PLOT: AU. After the Department of Mysteries, Harry is captured, Sirius is alive, and hope seems to be lost. Sometime later, the Chosen One is found lying before the gates of Hogwarts, his body mangled and broken, his mind almost gone. As he is on the brink of death, Dumbledore makes a very difficult and irreversible decision. Once made, Harry is changed forever....

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is not mine. DARNIT!


The Demon Within

Broken


Somewhere in England...

Harry opened his eyes, but he could see nothing. The darkness was complete, stifling, and frightening. He tried to move, but found that he could not. He shivered as he felt the cold settle into his skin. Where was he? What happened? Where were the others? The thought struck him that perhaps he was dead, but he quickly discounted that. He didn't think he was.

The sound of footsteps echoed all around him and he tried vainly to see anything. Suddenly, a blast of light accompanied by the sound of a very heavy door opening blinded him. His eyes shut tightly, protesting against the sudden exposure to light. Rough hands grabbed him and he tried to say something, but found that he could not speak either. His voice failed him and all that rewarded him of his efforts was a slight moan that escaped his lips.

There was a pause, as if his captors were surprised by his making a sound, and then he was struck hard in the face and the darkness engulfed him once more.


"Harry..... Harry... come now, boy, wake up..." an amused voice whispered into his ear. The voice was so very familiar, but he could not remember who it was. He struggled to move, but his body did not respond. Opening his eyes, Harry saw that the world around him was a blur; his glasses had been knocked off sometime beforehand. The person that had been whispering into his ear stood before him, but he could not see who it was, and his sluggish mind did not help matters.

"Ah.... Excellent! I appreciate you joining us today, Harry, it is quite... delightful that you are here."

Harry still could not identify the figure speaking to him.

"I must say, your little stunt at the Department of Mysteries was unexpectedly challenging, but you played into our hands very well at the end," the figure drawled on. It was a male voice, somewhat deep and with a hint of disdain. There was definite pleasure in the voice; whoever the man was, he was happy, and Harry thought that to be a bad thing.

A door opened somewhere and Harry heard footsteps come closer until he could feel the breath of whoever it was that stood directly behind him. Harry shivered again, though he wasn't sure if his body actually did or if it was all in his mind.

"Harryyy...... Potterrr...." a voice that Harry instantly recognized whispered into his ear, and that was when Harry knew that he was going to die.

"Yessss, Potter. You will die soon enough, but first, a little entertainment," Voldemort said with a cold glee. "Crucio!" he hissed and Harry felt his whole body erupt in pain. Dull knives seemed to be scraping his skin off and he felt like his insides were ripping apart. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. He tried to move, to do anything, but he could not. He stayed completely still, the only place he could react was within himself, and even then his mind was being overwhelmed by the pain.

Then it stopped, so suddenly that for a moment he thought he was dead, but upon opening his eyes he saw two blurry figures before him and knew it was not over.

"You have troubled me for the last time, Harry. Foolish of you to go against me, really... had you joined me instead, you would have been great. Now, here you are, broken and powerless...." said Voldemort, stepping closer enough to Harry that he could make out his snake-like face.

"Today, the Chosen One falls. Tomorrow," Voldemort spoke, "the world. Nothing will stop me. The prophecy is false," The Dark Lord cackled, an inhuman sound that ringed with malice, and then with a sudden flash of light Harry knew no more.


Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

The rain pelted the windows with a fury as the wind blew with such force as to rattle the windows even more. Thick, dark clouds covered the sky for miles and streaks of lightning tore through the sky as the ensuing claps of thunder echoed with loud booms. In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore stood by one of the windows, his gaze faraway and his hands tightly held behind his back.

Fawkes crooned, bringing the old headmaster out of his thoughts. He turned towards his desk and eyed the fiery red and orange phoenix that stared back at him. Suddenly, Fawkes leaped off his stand and in disappeared in a flash of flame. Slightly alarmed and very curious, Dumbledore closed his eyes and concentrated hard, using the connection he had with Fawkes to allow his mind to meld with his phoenix.

He felt pain, a terrible pain, coming from somewhere below. The wind was blowing powerfully and it was difficult to fly, and it was hard to see as the rain was thick and heavy. Dumbledore tried to discern where Fawkes was, but was unable to due to the poor visibility. Then suddenly, Fawkes dove towards the ground, and the feeling of excruciating pain and sorrow became stronger.

A figure started to appear as Fawkes leveled off, his wings beating powerfully and quickly as the wind buffeted him. The figure was sprawled on the ground, and Dumbledore could tell that whoever it was, he or she was severely injured. Communicating with Fawkes, Dumbledore broke the mind-melding and rushed to the infirmary, where he had instructed Fawkes to bring the stranger.

Somehow, Dumbledore had a terrible feeling that he knew who it was.


Madam Pomfrey scrambled out of her room as she heard the doors slam open and the headmaster calling her name in a very urgent manner. A flash of flame startled her for a moment before she realized it was Fawkes. She turned to see what the problem was when she saw the figure on one of her beds. She held up a hand to her heart and the other to her mouth as she felt both stunned and sick at the same time.

She had seen many injuries before, many different wounds and afflictions, but never had she seen someone so terribly and horribly mangled and broken. The figure was extremely dirty and was covered in mud and drenched with water. Blood was already seeping into the sheets as uncountable gashes and cuts covered the figure's skin. She could already tell that there were multiple bones broken; all fingers, both arms, legs, knees, and possibly even the neck. She saw that the chest was partially collapsed, so there were a few broken ribs and possibly collapsed lungs as well. There was definite internal bleeding.

The face was badly beaten, evidenced by the broken nose, multiple missing teeth, and extreme swelling that indicated broken bones all over. Both eyes were swollen shut, and blood was coming out of the ears and the nose. It was terrible, and she wondered how the figure could be alive.

Dumbledore stood over the stranger. Slowly, he reached for the figure's head and pulled back the dirty hair that hung over the figure's forehead. Madam Pomfrey gasped and nearly fainted when she saw the faint outline of a lightning-bolt scar.


Author's Notes: Reviews?