Ye Old Disclaimer:Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended. J.K. Rowling owns it all; I am just playing with the Story. No money is being made by me in any way shape or form.

Betas:

KennethRose, Jacobite, Me, myself, and I. Pretty sure we still managed to get it wrong…

Chapter 9, Break In

'…That night I learned a valuable lesson. I can kill for what is right and be okay, but I can't use the Dark Arts. I like them too much…'

Excerpt from the Book of Pestilence, Tale of an Ill Touched Man

It was the night before the last day of Holidays.

The last few weeks had been vaguely amusing as the teens tried to figure out what was going on within the Order; Mrs. Weasley was sharp as a tack, and ever since the Elves had taken to doing all the cleaning and cooking she'd taken it upon herself to be the aggressive shield against knowledge, and crusaded to keep them all in the dark about what was going on.

Even Sirius had been quiet, which was saying something, and Harry was pretty sure that was Dumbledore's doing. It fit with the information blackout that was in place before he got here, because if the teens learned anything then they would've likely told Harry all the details and that just wouldn't have done. Mrs. Weasley took this post as her new mission in life and seemed to outthink the twins at every turn; a feat that frustrated them, but impressed the hell out of Harry.

As the holidays grew closer to ending, Harry noticed Sirius getting more and more distant and withdrawn, and so he had tried his even best to spend all the time possible with him, and his plan seemed to have some positive effect on the man. In previous lives Mrs. Weasley was always forcing them into cleaning, chores, and keeping them separate, but with her eviction from the kitchen by the coalition of elves, she was far too busy being paranoid about the twins devising something that would get past her screens. So, with the greater freedom allowed, Harry got to spend his time with Sirius learning of his parents; what they got up to at school, and various other tidbits of information that Harry had never known about in previous Shades. Of course no relationship with any of the Marauders would be complete without at least one prank, and Sirius was more than happy to encourage Harry's new-found desire to continue the family tradition. Though what followed was more than one prank, and quickly the pranks became more elaborate and sneaky as the twins competed with Sirius and Harry to cause the most havoc. Remus even joined in the little war on occasion creating a three way battlefield. Order members quickly learned to check everything and it didn't take long before everyone was as jumpy as Mad-Eye when visiting Headquarters. Hermione however had been ruthless trying to get Harry alone to talk to him. A feat he spent almost as much effort denying her. Thankfully Ron was moody about the way he felt Harry was treating him and commanded most of her time. That suited Harry just fine as he wasn't very happy with either of his friends. At this time he and Ginny weren't very close, not even decent friends so it was fairly easy to avoid her. Though when they crossed paths every now and then she would burn scarlet and flee. Just like old times.

At this moment Harry was thinking of things far removed from anything to do with pranks, chatting with Sirius and Remus or Weasleys, or avoiding people. At this moment Harry was looking over his plans for his assault on Azkaban. Plans weeks in the making.

The more time he spent working on his Occlumency and Mindscape the more pissed he was getting. That horcrux in him allowed a back door through his mental defenses, and every time Voldemort was feeling emotional it wrecked his landscape… again. Occlumency was worthless in defending him from these spikes. Unlike in prior Shades Harry was far more attuned to Riddles mind via the link this round. He figured it had to do with the fact he was not nearly as innocent as he was prior. In any event it was getting old, fast. Harry had decided that enough was enough and spent the last two weeks resting and planning in secret. The victim of his plan, he eventually decided, would be Dolohov; Riddles best mate from his school days, and a man who was currently serving life in Azkaban after Karkaroff named him as a Death Eater. He had the advantage of being someone Harry had already had planned to kill anyways, for crimes in this Shade and prior ones, and being in a known stationary location which meant easy access. Sort of.

Harry pulled every bit of knowledge of the last time he infiltrated Azkaban and planned accordingly. He felt bad that Sirius would be the one ending up vilified in the press about this whole break-in ordeal, but it was just a necessary evil. The way Harry figured it, Riddle was going to free his old chum in about six months anyway so it was better to just go in and get him now, when the bastard was defenseless… that and Harry wanted to send a message to Voldemort, as well as get some payback for Cedrics death. Taking out his best mate would make a good start and might make him rash and more prone to exposing himself before the Ministry Battle at the end of the year, which in all honesty Harry would rather avoid but planned to be ready for.

Shaking his head of the thoughts that were accumulating Harry looked over the plans strewn over the table in his bedroom. He planned to enter the same way he did last time. The secret of the Fidelius wasn't the only thing to travel with him. He had loads of memories from prior Shades being an animagus. He was happily surprised when he discovered he didn't have to go through the ritual or buy the potion ingredients again and go through the whole process. So he planned his attack by flying in using his animagus form, the goshawk, and entering through a window on the tenth floor of the east face because it was the only place that had a break in the outside wall large enough for his avian form to fit through. Once inside he'd have to navigate twisting, narrow passages; get past roving bands of Dementors, which he shouldn't defend against, and Aurors who he couldn't let see him, all the while making his way through twenty floors of the darkest, most vial keep the world had ever known; full of the most black hearted felons the magical community had to offer.

And then get out.

With his target.

Oorah.

The American Marine Corps cry was something he'd learned from his close association with Jake Granger, Hermione's father and fit quite well here. Jake didn't like to talk about his time in the Marine Corps, but even to this day those experiences showed themselves in his personality. Harry had taken to it like a duck to water, and it used to be a comradely thing between them last round.

After taking off the chain around his neck and opening up his Sorcerer's trunk he began pulling out the things he would need. He noted idly that Kreacher was standing at the door watching him while keeping guard to make sure no one came in and remembered Kreacher telling Dobby to stand guard on the other side when he first entered to finalize his plans.

As he had during his time as an assassin Harry dressed to make sure if he screwed up no one would be able to identify him. He kept to tighter clothes that wouldn't flap about or get in the way, and that were dyed in a very dark navy. He'd discovered in past Shades, particularly the fourth, that jet-black wasn't the best option; even shadows had some hint of light, and a block of solid black stuck out, surprisingly, like a sore thumb. The only piece of loose clothing on his body was his cloak, because you couldn't beat a good cloak to hide the shape of your form or create an illusion of greater body mass; an illusion that could save your life if the spell was shot slightly off. Such a mistake was likely if you were aiming at a moving target, and Harry liked to keep moving. Besides, Harry had access still to a few of minor shadow powers from his Fourth Shade, namely the ability to manipulate shadows to a minor extent. Another ability that for some reason also accompanied him. The power of the mind, and his memories, was something he had no scholarship in. Something for his Guild to research later if they had the time.

His entire head would be covered by a skin-tight hood made of Dragonhide; two jet-black patches resembling obsidian where his eyes would normally be; the entire construction having been created for him by the goblins, and with his prescription built into the eyepieces along with several enhancements, the darkness of Azkaban wouldn't be a problem. After a moment's checking over the sealing runes on the hood to prevent poisonous gas and such, Harry strapped his Asps to his thighs; thankful that he managed to get the time to enchant them as he wanted. He had covered the luminescent jewels with black electrical tape to prevent them from giving away his location if he needed to hide; he didn't want to be a walking taking advertisement for Christmas where he was going. In the small of his back he sheathed his ritual dagger and then strapped his clawed bracers to his arms and hands. Undar must have had one of his people do them because having the claws retract or spring into place was an improvement that he hadn't even thought of when he had ordered the contraptions. Harry's cedar wand rested in its holster strapped to the left side of his body while his right side had his Dessert Eagle safely in its holster under his arm, and three extra clips of ammunition were sitting tucked into the bandolier across his chest. The pistol wasn't his first choice of weapon, but it had the advantage of not being something he had to remake, and it packed a hell of a punch.

Harry took a few moments to clear his mind except for the task ahead. He told himself that this was the only way. In all prior Shades the Horcrux within him was destroyed by being hit by a killing curse, and always by Voldemort, but Harry wasn't willing to risk that occurrence happening again. There was the very real possibility that because of his knowledge of how it happened in the past it would disrupt the deep magics that surrounded those events now, and prevent them from taking place again. Harry didn't want this life, but he sure as hell wasn't willing to give it up so easily now that he did have it.

He didn't want to have to use such dark magics, as the ritual he had planned required, but his options were either that or wait and see if his theory on the killing curse would work for an eighth time. He had to do something, and this was the only thing he could think of from all of his vast experiences that would work. To get the Horcrux out of him he had to cut it out, and the only way to do that without dying, since his body was its current vessel, was to perform the Ritual to create one. Instead of damaging his own soul he would split Riddles fragment from himself and place that into a container. The Ritual, however, required a cold blooded Murder, and never in any of his lives had he intentionally harmed an innocent.

He was sure as hell not about to break with that tradition now.

He was fucked up, twisted, mental, but he drew the line at hurting innocent people and so he needed someone whom he could kill that no one would miss, and who he wouldn't have a problem with killing. From his prior memories Dolohov had hurt Hermione greatly, several times, and was responsible for Mrs. Weasley's brothers' deaths. He had hurt, tortured, raped, and murdered countless Muggles, and if he was freed by Voldemort he would continue to do those horrible things. This was not something that Harry was going to allow to happen. Dolohov was living on borrowed time, and Harry was calling the debt due tonight. Pissing all over Riddle's Cheerios by sending him Dolohov's head was just the icing on the cake. Riddle loved to inspire anger, hate, or fear in others, and unbeknownst to him he was about to get a spoonful of his own potion. Let's see how you like it, you snake faced twat.

His mind cleared, and his determination cemented he lowered the hood over his face and neck; leaving him completely covered and looking positively murderous. Harry opened his eyes to look at Kreacher; his distorted voice ringing metallically in the room when he spoke. "Make sure everything is ready and run interference for me Kreacher. If everything goes well I should be back by sometime after midnight."

The wards around the old manor prevented Apparation into the property but not within it or out of it, and Harry took full use of this feature; spinning around on his heel and disappearing with a near-whispered pop.

"Good Luck, Master Harry…" Kreacher mournfully whispered to the empty room in front of him. "…Hurry home."

xxxxxxxx

The sound of Harry's appearance on the coast was lost to the howling of the wind surrounding the North Sea. Harry, for his part, looked hatefully into the dark storm that rolled over the vista before him. His time in the Auror Corps, both of them, included guard posts on the island. Back then Minister Kingsley had dismissed the Dementors from their posts as wardens and had instead recruited hundreds of Aurors to replace them. Regular rotating posts inside the prison and in the field were common, so Harry had the advantage of knowing the layout very well. Of course he was also an inmate once and knew what it was like now, and it gave him a new appreciation of what had been keeping the prisoners in as a warden. And then there was the fact that this wasn't his first time breaking in to kidnap Dolohov.

Harry transformed into his animagus form and took flight immediately; winging his way toward the island he couldn't see, but knew was there. His small bluish grey from darted ghostly through the storm tossed night lost to sight almost immediately. There was a special route one had to take to get safely to the dark keep; it was changed routinely to prevent anyone from being able to do what he was doing now in fact. The wards ranged a fair distance from the prison fortress, and all of them were designed to confuse, confound, and misdirect anyone trying to get to the island they were tasked with protecting. If trapped in them a person would roam about in a never ending maze of their own making; leaving them trapped with only what food and water they had, eventually, if not rescued by the Keeps Aurors in that endless sea they would die of thirst or starvation. Some of madness or of being snacked on by the occasionally far ranging Dementor. Unpleasant ways to go by any means.

Harry himself had rescued a few would-be jail breakers thinking they could beat the wards, and had found several he was too late to save. He was very aware of the wards effectiveness, but Harry planned to avoid this fate by sticking to the 'corridor' as it was called; that invisible pathway through the wards that only the Aurors knew because only they had the Gate Key. Harry, however, knew of a way around that particular problem that no one else had figured it out in any of his Shades, at least to his knowledge.

It started with birds.

Birds it seemed to possess a natural inner compass, or at least had some kind magnetic sense. Harry didn't really understand it, but then again neither did anyone else when he had researched it back in his Fourth Shade. That inner sense would get fuzzy or confused when he was close to the boundaries of the Corridor, and so by that sense alone Harry knew all he had to do was correct his flight until it read true once more and the distortion to his senses disappeared. The wards used to protect the prison really were the best and were designed to prevent everything from owls to House Elves form gaining entry unless you had the Gate Key, and as he winged through the opening of the Wards and into The Corridor Harry thought that whoever laid down the anti-bird wards never thought one would be intelligent enough to figure this little exploit out. Especially considering how extremely rare flying animagus's were. He the first one since Morgan la Fey.

Harry flew his way through the torturous passage; moving under and over white capped waves and turbulent winds, and only after nearly an hour of flying could he finally wing his way up to his planned entrance. There were many windows all over the huge, ancient prison; all barred and warded to prevent anything but cold air, water, or dust motes entry, but Harry stayed away from the windows as he flew around the structure for several minutes to avoid giving himself away. After finding the particular hole he was looking for he squeezed through with only a few ruffled feathers.

And just like that, he was in.

Harry transformed back to his human self; looking around through the goggles in his hood and around the prison that seemed swathed in sunlight because of the goblin enhancements. He chose to not use his avian form inside the walls because it would draw far too much attention, but then again any flying thing that wasn't a Dementor would.

Through the slimy moldy stone corridor Harry stalked; his cloak billowing regally around him and his footsteps silent. He stayed away from the infrequent torches that burned on the walls; keeping to the shadows where his form was at the very least distorted by the inky blackness and his own manipulations. He passed several cells where men and women cried, cursed, or whimpered, but Harry paid them no mind; keeping his senses sharp and stretched out to their limits though the shadows in order to detect any approaching Dementors or Aurors. Another minor shadow power he still possessed, and handy as hell at the moment. It took him half an hour before he was starting to get close to his target.

Harry quickly retreated around the corner he had just passed when he spotted a pair of Aurors walking patrol, and quickly slinked against the wall between two columns; swathing his form in shadows. He pulled one of the batons from its sheath slowly as the two men came into sight.

"…can't believe it either. Kids got stones if nothing else. Me da' told me all about it last week," stated one of them with an Irish accent. Harry kept still, watching them pass right by him.

"I don't see what it matters to us. Just do your…" the unknown wizard stated before Harry rendered him unconscious with one of the Asps. Harry brought it down on the back of the Wizard's head, cutting off what he was saying, and before he even started falling Harry jumped onto the next one; putting his razor-sharp fingers over the Auror's throat.

Harry synthesized voice spoke close to the man's ear, "I am going to remove my hand from your throat. When I do I am going to ask you a few questions. If the questions are not answered, or you so much as twitch, I will place my hand back to your throat. When I remove it next I will be holding your esophagus before your eyes. Is there any part of this that is not clear? Shake your head or nod."

The wizard shook his head as far as he was allowed to by Harry's grip. He loosened his grip allowing the man below him to draw in a shuttering breath.

Harry spoke again with that chilling metallic voice. "How many guards in the next cellblock?"

"None," the sacred man answered.

"Dementors?"

"Twelve; one per cell…"

"Good night," Harry stated before bringing the butt of the Asp onto the back of the man's head, rendering him unconscious. Harry left the bodies in the shadows where he had previously been hiding and moved into the next block. The wrought iron door squealed harshly with age, and Harry winced as it echoed down the corridor. The chill that hit him was familiar and unpleasant; he hated Dementors with a deep seeded passion. He'd never understood how Sirius managed to survive here for years; his three month stint almost broke him.

Harry stood in the doorway, sheathing the Asp and drawing his wand and pistol. He could feel the cold fingers of the dark creatures' aura starting to seep into him, and it was this was the part of the plan he knew was going to be the hardest. As he looked down the corridor there was just no way to walk past any of them without getting caught in their effects. It was a struggle to hold onto his mind where he was.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted. His stag patronus erupted from the tip of the cedar wand and charged ahead; clearing the block of Dementors. Harry didn't move until the stag returned.

He reached up and petted the silvery stag, "Good Work." The ghostly emanation faded away quickly. In the distance Harry could hear the sounds of feet running toward him and the Klaxons sounding the alarm.

"Fuck it." The alarm was rang quicker than he hoped it would but there was no going back now. He flicked his wand at the door locking it tight before he turned back to the row of cells. Harry walked to the first cell looking inside but didn't recognize the huddled figure, and he found that he didn't recognize anyone until he passed by the fifth cell.

"Rodolphus Lestrange…"

The figure in the cell turned hatefully to him; dark eyes glaring into Harry's obsidian coverings. "Who are you?"

Harry remained silent and watched the man struggle for a moment before he started approaching the cell doors that separated them. His mind overwhelmed by memories of prior encounters and knowledge from many lives blazing through his mind. "Free us… we can reward you beyond your wildest dreams!" the ragged man offered.

"You wish to be free?" Harry asked emotionlessly.

The man nodded quickly; sending his unkempt rats-nest hair bouncing about his head. Harry raised the pistol and pulled the trigger; sending its loud report echoing throughout the cell block. Lestrange's head rocked back, and the wall behind him was instantly painted with reds and greys.

"You son of a Bitch! When the Dark Lord comes back you are going to die! You, your family, your friends, anyone who has ever met you will Die! You hear me!" Harry tuned slowly to the sounds being made by the other Lestrange Brother.

"You first," Harry stated while pulling the trigger again.

His time was limited so he started making his way quickly forward while shooting any Death Eater he saw. It got easier with each pull of the trigger, as he knew it would. Killing was not exactly new to him and these people needed killing. It would be the lest of his crimes before the night was over, and the most Light. The cell block was filled with his gunfire; the screams of panic from the inmates; and the dying. Harry walked right through it as emotionless and uncaring as any of them when they murdered muggles until he finally found who he was looking for in the next to last cell.

He put away the pistol, pulling the Asp back out, but this time activating the rune that controlled enchantment he had inscribed onto it. The enchantment wasn't very difficult or very special; it was used by people who did not want their things messed with. The original spell was called 'Weighty Chest' and it did pretty much what the name suggested. The enchanted item's weight increased greatly depending on different variables, variables that generally relied on where, who, and how many were touching the item in question when the enchantment was laid. The combined body weight of every living thing touching the item was combined into the item, and it affected everyone and anything but the one, or ones, keyed to it. For Harry it was Sirius, the Twins, and Remus. Harry had arranged for Sirius to do the enchantment so no one would suspect him of being able to do magic, but either way the effect was the same. It was sadly easy to con the old con into doing it, and not knowing what exactly he was doing it to thinking he was just exhibiting it as a prank idea. There would be nothing funny however to anyone Harry hit with the foldable club. The weight behind it would make feel like they got hit by a Volkswagen. Funnily enough that was what Harry named the modified spell, 'Volkswagen'.

The best part was to Harry it only weighed a pound.

Harry swung down, shattering the lock on the cell and allowing him to open up the door. "We have a party to get to Dolohov, and you are the guest of Honor."

"Do you have any idea WHO I am? Do you know what will happen to you when the Dark Lord hears of this?"

Harry strode forward with little delay while sending an overpowered banisher from the cedar wand into the Death Eater before him. He watched dispassionately as his body impacted into the wall, rending the raging man silent. Harry strode forward, pulling the chain from around his neck as he did so, and once the trunk attached to it reached full size Harry opened it to one of the empty sections before throwing Dolohov inside. Closing the trunk and shrinking it once again Harry placed it around his neck tucking it back into his clothes. He moved out of the cell; intending to finish the others in the next cell block or two when at the moment he stepped from the cell the door on the opposite end of the hall burst open to reveal a cadre of Aurors on the other side.

"You there, Freeze!" one of them shouted.

"Time to go!" Harry exclaimed amongst their cries of 'Stop' or 'Halt'.

Harry threw up the strongest shield he could to delay them before turning to the cell wall and casting one of his family's spells. "Amner OR!"

The great force of the spell caused the wall to explode outward in a shower of fragments which joined the downpour outside, and it was into this rain Harry jumped; quickly transforming but still plummeting all the way to the bottom. It wasn't until the last possible second he extended his wings and skimmed the rough waters below him, and using the surf as cover he winged away with his prize.

The wards were trained to keep things from getting close to the prison, but there was nothing to prevent them from leaving once a hundred yards away from the walls and so Harry flew as fast as he could. Once he made landfall in the same place he had first appeared he disapparated back to Grimmauld Place where Kreacher was waiting for him. He appeared in the plaza across from Grimmauld place and the elf quickly jumped them to the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry pulled the hood off his head and looked at the ritual circle that was sitting in the center of the Chamber. "Everything is ready?"

"Yes," croaked the old elf.

Harry nodded and then gave the small creature an inquiring look, "Anyone know I am gone yet?"

"No Master; Dobby is following instructions very well and has let no one in to your room. We have told the people who asked that you did not feel well and are resting."

"Thank you Kreacher. I'll call you when I am done. You don't want to see this."

"Very good Master," bowed the elf, and he quickly vanished with a crack.

Harry pulled the trunk out again, and opened it to retrieve Dolohov. He pulled the man from the trunk and dragged him over to the circle before binding him in the appropriate places, and after he was finished Harry picked up the common hand mirror he had Kreacher purchase earlier that day. He placed it in the correct position in the circle before taking his own. He raised his wand and enervated Dolohov. Harry didn't want to, but it was necessary for the Ritual.

The bound and gagged man watched horrified as Harry Potter was revealed to him to be his abductor while Harry waved the Cedar wand chanting out the long series of words flawlessly. Harry ignored the struggling man's attempts to get free; he ignored the silent curses thrown his way; and the pleading in his eyes - Harry concentrated only on his hatred of the man before him; hatred for the things he had done or would do. It took an hour of chanting before he reached the crescendo and cast the killing curse.

The soft green glow of the curse rebounded on him from Dolohov's body and suddenly his entire focus of the world was Black, White and Pain. He looked down into his chest; seeing the soft bluish white of his own soul, and attached to it like a parasite the ugly red of Voldemort's. Harry slowly raised his wand, directing the energy of the Killing curse like a surgeon's scalpel, and slowly sliced the offending soul away; making absolutely sure to cut it precisely so that not even the faintest residue was connected to his own pure energy while making sure not to cut his own. It seemed to take him hours to complete fighting past the agony of the magics he had invoked. When he was done the red soul fragment was attached to his wand, and not a shred of it was on his own. If he could have Harry would've breathed a sigh of thankfulness for having dabbled in the Dark Arts, namely Rituals, in one of his prior Shades. They were memories and events he wasn't proud of, but the knowledge had just saved his life.

Carefully Harry lowered the red soul fragment into the mirror and watched it attach itself to the item and the binding wards that Harry had enchanted. Once the fragment was sucked off his wand and sealed his world returned to normal and his body collapsed from the strain of what he had just achieved. He could feel the seductive pleasure that rushed through him, almost orgasmic in its intensity, as the dark magic coursed through his veins. For just a moment he felt as he did in his fourth run after completing one of his rituals. Harry enjoyed it almost as much as he was disgusted by it.

He lay in a heap, panting heavily but after several minutes gathering himself he turned to look at the mirror. He could feel its tainted presence reaching out to him, and growled at the compulsion before pulling himself to his knees and picking up the baslisk fang that Kreacher set aside just for this. With just about the last of his strength Harry plunged the tooth into the mirror; shattering it and sending the fourth piece of Riddle into the void.

"Kreacher," Harry called weakly.

Authors Note:

Thank you all for reading and Please Review. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who added this story to alerts or favorites and for the reviews I have received not to mention how honored I am with the Fav Author hits. You are all appreciated.

Shout Out! A great story to read if any are interested is Parallels by Bobmin356. An old story but one I've reread many times. Also an inspiration to this particular story.