Author's Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Wizarding World belong to Rowling.
Chapter Twenty-Five – Who the Hell is Aiden?
Harry walked into the room, but stayed by the wall as he watched the two factions arguing back and forth with some annoyance. It would almost be a welcome change from the last time he had been in this room, but they were arguing about his life, or as Hermione had said, how fast or slow this was going to kill him. He remembered how close to death he had come the last time he was here and shivered slightly. Had it not been for Josef's restraint, he would be dead right now. Course if he were dead, they'd have no reason to argue. That was a rather sardonic thought.
It didn't take long for those in the room to realize he was standing there and Harry could have laughed at how quickly they all fell silent, but didn't. He didn't even smile. He was already tense enough about what he was going to attempt. He didn't need those around him pointing out how stupid this really was and casting doubts on his decision, because of him showing a cavalier attitude.
Harry walked further into the room and looked around him. Ron and Hermione were off to one side, clearly they'd been told to stay out of the way. Kingsley, Tonks, who'd been let in on the secret, and Lucius stood not far from them watching Remus, Dumbledore, and Snape, who were closer to the middle of the room. They had been the ones arguing with Vantesh, Josef and Aurelius when Harry had entered. Clarisse, Alia, Aeolian and Terin stood near the opposite wall and elders from three other Clans stood not far from them, looking almost bored. The room was pretty full, and though Harry wished only those necessary were allowed to be here, he knew he had no say in it.
Harry took his eyes off the people and looked at the room itself. Right away he noticed the changes. The slightly raised dais where Josef had slept was gone, but in its place was a familiar ring, a runic circle meant to contain magic inside of it. There was one around the dueling platform at Lel, but Harry knew there was some modifications to this one. His magic wasn't only meant to be contained, but held back away from him. They couldn't allow it to linger in the air or he'd potentially be able to take it back into himself. Recycle it, as Vantesh had explained it to him. It was also made to be able to be manipulated by the handful of Wizards in the room. Dumbledore would be doing the most work really, being one of the most powerful Wizards here, but even he couldn't control all the magic Harry supposedly had packed inside of him.
Harry's eyes lingered on the circle, or rather what was inside the circle, and it made him hesitate in his approach. There were manacles attached to the stone floor. Logically he understood the need for them. They didn't know what was going to happen to him once the gene was unblocked. If he really was a Destroyer, he could very well unleash unholy hell on everyone nearby. Harry thought it was unlikely, but a possibility all the same. That didn't mean that he liked the idea of being chained to the floor again.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron suddenly asked and Harry nodded firmly.
"Let's get this over with," he said and before anyone could voice any more protests, he walked into the circle and fit both cuffs of the manacles to his ankles. They'd probably be more effective on his wrists, but he'd need the use of his hands to use his magic.
"As I've no way to judge how much pain this will cause you, or what you can stand, I decided on two Muggle drugs that should be effective for some time at least and stimulate your brain enough to keep you going. I'd use basic pain potions, but both Snape and my mother concurred that you'll likely burn through them too fast," Vantesh explained. Harry nodded in understanding, but cringed slightly when Vantesh pulled out two syringes. "I honestly don't know what the side effects of combining these drugs will be, but hopefully it'll be minimal."
"What are they?" Remus asked.
"Morphine, an extreme pain killer, and Epinephrine, basically, synthesized adrenaline. They are essentially opposites. One is meant to stimulate brain activity, make your heart rate rise, and give you more energy, while the other suppresses the nervous system, not allowing you to feel pain," Snape explained and Vantesh nodded in agreement.
Harry could only laugh nervously. "Great so when my heart explodes from the stress, I won't feel it coming," he said mordantly and then held out his left arm. "Dose me."
"Are you absolutely sure about this, Harry?" Dumbledore asked while Vantesh readied one of the syringes. "Once we start, stopping may not be an option."
Harry ignored Dumbledore and looked toward Aurelius, standing next to his brother, on what Harry found himself dubbing the Vampire side of the room. "I'm sure," he said and Aurelius nodded his approval. He didn't flinch as Vantesh pushed the first drug into his veins.
He had many doubts running through his head, but all of them circled around the possibility of him dying, none of them were doubts about becoming a Vampire again. And dying was a risk he was willing to take to achieve that.
It didn't take long for the drugs to go to work in his system and he had to stand with his eyes closed for a moment as he got used to the strange feeling. He felt like he could run a mile, but at the same time, lethargic. Needless to say, it was a really odd feeling.
"You should start slow, low level magic, and then build up from there, you'll be able to continue longer that way," Vantesh advised as Harry opened his eyes, but Harry had other ideas. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible.
Harry didn't use any specific spells as he called upon his runes, he just used. He unleashed as much magic as he could in each blast onto the circle around him and those on the other side took several steps away, just in case he brought down the runic ward.
Harry hadn't used magic like this since his duel with Aurelius and even then, he'd never unleashed so much magic before. It was intoxicating and draining, but that was the point. Harry found himself sweating and breathing heavily from the effort within minutes, but he pushed on.
It was only a few minutes later when Harry stopped abruptly and collapsed to his hands and knees and forced himself to slow his breathing and catch his breath. He'd just realized something none of them had taken into consideration. He didn't know how it was possible, but it was a problem.
"Harry, what is wrong?" Aurelius asked, coming to stand just outside the circle.
"I can't do this," he said breathlessly.
"Why not?" questioned Aurelius almost harshly.
"I can't do this," Harry repeated as he looked up to his father, "because my magic is replenishing itself as quickly as I'm using it."
"That isn't possible," Dumbledore said from Harry's other side.
"Magic takes time to replenish, Harry. Every spell a Wizard casts is a drain on their reserves. There is a limit to how much magic can be used at one time. Even Vampires have a limit," Vantesh said immediately after.
"I know that," Harry said through clenched teeth as he looked away from all of them. And he did, he'd always had a limit before. Why now was different, he didn't know, but it pissed him off. This was not how things were meant to be, he wasn't meant to be Human. He felt that to the depths of his soul and this was his only way to become a Vampire again.
Harry stood and cast at the barrier again. He felt his magic leave him as it should and pushed on, but the more magic he used the more powerful he felt, even as it exhausted him. Harry cast his magic to the floor and fell back to his knees, and pounded the now marked floor with his fist. "It's not working!" he shouted angrily as he slumped over, putting his head in his hands.
"You are making up excuses," Aurelius said scathingly and Harry looked up to him.
He knew what his father was doing, trying to get him angry enough so that he'd cast all out. But what his father didn't know, was that was exactly what Harry had been doing. He wasn't holding back anything. "I'm sorry, Father, I can't do it," he said regretfully and then looked away from Aurelius. He didn't want to see him turn away from him again.
Harry wasn't one to give up so easily, but this wasn't working, they were going to have to come up with something different. He unchained his legs with magic and moved to leave the circle. A cacophony of protests met his ears before he walked into the barrier. What they said didn't have time to register with his brain as pain unlike anything he'd ever felt swept over him, through him. He screamed in agony as he felt a pressure build up inside him and then felt nothing as he collapsed to the floor. For a moment, he saw those around him rushing toward him and then everything went black.
…
Harry wasn't sure what woke him, but it didn't take him long to understand where he was, Hogwarts Hospital Wing. What had happened to him this time? Harry groaned as he blinked open his eyes. How he always knew when he was in the Hospital Wing before he fully woke up, he'd probably never understand, but perhaps it was the amount of times he'd woken up in these beds.
Harry looked towards Madam Pomfrey's office, waiting for the door to open and then narrowed his eyes in confusion when after a full minute, it didn't. Usually, just him twitching brought the Medi-Witch to his side in seconds, where was she? Harry shook his head and looked to the other side of the empty ward, toward the double doors that lead to the rest of the school. They didn't open either.
After a good ten minutes, Harry's patience ran thin and he pushed himself up to a sitting position with difficulty. Everything hurt. Even his hair hurt, and he was pretty sure that was an accomplishment. He tried to remember what had happened to him, he tried to remember what the last thing he had done was, but all he came up with was a memory of an argument with his uncle, and a fuzzy one at that.
Harry shook his head again and rubbed at his pounding temples and that was when he realized how long his hair was. How long had he been unconscious for?
Suddenly the infirmary door opened and Madam Pomfrey came in carrying a basket of potions. She walked right on by him, opened her office door, went in and then came back out just as quickly. She stared at him, he stared at her and then she rushed to his side, dropping the potions on the end of one of the beds as she did.
"Sweet, Merlin, Aiden you're awake," she said as she approached.
Harry looked at her in confusion. "Aiden?" he asked.
"You just sit tight there Mr. Black, let me check you over and then I'll alert Severus," she said as she cast diagnostic spells over him.
Harry could only stare at her as a moment later she bustled over to the fireplace and threw in a handful of Floo Powder. Why did she call him Mr. Black, and who was Aiden?
It wasn't a moment later when Snape came through the fireplace. He looked at Harry and then sighed in clear relief. Now Harry didn't think the man wanted him outright dead, but never had he shown relief upon seeing him before. And why alert Snape, why not Dumbledore?
Snape came over and Harry was more than unnerved by the concern in the man's eyes. "Thank Merlin you're awake, it's been weeks. You really should have waited until we could take down the barrier. What were you thinking?"
Harry blinked at Snape. The question wasn't scolding or scornful, but that wasn't really what Harry was focused on. "Weeks?" he asked numbly.
"Yes weeks. It's mid-January."
Harry frowned in further confusion, hadn't it just been August? How the hell was it January? That wasn't weeks. That was months! Harry shook his head and then against the protests of both Madam Pomfrey and Snape he pushed aside his blankets and got out of bed. He couldn't be sitting as he tried to wrap his mind around this. He paced back and forth and then looked over his shoulder, out one of the infirmary windows.
"Weeks?" he asked again. It was clearly winter out there, snow and everything.
"Aiden, don't be obtuse," Snape said with almost amusement in his voice.
Harry spun back around, ignoring his aching everything. "Who the Hell is Aiden?" he demanded.
Madam Pomfrey looked to Snape as Snape stared at Harry. "What is the last thing you remember?" Snape questioned, alarmed.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. "I think I was having an argument with Uncle Vernon, something about Hedwig."
Snape's eyes widened as Madam Pomfrey mouthed Hedwig and Uncle Vernon before looking at Harry in clear shock. "You're sworn to silence," Snape snapped at the Medi-Witch, who hadn't said a thing and then turned back on Harry. "You don't remember anything of the last year and a half? You don't remember Aurelius? Terin? Lel?" he asked quickly.
Harry shook his head. "Who are they, and what do you mean the last year and a half?" he asked, his voice rising slightly in panic. Was he really missing a year and a half of memories?
"Gods, you really don't remember," Snape whispered.
Harry shook his head again. "What is going on, what happened to me? And why did you both call me Aiden? You do know I'm Harry Potter, right?"
"Clearly, he was aware," Madam Pomfrey said dryly, looking between the two, still in shock.
"Get Dumbledore," Snape snapped at the woman, and she glared at him, but then moved to the fireplace.
"Sit down, Harry," Snape said and reached out to Harry to help him back to bed.
Harry flinched away. "Don't touch me," he snapped. "I don't need your help."
Snape stared at him a moment before raising his hands and backing away. "I think I liked you better when you didn't hate me," he muttered.
Harry glared at him. He wanted to remind the man of exactly why he hated him, but if he was really missing so much time, maybe they had come to a truce of some sort. Though Harry could never actually see himself forgiving Snape. Had he done something, Sirius likely wouldn't be dead. Harry pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time to think on that.
Dumbledore at that moment swept through the fireplace and into the infirmary. "I will explain," he said right away to the Medi-Witch and then approached Harry. "It's good to see you back with us, Harry."
"I just wish I knew where I had gone. What happened to me? Snape said I'm missing a year and a half. Professor, is that true?" Harry questioned.
"It appears to be so, my boy. Why don't you have a seat? You look as if you need one," Dumbledore said in a gentle tone.
Harry nodded and then sat down on the nearest bed. "So what did I do, get hit upside the head with a Quaffle?" Harry asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid, nothing so simple. What is the last thing you remember?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry breathed out and then repeated what he'd told Snape, but in more detail. "It was the last day of summer I think. I'd just read a letter from Hermione and Ron when Hedwig finally came back carrying a letter from someone and then I got in an argument with my uncle. I don't remember anything after that."
Harry saw an indecisive look come into Dumbledore's eyes before Snape spoke up. "That argument ended badly, Harry, very badly. You're uncle ended up dead and you fled to the Burrow."
Harry stared at Snape. "W-what do you mean he ended up dead?"
Dumbledore looked gravely at Harry. "You killed him," he said heavily.
Harry shook his head quickly. "No, I wouldn't have done something like that!" he protested.
"You told us it was an accident, that you hadn't meant to use your magic against him," Snape said regretfully.
Harry stood up and moved away from the two men. "No, I don't believe you! I'm not a killer. I don't like my uncle, but I'd never kill him, even accidently!"
"I'm afraid you did, Harry." Dumbledore said. "You ran to the Burrow and then you were attacked by a Vampire. He turned you and for over a year you remained with him."
Harry shook his head again as he stared at Dumbledore disbelievingly. "I'm a Vampire?"
"You were," Snape said, "Until a Prowler turned you into a Human again. We were trying to turn you back when you walked into the barrier holding your magic and fell into a coma several weeks ago."
"Wait, you were trying to turn me back into a Vampire?" Harry questioned doubtfully.
"It was your choice. It was what you wanted," Dumbledore explained.
Harry swallowed thickly at the thought. He'd never want to be a Vampire in the first place, why would he ever want to turn back into one. "No!" he shouted. "I wasn't a Vampire! I didn't kill my uncle! Why are you saying all of these lies?"
"Because it's true, Harry," a voice said from the doors of the Hospital Wing. Harry turned to see Remus standing there with Ron and Hermione behind him. "It's good to see you awake, you had us worried."
"It's true. Everything they're saying is true?" Harry asked, taking a shaky step toward the group. Remus nodded with regret in his eyes. Harry looked to his friends questioningly.
"It's true, Harry," Hermione nodded. "You've been gone for over a year. We were there when you tried to turn yourself back."
"mate, how can you not remember any of this?" Ron asked.
Harry looked around at the others and then he sat down on the nearest bed and put his head in his hands. "I don't understand what's going on," he whispered. Ron was right, how could he not remember any of this?
"Perhaps you just need time," Dumbledore said, coming to stand next to Harry. "The amount of magic you forced back onto yourself should have killed you," he said bluntly. "Perhaps you just need more time to recover and it will all come back to you."
Harry looked up from his hands incredulously. "Are you kidding? Do you think I want to remember any of that? To remember being a Vampire; killing my uncle? I'll be relieved if none of it ever comes back to me!"
The others stared at Harry in shock, but Harry didn't care, he didn't want to have to deal with any of this. He'd woken up to a nightmare and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and go back to sleep, pretend he'd never heard any of it.
"Please, all of you just go away. I need to be alone," Harry said with tiredness in his voice.
Dumbledore squeezed Harry's shoulder and nodded. "Rest, Harry. We'll come back in a few hours," he said gently and then ushered the others out of the room, taking Madam Pomfrey with him.
Harry looked up again after the door was closed. He didn't know what was going on. What the last year really entailed, but he knew none of it could be real. Everything they told him went against who he was, against his very character. Maybe they'd all been brainwashed, maybe Voldemort had taken over the school and they were Polyjuiced Death Eaters, he didn't know, but he did know that he wasn't going to stick around to find out.
Harry went to the fireplace and took a handful of Floo Powder. There weren't many places he knew he could go that would be safe, but the Burrow had always been a second home to him, so he said the destination very clearly and then stepped into the green flames.
After the spinning stopped and he was able to step out of the fireplace, a chime sounded as he arrived at his destination. He looked around at the familiar and inviting living room of the Weasley residence and then he took a startled step back when Fred and George both ran into the room with their wands drawn, followed quickly by Mrs. Weasley.
"Who are you?" George demanded.
Harry looked at him oddly. "George, it's me, it's Harry."
"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley breathed, staring at him in shock.
"Yeah, Mrs. Weasley, it's me," he said with a small smile, but his smile slipped away at the Weasley matriarch's next words.
"Fred, alert the Aurors," she said, pointing her own wand at him.
Harry raised his hands. "Wait, I really am Harry. I can prove it. Fred, George, you and Ron picked me up second year in a flying car. There were bars on my windows." The two looked at him doubtfully. "Mrs. Weasley you gave me my first Christmas present, a Weasley knit sweater, even though you didn't know me. You wanted me to feel part of the family. Fred, George, I gave you my winnings from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. You made loads of products. You were going to start a joke shop."
"Fred call the Aurors," Mrs. Weasley repeated sadly.
"How can you not believe me? I am Harry, I swear!"
"We believe you," George said tightly.
"Then why get the Aurors?" Harry asked in confusion.
"You murdered your uncle, that's why," Fred said angrily.
Harry shook his head. "Not you too, why is everyone saying I killed my uncle? I wouldn't do that! I didn't like him, but he was still my family!"
"We don't know why you did it, Harry," George said. "But we do know that you ran from the scene. Only guilty people run away."
A banging came at the front door and Harry looked to the window to see several people outside. "Aurors, open up!"
Harry took a step towards the fireplace again, but he didn't see any Floo Powder.
"Harry, don't run again," Mrs. Weasley said sadly.
Harry looked back to the woman who was like a mother to him. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," he whispered and then ran towards the back door.
He just managed to dodge a stunning curse before he flung open the door and ran through. Once in the snow-covered yard, he didn't know where to go though. He was still in his hospital pajamas, barefooted, and he didn't have his wand. How did he expect to get away?
Harry ran towards the woods as Aurors came through the back door and around from the front of the house. Several times he tripped purposely to avoid spell fire, before he made it to the tree line and ducked around a large tree. He stopped to catch his breath and then stilled when he heard a deep growl from behind him.
"You made a mistake coming here, Harry, but a mistake in my favor," a voice hissed in Parseltongue and Harry spun around. His eyes widened in terror. The creature before him had fangs like a Vampire, eyes the color of blue fire, and skin so pale it was almost iridescent. But what really stood out were the swirling blood red markings that seemed to flow over the man's skin as he stalked towards Harry.
"Who are you?" Harry couldn't help ask as he backed away, stopping only as his back hit the tree behind him.
"Come now, Harry. I may look different through your weak Human eyes, but you can't deny knowing who I am. I have tried to kill you several times after all and a connection like that does not go away easily."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. This wasn't the man who had tried to kill him as a child; he wasn't the creature he'd helped to bring back to life in the Little Haggleton Cemetery, who'd tried to possess him at the Ministry of Magic. He'd never seen a monster like this before, but it was his enemy.
"Voldemort," he gasped before he was suddenly grabbed roughly. Harry had a moment where he thought he was going to be torn apart, but then Voldemort was carrying him in a blur away from the Burrow.
They were moving so fast through the forest that Harry felt himself getting small cuts on his face and arms as they moved through the trees. The wind rushed by them and all Harry could hear was a rushing sound and he was forced to close his eyes.
And then all of a sudden it all stopped and he was thrown to the ground like a ragdoll. Harry groaned and rolled himself onto his back on the snow-covered ground. He looked up at Voldemort, or rather the creature that Voldemort was now. He stood over him, looking not down at him, but to someone or something on Harry's other side. Harry slowly turned his head to look that way as well and then he was being picked up by the front of his shirt, like he weighed nothing. His feet didn't even touch the ground.
He reflexively grabbed onto the thin wrist of the hand that held him with both his hands, but he found himself ceasing his struggles as he looked into the blue eyes of the woman, creature that held him. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't place it. And why did he not want to stand against her? He didn't even want to run.
"My, my, Harry, what have you done to yourself? All my hard work, you have ruined it!" she snarled into his face and then Harry found himself dropped to the ground and he could move again.
"Can I have him now, Mistress?" Voldemort asked in a surprisingly light voice. "Clearly he is no longer of use to you."
The woman stared down at Harry and then smiled. "You can have him, Voldemort. Do what you want, but don't kill him. He may prove valuable eventually. He still has Taurean's magic and maybe I can convince him to use it one day. What say you, Harry, are you going to be stubborn, or will you cooperate?"
Harry didn't say anything. He didn't know who this person was, what magic she was talking about. He did know that Voldemort was looking at him with a hunger, lust, he'd never seen in anyone's eyes, and he really didn't want to know what Voldemort had planned for him. He did know he wasn't about to stick around to find out.
Harry braced himself and then got up and ran. He didn't look over his shoulder as Voldemort let out a harsh laugh. And then he was being tackled to the ground. Harry tried to struggle, he tried to fight back, but then a shooting pain went through his shoulder and he felt teeth tear at his flesh at the base of his neck.
He screamed. And suddenly it was like a damn broke. His magic began to build inside him and in that instant he remembered everything all the way up until he'd walked right into the barrier of his own magic. His magic that had pushed against the block on his Vampire gene, and shattered it.
A low growl bubbled up in Harry throat and with strength he hadn't felt in weeks he threw Voldemort off of him, and clear across the clearing he'd been brought to. Harry didn't give either Prowler the chance to retaliate. He called his runes forth and sent out a wave of destructive magic so powerful that the trees around them caught on fire and turned to ash. When he finally called his magic back to him and fell to his knees, feeling faint, he was disappointed because the two had managed to escape the inferno he'd caused.
It suddenly started to rain and Harry looked up into the gray sky and then he laughed. It was in these woods during a rainstorm that Aurelius had turned him, and in these woods, Harry realized that he'd succeeded in becoming a Vampire again. Or almost anyway. He wasn't quite there yet, but he would be.
…
Author's Note: To Be Continued…