A/N: Sorry it took so long – I've been super into my new game and it's hard to drag myself away to do anything else. Even though I have already beaten it once and am very close to a second one. Thankfully, it has a lot of replay value.
Look at that. Lucky number seven. And am I the only one having trouble replying to reviews? It gives me a 404 outdated link error every time I click to reply. Thus, I have to go the long way around, going to my stories and going to the review section to pick the one to reply to.
The pain in his scar will not fade. Harry can not forget that there is something wrong, even if he wants to. He's good at ignoring pain, but it is a constant presence. It wears at him on and on and on until he is starting to loose his patience. Madame Pomfrey can not find out the cause, and if Dumbledore knows anything, he's keeping his mouth firmly closed. Sometimes he feels like the old wizard is simply waiting.
He just does not know what for.
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Hermione is not oblivious to Harry's declining mood and patience. She wonders about his lingering pain, but there's little she can do. There is no headache medicine, muggle or magical, that seems to help him. Every once in a while, he becomes short with her and intolerable to everyone else. He admits once that it's less the constant pain that is driving him up the wall, and more that he does not know where it comes from. Pain usually means something bad – your body's attempt to yell at you to 'stop' what you're doing because it's possibly harmful to you.
The fact that there may be something wrong with him worries Harry more than Hermione thought normal. It is not in a childish way but something more.
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Out of everyone who may notice what she's doing and say something about it, Hermione had not expected it to be Neville.
Granted, the boy got along with Harry relatively well and they had talked often towards the beginning of the year. He doesn't seem to be particularly close with anybody. He still pulls her aside one day and asks her if Harry knows that she's been researching him.
She defends herself and down plays the work she's done to figure the other out. Neville frowns at her and seems to obviously disapprove. Before she leaves, he says, "Harry is really private and secretive, Hermione. I think you should feel lucky he let you know as much as you do. If you're not careful..."
It's the first time she's heard him speak firmly and without stuttering. She leaves, and pretends she doesn't feel a little guilty as she does so.
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She brings it up to Malfoy, of all people. She feels very unfortunate that the muggle-hating Slytherin is pretty much the only person she can talk to about Harry. She has to be careful doing so, of course, but he's the only one who seems to want to know what Harry is hiding as much as she does. Admittedly, he seems to want to know what he's hiding for more than simple curiosity.
"Nosy?" He repeats her incredulously, "Of course it's nosy, Granger! Don't tell me you thought prying into somebody else's closely guarded secrets was simply some sort of challenge?"
"No!" She shoots back, "But... I don't know. Maybe he keeps it secret for a good reason?"
"I don't doubt that," Draco rolls his eyes and shrugs, "I'm Slytherin, Granger. I just simply don't care if he's got good reasons or not."
"That's horrible," She glares at him.
"And yet here you are, sitting across from me and trying to do the same thing. What do reasons or intentions matter?"
0
She thinks that maybe she's been trying too hard. Some of the things she's read from that mysterious book Draco had found sounds nearly impossible and outlandish. A secret war? Impossible. There's no way that an entire war could be 'secret', not on the scales the book describes. Creatures created from the souls of the dead? It's been proven that you can't bring back the dead in any way, shape, or form. A small handful of 'warriors' to protect the world? Hardly. Especially when it's a muggle war.
There's also the fact that she is starting to become self-conscious. Draco is, as she has established several times, not the nicest or fairest of people. If she is working on his level... does that mean she's sunk down to being the same?
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Final Exams are a breeze for Harry. Even with his stabbing pain constantly distracting him. After all the fuss everyone puts out about them, he's very glad when they are over. His mood is only minimally improved though, and Hermione mistakenly believe that one of the reasons he's upset is because he does not feel he did well on them. He assures her that isn't the case, but he allows himself a little time to relax in peace.
0
Everything always seems to come back to Voldemort for Harry. It is why most people look up to him. It is why he's famous in the Wizarding World. And he's beginning to think it's the reason his scar just won't leave him be. The dreams being pushed on him are a big clue, though, and every time he dreams of the evil Dark Wizard, the feeling that he's missing something grows.
It's extremely frustrating. He doesn't want to be sucked into any kind of altercation with the other, even if he did kill his birth parents. He doesn't want to loose his way or forget what he's even in Hogwarts for. He just wants to complete his school years in peace and put the skills he learns there to good use.
He does end up asking Hagrid again about how he'd won that dragon egg, though. And because of that, he learns that the half-giant had slipped up and spilled the way to get past Fluffy to somebody else. Just as he does to Harry – music puts the three-headed dog to sleep.
He's not stupid; he tells Dumbledore about it all. The Headmaster watches him with twinkling eyes and says, "The stone is safe as long as I am here."
Before Harry leaves, though, the old man adds softly, "Although, if I am not..."
He says nothing more and Harry frowns but lets it go.
0
Harry realizes what the other had been trying to hint at when he feels a spike in his pain and goes to find Dumbledore after particularly bad nightmares and feelings.
Only to discover the old wizard is no longer at the school.
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"Harry, you don't even know that was what he was trying to hint at," Hermione tries to reason desperately as she hurriedly follows his startlingly swift pace through the halls alongside Draco, who had been with her when Harry had come stomping in, "You can't honestly think he wants you to go doing something like that."
"He's always had ulterior motives," Harry snaps, his hands balled and his eyes narrow, "No. That's incorrect. It is more like he simply has a plan for me, and he's trying to make sure I follow it."
"I know he's always had... a particular interest in you, but he wouldn't ask you to go into something so dangerous, Harry!"
He rounds on her, shoulders set, and in a deadly calm voice says, "Did I ever tell you that Dumbledore tried to kidnap me when I was seven?"
That stops them both in their tracks.
"...W-what?"
"I don't know what he wants from me," He turns and starts along again in the same, swift way, "But living anywhere but with my muggle relatives was not in his plans. When he realized that he couldn't do anything about it, that I would not be the same boy he had expected me to be when I came here... That I wasn't going to go recklessly jumping into whatever mess he's trying to get me to clean up..."
He doesn't even finish. Hermione is itching to ask him to, but it's Malfoy who drawls, "So what? You're going to fall right into this supposed scheme of his?"
"I might not want to go along with him," Harry replies coldly, "But he knows I can't just sit still and do nothing either."
"Why not?" Malfoy demands, "Whatever you think Dumbledore wants from you, other adults wouldn't expect it from you. It's their job, not yours."
"I don't know if this could be considered my job or not," Harry says wryly, "He is suppose to be dead..."
Hermione almost trips over herself and Draco's eyebrows shoot up. They had not thought Harry meant the traditional term of 'exorcist' when he'd said it, but if that had something to do with dead people or those meant to be...
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"You're crazy," Draco snaps, "I'm not going. You can go get yourselves killed if you want to."
"But Malfoy-" Hermione is cut off by Harry,
"You should both stay here. I probably won't be very long."
"And there's the reckless Gryffindor courage I've been waiting to see," Draco sneers, "Who else but Harry bloody Potter could think they're going off to fight with the Dark Lord and not worry about dying? Or even curfew."
"I'm getting tired of all this Gryffindor-Slytherin crap," Harry rolls his eyes as well as his sleeves... then pauses and throws off his cloak, "Think whatever you like. As long as you don't go telling people."
"Who, me? I'm no tattletale, Potter," Draco pauses at the look he receive from both his companions, "Alright, well. You can't prove it, at least."
"You can't do this on your own, Harry," Hermione pleads, "What if something happened? What if? Nobody would know until it's too late."
"But if you go, then I'll have to watch out for you and you'll probably get in the way."
She has to hide the sting of his words. No matter how business-like his tone is, she does not like to think she'd get in the way. Harry is smart, but she's smarter.
"If you don't take us with you...I'll... I'll..." She fishes for something to say, to threaten, "...Then I'll tell McGonagall what you're planning."
Harry stares at her sharply.
"'Us'?" Draco exclaims, "I said I wasn't going, Granger!"
"Unless you find yourself indisposed for the rest of the night," Harry shoots back, "One good thing about magic is that it's a lot easier to simply knock someone out."
"Did you study how to make sure I remain unconscious the rest of the night in your extra studies?" She glares fiercely, "If you want to take that chance..."
0
She's not surprised when he tries to sneak out two hours before the time they'd agreed on. He scowls and glares at her for her stubbornness, but has to accept that she's outmaneuvered him. For now.
Draco is where they had agreed to meet up, just as early as Hermione had warned him about. She had convinced him to do so, promising that he did not have to come along. They simply needed him to do one thing for them and then he could go. She suspects that he only agrees because he doesn't want to be completely left out of whatever big adventure this is.
He pales at the sight of Fluffy. He looks as if he might flee; he might have, if Hermione did not shove Harry's wooden flute into his hands.
"What is this?" He demands.
"Music puts it to sleep," She explains, "We just need you to make some music until we're inside. Then you can run."
"I wouldn't run," He flushes, embarrassed, "I don't even know how to play a bloody flute!"
Harry opens his mouth in annoyance when the creature realizes they're there. It begins to waver, though, when music begins to float out of the end of Draco's wand.
"Think more like a witch, you stupid mu-"
"Unnecessary," Harry cuts him off with an elbow to the ribs. He internally lets the would-be insult go, if only because the Slytherin is obviously quite frightened.
Hermione drags Malfoy along with them as they edge around the sleeping dog and carefully nudge aside it's paw. The trap door squeaks a little but the creature doesn't seem to hear. Harry jumps down first, and after a moment calls an okay from the darkness.
Draco, who had kept his eyes on the giant three-headed dog, does not expect the harsh shove he receives into the hole.
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"What in the bloody hell did you do that for?" Draco practically screeches at her after they land.
"You're not the only one who can play dirty, Malfoy," She fumbles for her wand.
"You realize that now I have to watch him now too, right?" Harry sighs, exasperated.
"I swear, when we get out of here-"
"You need more than just me to watch you, or you'll end up doing something stupid. I just know it."
She can pretty much feel his glare after that. She's not sure she's thankful or not for the distraction when the floor starts to move.
0
Harry thinks the 'Devil's Snare' is very ironically named, and he doesn't really appreciate the irony. While it wraps around him, tightening it's grasp harder and harder, he vaguely wonders why it never occurred to him that there might be more traps beyond Fluffy.
It's rather stupid of him, when he thinks back on it. It does not help that though he can recognize the plant from Herbology class, he's not entirely sure what to do with it. Draco gives out a tiny, choked scream that sounds rather funny to Harry, but he's fallen into warrior mode and feels an almost abstract sort of concentration focused solely on his survival instincts.
Before he can start wrenching free and destroying it, Hermione hisses at them to stop moving. Draco is not as receptive to the idea as Harry is. Which is why, by the time Hermione has fallen through and thrown up an artificial sun to cause the plant to shy away, Draco falls heavily and has to take many deep breaths to catch the air that it had been squeezing out of him.
"You scream like a girl," Harry mentions in an off-handed sort of way as he stands from the crouch he'd fallen in.
"On of these days – Potter I swear – You and your bloody -" Malfoy gasps between breaths.
"I could take offense to that," Hermione almost shakily brushes herself off while Draco pulls himself from his embarrassing sprawl on the floor.
"Well, you didn't scream at all," Harry pauses for a moment, "That's refreshing."
0
Harry spots the key with the broken wings almost immediately. While he eyes the room for anything dangerous, Malfoy sullenly points out the broom the was there. It was as if someone was daring them to try and catch the key. Or just making it easy.
Draco is the one with the most experience on a broom. As much as Harry had enjoyed his time on one, he doesn't know that he has enough skill to catch the key, and Draco brags enough about the lessons his father had given him.
Harry decides that it's not as easy as he had first thought when all the keys seem to turn to attention. Some seem to attack Draco, some flee. Harry calls to catch the one with the broken wings while the Slytherin curses rather impressively under his breath.
Hermione frets a tiny bit. She fires a couple spells at the keys but the chase is so fast that it's really rather hard to avoid hitting their companion as well.
To all of their annoyance, once Draco actually caught the key, they all turned on them. Draco practically skids off the broom, running for the door with wide eyes. It takes a moment to stick the key in the door and turn it, and as soon as he turns to shout at them to hurry their bloody arses through the door he witnesses the wave of winged keys slamming into Harry's protego.
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"What?" Harry frowns as Draco stares at them as they leaned against the door in the next room.
"...That was a spell that's a few years ahead of us yet," The other stares some more.
"I told you he does independent study," Hermione grouses.
"...Just how much have you two been talking about me, anyway?" Harry asks with another frown.
"...Is this a giant chess board?"
"That's a horrible way to change the subject, of course it's no-" He looked around, paused, rose and eyebrow, "...Why is there a giant chess board in here?"
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"Who in their right mind would make a trap out of a chess board?" Harry complains under his breath as he seats himself on a knight.
"Dumbledore, apparently," Draco takes the king piece, "I always knew he was a bloody wanker-"
"Draco!" Hermione snapped, "And why are you taking the king?"
"Because I don't want to die, Granger," He snaps irritatedly, "I'll only get hit if we loose, and we better not loose."
Hermione huffs and takes the place of a rook.
Harry briefly wonders if he could get away with just destroying all the pieces, but then the game begins.
0
Draco likes chess, Harry's skill is merely from practice with Lavi and Suman Dark, and Hermione is surprisingly bad at it. Harry collaborates with Draco on the moves to make, ignoring the cold sweat on the back of his neck. He quietly wishes that Lavi or Bookman were here. They would have wiped the floor with the stupid chess pieces and Lavi probably would have struck a funny face at the opposing king, making the whole mess that much less tense.
Or his teacher. Cloud Nine was very intelligent for a beast tamer in a circus, if the way she kept up his studies were any way to go by. Then again, she would not have let him be there in the first place.
He's glad Draco took the king, but he worries for Hermione, who most certainly couldn't destroy opposing pieces when she needs to. Or so he thought, before she blasts one apart and gives him an impatient look afterward.
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Unfortunately, Draco and Harry are not expert chess players, so when it comes down to the endgame and they have to make a sacrifice to win, it's not a surprise. It's not really a sacrifice he's willing to make, though, when it's Hermione standing in the way. Even Draco hesitates.
She calls the move herself and Harry curses her for it. Draco does too, later, insulting her stupid Gryffindor self-sacrificing tendencies.
The opposing piece slashes right through Harry's protego but thankfully lands at Hermione's feet, rather than in her body. It still sends her from her feet, though, and she doesn't move when she lands. The rubble from the small crater lands about her feet and Harry's blood freezes for a moment.
So when he's positioned across the opposing king, he doesn't much care Draco is still there and destroys it with his Innocence. The sound and the tiny pieces it makes is rather satisfying.
0
Hermione is dazed but otherwise unharmed. Harry worries she might have a slight concussion, but Draco argues that surely her hard head saved her from such an injury. She mutters under her breath at them both and swears off chess.
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The next room holds naught but purple fire, a table of potions, and a riddle. Harry's is rather proud to note that he and Draco figure it out very quickly, and he does not doubt Hermione would have done the same if she could think but a little clearer.
He decides to cut their adventure to an end. Hermione is possibly wounded and Draco is not the brave sort. Hermione is not in the state to clearly argue, and Draco is not willing to.
Harry swears to be careful and makes the Slytherin promise that he will do the same while getting Hermione back to the medical wing quickly. Before they part, Draco says,
"You better not die, Potter."
"When I finally die, it definitely won't be because of some wanna-be Earl," Harry ignores Draco's skeptical and confused face.
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The final chamber holds a mirror and a certain turbaned teacher.
Quirrel tries to bind Harry with ropes. Harry is swift and dodges, suddenly alarmed, but lets himself be captured the second time. They are but normal ropes and easy to free himself from whenever he would chose to do so.
Quirrel likes to talk, he finds. He mentions how Snape was an easy scapegoat since nobody really likes him, and how he hates Harry but hates Harry's father more, for they had gone to school together. Harry does not particularly care, if he were to be honest. He remembers what he had told Snape, though, and wonders if his father has anything to do with why Snape hates the world, if he really has carried a grudge so long.
The teacher admits his connection to Voldemort, saying that when he had failed to steal the stone from Gringots, "he punished me ... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me."
"He's suppose to be dead," Harry shoots back, eyes narrowed.
"In body, perhaps," A voice from Quirrel hisses.
"Once the body dies, so do you."
"Yet I am here," The voice replies, "There is more to life than a body, Potter."
He thinks that this must be some sort of trick. It would have to be. There is only one person who can affect the dead.
"Who tried to bring you back?" He demands, "And why... why would the Earl put you in a body with someone else?"
"We know of n-no Earl," Quirrel frowns a little, "L-Lord Voldemort is not so weak to have been k-killed by a baby, Potter."
"Let him see," The voice slithers through the air, cold and strange to Harry's ears.
And so he watches as the turban is unwrapped, revealing the face on the back of the others head.
0
Akuma do not affect a body in such a way. There can be only one soul to a body. The Earl is the only one who can bring back the dead. These things run through Harry's head at high speed, over and over. His only explanation is that Voldemort never died – but that somehow he attached his soul to something else before he could truly die. Thus, there would be no akuma and no Earl, but he's not really wiling to believe that. No matter how much the other denies knowing an Earl.
Quirrel forces him to stand in front of the Mirror of Erised, asking what he sees.
"Nothing you would care about," Harry holds his head up high as he watches Komui patting his head and Lenalee smiling widely at him. "What do you want with the stone?"
What else would he want, but eternal life? Voldemort laments on his lack of body, claims that there are always those willing to share with him. Those who would open their hearts and bodies to him. About how he's had to use Unicorn blood to keep himself alive.
The thought of what the Earl might be able to do with such an object highly frightens Harry. Because the Earl is an enigma, because nobody knows what his real plan or goal truly is, it's hard to say what he'd do with it.
Perhaps imagining that is what causes him to want the stone. He wants to destroy it, to make sure nobody else can use it, least of all Voldemort or the Earl. When the image swirls and he suddenly sees his reflection dropping the stone into his pocket, and feeling the same, he quietly wonders why. He tries to remain focused and not give any signs that he has it.
One look at what remains of Voldemort, though, and suddenly the other seems to know.
"Kill him! Kill Potter! He has it! He has the stone!"
0
Whatever Voldemort or Quirrel was expecting, it is not Harry breaking the ropes that still bind him. It also isn't the flare of green fire and the appearance of what Harry's knows is his Innocence.
"What kind of power is this?" Voldemort demands angrily.
"One you could never have!" Harry exclaims, falling into a fighting stance he feels very comfortable in.
Perhaps the problem with his training is that he naturally prefers his physical training rather than his magical one. It never occurred to him that when he would get into an actual altercation he would nearly forget, completely, that he even owns a wand. Still, the burning effect was new.
His head is killing him with the pain, he can't hardly think straight. He's glad that he has long learned fighting instinct and that he doesn't need to think to be able to punch somebodies lights out. Still, he has never before burned somebody by touching them.
Touch turned his head into a world of pain. No matter how badly Quirrel is burned by it, Harry doesn't think that pain in return is a fair trade. Still, the teacher seems to have taken a leave of his sense and does not go for his wand. He tries to grab at Harry at first, and Harry's first thought is 'capture', followed by 'pain'.
When he grabs Quirrel, he does so with no intention of letting go. He cannot effectively capture the other without contact, and he cannot let him go. He simply wants the pain to stop, but he cannot let this... creature... go.
He cannot.
He will not.
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He does not realize, at first, when Quirrel turns into ash. Even then, he stumbles for a while, confused, looking around through bleary eyes. He stumbles, falls, then forces himself up and starts tumbling towards the exit. He hits somebody he doesn't recognize, and doesn't remember hitting the ground.
0
The first thing he sees upon awakening is Dumbledore's face. It is old and wrinkled, as usual, and he swears the others eyes twinkle more than usual.
There is much concern expressed, but Harry doesn't particularly care to hear it.
"You wanted me to go after the stone," He accuses.
"I did," He had not expected the other to admit it so easily.
"Why?"
"Because you are the one meant to oppose Voldemort, mister Potter," Dumbledore looks a bit sad, then, clasping his hands together, "He could not even touch you, as I'm sure you noticed."
Harry frowned, slowly sitting up. The hospital wing is as he remembered it, and empty other than them.
"Why couldn't he?"
The explanation is farfetched. Harry is not sure he believes it. His mothers love? Perhaps her sacrifice, for it is a terrible and powerful thing in many cultures and powers.
"And the stone?" He asks.
It is being destroyed, he is told. Nicholas Flamel and his wife are ready to move on and shall do just that, so that the stone and it's dangerous powers may be forever taken from this world.
"And Voldemort?"
"He is neither dead, nor alive," Dumbledore says gravely, "As he is now, he can cause no harm. He will continue to attempt to return, I'm sure. But for now, he is gone."
"There's shouldn't be anything between 'dead' and 'alive'," Harry grips his bedsheets, "There is only akuma. But I don't think that's what he was."
"I doubt he received any help from the Earl," The other shook his head gently, "Magic can be great, and it can be terrible. It is powerful in all aspects. He has not yet truly died, and so he is not beyond life."
"I don't want any part of your war with him," Harry shook his own violently, "Stop trying to manipulate me into your troubles."
"I'm afraid that hardly anything is as simple as you might think it is," The Headmaster smiled gently, kindly, "You are a wizard, Harry, and this is as much your world as the one you believe is yours. If you try to ignore him, you will fail."
"Then he can come to me," He snaps.
Dumbledore gives him a small, sad look. As if he feels bad for Harry, as if he knows life and the things it hold far better than he. He hates it. It makes him feel small, as if he really is a child. He is not a child.
Or so he keeps telling himself.
