the reason why) Pettigrew had sacrificed his hand.
"I should kill you for that, but…the Master has survived near-death before. If he's still alive…," Wormtail wheezed, "…he'll want to strike the final blow down on you himself. He told me so…"
"So my saving your life…, four years ago, means nothing – doesn't it!?" Harry retorted angrily. "Sirius wanted to kill you for framing him for murder, and for betraying your friends to Voldemort. My parents died because of what you set into motion! And you slaughtered Cedric!! I should have let Sirius cut you down! Then your precious master would've remained a shapeless lump. We wouldn't be here, fighting. No one would be dying in this stupid war – if you hadn't gone running, looking for your murderous, mouldy Voldy, you toad!"
Pettigrew flinched, and looked taken aback by the fury of Harry's verbal assault. Then he smiled. "Yes, you did save my life… And thanks to you, Harry, the world will be a better place, once it has bowed down – in its entirety – before the Dark Lord."
"Thank you for your loyalty, Wormtail!"
A chill ran through Harry's bones, and he shot his face round to take in the newcomer. The bald, ghastly, snake-like visage of Voldemort was coming into view, as he limped up the grassy slope towards them, now just yards away. His dark cloak was soaked, and there were cuts and bruises on the pale flesh surrounding the furious red eyes. Nevertheless, he laughed upon seeing Harry's terrified expression.
"Yes, Harry. Nagini was claimed by the lake…and its watery residents, but I survived – just. Now, let's finish this!"
"Glad to hear your last Horcrux is gone, then!" Harry spat defiantly. If he was about to die, then he would squeeze every drop of pleasure he could out of Voldemort's weakened state.
There was a sneer on the pained, inhuman features regarding him. "So you knew all about the Horcruxes…! Damn you… But you have still failed to destroy me! I'll make sure Horcruxes after today… Your death will give me the energy for my first… Maybe I'll hide it in you! After I've resurrected you as an Inferious…" The thought made Voldemort laugh – it was a slow, raspy gloat of pure evil that made Harry break out into a cold sweat. His hands shook as he slowly edged closer and closer to his wand…
Voldemort's mind stabbed into Harry's, making him cry out. But Harry was now more versed in shielding his mind from the effects of the usually-dormant, psychic link between them. With a mighty effort, he shut down the barrier in his head – cutting his enemy off.
His opponent's eyes widened in surprise. Then he hissed his anger, and switched tactics.
"Avada Kedavra!" the soft, thin voice spat.
A jet of green light from Voldemort's wand slammed into Harry, before he could snatch his own wand. He yelled, and felt himself flying, at an angle, through the air. He crashed into a tree, and bounced back down to the ground, down to the world.
Voldemort laughed in satisfaction, as he regarded the sight of his nemesis' prone, broken body. "At last…! Urr!!" He coughed suddenly, spitting up blood.
"Master?" Peter Pettigrew stepped forward.
"Too many injuries, Wormtail…! The impact of the trees… The crash-landing…" the Dark Lord hissed.
Pettigrew hobbled over to him, agitated. "No! You can't die now! You've just killed the infamous Harry Potter! Surely…I can help you, my Lord?"
Voldemort opened his pained eyes. "Yes… Yes, you can, Wormtail." Then he pointed his wand at his servant and quickly cast another spell.
Wormtail screamed as he was immobilized by a dark ray of light from his master's wand. His face and body dried up and shriveled – his life force being sucked away, and transferred to Voldemort.
The smaller man's mouth dropped open beneath his now-ashen face. With a shocked expression frozen on his features, Peter Pettigrew pitched forward to the ground.
The Dark Lord flexed his neck and body with a dreamy expression, as he luxuriated in the rush of his new-found energy.
"You…monster!!"
Voldemort shot his face round. He hissed, taken aback. Harry had now retrieved his wand, and had been about to use it, when his shocked outburst had betrayed him.
"You…! How!?"
"Magical armour of protection, Snakeface!" Harry tore apart his ruined shirt, to reveal the breastplate fitted to his torso. "One of the special projects the new Headmaster had been working on, recently. Your spell just knocked me out a bit!"
Harry walked gingerly – and somewhat unsteadily – to his left. His heart was pounding madly. The next minute – or the next few seconds – would be crucial, he told himself. He had a vague plan, and right now he wanted Voldemort to be in-between him and the burning pyre that was Buckbeak…
The two opponents were mere yards apart. Voldemort watched Harry carefully with slit-like eyes, wand tip at the ready. It was just them alone, now. No reinforcements within sight to arrive upon the scene.
The continuing cries of battle rang out from within and around Hogwarts, on the light breeze…
"You know the prophecy, Harry," Voldemort rasped. "And yet, despite the destruction of my Horcruxes, you cannot hope to kill me. You don't have the heart for it!"
"Just try me!" Harry yelled back.
The tension in the air around them thickened.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Protego!"
With impeccable timing, Harry's spell struck Voldemort's halfway between them, just like three years before – due to the fact that their wands were fashioned from feathers belonging to the same phoenix. Voldemort laughed gleefully as he held onto his wand with both hands, willing his magic to overcome Harry's. The beams of energy interlinked, creating an electric-like display of crackling arcs that licked at the air between the two combatants.
"You are so predictable, boy! I have not forgotten the link between our wands! But I have just acquired Wormtail's life-force – whilst you are weary. Soon, your magic will pale before mine, and you will be no more!!" Voldemort roared.
Harry gritted his teeth. No! He would not give in now! He would fight back with all the strength in him. He owed it to his parents, to Cedric Diggory, and to Professor Dumbledore, not to fail…
Harry grunted with exertion as he fought to hold his wand steady. He began to despair, seeing the intersection of magic energies edge closer and closer to him, as his efforts started to falter before the Dark Lord's relentless, sustained attack…
Then a figure rose behind Voldemort. In the next instant, it seized Harry's enemy around the mouth and neck, and jerked him off-balance.
"What-hummph!? Get oopphh mee!!" Voldemort's muffled voice was still loud, as he tried to break free of Peter Pettigrew.
Wide-eyed, Harry managed to take in the pitiful expression on Wormtail's face.
"I served you faithfully!" he wailed to the Dark Lord. "And yet you tried to kill me… I will take no more abuse! YOU HEAR ME? No more!!" And with that, Pettigrew managed to twist his master's wand towards the two of them.
The intersection of magical forces was broken, and Harry quickly redirected his spell harmlessly to the ground. Meanwhile, there was a green blast of light, and Wormtail was sent flying through the air. Voldemort's wand went with him – Pettigrew had managed to pluck it out of his master's grip with his last act of defiance.
Voldemort slipped, and groggily got back upon his feet. He leapt for his wand.
"Accio wand!"
Both Harry and the Dark Lord were taken aback by the sight of the wand flying towards a tree, from where a newcomer's voice had sounded out of the blue.
"Petrolio!"
Harry let fire with an unusual spell. Voldemort bellowed as he was splattered with a jet of an oily-like substance. Spinning round, he found himself hurtled, at speed, straight into the still-burning remains of Buckbeak.
"YAAHH!!"
The Dark Lord swiftly became a beacon of light, as the inflammable liquid on his robes caught fire. He fell, somersaulting over, on the other side of the dead Hippogriff – and waved his arms in the air, rolling over the ground at the same time, in a desperate bid to escape his fate.
"AAAGGGHHH!! AAAGGGHHH!!!"
In a matter of seconds, it was all over. Voldemort's piercing screams died away, and the flames licked greedily at his still body.
Harry collapsed upon his knees, crying tears of relief. He felt shocked to be still alive.
Then he remembered he wasn't alone.
"Harry!"
"Her-mi-on-nay…!" he gasped in a weak voice.
Hermione Granger ran over to Harry, and flung her arms around him. "You've done it!! Oh, thank God! You're alive!!"
"With a little help from you, it seems…! Thanks for that timely fetching spell."
She smiled. "You're welcome. It was a split-second moment of sheer guts on my part. I was petrified… Oh, Harry…"
Eventually, the two Gryffindors got up. Hermione supported Harry as they regarded their enemy's corpse, which was already dissolving – his unnaturally-prolonged life now crumbling, as time caught up with it. Peter Pettigrew, meanwhile, was sprawled nearly - dead as a result of taking the impact of Voldemort's last spell, meant for Harry.
Harry reached down and closed the sightless eyes. The Ministry of Magic would need to see the body later, he reflected. So that the wizarding world would know for sure that Pettigrew had faked his own death, years ago. "Than you, Peter…" Harry swallowed. "You eventually paid off your debt to me, after all."
He straightened up and retrieved Voldemort's wand from where it had fallen.
"Harry…, what are you doing now?"
"Putting the past to rest," he answered Hermione's question, as he tossed the wand onto the pyre of Buckbeak's body. The wand gradually blackened and cracked, turning to cinders in the blaze. One by one, vague phantom shapes arose from it, and dissolved. Hermione gasped. They both saw Harry's parents appear together, smiling at them both – before they too vanished, along with the rest of Voldemort's victims, including Peter Pettigrew.
There was now an aura of peace in the air, as though invisible clouds had been lifted.
"You saw the fight…?" Harry asked aloud.
Hermione nodded. "As I ran over. I wasn't able to intervene until that moment I performed the fetching spell with…You-Know-Who's wand…"
Harry nodded. "Thanks again for that… What about the others? Is the fighting still…?"
"That's why I came over to find you, Harry. The battle's over! We've won! Several of us were holding our own against Fenrir Greyback and his werewolf pack. Professor Lupin was fighting them, in his beast-form. The last of the werewolves have been driven off… There are casualties on both sides. But…"
Harry's heart sank as he read his friend's anguished expression. "What is it, Hermione?" He squeezed her shoulders.
"Ginny's been badly injured, Harry! In the melee, Professor Lupin accidently bit her!"