Chapter 25: Parasite

The silence was like an anvil on his chest. The eyes, which took turns fluttering in his direction, felt like needles on his skin. But nothing compared to the weight and sting of his own despair. The fates were cruel, if life had taught him anything.

It had been a full twenty four hours since they had found Harry…Ecero…Sirius scowled and kicked an empty Fire Whiskey bottle out of his path . Whoever he was. The young man was still unconscious in the hospital wing where they had left him and they were no closer to finding out what had suddenly gone so wrong. Now that he thought about it, they had solved little of the grand mystery surrounding Ecero and Konin and their return. Or rather, Harry's return and Konin's unfortunate tag-along. Dumbledore had his theories of course, as he always did, but any and every possible explanation seemed so outlandish and unbelievable. Of course, what had happened was outlandish and unbelievable. Most people would scoff if asked to trust such a tale.

He stopped walking, if the awkward motion his body was making could be described with such a formal adjective, and gave the entrance hall a moment to right itself as he leaned up against a nearby wall.

Oh how he would feel tomorrow morning…

He tried to remember what had driven him to drink in the first place. He could not clearly recall. Not that it mattered now.

His head snapped up suddenly. 'Hadn't I gone to the Three Broomsticks with Remus?' he asked himself. Snapshots from what he assumed was tonight suggested he had been with Remus at a bar. Another snapshot of him looking up at Remus also suggested he had fallen off his stool at some point. His face became hot at the memory.

"Remus?" He called out, turning back to the enormous doors that still stood open behind him. He peered into the night and listened hard for any footsteps.

"What are you -"

Sirius jumped a mile in the air at the sound of his friend's voice in his ear. He placed a hand to his heart, as if that would somehow help stop it from hammering on his rib cage. After he caught his breath he yelled "How the bloody hell did you do that?

Remus looked confused. "I haven't done anything."

"Yes! I was walking…I was walking all the way back to the castle and you weren't there! How did you get back here before me?" he jabbed a finger into his chest a few times, as if Remus might not know who he was talking about.

Remus had a look of deep, deep concentration on his face as he swayed precariously were he stood. Suddenly he smiled, and his hands were in the air. "I left before you!" he declared triumphantly, clearly please at having solved the mystery. He pointed at Sirius. "Yes, you remember? I wanted to leave but you wanted to have a shot with that strange looking goblin that kept trying to chat us up." He made a face.

Sirius' own features were slack as he tried to recall this and his eyes wandered down to the floor.

"Good Lord…" Remus muttered.

Sirius looked up. The werewolf was gazing at his feet with a quizzical frown.

"I've lost a shoe."

Sirius felt his brow crease. "But those are the ones I bought you."

Remus burst out laughing and Sirius stumbled forward to help him walk back to their rooms.

'Well,' thought Sirius, 'We'll stay in his rooms tonight. I'll be damned if I walking all the way over to mine.'

As it was, they barely managed to stumble to Remus' quarters. Feeling a little ill and thoroughly exhausted, Sirius let Remus go, where the man promptly fell to the ground.

"I'm not putting you to be as well." Sirius garbled, looking down his nose.

There was a moment of silence where Sirius believed his friend was contemplating sleeping right where he was, then he said, "There was a time, Sirius, when you'd've picked me up, thrown me on the bed and stripped me naked if I asked…"

"You never said anything about getting naked." He answered grumpily. If he had thought for a second that Remus was being serious, they would have already been in the bed by now.

But no, Remus had closed that particular avenue of pleasure a long time ago. He sighed and left the man to pass out where he was, lying in front of the door. When his head hit the pillow it was the most glorious thing he had ever felt. From somewhere in his mind he told himself to enjoy it while it lasted because, come morning, he was going to regret doing those shots with that bloody goblin.

As expected, Sirius was awoken by a horrible churning sensation in his stomach. He squinted against the harsh light streaming in through the window on the other side of the room and tried to piece together the events of last night.

There was movement beside him and he froze before realising Remus must have scraped himself off the floor at some point last night and crawled in bed with him. Unfortunately, they were both still fully clothed.

"Jesus…" he heard Remus moan beside him.

They rolled onto their backs simultaneously, groaning, their sides pressed together as they gazed up at the ceiling.

"Well, it's been a while since we've gotten that drunk." The werewolf said conversationally. "Though I think I may still have a hangover potion or two lying around here somewhere." He tried to spot one from where he lay, his head swivelling this way and that, unwilling to get out of bed.

"Well if you don't, I definitely have some in my rooms."

"Hmm."

A moment of silence passed before Sirius said casually. "Well, I don't have a headache if you want a little rise and shine action."

His crooked smirk was promptly disposed of when the pillow smashed into his face.

Sirius now recalled why he and Remus had gone to the bar last night. He had been trying to forget and/or delay the conversation that was about to take place.

He was trudging up the winding staircase that lead to Dumbledore's office, his feet feeling as if they were clad in iron boots. He did not want to do this. He didn't want to hear what Madam Pomfrey had to say about his godson. He knew there would be no good news. He was the only one who had been close to Harry when they found him in that room. He was the only one who had been touched by that…thing inside Harry. The only one who could understand it's darkness. It's evil. Nothing that felt as that thing had would be good for his godson. If the godson he knew and loved even existed anymore.

When he got to the office door he contemplated not knocking. Maybe he could just turn around and leave. He knew, though, that that would only delay the inevitable and he would still have to deal with that sick nervous feeling of not knowing.

He heaved a sigh and knocked once on the wooden door.

When Poppy arrived, the first thing she did was sigh, looking completely exhausted. Dumbledore conjured a chair for her and she collapsed into it, not having had the energy to conjure one herself.

"Thank you, Albus." she mumbled into the steaming cup of tea that had just floated across the table.

Everyone was here in Dumbledore's office. Snape, Sirius, Remus, Arthur, Molly, Minerva and Ron and Hermione. It had been a bit of a struggle to get Molly to accept the fact that 'the children' would be sitting in on this little meeting. She gave the same argument she always did. And, as always, they listened patiently until she was done before telling her not to worry and that they had as much a right as any of them to be there. It was a custom for them now, to have this argument. It was one of the few normal, stable things in their life and, as silly as it sounded, no one wanted it to stop. It was nice to know that someone cared and, however futile the attempt may be, tried to keep them safe from harm.

Finally the medi-witch began to speak. "I'm not sure what to say…"

Dumbledore smiled encouragingly, "Just start from the beginning."

She let out a shaky breath. "There is no sensitive way to say this so, please, do not think I lack compassion when I say that Harry Potter, by all accounts, should be dead." When no one said anything right away she continued in a rush. "His body," she struggled to find the words, her free hand making a clutching motion as if to pull the words she needed from the air "His body is no longer functioning to capacity. He is, quite literally, a walking dead man."

"Clearly he isn't." Hermione said, the highly logical side of her needed to point out the obvious fact that Harry was still very much alive. Her eyes were suspiciously glassy and her face was red, as if Pomfrey's words had upset her.

The medi-witch shook her head. "Of course, he is clearly alive and moving. I don't know how to explain what I mean. I've never seen something like this before. It's like there is another force inside him. When I did my scans I read two separate bodies of magical energy." She looked around at them all. "It is my belief that its some sort of parasite."

"A parasite?" Snape deadpanned from his corner, a dark eyebrow arched.

"A parasite…" Dumbledore mumbled, a deep frown creasing what little bit of his face wasn't covered in beard. He leaned back in his chair contemplatively "A magical parasite is easily picked up in a place such as the Azure. Once it finds a host it piggybacks a ride to our world with it?" he looked to Poppy and she nodded.

"It makes perfect sense when you think about it. As much as any of this makes sense. The parasite needs a host body to survive. It feeds off Harry's power and, in turn, feeds Harry it's own power to keep him alive."

Ron looked confused. "So this parasite is keeping Harry alive just so it can take Harry's power?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, "Because the parasite needs Harry's power to stay alive itself. So if Harry dies, than so does the parasite, and if the parasite dies than so does…oh." She seemed to just realize something, her face falling.

Sirius grumbled angrily, "So what you're saying is to get rid of this thing we need to cut off its connection to Harry's power source. But if we do that then Harry will no longer be able to receive its power and he'll die because his body is so ravaged by that fucking hell dimension he needs the life support this thing has him on in order to stay alive?"

"Sirius, calm down." Remus said half-heartedly. He was sitting in a chair, his head resting in one of his hands. It was obvious he was still waiting for that hangover potion to kick in.

Sirius scoffed, shook his head and pushed himself angrily to his feet. "I'm sorry, but this, it just…it's so…" his face was becoming redder and redder and his arms were flailing around like oxygen was the words he could not find. "This sucks!"

Remus noticed Ron hide a grin behind his hand.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." Hermione mumbled.

"I mean can't that poor kid catch a break?" Sirius either hadn't heard Hermione or else chose not to comment.

There was an air about Sirius' body language that suggested he wanted to say this and get it off his chest and apparently everyone sensed it, for they all sat back in their chairs and either stared at Sirius as he paced or stared at the floor and waited until he was done.

"First he gets captured by Voldemort and put through god only knows what at the hands of the Death Eaters. Then he gets sucked into this fucking Hell dimension and tortured some more! Then he's forced to kill and torture other people for this gross, ugly demon, on top of which he has to spend all his time with a disgusting pedophile that he cant even run away from because he's leashed like a dog! Then to top it all off, he finally finds his way home and we discover he's basically no more than a corpse having his strings pulled by some big powerful nasty, like a creepy little puppet!"

"Sirius, for Christ sake, breath will you?" Minerva snapped, looking pale.

Everyone looked at her in shock. Personally, Ron hadn't thought she was capable of swearing like that.

"Well," Poppy said, looking slightly wary of Sirius, who's arms had at least stopped flailing. "I was going to say that I'm not entirely sure we need to get rid of it. The parasite, I mean. At least not yet. It seems to be doing him nothing but good."

Hermione pulled a face. "Well it's keeping him alive, right? We can't get rid of it."

"But, now that he's home, we'll be able to make him well again, right?" Molly asked, speaking for the first time. She clutched her purse tightly in her lap. "And then he wont need this, this thing to keep him alive anymore."

There was an awkward moment when everyone looked over to Poppy for the answer.

She sighed, "I really don't think you all understand the seriousness of his condition. Some of his internal organs didn't even register as having living cells in them. I don't know if he would ever be able to regain full use of them." She finished quietly, her head bowed. "My only thought is that maybe this power he has might be able to repair some of the damage now that it no longer struggles just to keep him upright."

"So we may never be able to get rid of this thing for him?" Minerva asked, looking stricken.

Poppy supposed it was rather difficult for the others to believe that someone who looked and spoke as if they were perfectly healthy was really, as Sirius had said it, basically having their strings pulled by a higher power.

"I don't know, Minerva. Really I don't. For the time being, however, it would be unwise to try anything of the sort. It is keeping him alive."

Sirius, though calmer, was shaking his head again. "Look, you didn't feel that…thing like I did, OK? I could feel it when I was close to Harry in his room. It was…greasy and heavy and dark." He rubbed his arms as if he could feel it on his skin even then. "Just pure, black evil." He shivered, remembering the feeling of that sheer amount of power slithering across his skin. "It may not be hurting him physically, but you don't play host to something that evil and come out of it a better person."

They had argued and deliberated the matter for another hour after that and finally it had come down to taking the advice of the only medical professional in the room, who had become increasingly agitated as they all seemed to ignore her warnings.

They would, of course, not try and rid Harry of the parasite. Mostly because he would, according to Pomfrey, die instantly, but also because they didn't have a clue as to how.

The hospital wing was heavy with silence. Much like the rest of the castle, and even the barest shift of fabric rustling seemed amplified tenfold. Moonlight beamed in through the many windows, checkering the floor like a ghostly chessboard.

Harry had woken. At least, his eyes were open. The switch from unconscious to conscious had not registered in him. He stared straight up but didn't see the ceiling. He hadn't blinked since his eyes had opened, but the burn went unnoticed.

'Murderer…'

Tears welled in his eyes like a spring.

He was worse than Voldemort. A sob clawed its way from his throat, causing the tears to cascade down the sides of his face and leave cool trails into his hair. He was worse than the thing he was supposed to be a symbol of hope against.

'Murderer…'

One would think, of all the people, creatures, demons, whatever, that he had killed…or dismembered or tortured or maimed…that he wouldn't be able to remember Every. Single. One.

'Murderer…'

Their screams rang in his head as loudly as if their mouths were right by his ear. He pulled a face and grabbed fistfuls of his hair.

"Shut up…" he moaned, scrunching his eyes shut against the noise and forcing more tears to roll down his face.

They only seemed to get louder, as if they wanted to punish him for trying to block out the pain he had caused them. He moved his hands from his hair to cover his ears.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" he said, his voice becoming increasingly louder.

For the millionth time since he had woken, the crushing force of reality descended on his chest.

'Murderer…'

Their faces swam before his eyes, their mouths open, all screaming at once. He tried to see them all but there were so many. Some had their throats slit wide. Some had knives or arrows or spears through their eyes. Some just had blood falling from their mouths. Some had no skin left on their faces because he had peeled it off while they still lived. He wanted to wretch and made to wave them out of the air but froze. His hands were black with their blood. Every drop from his victims seemed to be washing over his hands. It was so thick and wet and warm and he stared at them.

For a moment his mind was calm. He knew this. He was comfortable with this feeling. He liked the warmth of life in his hands, dripping down his arms…

He let this feeling take over. Just a little break. Just for a minute. He rubbed his hands together, enjoying the slick feeling of blood between his fingers again. The Darkness pulsed in his chest, flaring to life at the sudden return of Ecero's blood lust.

His eyes widened and his gut churned; his break was over.

"NO!"

He frantically began wiping his hands off on the sheets and pushed the Darkness away with such ferocity it left him feeling dizzy.

They were howling in his ear again. Louder this time. Louder, louder, louder…

'MURDERER!'

He shot into a sitting position, "STOP IT! SHUT UP!"

He thought his throat might have ripped down the middle but he didn't care. As he pulled his knees to his chest and bowed his head, his hands snaked up into his hair again, pulling hard and trying to focus on the pain instead of the screams.

"Leave me. Leave me. Leave me." his whispers trembled, "Leave me…"

Suddenly the Darkness was there, throwing him brutally into unconsciousness.

As Hermione slipped into the dark hospital wing, she was unsure if she wanted to see her friend so soon after the news Madam Pomfrey had delivered. She still had not processed the entire thing yet and was having a difficult time wrapping her head around the facts of the situation. She could see Harry's slumbering form in the bed in the far corner and she made her way towards it as quietly as she could. Though she doubted it made little difference, as Ecero had always seemed to be able to hear her coming from three corridors over.

She wondered what they would do with him when he woke. It was shocking to remember that the school would be filled with students in another week. So much had gone on in the first half of the holidays…the events hardly seemed real to her. She was finding it difficult to believe she would have to be back in class soon. Taking notes and studying and talking about such mundane things as who was going to win the Quidditch cup this year.

She gave herself a mental shake as she drew closer to his beside. Then she slowed, frowning. Harry lay on the bed on his back, in the same position they had set him down in, but his eyes were open. She shivered.

He wasn't blinking.

Her features went slack with a sudden, horrible, realization and she darted forward to his bedside.

"Harry?" she called loudly to him, tears blurring her vision. She had just raised a hand to shake his shoulder when she noticed his chest rising and falling. She collapsed into one of the many chairs that circled his bed, her legs trembling so badly they failed to support her weight.

"Thank god." She whispered into the dark room, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Her heart fluttered anxiously with the shot of adrenaline she had just received.

When she looked at her friend again she noticed tears had welled in his eyes and she leaned forward in her chair. "Oh, Harry…"

She jumped when she reached for his hand and he let out a sob, his tears finally falling.

"Harry, you musn't let this get to you!" She pleaded. Even though the words sounded ridiculous after what he had been through, she didn't know what else to say. "You are better than him, Harry. Stronger than him. Ecero isn't you, he was something you were forced to become in order to survive."

She watched his features crumble at her words. Another sob wracked his body and he grasped fistfuls of his hair. Her heart broke but she hoped her words got through to him.

"Remember that you are safe now. You're surrounded by friends and family. I know it hurts now but it will get better."

"Shut up…"

She blinked. He looked like her very words pained him. He even covered his ears and continued to moan.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!"

She jumped when his voice became loud. "Harry, please. I didn't mean to upset you. I-"

He began to sob, great heart wrenching lungful of air shaking his body. He suddenly moved his hands before him, as if to push something away, and she stifled a cry of surprise at the abrupt movement.

She watched him stare at his hands in horror and felt a cold feeling spreading through her stomach.

Her features dissolved into a stony mask as she watched her friend rub his hands, weaving his fingers together. A peaceful look had settled over his face, a stark contrast to the anguish that had been there not a second ago.

It was back just as quickly.

"NO!"

She gripped the armrests of the chair and closed her eyes when he started to frantically tangle his hands in his bed sheet, like he was trying to wipe something off them. She couldn't watch anymore.

'He doesn't even know I'm here.' She felt wetness soaking her cheeks and realized through her shock that she was crying.

Harry suddenly lurched forward, a scream so raw tearing from his throat Hermione expected blood to dribble down his chin.

"STOP IT! SHUT UP!"

She jumped again at his loud words and her lip trembled as she pulled her wand.

"Leave me, leave me, leave me…"

"Stupefy." She whispered.