Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its affiliates. *Insert witty comment here.*
A/N: Sweet freedom! I just finished school, so I wrote this chapter in celebration... So, any idea what genre this should be? Go check out my profile and vote on the poll I made. Anyway, there's another A/N at the bottom of this chapter w/a lot of answers to reviews, so this chapter isn't quite as long as it appears.
Also, forgive me if I make any mistakes about London and its suburbs (mainly Epping Forest). I've only been to London once, and when I found I needed space in the story, I researched forests in/near London, and Epping Forest was one of them. Let me know if I'm completely wrong.
~HP~
"Dragons are attacking London," Hermione informed Voldemort grimly. Brilliant, Harry thought, his anger suddenly draining away, leaving only grudging acceptance.
"We estimate there are ten of them," continued Hermione. "Public Relations is trying to move as many people to safety as possible. The Unspeakables have managed to seal off the city, and my department has shrouded it from the Muggle public eye, but I'm not sure how long we'll be able to maintain it. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was barely able to subdue one of them; it killed Macnair and knocked out two other wizards. As of now, it's unconscious.
"I've thought of performing a stasis spell, but I don't know any powerful enough to contain such a large area with so many people in it. Not to mention the dragons' resistance to magic. I can't think of any quick solution... They're destroying the city," Hermione said, lips tightened into a nearly nonexistent line.
Harry watched skeptically, fighting the urge to demand that they leave the Ministry and help now. Logically, he knew they needed to understand the situation further to be able to help the most, but emotionally… Well, he would try to stay quiet for now. Besides, for all I know this is another test. If it is, I won't just let him get killed; I'll bloody well do it myself, Harry thought peevishly.
Voldemort remained at his desk, steepling his hands as he looked at Hermione. "The Minister and the Aurors?"
"The Minister is trying to control the press, and the Aurors are investigating how the dragons got here. They aren't native…" Hermione's head jerked suddenly. "I need to go. My department's running low on energy."
"Take one of the power stones if you must. Dismissed."
Hermione nodded quickly and took off at a run, slamming the door behind her.
Absently, Harry wondered, If there's a Minister, what exactly is Voldemort? More importantly, Harry really wanted to go outside and help, but he felt he wouldn't be much help by himself, and Voldemort probably would try to stop him if he did try to leave. Then neither of them would be of any use. And in all honesty, Harry was curious to see how this mostly sane Voldemort handled the situation. After all, it's not like the Dark Lord can Crucio dragons into submission... I think.
After staring into space for a brief moment, Voldemort abruptly stood up, his jaw set. He walked over to the wall and cast a powerful Finite Incantem, revealing a large oak wardrobe. When he opened it, Harry saw that it was filled with shelves and cabinets packed with magical artifacts, with one long cabinet dividing the wardrobe into two sides. In that cabinet was a crystal ball set on a podium. Voldemort placed his fingertips on the sides of it. "London," he demanded, and Harry watched as the globe burst into color.
The Dark Lord glanced sharply at Harry as the bodyguard walked over to watch, but he quickly turned back to observing the globe intently. The scene unfolding before their eyes was disturbing. Fires littered the city, and Muggles and wizards alike ran around terrified, fleeing burning buildings, jumping into the Thames, and searching for cover in the Tube. Dragons circled the city and stalked the streets, destroying homes, setting fires, and terrorizing the people. Three were flying over the suburbs. Harry clenched his teeth. Some of the dragons were eating.
"They're not attacking each other," Harry realized aloud.
"Obviously," Voldemort muttered, not even bothering to look at the other man.
"That means they're part of a pod," Harry continued, an idea quickly forming. Voldemort flicked his eyes toward him, raising an inquiring eyebrow. "I spent a year learning about dragons," Harry explained. "Since they're part of a pod, they'll be protective of each other. We might be able to use that to get them all in one place."
Voldemort turned back to look at the miniature city, not choosing to comment on Harry's use of the word "we". Looking thoughtfully at the tiny dragons, he pointed to one standing on the roof of Parliament. "This one is much smaller than the others. Dragons are especially protective of their young…"
"True, but if I'm correct, these are Romanian Longhorns. That one's the wrong shade of green, and its horn is too long to belong to a calf. It's probably just stunted. The rest of the pod won't care too much for it." Spying a larger dragon, Harry was hopeful to see that it was a very light shade of green with a stub of a horn. It limped across a clearing of Epping Forest; judging from the blood, it looked like it had been shot at. A piece of torn, bloody fabric hung from its closed mouth. Harry grimaced. "This one, though," he started, pointing at it. "This one's perfect. If we can contain it and get it to call for help, the others will come. I don't know what we'd be able to do from there -unless you can get a group of dragon keepers to help."
"Is there a spell to imitate a dragon's distress call that we could use instead?" Voldemort sounded neither respectful nor condescending, Harry noticed. He sounded calmly urgent, as if it didn't matter that he was talking to Harry Potter, the constant thorn in his side, as if what mattered was getting the job done. It was unexpected.
"Yes," answered Harry. "But it doesn't work. Somehow the dragons know that it's fake."
"Very well. Have you learned how to contain them?"
"I think… no, that won't work with so many… Not by myself." Harry pursed his lips. He couldn't think of anything, so he shrugged, shaking his head.
Voldemort nodded. He used his wand to tap the button at the top of his robes and began speaking into it. "Nott, the Aurors need to patrol the Ministry. This may be a diversion. You may leave one or two to investigate. All of you, ask your department if anyone has prior experience working with dragons. I will keep the connection open for updates." Voldemort looked at Harry inscrutably, then walked past him to open a door that Harry knew hadn't been there a second ago. The bodyguard followed him in, discovering a short hallway with a couple closed doors that led to a small library. Voldemort turned to Harry and gestured toward a shelf containing books on magical creatures. "Research." Then he threw some Floo powder into the fireplace, speaking softly, and stuck his head in.
The movement of coils around his arm and a small hiss by his throat drew Harry's attention. "Harry?" asked Fang.
"Fang. I expected you to speak sooner."
"After the elf made me drowsy, I fell asleep. When I woke up, something hit me on the head, and I fell asleep again."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I got in a fight earlier; you must have gotten hurt then. Are you all right now?"
"Yes. Are you?"
"I'm fine," He glanced over at Voldemort then looked back at the snake peeping out from beneath his collar. "But I have to deal with some problems right now. I probably won't have much time to talk."
"Then I will leave you alone." Fang told him, before curling back tightly around his arm.
Harry sighed, turning to the books.
~HP~
Voldemort had tried to reach several different sources, but he had only been able to reach a single cryptid healer. She promised to meet them as soon as she could. Apparently she couldn't meet them right away because she was performing a difficult surgery on a zoo's chimera. Time was of the essence, so Harry and Voldemort planned to subdue the injured dragon on their own. For some reason that Harry really didn't want to know, Voldemort knew how to freeze a sea serpent in place, and he theorized that it would work well enough on an injured dragon.
The two left the Ministry and apparated to Epping Forest, using a Point Me to track the dragon from there. They walked through the forest quietly, except for crunching of leaves beneath their feet and the brief moments when Voldemort would speak into the button of his robes. As they walked, Harry surveyed the damage. A bloody, charred stench clung to the air, and he could hear muted cries in the distance. The area around them wasn't particularly dense, so the dragon had ploughed right through it, leaving an easily identifiable trail of crushed vegetation and blood to follow; there really was no need for the Point Me at all.
After a few moments, Harry broke the silence. "You know, one of my old… acquaintances was a dragon keeper. Did you try the reserve in Romania?"
"Their floo was completely disconnected…." Voldemort eyed Harry, his face betraying no emotion. "Your 'acquaintance' was a Weasley, am I correct? Part of the Order of the Phoenix?"
Harry wasn't sure how to respond. He was afraid that if he agreed, he'd put Charlie in danger somehow. His silence was seemingly answer enough, as, watching Harry carefully, Voldemort continued, "The last remnants of the Order may very well be responsible for this."
Harry grimaced, not knowing what to think. "Why? They would never put so many people in danger, even if they were trying to create a diversion. It must be someone else."
"Besides trying to weaken my administration, they've been trying to expose our world to the Muggles. They seem to think the Muggles have a right to know, or that they will be useful allies, or some other idiotic thing similar to that. They've tried exposing magic to large crowds, on national television, anything they can think of, but we've managed to cover it up…. I admit to being surprised they've gone to these lengths. Perhaps they thought they had control of the dragons and no one would be hurt. Whatever the case may be, however, they must be stopped."
Harry listened silently, still not knowing what to think. He didn't want to believe the people he'd previously thought of as friends and family were capable of setting wild dragons on London. He didn't want to believe that Voldemort actually cared about other people. He probably doesn't care, Harry thought. He's probably just worried about the bad publicity. Before he could ponder it anymore, however, his thoughts were interrupted by an earth-shattering BOOM! Another BOOM resounded from just a short distance away. Merlin's balls, that does not sound good, he thought as he started running towards the source. Even Voldemort broke into a jog.
They reached the edge of a great clearing. With a large lake in the center, it would have been peaceful, had blood, bone shards, scales, and guts not been scattered across the foliage and rippling water. Just a few yards away from them was a large metal monstrosity. A tank, Harry's memory provided him. Fu-
"Down!" Harry hissed, casting a wandless disillusioning charm on the both of them and tugging Voldemort down with him to crouch behind the bushes. He watched as Muggle soldiers stepped into sight to study the dragon's remains, worried they'd have heat-seeking devices or some other Muggle contraption that could detect him and Voldemort. He didn't know what the Muggles would do if they found two oddly dressed, invisible men hiding in the forest, especially after seeing what they did to the dragon.
"They will die," Voldemort murmured quietly.
Harry breathed out slowly, trying to tamp down his irritation and trying to figure out how to appeal to Voldemort. "No, they won't," Harry said quietly. Seeing the Dark Lord's look of rage, presumably because of Harry's seeming disrespect, he rushed on, "We don't have the time or the energy to waste killing them. Besides, it's too dangerous. There are too many of them, and you saw what they did to the dragon. That's not even half of what they're capable of."
Voldemort quirked an eyebrow. "The danger prone Chosen One is lecturing the Dark Lord about his safety. I never imagined I'd see the day…" he mused, his lips momentarily twitching upwards.
Whatever was wrong with Voldemort right now, Harry decided to roll with it. "The Dark Lord actually has a sense of humor. I never imagined I'd see the day," he echoed back, smirking. Sweet Merlin, I've woken up in an alternate universe.
Suddenly, Harry heard quick footsteps from behind them. He and Voldemort whirled around as best they could while staying crouched by the bushes, Protego on the tip of Harry's tongue.
"Thank Merlin, I've finally found you!" The person, a short, skinny brunette woman, panted. "Maggie Cross, at your service, my Lord." She didn't seem to know exactly where to look.
Harry glanced at Voldemort, hissing in Parseltongue, "Safe?"
The man nodded, and Harry dropped the disillusionment charm as he and Voldemort stood up from their crouch. Voldemort gestured for them to back up further into the cover of the woods. Once out of the Muggles' sight, Maggie faced Voldemort expectantly. The man flicked his wand at both Harry, Maggie, and himself. Harry was startled to find himself not blocking Voldemort's spell reflexively. Accepting the Horcrux as part of himself had affected him more than he previously thought, if it made him trust his parents' killer so easily. Resisting the urge to frown, he watched curiously as their robes turned into formal muggle business clothes. "In case the Muggles discover us," Voldemort explained. "Now, tell me how you've determined to subdue the nine dragons, Cross."
The woman blinked, before visibly shaking herself and pulling a cloth bag out from one of her pants pocket. Out of that bag she pulled a long, metal object. A rifle, Harry's memory supplied. "Some of my colleagues and I decided to create this. It's meant to knock out big game from a distance. Now, it is a prototype, and it's designed to take out nundus, not dragons, but I increased the amount of sedative potion in the darts, so it should be enough at least to make the dragons more manageable." She looked in the direction of the clearing, contemplating. "We got the idea from the Muggles, actually…" Her voice turned business-like again. "If you can get me in the air, I can take the dragons out fairly quickly. The Muggles might be a problem, though. I'd really rather not get shot at."
Voldemort nodded slightly. "Apparate to Parliament. We'll take care of the Muggles there."
It was rather anticlimactic after that, Harry later thought. He had honestly expected he'd have to fight a dragon again. Instead, after they went to Parliament, Voldemort placed the Prime Minister under the Imperius curse and ordered him to call off the military and to give Cross a helicopter and the best pilot they had. As Cross flew all over London and its suburbs, Harry and Voldemort tracked her, making sure she didn't run into any trouble. Once, a dragon decided to attack the helicopter. Before it could, though, Voldemort cast a strong disorienting spell on it, which lasted long enough for Cross to shoot it.
"I don't really see you as the environmentalist type. Why don't you want to kill the dragons? It would definitely be easier." Harry asked as they trailed Cross invisibly, Harry flying on his conjured broomstick and Voldemort floating along beside him (because apparently flying by broomstick wasn't dignified enough for Dark Lords; they had to float instead).
"There are few dragons left in the world. Too many potions and other supplies use ingredients from them. To lose ten would be disastrous for their population, and therefore disastrous to the economy and the people's morale."
"Ah," murmured Harry, observing Cross as she shot the last dragon. He blinked and turned to Voldemort, feeling oddly drained. Now that he thought about it, he'd only had a bite of bread for breakfast, and that had been many hours ago. "Hungry?" he couldn't help but ask.
~HP~
Now that the dragons were thoroughly unconscious, Voldemort enlisted the help of available wizards and witches from the Ministry to move the dragons to a convenient magical research center in Epping Forest. Before he gave the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures the task of finding the dragons their proper home, he ordered them and one of the Aurors to investigate the creatures' sleeping bodies.
Harry himself joined the investigation. Every dragon from a reserve was supposed to have a Blue Chip, a small magical crystal filled with information recorded by the reserve, embedded in the ankle of the animal's right leg, but Harry was unhappy to discover that each and every dragon was missing theirs. As he was informing Voldemort of this, a young female member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the investigating Auror walked up to them. "Yes, Madley? Bletchley?" asked the Dark Lord.
The woman spoke first. Harry vaguely recognized her, probably from Hogwarts. "My Lord, the dragons are in excellent health, and all of them have been well fed. They've been so well fed, in fact, that I'm surprised they went on such a rampage. Even with the shock of finding themselves in a completely different environment, they had so much food, to the point of over eating, actually, that they should have been compelled to sleep it off. Bletchley has a good theory, though," she said, nodding to the Auror.
He nodded and said, "I checked for residue from the spells cast on them, and it looks like several of them were hit by strong shocking spells just before the time of their attack."
"I imagine, also," began Madley again, "That they were separated when they arrived. That would have upset them even more."
"I see," Voldemort said. "Bletchley, search the city for the sites where they first arrived. Madley, continue investigating. We are unsure when exactly the sedative will wear off, so take no more than fifteen minutes. Dismissed."
Voldemort walked over to one of the caged dragons, Harry following slightly behind him. The older wizard circled the dragon, murmuring and waving his wand in several intricate patterns. After a moment, he eyed Harry assessingly. "What disturbs me most is that there is no residue indicating how the dragons arrived here. Any ideas, Frost?"
The man's tone somehow reminded Harry of how Snape spoke to him in his first year at Hogwarts. He felt compelled to answer, "I don't know, sir."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Come now, surely you must have some idea. Difficult you may be, but I had hoped you possessed some level of intelligence."
Harry clenched his teeth at the silky tone. He paused, thinking. Suddenly an image of Maggie Cross's magical rifle flashed before his eyes. "Perhaps… they arrived by Muggle means?"
Voldemort nodded, a pleased smirk appearing on his face for a miniscule second before disappearing completely. He spoke into the top button of his cloak again. "Granger, I need you to gather a small team of trusted Muggleborns. Investigate any possible Muggle means of transporting a dragon." A moment of silence as she replied. "Yes… No, finish what you're doing first…" Abruptly Voldemort's eyebrows furrowed slightly, something in his eyes hardening. "That is... most unfortunate, Rookwood… Granger, on second thought, before you investigate, meet me in my office. Five minutes." His cold voice brokered no argument. Harry suddenly felt worried for his old friend.
~HP~
Once in his office, Harry inquired, "Do you know… exactly, who's part of the Order now?"
Voldemort refused to answer at first, regarding Harry coldly. Harry felt some inexplicable tension in the air. He opened his magical senses, only to force them closed as he felt the Dark Lord's magic pulsing viciously throughout the room. "Someone's not happy," Harry observed.
Tension left the other man's shoulders almost imperceptibly as he released a quiet, airy snort. "Only you, Potter."
"Hmph," Harry leaned his head on the wall, staring up at the ceiling. Someone needs to treat him like he's actually human.
A knock at the door interrupted the oddly peaceful moment, and Voldemort leaned back in his chair, oozing a false sense of pleased arrogance. He looked almost lazy, but Harry could detect his magic roiling beneath his steely control. "Come in," he ordered nonchalantly.
"My Lord," Hermione said, nodding her head. Harry really wished she would stop calling him that. It was rather disgusting. At least she wasn't kneeling on the ground and kissing his robes. Ew.
"I am pleased with how your department has continued to block the Muggles' publicity. Have there been any difficulties?"
Hermione paused. She obviously could tell something was wrong. She answered carefully, "Not really. There aren't many of us, so some of the members are showing small signs of magical exhaustion, but the power stone has really helped. We'll be able to maintain our spells until the Obliviators have finished… We're considering telling the Muggles the damage was caused by an unusual earthquake." She stopped as she saw Voldemort's deceptively calm expression.
"You seem very fond of that power stone. Tell me, was that the only power stone you took?"
Hermione swallowed. "Yes, that was the only one I used."
"Then why, pray tell, are there two missing?"
Hermione froze, raising her eyebrows as she shot a glance at Harry. Eyes widening, she looked at the floor. "I don't know, my Lord," she replied, her voice firm.
"Well, you'll have to forgive me, Granger," he started saccharinely. "But I must take all the necessary precautions. I'm sending you and all those who were in the Ministry during my absence in for interrogation. Your services have been invaluable, and for that you shall be rewarded. You won't be tortured, at first. Know that I expect nothing less than your full cooperation." The unsaid or else hovered in the air between them.
Hermione gritted her teeth. "Yes, sir." Meeting Voldemort's eyes, she added rebelliously, "I have nothing to hide."
The Dark Lord eyed her expressionlessly (a look he seemed to use quite frequently), before finally nodding. "Begin investigating the Muggles. Expect to be called in for the interrogation within the next two days."
Something in Hermione's eyes flickered before she visibly relaxed ever so slightly. "Thank you…, sir." And with that, she whirled around and stalked out of the room, head held high.
Harry watched quizzically as she closed the door before turning to Voldemort, frowning. He couldn't help but say, "I don't think she did it."
Voldemort glared at Harry. "No one asked for your opinion, Potter."
"No," Harry quipped, "But I chose to give it anyway."
Voldemort seemed to be resisting the urge to roll his eyes, or at least that's what Harry thought. Rolling your eyes is probably too lowly a habit for Dark Lords. After a moment, Voldemort responded, "I don't think she did it, either." He began speaking into the button of his robes again. "Nott, tell Davis to start investigating any wizards or witches who were left in the Ministry during the dragon attack. She needs to find out if any of them stole a power stone… Good."
Voldemort looked back up at Harry, who was still standing a good ten feet away, leaning against the wall. "It appears the dragons were a diversion, after all. Or perhaps the Order was hoping to accomplish two tasks at once by revealing the magical world and stealing the stone."
"Are you sure it's the Order? I mean, it sounds like these power stones are pretty powerful. Can anyone use them?"
"Anyone can use them, but they can only be retrieved with my permission. Unless someone was strong enough to break the enchantments on them, which I highly doubt. Still, I will have to look at them myself to know."
"What are they, anyway?" Harry asked. "Just stones filled with magical power? Are they used as supplements for spells? I haven't heard of them before."
"That's because I created them. There have been several inventions like them, but each of those can only be used for a specific purpose. I've modified these so that they can be used for any purpose without limitations. I've stored so much energy in some of them that they have the energy of a hundred wizards."
"It seems like they're awfully dangerous, especially when your enemies get a hold of them."
"True, but theoretically, they can only be used with my permission."
"Hmm…" murmured Harry. Speaking louder, he said, "So dragons attacked London, which isn't too unusual apparently, and they may or may not be a diversion possibly caused by the new Order of the Phoenix or someone else of questionable nature, and/or they may be a device used to expose the magical world to Muggles caused by the Order of the Phoenix or someone else, and an incredibly powerful object that may or may not be usable has been stolen from the Ministry of Magic." And you may or may not suffer from extremely terrifying and dangerous psychotic episodes that I apparently have to prevent.
Voldemort nodded, eying Harry bemusedly.
"Brilliant," Harry groaned.
~HP~
Please do not favorite this story or favorite me as an author without leaving a review.
A/N: Seriously guys, your reviews have kept me going, and they've made me smile so much! Thank you to those of you who reviewed. Reviewing makes me write faster!
To answer questions before they're asked: Harry's not so "grr! I hate you!" to Voldemort in this chapter because he's already pretty tired from the fight, and he's hardly had anything to eat. Not to mention that his whole situation is very bemusing. Yes, Voldemort does have psychotic episodes, but you won't see many because Harry's almost always around him. Because Harry has that little Horcrux in him, his presence calms Voldemort down just enough for Voldemort not to destroy the world… though they may beat the crap out of each other in the future because that's just how they are. And when Harry's not with him… well, that's a different story. As for the whole 'pod' thing with the dragons, I took that from my knowledge of orca whales. And I know you probably wanted to see more action, but let's be honest. Voldemort doesn't like to get his hands dirty if he has someone else to do it for him.
I'm iffy about this chapter. There were a couple parts where I was like "YES!" and there were many parts where I was like "meh... ew."
Anyway, review answers going all the way back to ch.1:
Kasia: I believe I said Harry was average looking. He's under a glamour with dull brown hair, and I think he has pale blue eyes, but I'll have to check (or you could go back and check yourself).
spoonring: "
Redheads r smexy: Lol Thanks so much! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. And I looked up Fang, and he's a boarhound. I'll have to go back and change that. Thanks for pointing it out!
Azure1996: I'm glad you like it. I'm honestly not sure if there's going to be any romance, but I sincerely doubt it. The characters are pretty much writing the story for me, so I guess we'll just have to see.
Setsuna-X: "
Amylion: "
Dragonist: I stole 'zoinks' from Scooby Doo… heh.
Professor-Evans: Voldemort got most of his soul back, so he's a good deal more sane now. And let's face it, Hermione is incredibly useful, but she doesn't have the ambition to be the leader of everyone, so for Voldemort, she's a great tool. And yes, Hermione knows it's Voldemort, but remember, she lost her memories past 3rd year, which means she never met Voldemort face to face, and being the manipulative bastard he is, he easily swayed her to his side, (especially if he waved some rare, one of a kind books in her face, and some silly reforms that he didn't matter to him). Remember, though Volemort's all about blood supremacy, what he really cares about is power, and Hermione has it in spades.
misto-713: I'm not too sure about Bellatrix. I figured that now that she's had 8 years to calm the f down, she'd be at least a bit saner. Plus, she doesn't know who Harry is.
Metal.v2: Don't worry, I hate angst. The story might need a touch of it just to give it a tangy flavor (Yes, I'm comparing this to food), but I just can't do angst too much.
Tonks-is-cool: To be honest, "Syndicate" Castle just sort of came out of my head, and I decided to use it because of Vold's old Death Eater organization and they new way he's closely knit the Ministry together. If it helps, you can think it's really called Conexus Castle. "Conexus" is Latin for syndicate, so we'll just say Voldemort translated it to English. Thanks for the corrections by the way; I forget if I fixed them or not so I'll have to go back and check.
Balos: Haha, I loved your "inner child" comment. Just sayin.
awertvegtr: I already responded to this, but I'd like to thank you again. I think I'll probably go back and edit chapter 1 some more now that I have time. And Harry chose "Charles Frost", an obviously English name, because he has an obviously English accent. I know Harry's awesome, and he was able to mimic the Bloody Baron in his 1st year, but I don't think he could sound Spanish all the time, and people would probably be suspicious of him if he sounded English but tried to pass himself off as Spanish citizen Julio Arguello or something like that.
Isabelle-Eir: Hermione remembers her friendship with Harry up until 3rd year.
Glaive: "
Celebwen Telcontar: Hermione's not a Death Eater. She works in the Ministry. In this story, there's a difference. Don't forget the memory loss and the 8 years Voldemort had to manipulate her.
history: Yes, Voldemort isn't insane all the time because now he has more of his soul. But he still doesn't have it all, so he has psychotic episodes.
diesedame: Yeah, in chapter 1 Harry was a bit 'nyeh' in the fight. Harry never did well traveling by Floo, and since he used the IFN, he was pretty sick. That's why you see him throw up in the next chapter.
Cyranothe2nd: I was rereading the 7th book, and remember how angry, depressed, and upset Harry was after Ron left? That's when he found out about the Horcrux, and I figured that since he was also incredibly conflicted about Dumbledore at that time, finding out about the Horcrux was his breaking point. At least that's how I see it. And the brain damage… well, maybe the Obliviate that was cast on Bertha Jorkins was just a really bad one. XP
AnnAisu: Yes, the 'spark' was the Horcrux bond.
closedofHeart: Thanks so much! I'm afraid I may be overdoing the plot a bit, but most of it all ties together… :/
Loony Dagda: Yes, Voldemort knew the whole time that it was Harry. He was pretty pissed that Harry sacrificed himself and therefore his Horcrux again for someone else's life. Plus, Hermione thought she was influencing Voldemort to hire Frost to protect Britain, though Voldemort would have hired him anyway.