Attack and Fly
Harry didn't have time to reflect on his conversation with Remus, because he heard several angry voices coming from upstairs.
"Protect him?" he heard an angry man ask. "From what?"
"From you, James!"
"Oh my God," Harry couldn't believe his was hearing his father talk.
"He doesn't need protecting, if you ask me," said another, who sounded like Sirius.
Harry gasped. Hearing his Godfather speak again felt so surreal to him.
"I wasn't asking you!" Lily yelled. "Why do you have to be on James's side all the time?"
"Because I'm right," James bellowed. "He's going to pay and this time you can't stop me!"
"You would've killed him if we let you go to the Auror Department."
Any moment now, Harry was going to see his father again—this time alive and in a very murderous mood.
BANG!
The door flew open and bright light flooded the basement. Harry scrambled into a corner and saw James Potter literally flying down the stairs.
Lily tried desperately to stop her husband in his tracks. "NO, JAMES, DON'T!"
Harry didn't even have time to think, let alone speak, before he felt fingers wrap around his neck. He struggled, frightened at the insane look on his father's face.
"You're not my son! You died with Charlie," James gritted. "You died with Charlie!"
Harry began kicking him and felt his grip slacken. James then threw him onto the ground.
With panic, Harry saw Sirius stopping Lily from trying to curse him. She shot wand sparks into the air as he battled to rip it from her hand. Lily smacked him hard in the face.
"I'm—not—your—son," Harry spluttered.
"Stop lying," James spat, his words drowning out Lily's terrified shouts. "You came back and you killed him. You almost killed your sister. You could've left them alone and gone for me instead." James's tears fell onto Harry's face.
Black smog filled Harry's vision. He couldn't see James now, and his voice became a strange echo.
"You… you… Murderer…"
A girl, somewhere, screamed. Her voice was so shrill, so high. Harry dimly thought someone would notice her. Then everything went black.
Remus held his breath as James seemed to have realised what he had done, letting go of the boy's neck. He jerked backwards. Then he hesitantly shook his son's shoulder. "Ha—Harry?" There was no response. "What have I—?" A look of horror washed over his face. "No! Wake up—WAKE UP!"
Then Lily attacked. "YOU KILLED HIM!" She turned James around and slapped him.
Remus's heart thumped hard as he cradled Jessica.
"Nonononononooooooo!" the little girl cried.
"He's not dead," Sirius said angrily. "Otherwise the Aurors would've come through!"
Remus turned away. "Shhhh. Jessica, Harry is going to be alright."
"I don't wa-want him t-to die."
He walked the girl over to the living room and sat her down in the armchair that seemed to swallow her little body up. "Don't move from here until I say so." Jessica sniffled and wiped her cloudy white eyes with the sleeve of her jumper.
"Remus…"
He looked down. "Yes?"
"I di-didn't mean to tell Daddy."
"None of this is your fault."
When he returned to the basement he found Lily crying in a corner. James was backed against the wall with closed eyes. Sirius rubbed his temples, as though the entire event had caused him a migraine.
Remus knelt down to check on Harry.
"He's not dead," repeated Sirius.
"I heard you the first time!" Bruising was starting to blossom around the boy's neck. Remus muttered a spell, healing the boy. He learnt that little spell from his Healer wife, Anne. However, thinking about her always reopened old wounds.
James opened his eyes, and a steely look quickly replaced his horrified expression a minute ago.
"Do you want to end up in Azkaban? This family's lost so much already," Remus said calmly. Even though James glared back, he would've regretted going too far.
Sirius snorted. "I think the Ministry would congratulate him for snuffing out a big name Death Eater."
"SHUT UP!" Lily screamed.
James grimaced. "I—I'm… I'm not sorry!"
"Yes you are," Remus replied quietly.
"Stop it, Remus, I'm warning you!" he fired back.
James's heart had been torn out with the death of his child at the hand of the other. He was now a broken man. He had once been revered for his adventures, his charm and wit. He had lived life to the fullest and showered those he cared about with love and affection. He was none of that now, Remus sadly thought. The new James was a brooding fellow, snapping at the littlest mishap, annoyed at smiles and laughter.
"No matter how much you despise what he did, Harry is still our son," Lily yelled. She picked up her son's left arm, peeling his sleeve back.
"You think too much with your heart," Sirius growled.
"Excuse me?" she hissed. "You used to, too, before you became a cheap playboy!"
"I am not—!"
"STOP FIGHTING!" Remus shouted, putting a hand on his friend's chest. "Sirius, just go and call the Order in."
He knew Sirius would rather argue a bit more. His nostrils flared with brooding anger. Sirius wiped away a little bit of blood from his lip from where Lily had smacked him and left.
Remus's mind was buzzing as he looked over Lily's shoulder to see Harry's forearm. There was no Dark Mark, except for two scars that looked like puncture marks from a snake, and much less scars than they would've expected.
"No Dark Mark. He must be using a Glamour too to hide his scars and wounds."
"Don't bother with a Revealing Charm, Lily," Sirius said. "Mage magic has a different imprint— even normal spells are difficult to remove without a bit of elbow grease."
"I know that, but I'm still going to try!" she snapped back as Sirius disappeared up the stairs. Lily placed her wand over where the mark should be. Nothing happened. "Sod… he's modified that Mark Disguising Charm."
Remus nodded in agreement. It was a spell of Harry's invention and while originally the Dark Lord objected to it, it was now a useful tool for the child soldiers, known as the Conditioned, to escape Ministry investigations.
"We'll need to check that wand he stole, too," James croaked. "A few months back we heard that Harry had created a Dark spell that manipulates a wand's history, so that every time a Dark curse was used, the echo of the victim would be obscured and unrecognisable."
Remus learnt that many of the younger Death Eaters used this curse to hide their destruction. For the Conditioned, who still had trouble killing, the spell would hide the identities of their failed kills and escape punishment from their Mentors—Death Eaters who had been assigned to their training. Although, now that that charm was revealed, the Mentors were particularly scrupulous with their captives.
Lily frowned. "So… victims remain unnamed and unfound? That's one more thing you've been hiding from me James!"
He crossed his arms, and his cheeks lightly flushed. "Because you get overly sentimental about your murderous child every time he pops into our conversations."
"That's enough!" Remus interjected.
Lily huffed, before throwing Revealing Charms at the boy, which showed nothing, despite his recent Portkey travel and Remus binding him up. As Sirius had said, Mage magic hides and even absorbs remnants of magic, no matter how old it was, or as trivial as Floo travel.
She gave up and fell back. "At least his spells are helping keep the Conditioned safe."
"They're not innocent children. They're Death Eaters," James scoffed.
"They're still victims!"
Remus was on the fence about this. Yes these were victims, however now, they were brainwashed soldiers.
In the last eighteen years of war, it had become common practice, and a form of initiation for Death Eaters to kidnap half-blood and pureblooded children whose parents had angered the Dark Lord. A few didn't survive to become Death Eaters, succumbing to their maltreatment as their captors trained them. Many families of the Order had fallen victim to this barbaric practice, and Remus hated visiting these members to tell them their children had died fighting against the Order, Ministry or by their own Mentors.
Since Harry was one of the targets of the prophecy they were all afraid of this happening to him, but strangely, he had not been kidnapped, he had just walked away from their side.
Harry neither confirmed nor denied that he had joined Voldemort when he was eleven, thus leading a double life. How his actions could have escaped them all boggled Dumbledore especially. For it was an open secret that Dumbledore had been training the boy to defeat Voldemort.
The year before, Harry had walked into his bedroom and killed his brother. When he turned around and discovered that his sister had watched, he cursed her as well. They never knew why he didn't kill her. Harry was closest to his little sister and she loved him the most; for that reason, he may have hesitated to finish her off.
Remus remembered hearing Jessica's screams. They broke through the locked bedroom and saw Harry as he stood over his dead brother and screaming sister. Then he Disapparated, breaking through the enchantments of the house.
He suddenly jolted out of his thoughts when Lily spoke.
"What's this?" Lily questioned, as she felt over Harry's clothes for anything disguised. She pulled out a pouch from underneath his shirt and ripped it free. She tried to open it, but failed.
"Mummy," Jessica cried once more. The girl was becoming more and more agitated the longer they were down there.
"Come on, let's go. He'll be fine," Remus beseeched as he watched James trudge up the stairs looking utterly defeated by the world.
"James—"
"Leave him," Lily said.
He agreed sullenly.
"Wait, we can't just leave Harry here, like this."
Remus hesitated, waved his wand around and a blanket floated over Harry, with a pillow fitting snugly under his head.
She waved her wand and moment later a jug of water and a tin of baked beans whizzed over their heads, landing softly near him. "What else should we do for him?"
"Nothing until Dumbledore sees him."
The house was in darkness. With every footstep, the creaking sounds of the floorboards echoed in the destroyed rooms.
"Lumos."
Rubble had littered the corridor. As Dumbledore navigated through it he took a moment to stare at a ripped teddy bear, like it was something from a distant memory.
He then followed Kingsley, whose cloak had just disappeared around the bend. Meanwhile, Arthur Weasley had diverged to another room.
It was oddly quiet, and it made him more alert. He could smell the telltale metallic odour caused by a furious magical battle.
"Over here."
In the upstairs corridor, there were two dead Death Eaters, and one Auror who lay dying. He looked at the Death Eaters faces and found the bloodied carvings of the Deathly Hallows symbol on their cheeks. I told you not to use your old tricks...
However, it was the sight of the dead boy with white, wide eyes, standing against the wall, which got their attention the most.
Dumbledore waved his lit wand at the boy. The corpse wasn't quite Inferi. This was different.
It cocked its head as a trickle of blood escaped its nose.
"Merlin…" Arthur gasped.
"What's your message?" Dumbledore commanded as he took a step back. The light of his wand twinkled in the boy's pale eyes. It was mesmerising, haunting, but evil. "Do not touch him," he calmly told the others. "He may attack us."
The corpse moved its jaw left and right, bowed its head and rasped, "Your side is losing, Dumbledore. It is time to die." It then fell to the floor.
They gazed at it, lost for words, until something gargled behind them.
"Dumbledore..." The dying Auror coughed and wheezed. "Dumbledore..."
He crouched down. "What happened here? Where's the rest of the family?"
"They took them. We failed... Father dead. Mother to Hogwarts. She knew things about ... about the Greek, Italian Depart... Mysteries... The other children... will be condi-" He coughed, "we couldn't save the oldest… stupid boy tried to fight them."
"Yes, a shame," Dumbledore grimaced; staring at the boy's now closed eyes.
"Grindelwald... wanted Unspeak… too..."
What are you up to, Gellert? "Grindelwald didn't mark you."
"Played dead..."
Dumbledore was about to stand when the Auror grabbed his wrist.
"Come close," the Auror whispered.
"Yes?"
"What have you done?"
Paul Sommersby, a grey haired, sallow faced Auror, was regarded for his intelligence in the Ministry. This family he had been protecting had been Voldemort's target and it seems an important one to Grindelwald as well.
"What do you mean?"
"You let him loose. Why?"
"How do you know?"
"I didn't." The Auror revealed a bloodied grin. "Just a hunch... Shall I call you, Mr Cicen?"
Dumbledore looked at the Auror's hand around his wrist. It tightened.
"Your secret… will die with me. Tell me."
"I made a deal with the devil to end this war."
The Auror laughed and blood poured out of his mouth. "No. You are the devil," he hissed into his ear.
Dumbledore pulled away and watched the Auror gargle mid laughter before dying.
"Albus. Albus? What did he say?" Arthur asked.
He hesitated briefly. Relief flooded into his body at the thought of the Auror dead now. "The Order is in danger."
"When aren't we?"
A large ragged dog Patronus appeared suddenly in the room. "Harry's returned. Chickens in chaos—Potters—Come quick."
Dumbledore closed his eyes, feeling a mixture of pity and anger.
Then they all vanished with a pop.
Remus helped Lily up the stairs and made sure that she didn't look back. "I think we all need a nice strong cup of tea," he added.
"Firewhiskey—"
She froze, shoulders tensing. He followed her gaze and saw Dumbledore. He was across the living room, staring at them with mistrust.
"Dare I ask what has happened here?"
No one spoke.
"What have you done to him?" As Dumbledore asked, Kingsley and Arthur appeared. "Revenge is all too easy in this day and age, and a little restraint goes a long way."
They all shifted uneasily. There was a fierce chill radiating from Dumbledore's figure. Gone were the days in which only humour and understanding twinkled in those light blue eyes. Now, after twenty-eight years of darkness, the toll of war had taken over his kindred spirit. Now he wanted answers fast. While his decisions and tactics were to be obeyed without hesitation.
But Dumbledore seemed a little frail nowadays; he had just recovered from his defeat and did not need the aid of a cane anymore, and sometimes they wondered if his decisions were right for the Order.
"Are you all OK? Is he hurt?" Kingsley asked.
"We're fine," Remus quickly replied. "The boy is, ah, resting."
"And James?" Dumbledore questioned.
Lily sighed. "Brooding alone… Hello Arthur, any word from Molly about my boys?"
Arthur took off his travelling cloak and placed it over his arm. He adjusted his lopsided glasses over his kindly face. "I'm sure they're fine. Molly, on the otherhand..."
"Come everyone, let's talk." The old headmaster moved away. Remus mentally sighed in relief. Hopefully when Dumbledore did see the boy he'd be awake.
They sat down in the kitchen and Dumbledore waved his wand behind his shoulder, setting the kettle to work over the stove. He then closed his eyes, tapping his fingers together. "We are still not sure what occurred at Azkaban."
"Most of the escaped Death Eaters were once abducted children," Lily retorted.
"Perhaps, but they're dangerous adults now," Arthur replied.
Sirius took a seat right next to Remus. His cut lip was all healed up now. He leaned in and whispered, "We better go look for James after this meeting."
Remus nodded, but he knew where James was. "Next time, we better keep him calm."
Sirius' eyes flashed, much to the werewolf's annoyance. "You try telling him that."
"You too, Sirius."
"Alright," he exasperated with a roll of his eyes. "I agree, we went a bit too far—"
"Just a bit?"
"Look, he's alright, so let's move on and get him back to prison."
"How did he arrive here?" Dumbledore asked, cutting through the chatter.
Remus breathed in sharply and focused on the Order members. More would arrive shortly. At least the select few Dumbledore would've invited to this meeting.
"He said he Portkeyed with this book." Lily disappeared to retrieve the Portkey. She walked into the kitchen holding a large leather tome and placed it on the table. "And we can't open it."
Dumbledore snatched it up, holding it close to his long, crooked nose. He squinted, turning the book this way and that, as though he was trying to discover microscopic evidence. "Where did he Portkey from?"
Lily gave a humourless laugh and went into detail about how Harry had told them that he had come from a Mirror Universe. "He even had to cheek to ask me the names of his brothers. I know what those Atoners do at Azkaban, but I thought… I wanted to believe they weren't true." She looked concerned. "He seems a little bit… unsettled."
Dumbledore eyebrows rose for a long moment, before he stared at the book again. "Is there anything else, anything unusual in demeanour or appearance? Something that might suggest the Atoners damaged him?"
"He says has a curse scar," Remus added. This 'insane' theory was starting to look more and more plausible. "It's shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead."
"Interesting..."
Remus explained the story of how it happened. "Personally, I think an Atoner did that."
"Whatever curse it was, it has damaged his mind," Dumbledore said gently.
Lily looked absolutely shocked and terrified by Remus's information. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because he said you and James were dead."
"I'll need to see him," Dumbledore said, moving on from James and Lily's row.
"What are you going to ask him?" Remus questioned.
"Not much tonight." He played with his moustache, thinking. "He is a skilled Occlumens... that when he has allowed me into his mind, I can not tell if what I see is truth or lies. I cannot believe anything he says anymore, even with the aid of Veritiserum. I taught him a technique Aurors learn to overcome the effects of truth potions."
"We may have to use more extreme measures if he fails to comply," Kingsley said.
"Then I fear for him." Dumbledore frowned.
"The alarm hadn't been tripped when he arrived here," Lily added, growing paler by the second.
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "The alarms can be flawed. Harry can—"
"Manipulate them," finished Lily, dryly.
Remus noticed Dumbledore was looking more and more perplexed. He tapped his fingers on the book.
"Now, where's the wand he used?"
Lily took it out of her robe sleeve. "It's Holly and Phoenix feather."
Dumbledore gently took the wand, caressing it like a rare, precious object. "His Mage ability still needs controlling. I told him that."
Sirius nudged Remus hard as though they had been given a scrap of interesting news. It was the first time Dumbledore spoke openly about his relationship with Harry with the Order.
It was the period after Dumbledore lost his battle with Voldemort that Harry began to change dramatically. His power grew beyond Dumbledore's expectations and he became secretive, quiet, falling out with friends and so angry. It also didn't help that he was a Death Eater.
"He also had a charmed pouch around his neck, which I can't open." Lily dropped the pouch onto the table in front of them so that everyone could see it clearly.
"This might be easier to open."
"Why?" said Remus, watching Dumbledore flick his wand, bathing the pouch in a golden glow.
"I sense weaker magic... to be more exact, normal magic." He then pulled out the bits and pieces hidden within it: A snitch fluttered feebly about in his hand, then a shard of mirror, and a burnt and broken gold locket. There was also a letter Lily had once written to Sirius during the dark year they had hidden away from Voldemort in fear that he would kill them because of the prophecy.
"Well, I always had this feeling that it was Harry who raided Grimmauld Place…" Sirius said. He gave Lily the letter again and she perused through it in silence.
"The mirror…" Remus held the sharp jagged piece in his hands. It was the same sort of magical mirror he had used in Hogwarts to communicate with James, Sirius and Peter. Except now, there was no one friendly to communicate with.
"We'll keep that for the Order, in case the Death Eaters try to communicate with Harry." Kingsley nodded.
Dumbledore seemed disinterested in the useless artefacts, except for the Snitch, which he held up to light, and the broken locket, which he caressed in the palm of his hand.
Remus stood up, told everyone he needed a bit of fresh air, and slipped out of the house. He was itching to see if James was all right.
He travelled through a thicket of brambles in the backyard and past a wild bush of roses. Its thorns were snagging at his robes and scratching his hands. There was an old wooden fence and gate. He opened it, and there laid out in front of him was a small cobbled path, covered with thousands of clovers. He followed the winding path, past trees that looked as though they had been there for centuries, their gnarled roots creating homes for many fairies. They were inquisitive this evening and had come out to witness him walking by. Gnomes nearby were ripping up shrubs; they turned around and grunted at his approach.
This had been Charlie's favourite part of the yard.
Remus ignored the magical creatures until he finally discovered what he had been searching for. Behind an enormous yew tree laid the private burial plot of his godson. There upon the white marble tombstone read:
Here lies
Charlie Ignotus Potter
Born: 4-6-1982
Death: 2-6-1997
Taken by the blow of evil
Forever innocent in a world of darkness
The fresh flowers by his tombstone signified that his parents changed them everyday.
Charlie was a quiet boy of a studious nature. He had been a stocky child, with black hair and hazel eyes. He loved the wonders of nature and studied magical creatures with zeal and was Luna Lovegood's best friend. They would often explore Hogwarts in search of them.
Staring at the marble tombstone was James. Remus stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, hearing his friend sniffle.
"What?" James snapped.
"I want to see if you're—"
"Leave."
Remus turned around and was about to sit down on a wooden bench when he heard him speaking.
"He was studying to become an Animagus…"
"Yes." Remus whispered. He knew that James would've thought this one of his proudest moments of being a parent.
"I asked him to keep it secret. But I knew he was going to tell you."
"He couldn't wait to show me." He smiled sadly.
"Out of all the kids, Charlie was the least like me and Lily, you know. But when he asked me how to become one, I was over the moon. He was the first and only one to ask me about it."
Even from metres away, Remus could see the tears glistening on James's eyes now.
"He—he almost got it right. He was almost a fully formed boar. I even dreamt of galloping through Godric's Hollow as Prongs, with his son Hogs by his side."
"Hogs…" Remus repeated in a whisper, remembering the animal with a big wet snout and sharp tasks.
"Harry. Harry never asked. I always thought he would."
It was the first time James had spoken again about him like the lost son he was, not like some despised murderer.
"Harry looks like me the most, but he was Lily's," James touched his heart. "I had so much hope for him. He had so much potential. He was powerful in defence… he wanted to fight them." He wiped a few stray tears on his sleeve. "We fought to let him go. Lily desperately clung to him—to protect him, but he was determined to fulfill his part of the prophecy and we couldn't stop him. So why would he turn his back on us? Was it because he was cursed being a Mage? We should've had snuffed it out of him as a child when we discovered it." There was a deep, desperate longing in his voice as he rambled on.
"James, you can't stop a person being who they truly are—"
"He was such a good kid. He even cared about the house elves being tortured! I just don't understand. Why?"
Remus ached so much for him. "Nobody understands."
Then James broke down.
He walked up to the grieving father and laid a hand on his back. He wanted to make it all better, but Remus was only a humble wizard.
"Charlie would've wanted you to move forward, not dwell in the past and dreams that could've been."
James blinked at the tombstone, swatting away a fallen leaf on the marble. "You're right. I feel so disgusted that I did that to Harry. I-I just snapped. There was so much anger, so much hurt and… and I felt that words wouldn't have been enough," he sobbed.
"I know. Let's go back in."
James sighed, wiped the last of his tears and got up.
They joined the Order meeting now brimming with more members, and ignored the glare from Lily and the worried glance from Sirius. Dumbledore merely flicked his gaze upon them, before they continued their discussion on the other missing Death Eaters, and how to interrogate Harry.
Meanwhile, they were all unaware that there was someone outside the kitchen, silently opening the basement door.
Tap, tap, tap…
Harry groaned. Leave me alone, he thought. He just wanted peace and a nice dream.
Tap… tap.
"No." His hand moved through the still air. He wasn't counting on actually hitting something.
A muffled, "ow!" reverberated quietly somewhere in the void.
He opened his eyes to darkness and silence. He coughed and splattered, rolling onto his side.
"Are you awake?"
He jolted when something—a tiny hand perhaps—touched his shoulder, fumbling a bit in the process.
"Harry…" The voice was familiar.
He relaxed, though still breathing in huge gulps.
"Its m-me, Jessica." She sounded scared, maybe even frightened of being caught fraternizing with him. What would James do if he found out?
"Why—?" he coughed. "Why did you come in here?" He licked his parched lips, trying to pinpoint where the little girl's face was. He didn't like the dark, not when he was a captive.
"I w-wanted—I always believed you'd see me again."
"You shouldn't be here," Harry wheezed.
"I'm sorry for Daddy hurting you. I didn't mean to tell him."
Harry pulled back a little when her cold hand touched his face. Her hand sprung away.
"D-Dumbledore is upstairs. I hate Order meetings… I hate our brothers. They're always playing tricks on me now. I wished you never went to Azkaban."
For Harry, listening to this little girl pour out her heart to him like a cherished doll, made him feel terribly awkward.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Jessica sniffled for a moment. Her hand was back, now pulling on his long hair.
"I've missed you. You are the only one in this family who likes me. Mummy and Daddy are too busy all the time with the war, and they're always fighting. It's worse now since Charlie died. Mike and Chris used to prank Charlie… remember that?"
"Maybe."
"They never bothered with you, because you were the oldest and really good at spells. You've got good reflexes. That's what Daddy used to say when he talked about Quidditch."
Harry noticed how monotone her voice was. There was something peculiar with the little girl, but he couldn't put his finger on it. In the end, he realised, she was suffering from her trauma.
"Daddy was really disappointed when you resigned from your Seeker position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
"I did?" The words escaped him before he could stop them.
"Daddy wrote you a Howler in your third year, remember? He said you shamed him and demanded you go straight back to Oliver Wood and beg for the position back."
"Really?" He realised that his father was a bigger arse than he had imagined. "Jessica, why did I resign?"
"Some say it was because you were training to be a Death Eater. Still, your reply was funny."
"What did I say?"
"You said that there were bigger things to worry about than a game and said that if Daddy really wanted a Seeker, you were happy to play the position when you got home. The letter had a curse in it, and it turned Daddy into a giant Snitch. It was so funny. Even Daddy laughed after he turned back to normal. But I remember Daddy saying that magic was very powerful…"
Harry thought about the magic his Mirror had used. Even at thirteen he had displayed signs of great power. He himself had mastered the Patronus Charm at that age, but he wasn't that talented with transfiguration then.
The little girl stopped speaking, but Harry had many more questions.
"What was Charlie like? I—I can't remember, you see."
"Charlie was always in his books. He used to hug me tight and tickle me. But Chris and Mike pranked him all the time. He didn't like that much. Now it's only me. They play jokes on me. I don't like that…"
"I think they're just trying to make you smile. There's no harm in that."
"I don't like it," she repeated, "I could curse them. But I've been very good, Harry, like you told me to. I haven't forgotten your words, remember?"
She was pulling his hair hard, almost tearing it from his scalp.
This randomly intriguing conversation was turning a little too scary for him. Harry pulled her fingers from his hair.
A bright light suddenly blinded him. The girl held a lit wand to her side. Harry backed away. Was this her vengeance now? He had already suffered his father's.
"How do you—?" He couldn't understand how a little girl knew so much magic. Would the Ministry of Magic swoop down and punish her?
"Remus and Sirius have been teaching us magic, don't you remember? The Ministry dropped the age again after Hogwarts closed so children over five are all taught at home. Sometimes we learn in groups with other kids from the Order. We have to… It's to prepare us for the bad things out there… I train with Timothy Bracken from up the road."
"Tell me more."
"You really don't remember much, do you?" Jessica said slowly, sucking in air between her large front teeth.
He could see her face now, almost that of a ghost's, all white, and her eyes reflected his face like a mirror. She reminded him of the Grey Lady who stalked the castle late at night. She was always sobbing, but her eerie sounds and monotone words stuck to the walls like moss.
"Did they do really nasty things to you in Azkaban?"
"Yes," he guessed.
"Mummy and Daddy won't talk to me about it. But I heard stuff. I sometimes listen to them talking."
"Like what?"
She shrugged in the light of the wand without a single blink.
"I heard that the Aurors are very bad. And the Atoners are the worst part of it all."
"Atoners?"
Jessica blinked at him. "You should know who they are."
"No, I don't. I'm from another world," he finally said.
She smiled. "No, you're not! I'm not stupid. You're my Harry. I've heard people say you're crazy."
Harry was a little unnerved by such confidence in her statement. "Sorry, Jessica…" He decided to keep up the charade. "Tell me what you know about the Atoners…"
"Sirius said they're a second class of Aurors. They are criminals working for Umberige… very bad people, who, instead of going to prison, work with the Ministry to keep the bad prisoners scared."
Harry scowled at the thought of Umbridge having a tight hold on power here.
"Harry did you see child prisoners in Azkaban?"
"No." Harry shrugged.
"Dumbledore doesn't like that You-Know-Who's child soldiers are kept there… he's had several fights with the Minister about it."
Harry did not like the sound of this world one bit. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.
Then she sighed. "I missed you so much."
"Me too," Harry gulped.
"Do you remember that picnic when we played in the woods at the end of Godric's Hollow? Mummy and Daddy weren't fighting or calling each other awful names! Charlie was alive and you were there. We played football and then I got bored and got lost in the woods…" She sighed. "I thought I'd never go home… never see you all again.
"But you found me, Harry, and you smiled. That was the last time you smiled. You took me back home. You never let go of my hand..."
Tears began to glisten in her pale eyes. "Mummy and Daddy fight and cry all the time. Then Mummy always tests my hair every day, but she won't tell me why. She always looks scared to be with me after she does it. I can't see well, but I still see. Why does she test my hair, Harry? She started doing it after Hogwarts closed. Is there something else wrong with me? Is it the black that smells of death?"
…The black that smells of death? "I don't know," answered Harry, a bit concerned for her now.
"You always tell me you don't know, but I know you do," she sniffled.
He watched the little girl blink slowly, tongue running over her large teeth.
"Jessica, Mum and Dad love you very much. Mum is just doing that to make sure that you're okay."
"You… you think so?"
Harry nodded.
"But—but they don't love you. They hate you. Everyone does."
"I did something bad. But they love you very much," he repeated.
Those words had an effect on Jessica, more than Harry could've imagined. She seemed to relax, her ghostly complexion warming a little.
"I'm sorry, Harry, for everything. I'll continue to be good when you're gone."
This was it, he thought suddenly. All the thoughts of the little girl vanished and in came the possibility of dying or being injured. He wasn't sure how experienced in spells the girl was. And in any case, what could she do?
Instead, Jessica dropped the lit wand by his side and stood up carefully, hands feeling the wall so she could balance properly.
"I saved your wand. Mummy kept it hidden from everyone. You better go."
Was this really happening? Was the girl letting him escape? "I can't just go. I need to speak with Dumbledore!"
"They will hurt you, Harry," she warned. "Dumbledore will make you talk. He doesn't like being lied to."
"I can show him my mind."
"It won't matter, Harry. Dumbledore will never trust what you show him. You hide your secrets. They'll lock you away again. I've heard Mummy takes care of Death Eater prisoners that the Order has tortured."
Gob smacked by the turn of events Harry watched the little girl go up the stairs. She left, leaving the door open a touch so that he could see the light shining through.
Harry's heart was beating so hard it was in danger of blasting out of his chest and bouncing onto the dusty floor. He could free himself and run, but where to? I'll hide out, then maybe go to The Giant's Cut and figure out a way home, or maybe somehow communicate with Dumbledore, he thought. He didn't know this world's Dumbledore, and for all he knew, he could be hostile just like James had been hours before.
Harry's shaking hand reached out for the wand. It looked familiar, and as soon as he had touched it a strange buzz radiated from his fingertips, filling his entire body. He let out a small gasp.
The wand was made of yew. And he instinctively knew it was a Yew and Phoenix feather wand.
Horror-struck, he dropped it. Why was it his wand?
There is no time to worry about it! Harry berated himself. Just pick it up and move. Harry quickly Disillusioned himself and escaped.
"It's settled then," Dumbledore said.
"I still don't think this is right," James said out loud, playing with his glass of Firewhiskey. The ice within it had already melted. He felt so uneasy.
"James, we need to decipher where the boy's loyalties lie and time to examine his agenda. We never had the opportunity."
"Still a waste of time," said Sirius, crossing his arms as he rocked back on his chair. "He was uncooperative in Azkaban, so there's no way he'll start talking now—"
"Yeah, not unless we torture him," Tonks said. "I've been taught a few good curses at work. Head Auror MacCloud is forcing us to learn them."
"Nymphadora, that technique will only be used as our final resort." Dumbledore wasn't impressed as he darkly glared at her. "Kingsley, I want the Order's interrogation tactics reviewed. We are getting a bit heavy-handed with our captives as of late."
"Sure thing, Dumbledore," the dark Auror replied.
"Whatever we do, it won't work on him anyways," said Sirius. "Besides he sounds a bit mental now. I'd be too, if I was stuck in Azkaban with that mob."
Dumbledore nodded. "It's plausible that he's been damaged whilst in Azkaban. If he is broken, we may shape him into a good man again."
"Good? After all he did?" James scraped his chair back, pointing his finger towards a happy portrait of Charlie sitting on top of a cabinet. The black-haired boy waved to them all. Wisdom twinkled in his hazel eyes.
Charlie had had the worst sense of humour of all in the family. Even though he was the least like his parents, the boy was more like his grandfather Harry, who had been a portly man with the trademark knobbly knees of the Potters. Harry had had an immense library of old books in his house, all musty and worn out from being reread hundreds of times.
He died when James was young, though he could still remember sitting on his lap, listening to the rosy-cheeked old man read him the story of the Deathly Hallows and other tales. He remembered the perfectly trimmed white walrus moustache, with only a hint of black still in it, while his hair was completely white and stuck up at odd angles.
Dumbledore didn't blink. "We will never forget."
Professor Flitwick tapped his fingers on his chin. "But, what if what Harry says is true? What if he is a Mirror Harry Potter? Do you want to condemn an innocent boy?"
"It's so rare it's ludicrous to even suggest that we believe this story," Arthur pointed out, patting his shiny forehead with a serviette. James wholly agreed with him.
"I agree with Dad," Bill added. "It's unlikely that anyone could travel into a Mirror Universe these days… once in a thousand years, maybe. There's no recorded history of it, only stories from around the world. You should know—"
"But such travel is possible! Why else would Ministries outlaw it?" squeaked Flitwick. "There is one legend that happened here."
"Yeah? I don't remember learning about it," James retorted.
"Well that's because it is a legend mostly only Ravenclaws know of and fiercely protect."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "Filius, please—"
"Rowena Ravenclaw liked to experiment with Mirror travel in a cave, somewhere in the Highlands. No one has ever found it though, from memory."
"Hang on," Remus interrupted, "Harry said he was looking for a diadem in cave before he was transported here. What if it was that cave—?"
"A diadem?" blurted Flitwick. "Ravenclaw had a diadem as well—"
"Stop and listen to me, all of you." Dumbledore held his hand up and regarded them all carefully. "Harry is a very resourceful, intelligent and dangerous boy. He knows how to thwart us."
"I'm surprised he wasn't put in Slytherin then," Sirius added.
"Would you be shocked, if I said the Sorting Hat almost placed him there? But the Hat also said he would've done well in the other houses too." Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid I did train him in the arts of manipulation, and to seduce with lies. I also trained him to investigate as an Auror would. He knew about this legend because I told him… I told him of many others about the Hogwarts founders, and it seems he has used this particular story to great effect this evening."
James ran a finger on the rim of his cold glass, wondering how legends of the founders would be useful in the war. He knew there was so much Dumbledore wasn't telling them about Harry. James wished he had been more totalitarian in getting his son to spill the truth about what he was doing for Dumbledore.
A clock chimed somewhere within the house as Flitwick sneezed rather loudly. Dumbledore placed the book which Harry had brought with him carefully beneath the table and onto his lap.
"I am sure the boy has made this story up to gain our sympathy. Two plausible theories I reinstate to you all: One, this may be Voldemort's plan for the boy to attack us as we help him. Or two, Harry has genuinely become unstable, and this story of Mirror travel is a figment of his broken mind."
Kingsley agreed. "Harry's not mentally well. In the last few Azkaban reports, he has attacked prisoners and graffitied his cell walls with blood."
"Oh God!" Lily whispered, suddenly gripping James's arm.
"Others have gone completely insane. In the most recent example, Umbridge—"
"Kingsley, don't say anymore. I don't… I don't want to know what they've done to him," Lily said.
"But they deserve what they get," Sirius spat. "Do you think those prisoners cared when they tortured or murdered their victims?"
"There is a line we must draw," Remus said. "When Aurors and Atoners… and Order members act like Death Eaters then they're no better themselves." Remus shot Tonks a reproachful look. But she still looked unfazed about using torture, in James's opinion.
"Being on our side doesn't make them right in whatever action they choose fit. Otherwise there's no difference between good and evil," Dumbledore said.
Kingsley shook his head gloomily. "I've seen some of my men change, especially the new Aurors. They want to do good, protect people, serve out justice. Then they slowly change once they've seen the corruption and evil within the Ministry. They bribe, torture and blackmail and have even killed in cold blood. We can't even question it, unless we want to end up in Azkaban."
"It was only a suggestion," griped Tonks. James saw her hair turning mousey brown.
Kingsley bowed his head. The Auror was one of a few wizards in the Order still firmly rooted within the Ministry. However, there were many others still working at the Ministry that sympathised with Dumbledore and had not braved themselves to take the Order's oath.
Dumbledore clasped his hands. "So we will question him, hopefully without drastic measures, and then hand him over to the Aurors of Nurmengard."
The rest who had joined for the meeting agreed.
"For now, let him rest." The headmaster got up, ending the meeting. Everyone burst into conversation amongst themselves.
"James." Dumbledore placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, steering him away from the small group. "I'm worried about you. It's a shock, I know, seeing Harry back."
He was hot-headed and reacted too fast, but he didn't want to dwell on what he had done. "Albus, what if we can't open that book because Harry is hiding something in it?"
"I'm going to investigate that and the stolen wand too."
"Are we sure that this boy isn't a Mirror?"
"Quite sure. Many people in Azkaban have lost their minds. I knew one who thought she was Cleopatra reincarnated."
He thought Dumbledore was right as James had the sudden urge to sneeze, but that vanished when they noticed the basement door was wide open and whipped their wands out. As James's brain started functioning again, Kingsley brushed past him, bolting halfway down the stairs. The room was completely empty. No Harry anywhere.
A/N: The code word for an Order of the Phoenix member(s) in trouble is 'chickens'