Into the Roil, Chapter 1. Written 4/25/15
The night was cold, and oddly still. The deaths of fifty of my classmates at the hands of the Death Eaters and their allies had a way of doing that. Even so, the night was unnaturally calm.
The first step towards the Forbidden Forest, and the final trek towards journey's end - that was the hardest. I knew what was coming. It really could not end any other way. Prophecy or not, I knew it would always come down to this. In the end, It would always have to be just me and him, just me and Voldemort, and no one else.
No more people would die for me. I had seen the faces of the dead as I left the sanctuary of Hogwarts. I recognized Colin Creevey, Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. The scariest part was that I didn't recognize many of the others. There were people fighting and dying for me, people that I didn't even know. That was sombering.
Hugging my invisibility cloak tighter to my body, I made my way down to the dark forest. I was careful to not make any noise, and I held the hem of my robes up to my mouth to prevent my breath from misting and giving me away.
I was determined, yet scared. I had never backed down from any challenge. I had always done the right thing. I was loyal to a fault. I was brave. A true gryffindor. These are the phrases that some people would remember me by.
A martyr.
I shook my head, clearing those thoughts. Truthfully, I was bloody terrified. I knew this had to be done. Knew this for a long time. The longest time. Perhaps ever since the end of the fourth year, when I saw Cedric Diggory brutally murdered in front of me, and Voldemort resurrected. I knew, one day, that it would come to this. In the back of my mind, I always knew. Maybe even before that.
I continued walking down the grass, doing my best to stay away from Ginny, who was comforting a girl in her dying moments. I had to resist the urge to reach and and touch her one last time...
It was ironic, in a way. The answer had been with me since the beginning. When asked about how I knew Parseltongue, Dumbledore had speculated that I had gained some of Voldemort's abilities when his killing curse had backfired on me as an infant. He hadn't explicitly said that I had actually became host to a fragment of Voldemort's soul, his unwilling Horcrux, and yet it all made sense in retrospect.
I briefly wondered if everything would have been different if Voldemort used a severing curse instead. Perhaps I would have died cleanly and without recourse.
Now, I was a Horcrux. The missing link. I was at the end of the line in our Horcrux hunt. For Voldemort to be mortal once more, all of his Horcruxes had to be destroyed. In the case of a Horcrux contained in a living creature, destruction of the container meant death.
I wasn't even the last one. Nagini was still alive, but I had faith that the others would deal with that snake soon enough. And then that merely left Voldemort himself. The greatest wizard of his generation. Even so, no one was infallible. He could be defeated, that much I was certain of. Who would be the witch or wizard to strike the final blow? That, I was uncertain of. I envisioned fifty of us lining up in the line and all casting at once… he was bound to get hit by a stray spell eventually. If I had to place a bet, I would say Shacklebolt of McGonagall, but I wouldn't live to see it happen.
The forest was dark. Darker than I remembered, and I didn't dare create any light. In the distance, I could see a fire, no doubt where the Death Eaters were regrouping, waiting for Voldemort's deadline to come and go so they could finish sacking the school.
I stopped walking. I could feel dementors, a whole host of them, some distance away. The cold gripped every inch of my body, and it took all of my will to not turn around that very second. It reminded me of the Quidditch game against Hufflepuff… the only time Cedric Diggory had ever beat me. It was ironic, in a way. Cedric's death was the beginning, and mine would be the end.
I reached into my pockets and pulled out the pouch that contained the snitch - the one that I caught in my very first game, and the same one that Dumbledore had willed to me upon his death. Knowing the headmaster as I did, it was clear that everything he did was for a purpose, even if it was one I didn't understand.
My fingers fumbled on the drawstring for a second. The nerves in my fingers just did not want to cooperate. My body didn't want to continue on, but I had to.
I open at the close.
This was it. This was the answer. I was breathing hard and heavily, and I could see my breath in the air from the dementors' icy aura. I was trying to prolong the moment, but everything seemed to be speeding up.
I pressed the golden snitch to my lips and whispered, "I am about to die."
The shell broke open instantly. I knew what was inside before I saw it. I lowered my shaking hand inside and pulled it out. With Draco's borrowed wand, I muttered "Lumos," and kept the light close to my body.
The stone was black, with a jagged crack running down the center. The Resurrection Stone. The line representing the Elder Wand was split, but the triangle representing the Cloak - my cloak - was still visible, as well as the circle for the Stone.
I understood what I had to do without even having to think about it. I was not bringing them back, for in a few moments, they would be fetching me.
I closed my eyes and turned the stone over in my hands three times.
I knew it had happened. I heard slight movements around me, and could feel the slight shifting of the earth that suggested frail bodies moving around on the ground. With trepidation, I opened my eyes.
They weren't truly ghosts, nor were they flesh. They had an ethereal quality about them, but they were neither real nor imagined. They were something in between, something that could only be accomplished with a great feat of magic. Memory made solid, similar to what I had seen in Riddle's diary, but something so much more.
My dad James was the same height as me. He was wearing the clothes in which he had died in, and his hair was messed up, much like my own.
Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger. He looked far healthier and happier than I had ever seen.
Remus was younger too, and not nearly as shabby as I had last seen him. His hair was thicker and darker, and he seemed to be happy to be back in a familiar place. No doubt he had spent a fair amount of time in the forest.
Lily seemed the happiest of them all, with a wide smile. She pushed her hair back as she drew closer to me, examining my face as though she would never see it again. I got a good look at her, and I was thankful to note that she looked nothing like Ginny. That would have been awkward.
"You've been so brave," she said. I couldn't respond. I was trying to burn the image of my mother into my brain forever, so that I would never forget until my dying breath.
"You're nearly there," my dad said. "Very close… we're so very proud of you."
"Does it hurt?" I asked after a minute.
"Dying? Not at all," Sirius replied. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."
"Not very easy then," I retorted with a smile.
"He will want it to be quick," Remus said. "He wants this to be over."
"I didn't want you to die," I said suddenly. "Any of you. I'm sorry… right after you had your son, I'm so sorry…"
"I'm sorry too," Remus replied. "Sorry I will never know him. But, he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. We are trying to make a world in which he can live happily."
"I'm afraid of dying alone," I admitted. "You'll be there for me?"
"Everyone dies alone," Sirius said. "But, you don't have to be alone when it happens. We'll be with you until the very end."
"They won't be able to see you? I asked.
"We are a part of you," my dad replied. "Invisible to anyone else."
I looked at my mum. "Stay close to me."
I set off. The Dementors' chill slid right off me, as if my ethereal companions were my own personal Patronus guardians. We marched on, treading through old trees and dense, knotted shrubbery.
Clutching the cloak even tighter to me, I walked towards the fire in the distance. I hadn't realized how large it was, having been able to see it from a distance, but I must have been a mile into the forest by now.
I felt oddly disconnected with the world. My body felt like it was acting on its own accord, working with my instructions, as if I was a passenger in my own body. My dead companions were more real to me at the moment than the living back at the castle. Without them, I would not have made it this far. My body would have surely given out.
I could see figures in front of the fire, their bodies cast long shadows that stretched into the night. I couldn't make them out yet, but any one of them could have been responsible for the murder of Remus, or of Colin.
There was suddenly a thud and a whisper next to me. I had nearly walked right into Dolohov, who was standing as a sentry.
"Someone there?" he called out. "Invisible?"
Another figure emerged from a nearby tree. Yaxley. "I definitely heard something," he said. "Animal?"
"Could be," Dolohov admitted. "Merlin knows what kind of beasts that oaf Hagrid keeps back here."
Yaxley pulled a watch out of his pocket and held it up to his face, peering at the hands in the moonlight. "Time's nearly up. We should go back, find out what the plan is next."
They both turned around and head back towards camp. The thought came across my mind quickly. It would be so easy, to kill them both right now where they stand. I was fairly confident I could cast the Killing Curse right now. All things considered, I was intimately familiar with the spell.
No, I was not here to take out as many Death Eaters as I could. My goal was much more singular.
I followed after them, knowing that they were going to exactly where I was going. It didn't take long to arrive at the clearing where they had made camp. I recognized it as the place where the monstrous acromantula Aragog used to live. All that remained were the remnants of a few burnt up webs and a lingering smell of decay.
The assembled group of Death Eaters were a grim lot. This was the culmination of everything they had worked for in the last several years, but still, even for them, it was not easy. There weren't that many of them, twenty perhaps, but they were all cold-blooded killers, every last one of them.
I spotted Fenrir, skulking in the shadows, honing the edges of his long nails. Two large burly Death Eaters sat off behind him, casting large shadows down on them all. Rowle was holding a rag to his lip, which didn't look like it would stop bleeding any time soon.
Lucius Malfoy and his wife were there as well, both looking terrified and apprehensive. Bellatrix sat next to her sister, and she was the only one, beside her master Voldemort, who didn't look worse for wear. Harry noticed that it seemed like the Death Eaters had taken almost as bad of a beating as the defenders had, and only a handful of them still sported masks that were intact.
Voldemort stood in the center. No doubt he found things such as sitting to be beneath him. He rarely showed emotion, but even he had a pensive look on his face. All eyes were fixed upon him.
His head was bowed, and he gripped the Elder Wand in front of him. He looked deep in thought. Behind him, Nagini stirred within her floating cage made out of gilded light, like a halo.
Voldemort looked up when Dolohov and Yaxley rejoined the circle. "No sign of him, milord."
The Dark Lord's expression did not change. Slowly, he shifted the Elder Wand between his long, spindly fingers. I could see the Death Eaters tense, as they noted their master's change in posture.
"My lord - " Bellatrix began to say.
Voldemort cut her off instantly with a slight gesture from his hand. "I thought he would come," he said. "I expected him to come."
No one spoke. They all seemed to be nearly as scared as I was. I could feel my heart pounding, threatening to burst through my chest. My hands sweated profusely as I pulled off my invisibility cloak and stuffed it beneath my robes.
"It seems…" Voldemort said slowly. "That I may have been mistaken."
"You weren't," I said, stepping out into the clearing. I tried to say it as loudly and strongly as I could, and I hoped to not project the fear I felt into my voice. I stepped forward once more, leaving the ghostly images of my parents behind. Nothing mattered but me, and Voldemort.
The illusion was gone as if it never existed. The giants that were just outside the clearing roared to their feet, and the Death Eaters jumped up instantly. There were gasps of shock, surprise, and even laughter.
Voldemort froze where he stood, but his eyes found mine. He stared at me, even as I moved closer. Nothing but the fire separated us.
I could feel the weight of my wand against my chest, but I made no move to draw it. I could see that Nagini was too well protected, and that I would get killed before I even had a chance to draw my wand.
Voldemort tilted his head to the side, contemplating what my appearance meant. A small smile appeared on his lipless mouth.
"Harry Potter," he said very softly. "The Boy Who Lived."
No one moved. The Death Eaters were waiting. Voldemort raised his wand.
I could feel my heart pounding. It felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute. thwump thwump thwump thwump, threatening to burst through my chest. I was finding it hard to breathe, as if I was suffocating, but no such thing was happening.
My head was throbbing, and there was a whistling sound that was getting louder and louder, threatening to engulf the entire clearing. It kept going and going, and I was waiting for the crescendo to happen. It felt like I was moments away from fainting, but I knew I was moments away from dying. I knew it, as surely as I knew myself, I knew I was going to die.
Spots appeared in my vision, and the forest began to blur. Voldemort raised his wand, and then there was a flash. A familiar green light. Death.
Death was awfully quiet. There was no sound. The whistling sound was gone, the forest was steady, the Death Eaters watched on in anticipation. But the atmosphere was still oppressive. It felt like my blood was beginning to boil, and I could feel my migraine building, and my magic was groaning and protesting. Sparks flew in my periphery, indiscernible, but definitely real.
The speed of death was relative, but it felt like an eternity stretched before me as Voldemort spoke those two magic words, from the time the Killing Curse took travel the distance from his wand to me.
My mind worked in overdrive, protesting every fraction of every second of this course of action. I didn't see my life flashing before my eyes, instead I saw something else.
My life has always been unfair, almost from the onset. From the time my parents were killed, till the day I arrived at Hogwarts, my life had been shit, but it had been all I'd known. I had learned that I was hailed as the Boy Who Lived, due to some ancient magic my mother had invoked when she sacrificed herself to save me.
I had never thought of myself as special. The title of Boy Who Lived meant nothing to me, but it came with expectations, certain preconceived notions about what people who never met me thought I should be like.
I didn't stop Quirrell from stealing the Sorcerer's Stone because I was the Boy Who Lived.
I didn't save Ginny and slay a Basilisk because I was the Boy Who Lived.
I didn't save my godfather from the Dementor's Kiss because I was the Boy Who Lived.
I did all that because I was Harry Potter. And despite all that, I always felt like I was destined for something more, something bigger and grander than stopping some madman, something beyond being the fairy tale hero. I had always hoped that there was something else I was meant to do.
And there was.
I felt it within me. It was the sound I heard before. I didn't realize it before, but it was me. It was the sound of raw, unadulterated power coursing through my veins. I felt it, like a magnitude ten earthquake, I felt it. It bristled through my fingertips, up my arms, and to my very core.
I did not want to die like this, and apparently my body agreed. The amount of time that had passed from Voldemort's spell leaving his wand until this moment had been infinitesimally small, but the speed of my thoughts were far quicker. There was only one thing I could do, so I did it.
I let the power out.
It exploded out of me, rolling in spectral waves of pure magic, washing away the darkness, purging the clearing of evil. I couldn't control it - didn't even try do.
The sound was loud this time, very loud. There was screaming and yelling, and I realized a belatedly that I was the one screaming as the magic poured out of me, threatening to destroy my entire being.
I continued to roar, pushing the magic further and faster, until the very ground itself was coalescing with the essence of destruction. I could see Death Eaters disintegrating from where my wave of power tore through them. Giants were swept over onto their backs, and quickly eviscerated. The trees themselves were wiped from existence.
Even stranger still, I could feel something happening to my body. Effervescent wisps trailed from my arms and legs, raw magic as it filtered out of my body, but a new sensation was stirring inside of me. Was I burning out, literally and figuratively?
I blinked, and suddenly my mind was elsewhere. My solid body was gone, instead, I was a cloud of energy, branching out of the mortal world, stirring in the between realm.
Was I dead? Was this what it felt like for Voldemort when he got torn out of his body?
No. Somehow, I knew this was different. That I was different. I could see the Earth below me, but it was unlike any picture that I had ever seen. It, like myself appeared to me as a cloud of efflorescent color, blues and red, and greens, and more - colors that no human eye could accurately describe, yet I understood them and saw clearly.
I knew, somehow, instinctively, that this was Earth. It felt familiar. I could feel the familiarity of the magic, unlike the other globes of pulsating magic that I saw in the vast void that stretched around me. At first, I thought I was in space, perhaps in orbit looking at the Moon, but I quickly discounted that. I could see other entities like the Earth, other objects that had their own distinctive look and smell and feel.
No, this wasn't space. This wasn't something in the physical world. This was something in the realm of magic, something that normal people, even witches and wizards, had never comprehended.
I could feel the rich magic of the worlds. They were far, but I had lost sense of time in my current form. I knew I had enough power that I could make it to one of those other places, but I could also feel the taxation on my power, even as is. I could feel that my magic was fighting the void around me, fighting to stay coherent and to not get ripped apart to nothingness.
I didn't know what I was. But whatever I was, I was something else. I was more than the Boy Who Lived.
I had transcended.
It happened quickly. I hadn't had much control over what was going on, but once I had locked onto one of the other worlds, I felt my form of raw energy travelling the distance, and a few seconds or hours laters - I couldn't tell - I was somewhere completely different, back inside my own body.
Before I could regain my senses, I was vomiting all over the ground. Blood mixed with my puke, staining the lush green grass red and brown. I heaved for several minutes as my body convulsed.
Apparently, I had survived the killing curse. Again.
Groaning, I turned to look up at the sky, and suddenly felt the world invert around me. I was on the ground, and looking up into the sky… I saw more ground.
I blinked twice, suppressing the urge to vomit again. Then, I looked again, steadying myself.
There, in the sky, was a vast expanse of floating land - what looked like part of a forest, and what could have once been a stronghold of some sort, and it was just floating in the air.
Around it, I could see these out triangular-like stone blocks hovering in the sky of their own accord, and the space around them rippled with unknown magic.
As I looked around me, it seemed like the very ground beneath my feet rippled and roiled, begging to be torn free. In one direction, I saw a vast forest, stretching for as far as my eye could see. In another, I saw an endless sea, the deepest blue I had ever seen. And beyond that, a vast mountain range, stretching up into the sky and brushing the stars themselves.
"We're the hell am I?" I wondered out loud, awed by what I was seeing. "What the hell am I?