III. Fatality of Death

"Nothingness not being nothing, nothingness being emptiness."


"Speak your name."

Smooth black coals stared into deep green pools.

Was this boy—this man—standing before him really Harry? This man with icy cold eyes, was he really Harry?

If not, then where was the real Harry? And who was this grotesque figure towering over him?

The dead expression, the sword that gleamed at his side, the deep monotone voice: none of them were Harry's.

'Who are you?' was the question the former convict's mind practically screamed as he stared at the unnerving figure in front of him. He couldn't help but to think guiltily that this boy—man—was a person completely different from the Harry he had come to love. He couldn't help but to feel like he wanted to get as far away from this Harry as possible. This Harry that wasn't his Harry, but was Harry at the same time was not Harry or was he?

Confusion threaded its way into Sirius's calm mind as black battled against green. Black and green, green and black: two colors that conflicted yet melded together perfectly at the same time.

He suddenly remembered Harry's question—his order. Harry had asked what his name was. Harry had asked what his GODFATHER's name was. What was the meaning of this? Harry had quickly confirmed that his memory was indeed intact had he not? Then why-?

A tiny spark of hope glittered in his heart.

Feeling Harry's eyes prodding him for an accurate answer, Sirius could only search his mind for an acceptable reply.

"Sirius Black." He found himself answering Harry slowly, not allowing a ray of fear to glow from his eyes.

He watched carefully as Harry contemplated his answer. Harry's calculating eyes seemed looked over masses of data unknown to Sirius. He could only stare in stiff fascination as his godson's eyes flickered with something odd.

Heartbeat rising Sirius quickly added another phrase to his previous answer, "Or Padfoot…"

He didn't know exactly why he had told Harry his nickname—the nickname that Harry should have known. Maybe he had saw the flicker in his godson's eyes as a flicker of recognition and hoped that if maybe—just maybe—if he had added a little tinder to the flicker it would spark into a wild flame. A flame of emotion, remorse, empathy, anything!

His hope was squished and disregarded like a fly as he realized that the flicker in his godson's eyes was no more than a play of light.

He however, did not allow his sorrowful disappointment to show upon his eyes. He had to stay strong. He had to stay strong for his comrades…and for Harry.

"Sirius Black," Harry's voice sliced like a thin blade through his blanketed thoughts.

Sirius lifted his gaze.

Harry stared down at him.

"You should not ally yourself with such weak trash," Harry said coolly. He paused for a moment allowing the words to sink into Sirius's skin. "They will only cause you bothersome trouble in the future."

Weak trash? Sirius knew immediately—almost guiltily—that Harry was talking about the wizards who he had easily defeated. The old Harry had never considered any of his friends as trash. He never even thought of his enemies as trash. Harry couldn't have changed that much could he? It had only been what? A few months since his death? Only for a few painful months had Harry stayed dead. A few painful months of Sirius living in agony and guilt. Finally after all those agonizing months he had finally had Harry back. And now what? Harry had changed as much as a person would change in years—no centuries—rather than a couple months.

Cold eyes analyzed him for a reaction. Noticing Harry's eyes, Sirius kept a smooth face and gazed at Harry evenly.

He was still Harry. He could still become Harry. It was quite obvious that Harry had lost some of his memories, resulting in this large change—at least that's what Sirius hoped. All Sirius had to do was—

"It is easier to just eliminate them."

The words echoed oddly around the room as if they didn't even understand themselves. Sirius threw a look of disbelief at Harry as his godson's lips drew to a close.

"Ah…" was all Sirius could manage. He blinked rapidly to clear the fogginess out of his eyes. He now saw that Harry was no longer facing him, but rather his corpse instead. Almost instantly Sirius knew of his godson's intentions.

"E-Eliminate them?" Sirius stuttered, hoping to gain Harry's attention. Jade eyes turned upon Sirius's stiff figure. "They're my allies—your allies. Friends. How could you even say such a thing?"

As soon as Sirius stopped speaking, his godson immediately fired off an answer.

"Friends, you say?" Harry answered, "There is no such thing."

From the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Hermione and Ron flinch at his words.

Before Sirius could retort, Harry continued.

"These 'friends' as you call them are just objects you require and use to get to a higher point in a

of standing," the boy—man—did not even stop for a breath as he said this long phrase, "After you are done using them, they become meaningless—useless even. Therefore it is necessary to detach yourself from the trash before you are dragged down by their weight."

For the first time ever, Sirius directed an angry glare at his godson. The glare easily sliced through the thin air causing a ripple in the calmness. The edge of the glare headed right towards Harry and appeared to embed deep into his skin, but he showed no sign of hurt or disturbance.

"Harry, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Sirius said now as he stood up on his own feet. He was a couple of feet taller than the boy and gazed down at him—at his helmet—in disapproval. Harry's fingertips which were previously touching Sirius's chest in a dangerous way fell stiffly to his side.

The boy did not look up at his godfather—Harry was superior to Sirius—and instead turned around to face the wizarding crowd: more specifically Dumbledore. Harry carefully slid his hand into his pocket knowing with odd fascination that Sirius was staring lasers at his back.

That is when Sirius came to notice the chain dangling from Harry's chest. It hung there connected to both Harrys in an almost sorrowful way. He blinked at the chains for a moment before he felt a wave of guilt crash onto him. Had Harry not wanted to be brought back to life? Had he not wanted to see his godfather's guilt-filled face? Bringing back Harry for his own reasons, was he more evil than Lord Voldemort himself? His hateful gaze slowly softened.

He cleared his throat attempting to draw Harry's attention away from Dumbledore. His throat burned as he did this and he suddenly found himself in need of water.

This attempt failed for Harry's gaze was fixated upon Dumbledore—the old man kept his façade of a warm smile.

"Now Harry—Ulquiorra," Dumbledore said smoothly. His tone of voice showed that he was clearly glad to hold the attention of the room once more, "I do not wish to insult you, however you have clearly said that your memory was intact, did you not?"

Harry slow blinked at the man as if ridiculing him for his stupidity.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see some of the other wizards' eyes lighting up in some sort of fantasized hope that the reason Harry had been acting coldly was because of his "memory loss". They had just seen proof of Harry's memory loss when he had appeared not to recognize Sirius; therefore, they foolishly kept their eyes glimmering with hope.

"My boy," Dumbledore continued in a slight rasp, "Do you know—do you remember—what relation Sirius has with you?"

Dumbledore cautiously approached Harry with his lips upturned in a kind smile. The boy glowered at him with his expression as blank as a slate.

"I assumed by your stature that you had a high amount of intellect," Harry answered dully, "It seems I've overestimated you."

His green eyes and relaxed form turned to reface his corpse. He briskly walked over to the dead mass and grabbed the end of the chain which was connected to his corpse.

Sirius's eyes widened as he saw Harry's pale, slim fingers wrap carefully around the chain. His godson began squeezing the chain tightly between pale fingers. While grating it in his palms, Harry's hand began to be illuminate in red light. Sirius immediately recognized this action along with a couple other wizards. Before he could react, Harry gave the chain a harsh yank. Much to everyone's surprise—and horror, the thick chains snapped under the strain of light and fell uselessly to the ground. Their eye widened in disdain as the chains began to decay away into nothingness—they would've reacted in shouts; however, they were too frightened to speak.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted suddenly, "There's a hole in his chest!"

Sure enough as their eyes locked onto Harry's chest, they found that there was a medium sized hole right below his collarbone. To their horror, they could clearly see through the hole which revealed the whiteness at the back of his shirt.

What the wizards saw as irregular was apparently an everyday thing for Harry because his eyes did not even widen as he gazed at his hole.

Harry nonchalantly slid his hands into his pockets and turned to face Dumbledore—the old man seemed to be the only one unfazed by Harry's sudden inhuman appearance.

Cat-eyes locked onto half-moon glasses dispassionately. Warmness battled coldness until Harry finally spoke.

"I simply stated that I knew who you were," Harry stated coolly. Disinterest and a form of disappointment were woven intricately in his voice, "I never said that I recognized the trash surrounding you."

A plethora of gasps filled the air. Quiet whispers quickly followed it and it was succeeded by heart-pounding silence.

Not even acknowledging the silence, Harry closed his eyes and seemed to be contemplating something silently. No one dared to speak in far of disturbing his concentration. It was almost as if the wizards thought that Harry was a bomb that was ready to go off at any second if touched. Even the injured—they were currently getting tended to—held their breaths in.

Molly who had been caring for Remus's wounds alongside Tonks spoke up in barely a whisper.

"I-Is that true, Harry?"

Her spoken word flew through the air like gentle wings reaching all ears. Many eyes turned upon her before returning to Harry. Their hopeful eyes prodded him for an answer. None came to them for Harry still seemed to be in deep thought. No one moved. No one breathed. No one spoke. Everyone wanted the answer to be…answered.

Jade eyes flew up and slit-like pupils were revealed.

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry said in an almost thoughtful voice, completely ignoring Molly's question, "You were able to resurrect my soul through the Chain of Fate by the means of 'dark magic'."

Dumbledore confirmed this, "Unfortunately, yes. It was the only way to resurrect you."

Harry blinked.

"It seems you've changed a lot, my boy," Dumbledore said mildly as if he was talking about the weather, "May I ask what has happened to you during your… 'afterlife'? "

Harry did not answer. Instead—oddly enough—Harry was staring attentively at Dumbledore's right hand. Sirius followed Harry's gaze but found nothing odd or peculiar.

Maybe Harry was trying to remember something? The hopeful thought crossed Sirius's mind.

"You will find out for yourself soon enough." Harry answered as he gazed at Dumbledore with a look of disdain. The expression almost made him look human—almost. His humanity was immediately marred by a cruel upturn of the lips. A smirk appeared on Harry's emotionless face.

A smirk that looked unnatural and callous. "Your death is imminent."

Sirius couldn't believe his ears. Dumbledore was dying? How could that be?

A flurry of disbelief swirled around the room enveloping everything in its rage. Sirius stole a quick look at Dumbledore—the old man did not look even a bit disturbed by what Harry had said.

"Dumbledore, your dyin'?"

"How can this be?"

"Impossible!"

"Harry, what do you mean?"

The murmurs of hurt and confusion continued to overpower the silence of the room and created a chaotic atmosphere of perturbation. The atmosphere of chaos seemed so powerful that it looked as if nothing could defeat it. Then a harsh word was spoken in spiteful tone and the room was bathed in red. The chaos became broken.

"STUPEFY!" Moody shouted. His wooden wand was extended delicately and a jet of crimson sprouted from it. His fake eye zoomed around in a crazed manner as the spell began to close on its target.

Harry did not show surprise. He did not show fear. He did not show regret. Holding his hand out towards the red stream of light, he allowed his fingers to enclose around the spell. The red jet of light quickly dissipated to smoke in his grasps. Moody couldn't help but gap slightly at what had just occurred. He was not the only one who stared wide-eyed at The-Boy-Who-Lived. All of them—excluding the unconscious, Dumbledore, and Sirius—had their mouths opened in a wide "O".

Harry stared directly into Moody's eyes as he shoved his hands into his pockets. A cold shadow of fear towered over the onlookers as Harry's eyes seemed to darken.

"Do not interrupt a conversation." Harry said with a surprisingly dull-tone—many of the wizards thought he would erupt in rage, "I do not like to rush matters."

Moody stared at him unblinkingly as if trying to process information. His bulging eye zoned in carefully on Harry and seemed to full study him for the first time. Sirius watched as Moody's eyes widened to inhuman sizes as he saw something hidden in Harry's figure that none of the other wizard's seemed to see.

"Boy," Moody said thickly with a dark frown, "You've sworn loyalty to the devil." The greasy-haired Auror continued to hold his wand out stiffly towards Harry in caution. Clearly disgusted by Allistor, Harry turned his attention towards Dumbledore once more.

"Albus," the cat-eyed boy said slowly, "Tread on carefully with your war or you will become hollow in death."

Albus grinned slightly saying, "I thank you for your advice, Ulquiorra."

"I do not give out advice," Harry stated matter-of-factly. His eyes then left Dumbledore and he adjusted his gaze to his corpse. His pupils then focused in on Sirius. Sirius stared back in slight perplexity.

The ex-convict watched as his godson slowly raised his hand and touched his index finger lightly upon the air. His eyes widened as the place his godson had touched began to ripple. The air then seemed to shift apart horizontally taking the appearance of sliding blocks. A swirling vortex was revealed from behind the drifting tiles.

"W-What?" someone stuttered in awe. Harry, not taking his eyes off of Sirius, answered the stuttering wizard coolly:

"Descorrer," he informed thickly, "It allows me to open a Garganta."

"A Garganta?" Sirius found himself questioning, "What the hell is that?"

Sirius already knew the answer though. He knew that through this swirling vortex Harry would escape—leave. Harry also seemed to know that Sirius already understood what the Garganta was for he did not answer his godfather.

Glancing at Dumbledore and then back at Sirius, he signaled that next words would be directed towards them only.

As the cat-eyed boy stepped slowly into the swirling vortex, it began to slowly close behind him—it appeared as if blocks were sliding "reality" back together. Coal eyes flickered at his godson's retreating silhouette. Sirius had to use sheer will to stop himself from running after his godson disappearing figure. He somehow knew that stepping into the vortex would mean instant death.

The blocks of the vortex continued to slide to a close until the only part of Harry left seen was his head. His pale lips parted and he said one phrase.

"You will summon me."

The vortex slid to a close and swallowed the rest of Harry's face up into darkness leaving a space of emptiness where he once stood.

The Order became deathly silent as all stared at the spot where Harry's spirit was last seen. Their lips were sewn together with a thread of quietness; their eyes held open by the sin of disbelief.

Sirius blinked once, then twice, then thrice...

All at once Sirius's world shattered to pieces and the Order of the Phoenix erupted into chaos.


A/N: Finally done with this chapter. I apologize for the late-ish update, but I have an excuse. For the past few days I've had golf practice at school and I've also had a writer's block. I managed to overcome it somewhat even though this chapter didn't turn out as good as expected-for that I once again apologize.

Thank you for the reviews! I hope you will find it in your soul to review again-

~F-x-N