Long time no see.
Chapter 6
"Destroy my wand."
A day had passed since their "imprisonment" in Grimmauld Place. Harry was well taken care of by a fussy Madame Pomfrey who had no trouble smacking his hand if it even began to inch towards the coffee pots or the sugar cabinet.
During the lonely hours when Snape was locked up in his room and Harry had no company except for the four other occupants of the house, Harry often searched for either Remus or McGonagall (as Moody wasn't the greatest conversation companion and Madame Pomfrey tended to prod him with every other word she spoke) in hopes of eating a light snack together or simply talking about the Wizard Government in comparison to the Muggle one.
It was nearing lunch time when Harry found a rather red apple sitting near McGonagall and decided to have it for himself, not without asking of course.
Then he settled down in a comfortably cushioned seat across from the woman and abruptly requested:
"Destroy my wand."
McGonagall's hand froze and she slowly lowered her book, "...what?" she hissed, so sure she had misheard him.
Harry rolled his eyes and leaned forward, pressing against his knees, "Please destroy my wand, Professor."
"... Potter... do you understand what babble is spilling from your mouth right now?"
Harry did not answer her, but instead, very patiently, said, "Please destroy my wand."
McGonagall breathed out, looking up to the ceiling and muttering lowly under her breath. She then placed her book aside and smiled kindly at the young detective, although the strain in the smile was obvious, "You're tired Potter. I see the circles around your eyes—"
"L," Harry pointedly corrected.
Exasperated, McGonagall shook her head and absently flicked her wrist dismissively, "Potter, Harry, L—either way..."
"I'm afraid," Harry interjected quickly, sensing McGonagall's thoughtless rejection and digging through his mind for a way to make the witch see his way of things, "I don't have the time for pleasantries."
"None of us do Mr. Po—...L."
Harry nodded in understanding, but pursed his lips and bowed his head slightly, "... please destroy my wand."
The elder woman leaned back into her chair, her resolve weakening with each request the young man made. Thus, she let out a heavy sigh and placed her hand over her cheek and looked at the unruly black hair sullenly, "... stubborn," she called and Harry raised his head to meet her eyes, "You do realize that without your wand you will, virtually, be unable to cast magic? Defensive or otherwise?"
Harry smiled softly and bobbed his head in a small nod, "Hopefully there will be no need for it... only terrible things occur when I hold a wand."
Terrible... but great.
McGonagall narrowed her eyes, "... I won't destroy it Po—L... but I will keep it safe."
Slightly irritated that his request was turned down and compromised, Harry made a face and a noise, but in the end still conceded and agreed, "Very well," he muttered, before perking up considerably and leaning over to balance on his toes, "Oh, and another request."
"Yes?"
"I will take a temporary leave tomorrow. I want to have a packed lunch."
A beat.
McGonagall seemed to take this in slowly and she blinked rapidly as she repeated, "Leave? Packed lunch?" then gathered her wits enough to hiss out a, "Excuse me?"
"One question at a time," Harry dully answered with a small smirk on his face, "but thankfully I have an excellent memory. Yes, I will leave; yes, I require a packed lunch; but no, I cannot excuse you just yet—"
"Don't you play around with me, Potter!" McGonagall snarled, and Harry discreetly pulled back as he saw the hissing feline in the woman.
Dropping his former smirk for a sullen face, Harry slowly, but sternly, said, "I am not playing around Professor. I am always professional and very serious."
And McGonagall slumped as if her anger rushed out of her like air from a balloon, leaving the her calm and relaxed, "L," she sighed, "just what do you want? Say so clearly or I will deny your request."
Harry frowned and chewed on his thumb thoughtfully, "Hn... I want to see our..." he paused for effect, "dubious allies."
Confused at his obscure wording, McGonagall mirrored Harry's frown and blinked rapidly in thought, "Dubious...?" then it flashed into her mind like a lightning bolt, shocking her entire senses and stiffening the woman's body as her lips pulled into a thin line, "Do you mean the centaurs?"
Harry smiled subtlety. McGonagall is an intelligent woman, "Yes."
And without hesitation, McGonagall answered, "No."
"Hn," obviously troubled by this immediate rejection, Harry moved onto another finger and restlessly nibbled on its peeled skin, "The centaurs are warriors," he started, "Star-struck and likes to babble inanely..., but warriors nonetheless. They will be useful in the war."
"But they want nothing to do with the war!" McGonagall argued heatedly and Harry answered that heat with his own, "And neither do I, but, alas, here I am now!"
Struck speechless by the indirect accusation and the fiery glare of cold, dark eyes, McGonagall found herself unable to stop Harry as he stood and stared down at her impassively, "I will leave tomorrow. Do not stop me."
No... McGonagall would not have the will to.
"This is a mistake, Potter."
"... no. I've made one mistake too many. This must not be a mistake. This must be the last fight."
"And it will be. Whether we win... or we lose," and a small, hollow smile spread over her white lips, "We have no more second chances. Remember that Potter..." and with quick, practiced movements, McGonagall exited the room with the soft 'thunk' of the door following her.
Harry stood there, between the two seats and near his half-eaten apple, warmed by the fire's blazing heat. With a finger he absently traced the scar that lie hidden beneathe his hair, "... ... my name is L, Professor."
And he fell back into the seat, hearing the ancient springs groan under his weight. With a hand he covered his heavy eyes, staring intently into the darkness and taking in the comforts of the fireplace warmth against his naked feet.
With this, Harry fell into a deep sleep.
"Here's your 'packed lunch.'"
Harry smiled wryly and politely took it from Remus's outstretched hands, "Thank you." Although I was just joking... "Where is Shen?"
Remus waved a hand, tiredly leaning against the kitchen counter and yawning loudly, "Snape's asleep," then he smirked, "Don't worry, we won't fatally wound him while you're out or anything."
"Unamusing."
Remus snickered, but it died as quickly as it came and the exhaustion came back, "Do you need me to apparate you there?"
Harry shook his head, "No need. McGonagall made me a portkey."
"Where is it?"
"Over there," and he pointed at an unassuming, bronze house key lying near him on the dinner table.
Remus hummed thoughtfully, "Why don't you go and hold onto it? It won't be good if it left without you."
Harry nodded wordlessly in agreement and reached over to grab the key between his forefinger and thumb, but as soon as he grasped the key, he released it, dropping it to the floor and doubling over and pushing at his temples.
"Harry!"
And green eyes behind soulless black flashed.
Harry? Yes. He was Harry Potter! Boy-who-lived—
only to be defeated by Voldemort—
Harry Potter! A Gryffindor—
only an escape from Slytherin—
Harry Potter! A hero—
masked by lies and pains and so much regret—
Harry Potter! The one from the Prophecy—
and he will die because of it.
A gentle, warm hand was resting on his shoulders, firmly shaking him and calling out something over and over again:
"Harry! Harry! Harry!"
Harry?
"... L..."
Remus blinked and pulled his hand back in surprise, "... Harry?"
And Harry twitched, pulling himself back up and looking up at the anxious, tired face of Remus, "I am L."
I not will die as Harry Potter.
Remus gulped. Being a werewolf, his animal instincts surely must have alerted him of Harry's threat. Then the man gasped and jumped back with a outstretched finger, "L! The Portkey!"
Without a second thought, Harry snatched the Portkey and groaned as a warmth probed at his stomach and the back of his mind. A scorching, untouchable sort of heat... akin to the burning of magic coursing through his veins as sure as blood—
MAGIC!
And with the sharp pull at his navel, Harry recognized the presence taking rightly residence in his mind, begging and hurting for his attention...
It was his magic.
And Harry smiled serenely, raising a hand and placing it over his feverish scar.
It was over.
And the presence disappeared.
He would not accept a wizard's life... not one of lies and unjustified duties.
"So I will return after this is over. I will be L for life."
L for Life, Light, Love, Lily.
"Is this... the forbidden forest?"
The unpleasant screech of an unknown bird answered him, but Harry paid no mind to it. The forest looked beautiful in the early morning with the shy sunlight peeking through the leaves of the dense trees. The soft moss covering the forest floor was easy to walk upon and the few fauna that sprouted from his gaps flourished and glowed vibrantly with exotic colors
Harry didn't go out very often anymore; not only was he busy with his cases, but he was also had the greatest fear of being recognized by someone of magic...
So this sudden rush of beauty in nature calmed his heart and mind, draining away all the aches and heaviness from his pale body; a task that even sweets could not accomplish.
However, this peace was short lived.
Harry fought down a smirk that threatened to grace his lips at the sharp jolt that ran through his nerves when a sharper edge of steel dug into his skin and a soft, breathy voice sounded behind him, "Be you friend... or foe?"
"... ... ... ... neither."
The sharpness pierces.
"However I seek friendship," Harry rushed, not moving nor speaking afterwards, he only listened to the deep breathing of the figure behind him.
The sound of horse hooves clapping at the ground echoed through the small clearing and Harry felt a body press against his arm and heavy locks of brown hair swipe at his cheek. Due to the closeness of their bodies, Harry was able to peek out at the corner of his eyes and see the torso of a strong, well-built human male, and the roan and powerful body of a horse. A centaur, Harry looked away, was this a God-given chance, or something much worse?
The centaur kicked at the ground and pulled back, finished with his study of the awkward human, "We do not care for friendship with humans," the voice changed as its breathy quality disappeared and was replaced with coldness, but the piercing pain at Harry's neck was removed, "A centaur-wizard joining is only going to end in tragedy, says the stars."
Harry stood silently.
Without any thought of the other, the centaur continued, "I apologize for the injury given to that other wizard man, but he was proving to be a threat."
"I don't believe," Harry started cautiously, turning around to face the centaur at the same time, "Charlie Weasley was trying to harm anyone."
The centaur narrowed his eyes and lifted dust and moss with his menacing kicks and claps. He made a gruff neigh that resembled the growling of a furious lion more so than a horse, "We will decide that, human. Now, leave, before it's too late."
"... too late? Too late to leave? ... are you... talking about this forest?" Or... is he...?
The roan centaur raised his head and stretched his neck, looking up at the blue sky with a pensive look, "... the stars..."
"..."
"... they will tell you, someday."
Harry sighed, "We need your help."
And the centaur shook his head, backing away from the man, "War only destroys, kills, and erases. It is meaningless to us. We centaurs will take no part in it."
... I can't argue with that logic. Harry smiled softly, but then it fell into a tight-lipped frown as he recognized that logic to be the truth of the matter, "Yes... it eradicates everything. But what would you do if I told you... the Death Eaters are planning to destroy this forest?"
The centaur bristled, his tail flicking and muscles taunt, "You lie," he hissed, powerful jaws clenching together and grinding teeth, "They cannot destroy this forest."
"And that is where you come up short and become a hypocrite."
The centaur jumped, hazel eyes clashing against limitless black, "What?"
"Centaurs—," Harry started, slowly, taking a step forward and drawing himself up straighter. What mattered now was appearance. Who stood before the other, not in the ladder of social status... but in the power of will, "... no... the inhabitants of the Forbidden Forest have the main argument of 'Humans do not understand.' But in the end, we're all the same."
"What are you...?"
And in the blink of an eye, Harry felt the light fur of the centaur's body against his chest and he wrapped a hand against the staff of the spear, gripping it until his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into the wood, "It would do you good not to underestimate humans."
The centaur looked down at the human. He was a small man in size... but what was this overwhelming feeling of authority and power from him? And the centaur found himself unable to tear away from his grip and eyes, "... is that a threat?"
And Harry smiled in answer, a bland smile that did not reach his eyes, "No, it's a warning," and he released the centaur, stepping back and walking towards the narrow passage between two trees, "I'm afraid I have business now. I hope the stars will guide you," he laughed dryly, "Goodbye."
And he disappeared behind the foliage of the trees.
Harry never looked back, he kept heading forward with a growing feeling of satisfaction in the pit of his stomach. He did what he came here to do:
To leave a thought behind.
"And he'll think about it. That's how minds work. Centaurs, vampires, wizards, muggles, whatever... they're all the same in the end."
And Harry stopped, running his hand up and down the rotting bark of a tree, smelling the earth and feeling the gentle wind, "The threat on their home will force them to act. Not only because their scared and defensive... but because it's happened before."
Yes...
Deforestation happens regardless of animals and the very balance of the world. It happens out of want and want and want but all it builds up to is nothingness. A world of limits and ugliness.
"And if the centaurs truly hate mankind..." Harry broke the bark off the tree and discarded it upon the ground as waste. He did not even give it a second look, "they will know just how ruthless and selfish we can be."
And the clouds rumbled in the sky.
Harry looked up, watching, through the gaps of the leaves, the monstrous black clouds engulf the wispy white, "My... the worlds is dark today."
"You heard him, Apshod, Vega."
The bushes rustled as two centaurs appeared behind them, each armed with bow and arrows that were now being tucked into their quivers.
Apshod, a dark centaur with milky hair and bright eyes, scoffed as he looked towards the clearing where Harry disappeared, "Do not stress, Cain. The human, he bluffs."
"But what a strange wizard."
"A wizard?" the other one, Vega, with a chestnut coloring and stout legs snorted, "Surely he is a muggle."
"I cannot tell the difference, but it is peculiar behavior for a muggle not to question our existence."
"A wizard then," Apshod agreed, "A peculiar wizard, however, all he said were nothing but lies."
"Hmph, then you will tells so to the Tribe Leader," Vega smirked, straightening his shoulder and peering at his companion from the corner of his eyes, "However, we are not responsible for whatever scars you may earn for speaking so plainly out of place."
Sparks flew and Apshod growled deep within his throat and began to kick at the ground, fists clenched and eyes flashing.
"Friends," Cain intervened, coming in between them with raised hands, "at ease. We must return. The sky is turning dark."
"Very well," Apshod grunted, "I will go ahead," and he quickly galloped into the dense thickness of the forest. Cain nodded and turned to face Vega, handing him a short dagger from within a calico pouch at his side, "I will follow him. Mark our trails, Vega," and with swift, agile movements he also disappeared.
The sky rumbled above and Vega breathed, smelling rain and lightning, "A wizard... a peculiar wizard," and unbeknownst to him, a jocund smile spread over his lips, "Jupiter is unusually bright..."
The ground was wet due to the short-lived rain storm that watered the forest. Harry sat in a tree, sheltered under the thick leaves from the rain and wandering eyes as he tapped on his notebook and spied on Hogwarts, "Hn. The time is 0927 and yet no movement to the breach in the wards. The Death Eaters have grown sloppy," then he paused, tapping his pen against his cheek and his toes fiddling against the tree, "Or... they simply couldn't change the wards. Voldemort might have added the Death Eaters into Hogwarts' protection system... but he cannot remove past magic. Hm," Harry quickly wrote this all down, "This is only easier on us."
Harry was watching the castle, expertly perched on a tree not even a good 30 feet away from Hagrid's Hut (which is now abandoned.) Although Harry had no intention of taking part in the next raid, it didn't mean that was any excuse for him to be useless. He was insightful, inquisitive, and sharp. The least he could do is help strategize and gather minor information.
"The wall of the Astronomy Tower looks lonely. And that's where the Gryffindor Tower should be. Window's broken... obviously Voldemort did his best to oust Gryffindors from Hogwarts. In fact..." Harry frowned, leaning forward and looking over the great expanse of Hogwarts' grounds, "no students outside the castle walls and no visible student activity inside the castle. Undeniable imprisonment."
And Harry released a heavy sigh. He was having a heavy feeling in his gut. He didn't want things to turn out this way... he really didn't, "I wonder... if this was my fault. Without a doubt, I took a great part in such suffering... but..."
How can people blame me... when the only reason I have become the "boy-who-lived" wasn't due to fate or destiny... but a mother's genius... and a mistake?
"She died. That is her mistake."
A death without explanation. A nonsensical death that created misunderstanding and put great responsibility upon the skinny shoulders of an unhealthy 11-year old boy.
"No use thinking about it and being miserable now."
Harry's goal now is to finish this and return to that comfortable life in Wammy's House. With children, happiness, and peace. That is Harry's—no, L's desire.
"0954, no movement. Enemy is slacking, weak points exploited, percent of victory... .32percent."
It's impossible to not worry for Harry Potter's safety, Remus realized as he climbed the tortuous staircase with a tray holding a sandwich and a glass of water in hand. It's only been a few hours at most, but Remus has already thought up of the most horrifying scenarios that could befall the young man.
Remus reached the top of the stairs and walked down the dank hall. He stopped before a door and rapped his knuckles on it, then waited.
There is no answer.
"Snape," Remus called, leaning his face in towards the door, "open this door."
Still no answer.
Pressing his cheek against the door now, Remus shouted into the crack between the hinge and the wood, "Snape! Are you asleep?!"
There was still only silence that greeted him and Remus was beginning to get unnerved.
He quickly set down the tray and fishec out his wand, "Snape!" he growled, drawing a simple rune on the door with the tip of his wand and he wrenched open the door at the sounding tick, "Snape you—!"
And Remus froze as he took in the very empty room.
Remus found himself unable to move for the first few seconds of shock, then he pulled himself together and wandered over to the bed, impeccably clean, and looked behind, under, and over it. Nothing. The rest of the room is bare of furniture and the only window the room had was opened—
With quick steps to match his equally hastened heartbeat, Remus grabbed for the windowsill and looked down. There is nothing there, but there is nothing anywhere.
"Shit!"
Everything was beginning to spin out of control in Remus' mind. Colors were flying everywhere and he couldn't catch his breath.
Remus sprinted down the stairs, knocking over the tray in front of the door and he barged into the kitchen, startling McGonagall.
"Remus!" the woman cried, dropping plates in alarm, "What are—?!"
"Snape!" Remus was gasping for breath, golden eyes wide and dialated. And he reached out for the cabinet, slamming his fist against it.
How could this have happened?!
"Snape! Snape is gone!"
-be continued-
Whoa. Sorry for not... updating. I didn't expect myself to be taking
a long break. But LJ's back.
EDIT: I just realized I didn't put any spacers in. Sorry.
