AN: Chapter 2 for you too enjoy.
I've also added a disclaimer to chapter 1 which I won't be repeating every chapter. I hope people weren't double alerted.
Chapter 2
Aurors were swarming around the area Harry had disappeared from. The entire section where Knockturn Alley met Diagon Alley was roped off, much to the normal shoppers and residents dismay. Several aurors and countless civilians had witnessed the national hero's disappearance and no one could shed any light on what had happened to Harry. There was no portkey trace, no indication of disapparition, no hint of invisibility spells, potions or objects, nothing. That was why Hermione was here now, not that she wouldn't have come anyway with her best friend missing. Ron was here as well, though he had quit the aurors and was working with George now. Despite that, her husband was always one of the best informed about various plots concerning Harry, becausenobody watched their words in George's shop. So he was telling the aurors about anything he could think of that may constitute threat to Harry. But from what Ron had told her, sentiment towards Harry was positive at the moment. People were looking forward to when Harry became Head Auror believing it would make their lives safer.
But that was why Ron was here, not why Hermione was here. Yes she would have come for moral support, but she and her colleges had a job to do. The aurors could not find out what had whisked Harry away so they called in the unspeakables. That that meant they had another prominent war-hero investigating her best friend's disappearance was just coincidental, Hermione was sure. Anyway it was time to investigate the magical residue around the scene of Harry's disappearance. Harry would count on them to find out where he was, she was not going to disappoint him.
When Harry awoke, it was to the feeling of cuffs around his arms and ankles. The pleasantly soft bed beneath him couldn't compensate for the discomfort those caused on principle alone, even though they were well padded to not cause undue pain. He could be dead instead of bound, he supposed, things could be worse. Come to think of it, considering his last memories were of fighting some group that looked like people he knew, alive and dead, he was rather surprised he was alive. Maybe they wanted to interrogate him? Yea, probably.
Well, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. Time to open his eyes. To his surprise he clearly recognized the ceiling of the Hogwarts hospital wing. That meant his contact lenses were on. How odd. Kind of sad, that he could recognize the hospital wing ceiling, but that didn't change the fact. Why on earth would he be in Hogwarts? Had he been rescued? But then he would have been taken to St. Mungo's. He hadn't been to Hogwarts since the reopening ceremony after the repairs were completed.
"Ah, I see you are awake," came Madam Pomfrey's voice, "I'm sorry about the bindings, but with the welcome you gave us, we felt it was necessary."
Harry turned his head to glare at the woman. Yup, definitely her and definitely the Hogwarts hospital wing. Before Harry could decide if he wanted to reply to that or not, the Hospital wing doors opened to let Dumbledore, Kingsley and Snape in. Two of which should be dead. Narrowing his eyes, he waited for them to speak.
"I'm sorry about the bindings," Dumbledore said repeating Pomfrey's words, "but we felt it was necessary. You gave us quite the fight."
Harry just rolled his eyes and continued to glare at the quartet making Snape sneer at him. He wasn't saying anything until he deemed it necessary.
"You are probably confused, so let me clear up a few things for you," Dumbledore said pleasantly.
Harry waited his expression not chaining from a glare. Pomfrey shifted a little, but the other three remained stoic. Once it was clear that Harry wouldn't be responding Dumbledore continued, "You see, we summoned you here from another dimension, because we are in desperate need of your help."
At that Harry couldn't help himself, he snorted, then winced in pain as the air passed through his throat abruptly. A hand was jerked back by the chains holding him when he automatically attempted to reach for his neck.
"You sustained a heavy injury to the neck," Pomfrey told him in response to his gesture, "It is the only one I haven't been able to heal completely so far. While your emergency healing probably saved your life, it didn't make my job any easier. I'd advise against attempting to speak or doing anything else that might strain your throat."
Harry nodded, to show he understood. Once he got away form these impostors he would definitely get himself completely checked over.
"I'm not surprised you don't believe us," Dumbledore said gently, "I'm afraid, however, we didn't quite trust you not to attack us the minute you awoke if we left you your wand. You are an auror, are you not?"
Again Harry nodded. Really, everyone knew that, but if they insisted on this dimension travel nonsense…
"Excellent. Now I assume you are Harry Potter in your dimension?" Nod and eye roll, really all this was common knowledge, though they were putting on a good show. Especially that Snape's sneer got worse with each of Harry's responses was a nice touch.
Dumbledore clearly saw that Harry was far from convinced by their act. Sighing, he pulled out his wand. With a flick of it a fully fledged phoenix patronus came to life and soared out of the hospital wing. Harry's eyes widened, for the first time he began to doubt his assessment that all this was some elaborate hoax. Casting a patronus non-verbally without dementors around was about as difficult as producing one in close proximity to a dementor verbally. Since very few wizards could cast the spell successfully at all, the number that could do that was even lower. And Harry knew that Dumbledore was capable of the feat. Much more convincing than that little tidbit, was the shape though. Two patronuses that looked exactly the same were incredibly rare. What was the likelihood that an impostor would have the exact same patronus as Dumbledore? A sense of dread began to fill him.
"I take it you recognize my patronus?" Dumbledore asked not having missed Harry's reaction. A curt nod was his answer.
"Would you recognize any other patronus?" he continued.
Harry used the hand bound to the bedside facing his interrogators to awkwardly point at Snape and Kingsley. He was kind of glad that he didn't have to nod again, it was making him feel a bit silly.
"If you would gentlemen," Dumbledore told them. Snape went first.
"Expecto patronum!"
A doe burst from his wand. The exact same one that had led him to the Sword of Gryffindor during the horcrux hunt.
"Expecto patronum," intoned Kingsley. Again, the patronus took a familiar form. The Lynx that he had first seen during the war but still was in use as a messenger when Kingsley was feeling lazy. Now one impostor having the same patronus as their real counterpart was possible, if unlikely. Three of them matching up was next to impossible. It appeared these people might be telling the truth. The sense of dread tippled.
'You can't be sure,' he told himself. He didn't really believe it though.
Just as the patronuses dispersed McGonagall entered the room, followed closely by Mrs. Weasley. Harry promptly zeroed in on the very familiar wand in McGonagall's hand.
"It appears your presence is not quite as necessary as I originally thought," Dumbledore told the new arrivals. "Apparently, Mr. Potter here is quite familiar not only with the theory behind patronuses but also with the shape mine, Kingsley's and Severus' take. As a token of goodwill we will still be returning his wand."
"Do you think that is wise?" Mrs. Weasley almost growled. Dumbledore just raised an eyebrow at her.
"Fine, if he kills any more of my sons I'm holding you responsible," she snapped, eyes flashing. Dumbledore nodded gravely.
"If we release you and return your wand will you be peaceful?" Dumbledore asked seriously.
Harry nodded solemnly, desperately trying to convey his sincerity. At least for the moment, if he found out they tricked him he was pulling no stops. But if they were really tricking him they would hardly give him back his wand, would they?
'You don't have full proof yet,' he told himself to combat his rising panic.
None of them looked convinced, they looked ready to curse him the moment he made a wrong move. Madam Pomfrey gave a resigned sigh. She twirled her wand at his restrains and mumbled something he couldn't make out. With a click the shackles fell away. At the same time McGonagall took a few steps forward a pinched look of distaste on her face. She got exactly close enough that he could reach for his wand if he sat up.
Carefully flexing his ankles and wrists, he did so reaching for the wand. He couldn't help the sigh of contentment that escaped him once he was finally reunited with the wand. The burning in his throat that accompanied the sound had him grimacing. He had the strong feeling he wasn't going to like the details about what was going on with his throat.
Carefully he pointed the wand upwards so that the tip was just below the height of his chin and held it away from himself at reading distance. Seconds later the date and time appeared above the wand. Harry didn't miss the flinches of those surrounding him, however, he was fixated on what the spell was showing him. November 1st 1998, 11:45 am. It should be sometime after July 17th 2004, 4:00 pm, that was when they had ambushed Dolohov.
'Don't panic, it won't help,' he repeated to himself.
So, apparently he had time-traveled at the very least. But considering Snape and Dumbledore appeared to be alive, it seemed he might really have changed dimensions. Hadn't Dumbledore said they summoned him? It would make sense to do so on All Hallows Eve, that's when the barrier between living and dead was at its thinnest. It would stand to reason that the barrier between dimensions would be as well. Evidently he would have to try to find a way back. No need to panic.
Slowly he lowered his wand onto his lap vainly hoping they hadn't seen how his hands were shaking. Then he turned himself on the bed to face Dumbledore and his companions. Remembering the pain only the smallest sounds caused his throat he refrained from speaking. Instead he arched an eyebrow, hoping it would prompt Dumbledore to explain.
"You believe us now?" the old man asked.
There was no need to specify about what so Harry dipped his head in response.
"We've summoned you to help us kill You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley said impatiently.
Harry just stared at all of them in disbelief. They had summoned him from his home so that he could solve their problems? He had just barely escaped with his life defeating the man once. And he had been one of the lucky ones if you counted surviving friends and loved ones as lucky. He was not repeating the experience. What if the Elder Wand hadn't changed allegiances? What if he hadn't been able to come back to life after Voldemort killed him? No way was he going to go against that man again. Not with his much improved skills. Not ever. No, he wouldn't. He would make them send him back. They would send him back. He would make sure of it. There was no other option. He would make them.
"I understand that this is a lot to take in," - A lot to take in! - "but we wouldn't have summoned you if the situation wasn't dire." - Dire? Dire! Their situation was dire? - "From the parameters of the ritual, you should be capable of defeating Tom Riddle," - No, no, no, he was not going to do it again. Not the loss and pain again. - "and you should want to be here even if you don't know it yet." Want to be here? Really? Want to be here?
°Want to be here?° he finally hissed. °You have the gall to tell me I want to be here? You will send me back right this –° In his panic he wasn't fast enough to avoid the stunner from Kingsley's wand. Everything went black.
"Kingsley," Minerva reprimanded.
"You heard Minerva, he's a parselmouth. You-Know-Who is the only known parselmouth. What if our ritual got us another You-Know-Who? He certainly is powerful enough," Kingsley argued.
"Harry Potter was a parselmouth, too," she protested.
"Minerva, you can't be sure he is Potter. He could have lied," Severus interjected.
"And if he didn't?" Minerva asked. "Do you think it's anymore likely he will help us now?"
"I say we just deal with him and take on You-Know-Who ourselves," Molly threw in, "No matter if he is Harry Potter or You-Know-Who, parseltongue is the sign of a dark wizard. We don't need anymore powerful dark wizards out and about."
"Molly, everyone, please calm down," Albus interrupted, "let us have lunch and clear our heads. We will discuss this more later. Poppy could you please place Mr. Potter in a more comfortable position."
Things were definitely not going as he had hoped.
Later that afternoon not all Order members left the emergency meeting happy. Harry Potter – not that the man they summoned deserved to be called by the same name as their boy hero – was not going to be punished for killing three of their own and harming many more. Oh sure they hadn't decided anything yet, but Dumbledore wanted to sway the man to their side. They had summoned him as somebody capable of defeating Voldemort, he probably was their best chance to kill the Dark Lord. Given enough time most would come around to see the Headmaster's point. Considering they had essentially kidnapped Potter it was no surprise that he retaliated as hard as he could. Especially Moody wholeheartedly agreed with Potter's reaction, but he wasn't the only one, they were living during a war. However, at the moment not everyone was convinced.
Moody's agreement with Potter's methods didn't stop him from suggesting executing a raid on Diagon Alley anyway much to Minerva's and several others displeasure. Once it was brought up again, Percy Weasley was happy to suggest the use of summoned Potter as bait for Voldemort during the raid. It said a lot about how unhappy the Order members were with the situation, that it took half an hour to shoot that suggestion down completely. It took another hour for the waters to have calmed enough that Dumbledore felt he could declare the meeting over without someone doing something rash. Unfortunately, he was wrong.
One of those especially angered by the outcome of the meeting was currently sneaking down to Snape's store rooms. Not the student supply cabinet, the other store rooms where he kept the more rare and dangerous ingredients. This person knew exactly what they wanted: To get rid of Potter permanently. And they knew exactly how to do it.
As Hogwarts was a school, the warding on the supply cabinet was keyed to age. Anyone under the age of twenty-five would be kept out, preventing students from accessing it by a wide margin. Luckily for the would be thief, since wards really weren't their specialty, there was absolutely nothing to prevent anyone over that age from getting inside.
Confident that no one would be coming this way any time soon the person slipped inside, eyes rapidly searching for the correct vial. It was turned so the label was facing the wall, but the thief would never forget how Pomfrey had extracted the venom from the basilisk tooth embedded in poor Harry's arm. Of all the wounds the boy had carried away, the venom had been what killed him. What had killed their Harry would definitely kill this Potter, of that the would be murderer was sure.
Gently the vial was levitated into a conjured pouch. Even more carefully than before the thief snuck to the hospital wing. Pomfrey was at dinner and the more heavily injured Order members were at the other end of the hospital wing, each within their own privacy ward. So no one noticed them walk straight up to Potter's bed eyes flickering from bed to bed to ensure that it stayed that way. Until they fell on Potter's bedside-table. Then a look of rage could be seen on their face. Pomfrey had placed Potter's wand on it. This man who had murdered their own, who was a parselmouth, had free access to his wand. Did that woman have no sense? Well, once they were done here Potter would never be using it again anyway.
"Stupefy, silencio," whispered the would be assassin, wand pointed at Potter. He was already unconscious, but better safe than sorry. A few steps and the assailant stood at Potters bed manhandling him into a half-sitting position with his head tilted backward. A nifty little spell, learned from Pomfrey, kept Potter's mouth open. Basilisk venom killed on contact, despite that, they were going to make sure nothing went wrong. Not after they had gotten this far.
A practiced swish and flick, and the vial was levitating in front of them, the conjured pouch gone. Another routine swish uncorked it. The assistant directed the vial with their wand to float over to Potter's mouth and tilted it slowly. Just to make sure, the entire contents were poured into his mouth. Seeing his body beginning to convulse silently even past the stunning spell they considered their work done. A few more wand movements and the empty vial sat closed on the bedside table. The others would know what killed him anyway. Without further thought, the assassin turned and left Potter to his fate.
