Book 1: Harry Potter and The Hidden World

Chapter 10: Fallout

"Actions always have consequences. Inaction always has consequences."

Harry woke up to see a pair of smiling blue eyes.

"Welcome back, Harry." said Professor Dumbledore.

"Prossefor?" he slurred. "What's going on? And why does Quirrell have two faces? And why...are we in a tent?"

Harry looked around from his place on a cot. There was a canvas ceiling over head with the same canvas walls on the sides. The tent went on for quite a long way. He could make out other cots going down the tent in rows with other people on them. Madame Pomfrey and several older students were bustling around, attending to the wounded. None of them seemed very serious.

"Unfortunately," said Dumbledore, "the Hospital wing is, shall we say, inoperable."

"What happened?" asked Harry, getting more confused by the second.

"Let's begin with Quirrell." said Dumbledore. "He was being possessed by Lord Voldemort."

Harry blanched.

"That was the other face?" asked Harry.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "The events of Halloween all those years ago reduced him to little more than a wandering soul. No more than a parasite. He was seeking that mirror to restore his body and powers."

"Is that what it did?" asked Harry. "Then why did he waste time attacking me? Why didn't he just sneak out?"

"For one, what he wanted was actually inside the mirror, magically hidden and quite beyond his grasp." said Dumbledore, without a trace of humility. "Second, Voldemort wants you dead with a burning passion."

"Because of what happened the night my parents died?" asked Harry.

"No, my dear boy." said Dumbledore. "That night, your parents were collateral damage. Voldemort was after you."

"Me?" said Harry, shocked. "But...I was a baby."

"Yes, and you blew him to Kingdom Come." said Dumbledore smiling.

"How did that happen?" asked Harry. "And when Quirrell, er, Voldemort...he touched me earlier his skin started," he gestured vaguely, "breaking?"

"Ah, I was hoping you would ask." said Dumbledore. "Your parents gave their lives to protect you that night so many years ago Harry. They could have just left and they would have been safe. Voldemort only wanted you, but they stayed and fought. That kind of sacrifice leaves a lingering presence that is as crippling to Voldemort as a tide of acid."

"So, Voldemort was defeated by...Love?" asked Harry.

"You've got it." said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling.

Harry stared him down, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Can I ask Cynthia what she thinks?" he asked Dumbledore, whom Harry suspected was the wrong color of crazy.

"His analysis is valid." said Cynthia, who came striding through the nearest tent flap with Diego in tow.

"Love creates a myriad of strange effects." she continued. "Deliverance from evil is one of them."

"How is that possible?" asked Harry.

"No idea." Cynthia confessed. "If we had all the answers, we'd be gods, not magicians."

She leaned down and embraced Harry.

"I'm thrilled to see you alive. I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner." she said.

As Harry hugged her back he had a thought.

"Sirius Black!" he said jumping out of bed. He wasn't stable yet, and started to fell over when Diego caught him and picked him up bridal style. The large muscles his shirt was concealing made the hold very well padded.

"He was here!" Harry continued, fighting off the sudden fatigue.

"Yes," said Cynthia. "Professor Snape was the last person we confirmed seeing him. He cornered Scabbers in the kitchens, killed him, and ran off."

They were all quiet for a moment as this sunk in.

"He went mad in prison I guess." said Harry.

"We'll know soon enough." said Cynthia. "The Dementors are searching for him in what's left of the castle."

Harry tried to sit up in Diego's arms.

"What do you mean 'what's left'?"

~o!o~

Diego carried Harry along rows of tents that had been set up on the Hogwarts grounds. As they walked by people turned to stare at him and mutter to each other.

Diego finally cleared the last row of tents and they came out onto a ridge. At the top of the embankment were Marcus, Ron, Hermione, and Draco looking the other way at something.

"Harry!" said Hermione, the first to notice Diego and him coming up. The other three got to their feet and ran up to him. Diego squatted down so Harry was at eye level with his friends.

"How ya feelin' mate?" asked Ron.

"I've been better." said Harry. He looked for Draco, who had been right there when Quirrelldemort exploded. "Are you ok?" he asked Draco.

"I was fine." said Draco. "Flitwick shielded me from the blast. You were already pretty worn out by the time you-know-who exploded."

"How about Flitwick and Sprout?" Harry asked.

"They're sleeping it off now." said Marcus, taking Harry's hand in an unusual gesture of affection.

"Remind me to send them a fruit basket." said Harry, giving the hand a squeeze.

"One that can be seen from space." said Marcus.

"How much damage?" Harry asked.

At that, they all moved aside so Diego could go up the embankment. When they reached the top of the ridge they had a panoramic view of the Hogwarts Castle.

Plumes of smoke came out of what few windows that were left. None of the towers were left standing. The great hall looked like a shattered eggshell.

"How did this happen?" asked Harry, on the verge of tears. This had been the only place that ever felt like home. And now...

"The castle had three monsters wreaking havoc inside simultaneously." said Cynthia, as she appeared at Diego's side. "That's a lot to ask of any building, let alone a thousand year old castle held together by spells and honest intentions. The straw that broke the camel's back was the dark wizard going supernova on a weight bearing floor. The good news is that there were no casualties."

"Hogwarts is destroyed." said Ron, dejectedly. "I always wanted to come here and now -"

"Hogwarts is not destroyed." said Cynthia, moving to stand between the students and the ruins. "Hogwarts isn't just a castle, grounds, dungeons, and a quidditch pitch, that's what Hogwarts needs. Hogwarts is experienced wizards and witches passing along their knowledge to the next generation of extraordinary sorcerers. And whether they're doing it in an ancient castle or at the bottom of an ocean or in an old shack, the principle remains the same."

"So, well all be coming back next year?" said Hermione, hopefully.

"My dear," said Cynthia, reaching out fondly to Hermione, "We will have classes on September first if it means I have to line up every witch and wizard in Britain to shout 'repairo'."

~o!o~

Sirius Black jolted awake. He had been sleeping off his disappointment at not getting Scabbers alive. He got a lot of solace about having committed the crime he had been imprisoned for, but it somehow fell short of being able to prove one's innocence.

He looked up into the wizened face of Thomas Potter.

"Thought I'd find you here, Black." said Thomas.

Black didn't try to protect himself, though he knew Thomas probably wanted to curse him until he was an uninteresting scorch mark. He grabbed at the hem of Thomas's robe and moved right into begging.

"You have to believe me, Thomas." said Black, very close to tears. "I would never betray Lily and James. I wasn't the one who told Voldemort where they were."

"I know you weren't." said Thomas.

"It was Peter Pettigrew!" said Black.

"It was Cynthia Montefiore." said Thomas.

They both stared at each other blankly for a second.

"What are you talking about?" asked Thomas.

"What are you talking about?" asked Black.

"Never mind, you can explain later." said Thomas. "We have to get out of here before the Dementors come this way. Then you can help me. Cynthia's up to something. And when she's done we're going to be wishing for the days when You-know-who was our biggest problem."