Beta: Alter
Beneath this Wicked Star
The sound of the Beater's bat making contact with the Bludger resonated along the nearly empty pitch. From the left end of the pitch Ginny pulled down in a spiral, the Quaffle cradled in her hands. Ron's encouragement followed her descent.
Momentarily stopping to watch her fly Harry couldn't help but search her body for any sign of discomfort. Madam Pomfrey had warned Ginny her leg might not be able to handle the strain of Quidditch. After much convincing Ron had grudgedly allowed Ginny to continue her spot as Chaser. So far the redhead had found her knee only ached after any prolonged flight time. She could play but required a day for agitated swelling to fade. There was also the danger that opposing teams might target her leg. All they could do was to wait and see if Ginny was up for the challenge by the time their first match was scheduled.
The luck of the Sorting Hat had determined Gryffindor would be the last team to have their first match—in fact it wouldn't take place till the end of November.
Harry pulled his Comet 520 upwards, the sound of his teammates yells following him as he pushed his broom as high as he could go before he had to level out. The air was cold in his lungs and made breathing slightly difficult. Ignoring his lightheadedness he pulled down.
From his position Harry could see the stone turrets of Hogwarts. Off to the side the Forbidden Forest hid itself in ever-present shadows. Even the sun failed to penetrate the dark territory.
Strangely wistful Harry found himself studying different routes that had let over the years to various death-defying adventures. Aragog and his kind were in the West End of the Forest. Hermione had let Umbridge near the South side and into a Centaur lair. He'd never had been sure where exactly Hagrid had taken him during his first-year detention. The Chamber of Secrets opened up near Hogsmeade, the forest having been pushed back after a millennia of civilization.
The Forest as always would remain Forbidden to their human neighbors. The Centaurs, acting as Guardians of the Woods had thoroughly rejected any alliance with him but they had the courtesy to swear they would not align with anyone else. Despite their apparent regard for Aberforth "the Sage" Dumbledore they disliked every other human.
This was not the time to think about that Harry reminded himself. He had a snitch to find.
S
"HARRY!" A shriek, a warning, a second too late.
A sharp turn to the left was the only thing that saved him. A wave of violet light sped toward him so fast it ripped the air apart with a wild wail. With a sinking feeling he realized he was an open target in the air—an advantage his attackers were using to it's full extent.
"Land!" hollered Ron far bellow him.
Another wave of violet fire flared toward him. Shifting his body he pulled backwards, the air tugging at his overgrown fringe. A shriek from bellow was the only warning he had of the wicked yellow burst of witchcraft that nearly caught him in its undertow. His broom shuddered between his palms, the enchantments destabilizing in the wake of destructive magic.
So intent on avoiding the trail-end of the yellow comet he never saw the thin strip of ice-blue magic heading toward him with an assassins' precision. It was nearly upon him when he urged his Comet 520 to shoot forward. The collision jarred him nearly off the broom. The resulting explosion as the broom's twigs exploded in blue-flames did jar him from his seat. Hundreds of feet above ground Harry hung on tightly to a burning broom.
His magical senses expanded to examine the burning wreckage that was quickly becoming his broom. The charms were deteriorating rapidly. Already the broom was spiraling downward. Airborne sparks fluttered stinging his unprotected hands and head. He was too high up to even hope to survive the fall. His teammates had long fled to the ground. Another flare of violet light ripped bellow him, effectively warning his friends against rescue.
Frantically Harry tried to find a way out of this mess. Unfortunately his time was up. With a fiery-blast the enchantments on his broom failed completely. The resulting explosion burned his unprotected knuckles. The next thing he knew he was falling, the wind whipping his robes around his body. The air screamed into his ears and stung his eyes. Worn frames were ripped from his face. Not like it made any difference—the world had faded into a kaleidoscope of shapes. Even as the ground rose to meet him Harry pulled out his wand.
He was a wizard By Circe! He was not going to die like this, especially if it meant he wasn't taking anyone with him.
His wand was grasped tightly in his hand and he almost groaned when he realized he knew of no spell that would save him. So much for seven years of schooling he thought somewhat snidely.
Instead he brought his other hand before him, blood from various wounds coating it bright red. He needed something to break his fall. He needed something to catch him.
Maybe it was better he had so little time to analyze his plan. It seemed somewhat…stupid on reflection. Luckily for him he did not indulged in such analysis.
One second the flares of enemy spells lit the pitch and the next a roaring column of Black Flame rose to meet him.
Too many conventional spells would have wounded him just as bad as if his face had collided with the ground. Black Flame hopefully would be the one type of magic he body could handle.
He only had a moment to second-guess himself as his body collided with the column of flame. His breath was stolen immediately as he sunk into the very heart of liquid-like inferno.
It wasn't completely solid mass but the very real flames quickly consumed whatever pocket of air he fell into. So though he might survive the fall he may yet suffocate.
He had never learned to swim but the sensations surrounded him easily reminded him of the one time Dudley had pushed him into a full creek. This was his inferno and dammed he would be if he let it kill him. Coaxing the flames downward so his head might break surface proved to be more difficult than summoning them. The flames greedily danced, and the elemental magic didn't want to be banished.
His will would not be thwarted Harry thought furiously. Even as his lungs burned the column of flame began descending. After what seemed like forever his head broke surface. Greedy gasp for air almost made him dizzy. More gently than before Harry descended to the floor. After an eternity his feet touched blessedly solid ground.
He was tempted to faint but he hadn't completely forgotten the assassins. It was moderately more comfortable being on ground but he was still vulnerable with no cover. Raising his bloody hand he summoned the Black Flame to create a shield even as he threw himself onto the ground.
Where were the professors? For God's sake one of the Quidditch stands was merrily burning. A red burst of light from behind reminded him that his teammates were still out there.
His attackers were well hidden in the fringe of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry couldn't see his attackers nor could he spot any of his targets. As soon as he traced the location of one spell his assassin seemed to shift.
This meant one thing.
Complete chaos.
Nothing legal had ever proven to surpass the sheer destructive force of the Black Flame. Flicking his wand back up into his holster Harry pulled up two palms before him. Clasping them once and consequently smearing crimson fluid he concentrating on how it felt to summon the Flame.
Emotions free, wild heart, and racing mind. Flames wild and sweeping, consuming and powerful.
His shield suddenly exploded outward. Nearly seven feet tall the shield expanded in a half circle and with deadly intent it sped toward his assassins. In the blink of an eye all he could see was black flames and burning shrubbery.
It scorched the top of outlying trees and still it did not stop. Even through the haze Harry heard two distinct yelps. His triumph was shadowed by the growing weakness in his limbs. He had never called the Black Flame in such a great quantity and Harry feared he had overexerted himself.
His arms grew heavier by the second and dimly he stared at a drop of red blood that trailed down his wrist and into his robe. His knees gave way and lethargy invaded his bones. He ignored that as best he could as he focused on keeping the Black Flame burning.
Hands crept around his shoulder, familiar and safe he thought distantly. Bright red hair invaded his field of vision before refocusing into a freckled face with bright blue-eyes.
"It's alright. Everything's fine Harry. You can let the flame-thingy go." Ron whispered not quite hiding the tremble in his voice.
Another presence positioned itself in front of him.
"Everything is fine now Mr. Potter. You can calm down." Said a smooth voice Harry was surprised to identify as Professor Flitwick.
Abruptly he stopped feeding his Flame. However it did not end there, he needed to call it back. He couldn't allow the Flame to spring free of his control and invade the forest.
To me. His voice echoed in a silence few could hear. Into a realm ruled by the forces of the nature he called and that which was his birthright obeyed. Like a flame extinguished because of lack of air the Black Flame raced back to its origin even as it dwindled.
The moment the last snip of dark fire extinguished Harry sagged into the waiting arms of Ron and Professor Flitwick.
"There, there Mr. Potter. Everything is alright now. The Professors are taking care of everything now." Assured the calm voice of Flitwick. From the corner of his eyes Harry could indeed see various Professors running past him and into the scorched land Harry had given rise to.
With every breath strength returned to sluggish limbs.
"L-let me up." Harry croaked. Shadowy emerald eyes met Flitwick's alert eyes. The former dueling champion studied Harry for a moment before he nodded his acceptance.
Arm slung over Ron's shoulder anchored him in an upright position.
The fight was over. For the first time since what he could safely call an attempted assassination Harry was able to see the damage.
A few trees had lost what foliage they still had. Luckily the fire had swept by so fast come spring most of the greenery would have returned. An area easily over a hundred feet had been scorched as well as a large portion of the pitch. A good quarter of the stands that had been raised for the upcoming game still burned from enemy fire. Professors were joined by official gray-robed Aurors in securing the area. Turning back Harry spotted the pale faces of some of his teammates, their red Gryffindor robes singed and dirty. Halfway between his teammates and him Harry realized with rising dismay was a still figure clothed in dull red robes. Next to the figure Madam Pompey's white robes contrasted greatly to the surrounding destruction.
"Conrad Devanny. Fourth-year." Ron whispered near his ear to the question Harry was too weary to ask. "W-we where going to ground when he was hit. A wicked purple light caught him. I don't know what happened but the next thing I know I'm touching the ground and Devanny is falling. Hit the ground pretty hard. Bastards were still firing so we couldn't stop. I cast the strongest shield I knew and ran for it. Ginny landed too fast, messed her knee. We took cover behind the burning stands—well they weren't burning when we hid behind them. We couldn't see who was firing but we saw the whole sky light up when you were hit. The flame-thingy sprung up and…Harry? Don't ever to that again. You've no idea how terrifying it was for you to fall into that flame. I was sure the bastards had set it up."
"I'll try." Harry assured him.
Ron could only smile weakly.
Both boys fell silent as Madam Pompey unclasped her cloak and pulled it over Devanny.
Besides him Ron whispered somewhat hoarsely. "By Fire, and Well, and Sacred Tree; From Land and Sky, and from the Sea; Gods, Goddesses and Ancestors of old; Guard your passing, rest your soul; Find peace in eternal sleep."
Harry was not familiar with Wizarding funeral rides but he could still remember the words that the Dursley's priest had said right before they were buried.
"Earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace." His voice dry and rough seemed to surround the trio that stood there just observing.
"I HATE YOU!" a girl screamed. The girl in question sprung from the arms of Professor Sinistra. Half-walking half-staggering she raised a dirty tear-stained face toward Harry. The girl only got half-way toward him before she fell. In all that time not once had she stopped her wailing. "He's dead! He's dead! He's DEAD! Conrad's dead. He was coming to my house for winter hols. We were going to find a way to break up his mum and her boyfriend. We were going to plan the best prank ever and get back at Richards and Higgs. We were going prank my older brother." The girl's voice dissolved into incoherent babbling.
Stunned, Ron and Harry could only stare at the girl with growing unease.
"He's dead." The girl wailed. "It's all your fault! They would have never have come if it wasn't for you!" she shrieked all the while glaring hatefully at Harry.
Madam Pompey quickly surrounded the girl as only she could and literately shoved a calming potion down the girl's throat.
"I hate you." The girl muttered weakly as another calming potion met her lips.
Harry studied the girl for a second. Joyce Fairbanks, a half-blood witch from fourth year. A pretty girl with blond hair and soft hazel eyes. She was part of a quartet that included the now deceased Devanny and two other Gryffindors. Harry had noticed them simply because of the mischievous air that was all too reminiscent of the Marauders.
"We should be getting you to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Potter." Flitwick interrupted them. Harry was startled to realize the girl's tirade that had served to echo throughout his body had only been witnessed by a few people. Off to the side two charred figures were bound and levitated by four stone-faced Aurors.
Slowly Ron proceeded to guide Harry back to Hogwarts, Professor Flitwick at their side but otherwise silent.
"Mate?" Ron asked hesitantly. "You know she's a nutter. She probably doesn't mean anything she said and even if she did it isn't your fault. Not like you were shooting at us. It's those bloody bastards fault."
"Excusing you language Mr. Weasley you are correct. The poor girl is obviously distraught Mr. Potter." Reassured Professor Flitwick. The diminutive Professor seemed to hesitate before continuing. "Did you know I was a champion dueler for many years Mr. Potter? Because of my experience I was granted pseudo Auror status during the war against the Dark Lord Grindlewald and in the end I fought just as fiercely as any man called to the battlefield. It was a terrible war Mr. Potter even compared to other wars. He-who-must-not-be-named has waged a campaign of terror and midnight death but no one can match Grindlewald for the sheer genocide he incited. So many deaths and so much blood I saw…I sometimes still see in my dreams. I saw so many people during those years, people I fought to protect and people I fought to kill. I learned something back then…not everyone can be saved and not everyone can accept that. There were people like Miss Fairbanks and they said much as she said. For a while I believed those people…I felt the weight of their death on my soul and guilt in my hearth.
"Consequently I nearly destroyed myself. Near the end of the war when our captives were being put on trial I realized something. War and justice are disturbingly similar, blind when it suits them and all-knowing at turns.
"It's like that Muggle game 'Spin the Bottle'. The bottle will land on someone and you can't prevent that, can you? In the end all that is really in your power are your own actions. You can step in the game and reduce everyone's risk of being chosen or you can stay behind but never can you completely protect them. It would be arrogant to even think so. The funny thing Mr. Potter", Flitwick said in a somewhat bitter voice. "Those sorts of people are all too often the people who first spin the bottle.
"What I'm trying to say is you aren't God so never believe you can control the fate of others."
They had reached the Hospital Wing. Pausing in front of the doors Harry tentatively set his hand on Flitwick's shoulder. Giving silent thanks to the Professor Harry moved on ahead into the blindingly white room that already had several beds occupied.
"Harry! Ron! Thank Merlin you two are alright." Called out Ginny. She was laid out on one of the beds, her legs propped up carefully in order to avoid jarring her injuries.
"Dear brother, if you ever dump me on first-years again I'll hurt you. I had to calm them and convince them to take me here after reminding them nearly a dozen times how to get here. I think they needed more calming potions than I did."
Harry raised an eyebrow in question before gratefully collapsing on a bed.
"Wu'happened?"
Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation even as he moved over to his sister to check her injuries.
"My dear brother", Ginny began sounding highly affronted, "practically sprinted the whole pitch. I swear Ron grew wings…the next thing I know we're bursting into the castle and he finds a pair of Hufflepuffs and orders them to take me to the Hospital Wing, mind you he scares them witless in the meantime. I wait forever here just wondering what is happening. The ground shook you know…I assume it was because of what happened."
"It might have." Harry muttered tiredly. "Tell you after I pass out."
He proceeded to do just that.
Ginny stared at the Boy-Who-Lived somewhat incredulously.
"He never told us!" she realized.
"Trust me…you probably wouldn't have understood anyway. I saw it and I'd be less confused if I hadn't." Ron assured her.
"Well that…is incredibly not helpful." She retorted.
"I suspect so."
S
"Mr. Potter? Are you awake?"
Harry resisted the urge to burrow his head under his pillow. The bitter scent of herbs was his first clue that he wasn't in his room. For a second he was truly puzzled why he would be in the Hospital Wing.
And then he remembered.
--falllingfallingfallingBlackFlameburnlandskyearthonfireConradRonJoyceGinny—
Harry groaned into his pillow. That was not the best wakeup call ever. Rubbing his eyes tiredly Harry was surprised to find himself still tired.
"Wu' time is it?" Harry croaked through a dry throat. Someone placed a blessedly cool cup into his cups. Thankfully it was nothing more terrifying than water.
"Glad to see you with the living." Said a stuffy voice that had Ministry written all over it.
"Oh stuff it Woltersnoff." Snapped a familiar voice. A gentle hand ran through his hair. "Wotcher Harry…been pulling something mischievous, have you? Gave me quite a scare young man…" sniffed Tonks.
"I'll try Nymphadora—" an indignant sniff "—and not that I don't appreciate you being here but what are you doing here?" Harry asked after finally opening his eyes to see two slightly blurry figures. Bright blue-haired Tonks was near his bedside while another Auror leaned stiffly against the nearest wall, sharp-eyed and stone-faced he seemed uncomfortable and impatient despite training meant to betray nothing.
"About that… I guess you could call us your neighborhood interrogators. Oh Merlin Harry, you've any idea of the ruckus rose when Hogwarts alarms started blasting their mouth off? We come here, the Quidditch pitch is burning, a student is dead, several more are injured, and two of the most notorious assassins on records are unconscious and suffering second-degree burns. Excuse me Harry if I indulged in some well-deserved hysterics."
"Auror Tonks I think you're getting off track. We're here to question Mr. Potter."
"Dolt." Tonks muttered softly enough as not to be heard by her partner.
"If you say so Emery. Well Harry I'm Level Two Auror Tonks and this is my partner Level Three Auror Emery Woltersnoff. We've been told to ask you about what happened this morning. So far the Ministry is keeping the story quiet from the public, they've grounded all the owls here at Hogwarts if you can believe it but we wont be able to keep this silent past a day or two and when all hell breaks the Ministry would like to be able to explain what happened. Now Harry…what happened?"
Harry couldn't help but smile wanly at his god-cousin
"That's what we all would like to know. Now I don't mind answering some questions so long as I'm able to ask some questions of my own."
Auror Woltersnoff stone-faced tightened in displeasure. He obviously didn't like Harry's forwardness.
"I don't think you understand the situation Mr. Potter. You are facing a Ministry inquiry on what type of magic you meddled in. The damage incurred to the school in the resulting battle is estimated to reach thousands of galleons. A student is dead Mr. Potter and your role in this mess is coming under question."
Tonks huffed but remained silent.
"Auror Wullsnuff—"
"—Woltersnoff—"
"—I hadn't realized I was facing such charges. Looking at my position it seems unwise to talk to Aurors without my solicitor present. Perhaps you could arrange a meeting? I should be able to schedule one in a week or so."
Woltersnoff's lips thinned even more if possible. There was no way a news blackout could last that long. The news would break before then and the Ministry could not be caught ignorant. Madam Bones had all but threatened him with a demotion if he didn't return with a reasonable explanation. They'd even send clumsy Tonks along with him even though she was a field agent in hopes that Potter would be more at ease.
"Perhaps an informal exchange of information would be more beneficial." Woltersnoff practically spit through clenched lips.
"Feel free to sit down. As you can tell I don't feel it best to move to a different setting."
"Of course Mr. Potter."
Harry let Tonks fluff his pillows as he leaned his back against the headboard.
"Now Harry…care to explain how you flambéed two men?"
"I'm surprised you didn't recognize it Tonks. Witeroff—"
"—Woltersnoff—"
"—I am Sirius Black's son in both the magical and legal meaning of the word. He bound me to his bloodline shortly after I was born and as such I was gifted with attributes that belonged to the Black Family."
"You can't mean what I think you mean Harry." Tonks all but moaned. "It's not possible at such a scale."
"If you two would enlighten me?" Woltersnoff bit out.
"The Black Family has a gift unique to its bloodline. It is commonly called the Black Flame because that is what it essentially is, a black flame summoned. I've never been able to do more than light a candle with the gift but my mum is quite skilled in the art. I've seen her raise flames that can be several feet tall."
"That is basically all I did. Sometime after we begun practice unknown spells were fired into the air. I was higher up so landing proved somewhat more difficult for me. I would assume my attackers switched off when firing based on how often spells were fired. My broom was hit and the enchantments failed. Although I had my wand I knew of no spell that would mimic flight since Apparation was warded against. The closest one was Wingardium Leviosa but since I was falling I had no reference point to anchor myself.
"I needed something to break my fall so I called a column of Black Flame to life. The flame caught me and took me to ground. I was still under fire and I had no clue were the attackers were so I resorted to widespread destruction. If my flame moved quickly enough I knew it would not be life threatening. Not the brightest idea I admit specially since it landed me in the Hospital Wing. The next thing I know the Professors were there and…. that's about it."
"Eeh?…" Tonks. "That was certainly informative. Any questions Woltersnoff?"
"Is there any proof of this 'Black Flame'?"
"You could always have me give you a personal demonstration—"Harry snapped.
"—or you can go to the Department of Mysteries. There is a lot of information documented on such elemental abilities as the Black Flame." Tonks interrupted smoothly. "That is unless you really want a personal demonstration Emery?"
For the first time Woltersnoff appeared to lose some of his composure. Coughing nervously he merely said, "No thanks."
"Proof that you indeed share Mr. Black's blood?"
"The fact I wear his ring and suffer no backlash should be proof enough. The magical enchantments laid out on the ring prevent all but the rightful owner from wearing it. Now…I want to know about my attackers…assassins you said?"
Tonks looked at Woltersnoff expectatively. The man in question was tempted to not answer but one look at the boy made him think he would end up regretting it.
"Reginald Cohen alias Farrow. Wanted by the British Ministry, the American Ministry, the Russian Ministry, and the French Ministry for murder, extortion, assault, impersonating an official, dragon poaching, kidnapping, theft, smuggling, and blood magic. He's been at large since 1978 when he was apprehended in China for three weeks before escaping. Farrow has a reputation in less than savory circles as a one of the best assassins and consequently one of the most expensive. From what the Department of Magical Law has been able to determine Farrow has had little dealings within the British Isles since the assassination of Hughes and Olivia Thorn in 1987, a murder he is the prime suspect in.
"Next is Eamus Faa suspected to origin from one of the Gypsy Clans the Dark Lord Grindlewald destroyed. He sports a similar record as Farrow although he's only been charged with murder, impersonating an official, and smuggling. The Russian Ministry is particularly keen on bringing him to trial after the murder of Representative Gavrill Davydosa of the International Confederation of Wizards. Mr. Faa also holds a particularly notorious reputation as an assassin.
"Both are currently sedated and heavily guarded awaiting decisions pending where they will be tried at and of course what charges you yourself wish to file against them."
"You made more than one Auror swallow their tongue those two fellows were identified." Tonks discreetly informed him.
"So…someone with money hired those two charming fellows. Lovely…." Harry couldn't help but mutter. "Winkerliff—"
"—Woltersnoff—"
"—I think these are all the questions I am willing to answer without a solicitor present. I believe you have all the information needed to explain the events of this morning—this day does just wont end—and I will be sure to contact the Ministry later on to file the appropriate paperwork.
"It was lovely seeing you again Tonks and it was nice meeting you as well Auror Wontleiff—"
"—Wolter…never mind, I give up." Said the Auror before he shook his head weakly and walked out of Harry's private room.
Tonks erupted in giggles she had been suppressing for quite a while.
"Brilliant Harry, he's a complete prick. Usually I never see him because he has a desk job but this sort of thing falls under his duties. By the way your Winter Ball date told me to give you her best. I hope you two have fun and just so you know I'll be part of Security that night. Go back to sleep." Tonks said brightly as she tweaked his nose and followed her partner out of the room.
Harry stared at her disappearing figure for a moment before he decided this day had gone on long enough. Pulling the covers over his head he promptly decided to pass out once more.
S
"—Hogwarts…two…fire…Ministry—"
"---dead…dormant poison…Farrow questioned—"
Harry turned uneasily in sleep. Whispers invaded his unconscious mind but frankly all he wanted was the sweet oblivion of sleep.
"Who ordered—"Rage. Displeasure.
His will would not be thwarted.
Harry moaned his distress. Had anyone been in the Hospital Wing at that hour no doubt he would have been woken from restless dreams. Unfortunately for him Madam Pompey had called it a night two hours ago when Miss Fairbanks was doused with another sleeping potion. Mr. Devanny's parents did not need the young girl's hysterics when they came to collect their son. Plus for safety's sake he had been moved to a private room.
Harry fell to his knees. His breath was expelled by the sudden jar to his body. Quickly he sprung back, crouching, his wrist flicked back to release his wand.
His fingers clamped on air. Pushing back his sleeves his eyes were met with an unarmed forearm. Harry didn't let that detour him, his fingers flew up to his upper arm were a gauntlet hid a Muggle dagger.
Not good.
Harry took a quick survey of his surroundings. So far he was alone in what looked like a study. The only light he could see was from a low-lit fireplace. A neat desk had a scattering of objects that reminded Harry strangely of the Headmaster's office. The walls were lined with books of every size and shape.
Much to his confusion he realized there were no doors.
An attempt at apparation left him feeling drained and disordered. That might not have been a good idea he thought woozily.
"I would not do that again Mr. Potter." The voice was cultured and cold, and Harry just happened to know it as well as his own.
"Voldemort." Harry said simply. It wasn't a greeting exactly but neither was it filled with the usual fright one felt when meeting the Dark Lord himself.
"Do sit down Mr. Potter." Voldemort invited as he sat behind the lone desk. Harry carefully sat down in a chair that he knew had not been there during his original inspection.
"Where are we?"
"It seems neither of us was able to occlude our emotions. The strength of our emotions tore the barriers between our minds and you my Heir have been pulled into my mind."
At least that explained everything Harry thought somewhat helplessly. It also gave rise to a whole new set of problems. Minds were tricky business to meddle in. For those trapped in a Master Occlumencer's mind it was all too simple to activate defensive mechanisms that could easily leave one trapped in mental walls.
Much as he was trapped in Voldemort's mind right now. It was no coincidence Harry found himself in a door-less room. Luckily Harry was powerful enough that even if he couldn't break free he should be able to incapacitate the Dark Lord if things should turn for the worse.
"I understand why I'm…emotional," Harry curled his lip in distaste, "but what's gone wrong in your life?"
"Foolish boy." The Dark Lord hissed. For the first time since Harry had fallen under a truce he witnessed Voldemort's terrible anger. "Have you learned nothing in all this time?"
Harry couldn't help but recoil from his rage.
"Are you truly an incompetent simpleminded child? Sixteen years ago that thrice-dammed curse bound our lives together. Two years ago your blood strengthened the connection between us. When I feel rage you feel the echoes of my anger. When you feel anger I sense it. Our minds have become connected together and should one of us die do not think the other will not suffer in the bonds destruction."
Harry stiffened. When he spoke his voice came out emotionless, his face a mask of everything he was.
"Is that why you made me your Heir?" Harry asked never once looking away from crimson eyes.
The serpentine face lost its anger as something akin to understanding flashed briefly before settling into a mask of his own.
"No Harry…that is not why. I believe in fate too much, as do you. One way or another I know you will find your way into the Final Battle and as my Heir, I can only win."
"I have never said I would fight for you." Harry said warily all too aware of the dangerous present in Voldemort's mind.
The Dark Lord smiled. Not the most pleasant sight ever.
"I've never believed you would to be honest. But my Heir, Slytherin will always win. If you should side against me then either I as Lord live on or a worthy Heir will succeed me."
"That sounds like you doubt yourself." Harry mocked trying to understand why he felt so relieved upon hearing Voldemort's answer.
"Never." Hissed the older man. "But I am Slytherin and Slytherin's always win."
Harry couldn't hide a smirk of amusement.
"At least I now know you weren't the one to order the assassination."
"My Heir, what little faith you have in me."
"Do you know who did?" Harry asked tentatively. Voldemort had enough spies to have access to the type of classified information no one would tell Harry.
"As much as it displeases me I don't, the gypsy mudblood had injected himself with poison prior his mission. Had he not been able to return and take the antidote he assured no one would force him to reveal his secrets. He died approximately five hours after capture."
"And the other?"
"The other…" Voldemort's voice dropped in displeasure. "The other took no such precautions; he was arrogant enough to believe he would never be captured. Unfortunately for him someone else did no such thing. 'Farrow' was assassinated seven hours after capture having never regained conscious."
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. He did not like it that both were dead, they had been the only lead to whomever had ordered the hit. Whoever that was had just proven not only did they have money but they had spies within the Ministry's so called 'restricted' areas.
"Unfortunately for me anyone from a silent Death Eater supporter to vengeful Fudge could have hired them. I doubt they'll tell me anything more than what I've managed to drag out of my interrogator."
"Know this my Heir, none that call me Master ordered this. They know your life belongs to me."
Harry smiled sardonically not at all frightened, disturbed perhaps but not frightened.
It was destiny.
"Now…leave my mind."
S
Harry woke with a gasp.
False dawn lightened the sky outside his room. Except for his harsh breathing the room was silent.
He did not need this.
His head was beginning to merrily pound and the Wizengamot meeting would be today and by the Dark King he was not going to miss Fudge publicly announce his resignation.
If he managed to have any luck at all he would be able to sleep for an hour or two more.
Things could not keep screwing him over.
S
"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey's shriek could be heard echoing throughout the Hospital Wing and into the corridors.
Somewhere near the Great Hall Harry smiled. There had yet to be a man that could withstand Madam Pomfrey's coddling. Harry had chosen not to fight battles he knew he had little chance of winning.
The Gryffindor dorms were still empty. Up in his dorm room three of the five beds still housed their occupants. Knowing Neville the boy had been up since dawn.
Harry confidently went to his truck. Only something care of the Weasley twins would wake this sleeping trio. Pulling his Family robes from his trunk he also retrieved a plain wooden box the type someone would have made in shop class.
Dudley had made it years ago at Smelting. The box wasn't all that neat but Harry couldn't muster the will to throw it away. With Marge Dursley dead no one was left to remember the Dursleys. He was not all that troubled about the world forgetting Vernon and Petunia but Dudley hadn't even been sixteen when he died. He'd been an annoying bugger well on his way to being an arse equal to Vernon but no one would ever know now.
The rough box was stuffed with five years worth of letters. But it was the lining that Harry was interested in. Digging in his fingertips he dug out the Black and Potter Family rings.
He had less than twenty minutes before Dumbledore would be escorting the Heirs off the school grounds and ten minutes would be wasted getting to the site.
Harry pulled the robes over his head, his fingers skipping over the buttons with an ease learned from sometime during his stay with the Dursleys. His shaggy hair, which was finally growing enough to be pulled back in a tie, he couldn't too much but run his hands several times through it.
Finding one of Seamus' old History essays Harry scrawled a quick note on the blank back. Ron was a good mate but even he would finally snap if he found Harry had left Hogwarts a day after an attempted assassination with nary a word of warning.
A minute later the room was empty save three snoring boys. Pinned on Ron's hand with a well used if irritating sticking charm was a short message.
Ron,
Gone to Ministry of Magic. Can't miss Fudge's day in the spotlight. Am fine—avoid Madam Pomfrey if you know what I mean.
Harry
S
"Harry!" squeaked Neville in what probably wasn't the most dignified moment in his life. The sandy-haired boy actually took several feet back before falling on his backside. It didn't help that his jaw had become unhinged in surprise. "But…. you aren't…I mean, Madam Pomfrey…" stuttered the boy.
Harry helped his friend up before giving him a wry smile. "There's plenty of things I shouldn't have done but did anyway…you really think this is any different?"
Neville sighed helplessly as he dusted his robes. "I suppose not."
Neville's little scene had attracted the attention of all the other Heirs who had previously been ignoring the Longbottom Heir in favor of gossiping.
From Zabini's side Theodore bowed his head in greeting even as he sent him a welcoming look however discreet it was.
"Is it true Potter?" the Malfoy Heir said as he pushed passed his peers to stand before Harry. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry with certain maliciousness reserved for the latter. "Did someone really try to kill you yesterday?"
"Something like that." Harry answered absent mindlessly. To Harry's senses Malfoy seemed even Darker than the last time they spoke. Tainted. Harry's heart twisted in helpless pity.
We all pay our father's sins. Whether it is against another person, ourselves, or even the world we all pay for the sins of those that came before us.
"I told you, you'd be lucky to graduate. You should have known what happens to those that follow Dumbledore—your parents certainly learned the hard way." Malfoy taunted.
Harry knew the Headmaster would be they're any second now. He didn't need to give him a reason to ground him from going to the Ministry.
Harry gave Malfoy a chilled smile the latter would learn to recognize from the Dark Lord—that is if he lived long enough to find out.
"I might not live past graduation…but I'll make sure I'm not the only one." Harry whispered so softly no one save Malfoy heard him.
: Those who have everything to lose fear those who have nothing to gain.:
Malfoy paled at the Parsel-tongue whispered into his ear. Smoothly, as if nothing had happened, Harry stepped away from the blond boy just in time to see the Headmaster coming toward them.
"Good morning gentlemen and of course lady." Said Dumbledore as he nodded his greeting to Hannah Abbott. "I take it we are all here? Mr. Potter might I have a word with you?" Blue eyes twinkled brightly, his question was polite enough but anyone that knew the man knew it was a command.
Harry agreeably steeped away from the Heir so he might have some privacy.
"Now my boy, are you sure you should be out after such eventful day?" Dumbledore asked with concerned blue eyes.
"I'm fine."
"Fine? My dear boy you have always held that word under a loose definition. I'm only concerned you might overextend yourself. Madam Pomfrey who I very much suspect is quite miffed at you would not appreciate a relapse. But you will do as you see fit so I suppose I should warn you…your attackers are both dead and most of the Wizengamot is aware of basic events though we have succeeded in keeping it quite from the general public, at least for the time."
Harry nodded his head in understanding. His throat fell awfully dry; somehow it seemed far scarier with so many people knowing of the attack.
"It's not like it could have been kept a secret for much longer and at least this way anyone that thinks to go after me will know I have some sort of protection."
For a moment Dumbledore looked as old as his brother Aberforth.
"I am truly regretful for the events that let this. Those men should have never been able to trespass on Hogwarts grounds and those that call it home."
Harry stood before the man in silence. For all his manipulations Harry realized Dumbledore genuinely cared about the students.
"Sir…you couldn't have known." Harry said tentatively, his voice demure. Dumbledore didn't say anything but the dim twinkle in his eyes brightened slightly. Silently Dumbledore placed a pale hand on Harry's shoulder.
"I am sorry Harry." He said quietly, none of his usual joviality present. Silently he moved on to join the other Heirs.
So quietly the Headmaster could not have heard Harry repeated. "You couldn't have known."
For a moment he stood starring at the retreating figure. For the first time Harry saw past his anger and disappointment and in that moment he regretted that he couldn't trust Dumbledore anymore. He regretted that he would never know the man behind the Light side.
"Harry you coming?" called back Neville, Zabini standing stiffly at his side.
"Coming."
S
The Ministry Apparation Station was busy that Saturday morning. Reclusive lords that smelled of damp and wax slowly made their way to the Great Chamber alongside pale Ambassadors. They might not have known the significance of the day but most were seasoned enough to sense the tension in the air.
Dumbledore immediately left them in search of his own affairs. The Heirs broke off to find their faction and faction leaders.
Harry watched them all quietly. Silently he signaled Neville and Theodore to follow him into one of the private galleries they had talked in long ago.
"You sure you should be here?" Neville asked once they were alone. "Yesterday was pretty rough."
Harry nodded tensely. Unsurprisingly neither Neville nor Theodore seemed to believe him. Harry could only shrug off their concern.
Flicking his wand into his palm Harry cast a Silencing Charm on the room. Tilting his head he motioned the other two boys to join him near the window overlooking the other lords.
"Today…Fudge will announce his resignation." Harry said.
The three boys fell silent as they contemplated what this meant for them and their world.
"About time." Neville finally said with bitter joy.
"My mother keeps up with gossip." Theodore said carelessly. "One of the women she plays bridge with is married to a lord of the Governing Council. Fudge was facing impeachment and wanting to avoid such a scandal he is supposed to resign due to 'medical reasons'."
"But won't this mean a new Minister will have to elect his own Governing Council? Why would they vote to lose their power?"
Theodore snorted.
"And wait for the Full Wizengamot to call a vote of no-confidence? No one wants to be associated with a disaster and Fudge has been one since the day he was elected."
"Oh." Neville said softly. "So who will lead the Wizarding world now?"
"Marcus Garring. 'Acknowledged' Light wizard that served seven years in the Governing Council. Fudge is pushing for this vote." Theodore said nodding toward the man who hovered near the front of the podium.
"Demetri Reinhardt. A former Auror who later became Head of the legal department. Very no-nonsense sort of bloke. He ran against Fudge ten years ago during Fudge's first term and again during the second term. My Gran used to have him over for tea. A lot of the old-timers admire him for his work during the First War. He was behind a lot of the harsher laws for Death Eater but in the end over half were never passed. I think Gran said something about Malfoy advising against it." Neville said haltingly as he tried to recall everything he knew of the man.
"Amos Diggory. I don't think he answers directly to Dumbledore but he is the man that the Headmaster will be pushing forward. With Fudge a goner Dumbledore has invited those against the Dark Lord to form a sort of coalition and Diggory as their figurehead." Harry added.
"What to you think?" Neville finally asked.
"Garring stinks of someone else's money, Reinhardt I don't know about, and Diggory seems the popular choice. Listen…I know you two have offered me your support but what I will do you might not agree with. I am mostly acting on personal reasons so I won't expect your support though I certainly will appreciate it."
Harry paused letting either boy comment. When neither said anything he continued.
"Diggory probably is the best choice, his record within the Ministry cannot be faulted, he's never been too heavily connected to Fudge and his cronies, and he is too arrogant to become a puppet government for Dumbledore. However I will do all I can to sabotage his campaign. Diggory hates me and I don't trust him to give me peace the day this war is over. One way or another I'll make sure Diggory never gains enough power to chuck me in a cell for 'war crimes'." Harry said grimly.
"Diggory…as in Cedric Diggory." Neville said as Harry stoically nodded.
Theodore cold pale eyes softened.
"Wouldn't Dumbledore rein Diggory in?" Neville reasoned. "The Headmaster would never let him go after you like that."
"Neville…I was mostly out of it yesterday but did you hear what happened…after the attack was over that is."
Neville looked uneasy and unwilling to speak so Theodore answered what they all knew.
"Devanny."
"Devanny had a close friend on the team Joyce Fairbanks. When she found out Devanny was dead she blamed me. Not once did she turn toward our attackers that were being restrained just a few feet away. There is no difference between this situation and the one at the end of fourth year. I lived and someone died and in the end it I was supposed to have done more. Fairbanks is a child but some people never lose childish ideas and Diggory is one of those. I trust Dumbledore to keep Diggory restrained but at the end of this war the world will reshape itself to fit new leaders. There is no guarantee Dumbledore will live or that I will not have done something to earn me an Azkaban cell."
"You really think Diggory will win?" Theodore asked.
"He will. If Rufus Scrimgeour should run he might win but it doesn't look like he will."
"What will you then?" Neville asked.
Harry gazed down at the lords who were slowly finding seats.
"A new Governing Council will be voted in. I will do all I can."
Theodore nodded his understanding. "Who shall we be keeping an eye on?"
"Look to where the Founder's Heirs point to. I've made arrangements."
Harry didn't know if what he planned would be enough but it was all he could do. On the bright side he might not be sane when Voldemort died.
S
from the Book of Common Prayer
AN: Hello to all who actually read my notes…
It is unbelievably hot where I am (close to 100 degrees Fahrenheit most of the days) and yesterday I gained another year to my growing collection.
I was sad about the number of reviewers I got last time. Despite that I have written the longest chapter yet. So you better not make me regret it.
I have NOT read HBP so I don't know what happens. I'm probably not going to read it for a while yet. (It's frustrating how many good fics have been put on hold while the author reconciles themselves with Book 6)
Harry's date?
She'll be there next chapter but I still wont reveal her despite the guesses but I will say it is neither Ginny nor Luna.
So far only one person has guessed.
Think creatively.
New Trivia:
Any pets?
( I have a 15 pound Russian Blue cat...some days I get the feeling I'm her 'pet')
Harry said 'Look to where the Founder's Heirs point to'
Since he isn't going to reveal himself as such who will be there instead?
REVIEW! Or I will be upset
And you shouldn't upset me.
REVIEW!