Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Harry Potter, the character, settings or plots that have been born from the magnificent mind of J.K. Rowling. For those too incompetent to understand words longer than two syllables: I do not own Harry Potter.
This is Parseltongue
Beta: angelhitomie
A body crashed through the window he had passed, sending shards of glass flying. Harry's arms flew up to cover his head from them. The man skidded over the ground and came to a halt. After a few moments did it become clear that he would not be getting up anytime soon.
Lowering his arms again Harry started walking as fast as he could without breaking into a run, keeping close to the shops and houses as he did so, and the meagre space there was to move around there.
He had managed to stay undetected until he realised that he was still carrying around his Invisibility Cloak, something he hadn't been able to leave back at the castle, which had proved to be a wise decision on his part.
So far, he had managed to be lucky, but Harry wasn't sure how long it would last. It was starting to drain him all those time a stray spell had come close to hitting him. If it continued like this, he would sooner have a heart attack than end up being cursed.
What unsettled him even more was before he had put on the cloak, he had gone mostly unnoticed. He would have thought that Draco would make a bigger target in a situation like this. But he had been overlooked, almost as if he had already put on the cloak, but at that time it had still been safely hidden in his pocket.
Not that Harry was complaining. He was well aware of how low his chance for success was if he had to go up against a wand wielder.
Stumbling over someone's cut off arm, the fingers still securely closed around the wand, Harry leaned against the wall behind him, trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile, his eyes were going over what was going on around him.
There was something wrong with the picture he was looking at.
A glance over the people in view revealed nothing to him. They were fighting, and, though he had no idea what half of the spells they used were, Harry knew that it would be in his own best interest to not get hit by any of those.
It wasn't because of the lack of Killing Curses flying, though it meant that help had yet to arrive. But the Order of the Phoenix was known for rarely using spells that had been labelled dark by the old Ministry. Apparently they believed that it made them the good guys.
In Harry's mind it only made them bigger fools than they had already been. If you had to fight, then wasn't it better to use whatever was available to ensure your victory? It was one more thing to the list of reasons to why he would not be joining them.
Now where he took the time to look closer, Harry realised that not all were fighting all out. It might just be something he imagined, but some of those at the street seemed almost as if they were trying to drag time out, especially those he recognised as known Order of the Phoenix members. The red hair was rather hard to overlook, though he only managed to catch a brief glance of the one whom he guessed was the Weasley patriarch.
Why were they attacking Hogsmeade, what was the purpose for doing so? They were risking their lives, and for what reason, a decoy perhaps? If he didn't know better he would say that they were looking for something...or someone.
Harry wanted to bang his head against something hard. He didn't like the answer his brain supplied him with, but it seemed so likely that it was not something he could dismiss as having no importance.
They were looking for him, which also explained why they seemed less interested in the town people and students who stood up against them. As a squib it wasn't like Harry was about to hurl any kind of spells at them.
But Draco was posing as him, and with the three Lestranges he was well protected and should be on his way back to Hogwarts, if he was not already there. So why had the Order members not withdrawn already?
Unless something that hindered their retreat had happened.
A chill went through Harry at that thought. If something happened to Draco, magic or no magic, Harry would make sure that the responsible ones got to pay their dues.
Shaking his head, Harry tried to calm himself with the knowledge that he didn't know any of this for sure. For all he knew this attack could be happening for some other reasons unknown to him.
Somehow that did nothing to calm Harry's sense of foreboding.
Knowing that he couldn't leave before he got answers to at least some of his questions, Harry pushed away from the wall, stumbling a little before regaining his balance. Perhaps he needed to get his head wound checked, it couldn't be good if it was affecting his sense of balance. Of course the headache from keeping the vision at bay wasn't any help either.
He wasn't sure how long he had before the hour would be over. Sure, he was under the Invisibility Cloak, but accidents happened, and he didn't want to think of what would happen if an enemy saw him once he had changed back.
To Harry the time limit had already been passed, but damn if he could be sure. He supposed he would know when the hour had gone when he changed back. As long as he kept the cloak on it should not matter.
Harry reached the edge of the town when things starting heading south for him.
Unlike when he had turned into Draco, Harry didn't feel his body stretch or his bones wrenching when he returned to his normal self. Harry knew that the change took a little time to happen, but it seemed rather notice able when his feet were swimming in Draco's shoes which were at least once size too big for his feet and he had to pull up the trousers unless he wanted to fall in them.
Having tried the Polyjuice Potion before, Harry was well aware of how painless the process normally was. But with burns, wounds and what not, it was an entire different talk.
Trying to get used to the changes Harry cursed under his breath. This was bad. Though with the cloak on, Harry knew that accidents could, and often would, happen. It also meant that he had spent less time in the shop than Harry had originally felt like it had been.
Now would have been good to have the other Polyjuice Potion he had seen Draco stuff back into his pocket before they had parted. But to get that he would have to find Draco first.
All hopes Harry had that his friend would be safely back at Hogwarts, were crushed as the Shrieking Shack came into view.
Draco, somehow still looking like him, was there. Wondering how Draco could still be wearing the disguise, Harry felt relief at seeing that Draco was guarded by the Lestranges. The blond had not drawn his wand, apparently opting to make this last for as long as possible.
Three of the four were moving, though making sure that they didn't get far from Draco and keeping him covered, both with their bodies and a dome that they were toeing the line with, but never crossing.
Coming closer Harry got the chance to see the reason to why the trio had been tasked with keeping him, or in this case Draco, safe.
Some of the Order members had the group mostly surrounded, ensuring that they had no way to retreat, while attacking the shield that protected the small group.
Yet, it was as if there was a telepathic connection between the three Lestranges. Harry was sure that Legilimency needed eye contact to work, but he would need to check up with Severus once he saw the man again.
They moved in sync, throwing curses at their attackers while keeping Draco and each other covered. When Rabastan kneeled down and started drawing something on the ground, his brother was quick to change his stance so he could cover a bigger area. Bellatrix was on the other side of Draco, crackling like a happy child and throwing insults with a sped that matched the one of the spells she used.
Unlike those at the street, the Lestranges were not hesitant to use lethal curses, the Killing Curse included, along with several others that would normally result in a long stay in Azkaban for using them.
Together they made an impressive sight, reminding Harry why they had been chosen as a part of Voldemort's inner circle from a young age.
But as impressive the sight was, it quickly became clear that the small group was at a disadvantage, despite being ruthless about every attack they lashed out with. The sheer number of the Order members they were up against made it seem like each time one was taken down, two more were ready to take over the spot of their fallen comrade. Just like the Lernean Hydra grew two more heads after one was slain.
Right now was not the time to ponder on where Dumbledore had managed to get this many followers from.
If it kept going like this, Harry wasn't sure how long their defences would last.
As it was the attacks were bouncing off the shield, thanks Morgana for that. But a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach warned Harry that it might not last. The continued existence of the dome only seemed to encourage the attackers to try more, but none of them had reached a deadly level. It was mostly because they didn't want risking who they thought was Harry.
When Draco's Polyjuice Potion stopped working for him, Harry knew that they would no longer view that as an obstacle.
What they needed right now was a diversion, big enough to give his friends the chance to get away, or at least somewhere where they had a better chance of defending themselves.
It was a shame that he didn't have the usual potions with him, the one he had used at Diablo's cage, mixed with some others would have caused a reaction perfectly suited for a situation like this.
The only objects he had on his person which were remotely magical were the bracelet and his Invisibility Cloak. One he could not take off and the cloak was the only thing that stopped anyone from realising that there was one Potter too many here.
But thinking time was cut short when a spell broke through the barrier, making it crumble and disappear, and stuck Rabastan right in his chest. Harry didn't care for what the curse was called, but he recognised it from when blood started seeping through Rabastan's dark purple robes from the wounds appearing on his chest.
Shock painted his face as Rabastan stumbled sideways, knocking into Rodolphus and effectively knocking the other's concentration as Rodolphus turned to support the other's weight, leaving himself open for a Stunner which wasn't seen before it was too late to get out of the way.
Bellatrix was too busy to notice that the two wizards had fallen. The moment the barrier was gone, the rebels had doubled the intensity of their attacks. It didn't seem to bother her the slightest as she danced around, taking down one enemy after another. Unfortunately, the witch's strength laid in offence rather than defence. And no matter how crazy or brilliant she might be, not even Bellatrix was able to keep going when odds were against her.
She was hit by two different spells at once, Harry was not sure about what they were or what they did, but at this moment he found that he couldn't take his eyes of Draco, who was standing alone, one hand inside his robe, probably looking for his wand.
A strong wind knocked the hood off Harry and he may have done something to catch Draco's attention, because his friend chose that moment to look and their eyes caught.
Harry was aware that Draco's lips were moving, though not sure what Draco wanted to tell him, it almost seemed like he was repeatedly saying sorry, but he might be wrong about that. Why would Draco be saying such a thing? Draco was a firm believer that Malfoys were always right, and thus they had no reason to apologise. So why would he start doing so now?
Noticing that Draco was holding his arm strangely Harry's eyes travelled downwards and his whole body froze as he stared at the wand that was unmistakably pointing at him. Seriously, what was it with people and pointing their wands in his direction? This was the third time it happened today, but the previous two times Harry had a rather good idea of the wielder's intention.
This time he had no clue about what Draco might have in mind. Astoria had done it because Harry had asked for it, and the Hufflepuff boy because some instinctive inside him had told him to defend himself.
Neither instances were like this and Harry remained still, waiting to see what Draco intended to do, though now was neither the time nor the place to do so. He needed to think of something he could do, but his body seemed unable to move.
The rebels were closing in on Draco, in fact they had been doing so before Bellatrix had even hit the ground. It meant that this whole interaction between them had been much shorter than Harry felt had been the case.
Yet, Draco was paying them no mind, only moving slightly to side when one of the rebels got in between them. That ended Harry's hopes that Draco might be pointing the wand at him by accident.
Why wasn't Draco attacking them? If he used his wand, the Order members were bound to realise that it was not the real Harry Potter they were dealing with.
Seeing sparks shot out of Draco's wand Harry moved to the side. But the spell caught him in the shoulder. Just before he blanked out Harry saw one of the rebels grabbing Draco's arm, the blond not even having tried to escape, and Apparate away. The only thing left was Draco's wand which the normally blond wizard had dropped the moment his spell hit its goal.
As he hit the ground Harry felt blackness surge forward to wrap around him like a mother's loving arms.
It was not unusual for him to see a vision repeatedly, and sometimes something happened along the road that changed the vision to a certain degree, but still leaving it recognisable.
However, this was the first time Harry was experiencing seeing himself in a vision, quite literary.
It was quite a strange sight, and slightly worrying, but not as worrying as the other version of the vision had been where he had been the one to be watched by Dumbledore. The other him was looking ruffled, and the usual braid was half undone, and adding the drying cakes of mud on the black shaded robes left Harry with the impression that the other him hadn't gotten there by his own will. But there was a lack of bruises and wounds so the fight he might have put up couldn't have been that great.
But with magic added into the calculation Harry guessed that the lack of damage was not so telling.
Once again he was in the tent, the perch empty, himself and Dumbledore sitting across each other.
There was no bindings holding this Harry in place, but already having experienced this, Harry knew that magic was used instead of physical bounds.
"Would you mind a lemon drop?" The Harry on the chair looked up at Dumbledore for the first time, while Dumbledore was watching the second Harry with crinkles around his blue eyes.
Harry stepped closer, stopping when he felt the edge of the table against his hip, his gaze never leaving the pair as he waited to see what would be happening. He was completely overlooked, which calmed Harry's fast beating heart since this proved that he was not a part of the vision, this time he was merely observing.
The other Harry said nothing, and after waiting for a while but getting no response Dumbledore ate the offered sweet.
Harry watched as his other self sat stiff in the chair, looking above Dumbledore's head and not meeting the old man's eyes, how strange.
"My boy, you shall know that I am immensely happy that you have finally seen reason. Your parents would be proud to know that you have decided to return to us. With the aid of your visions, we will be able to turn the tide of this war." Finishing speaking, Dumbledore rested his chin on his intervened hands.
Both Harrys snorted, but only one of them gained a look of concern from the white bearded wizard. "It was my choice to come here, but if you believe that this will make a difference in your petty little rebellion, you are sadly mistaken." As this was said the hair of the other Harry started to lighten in colour until it turned blond.
)00(
Merlin, he felt like he'd been trampled over by a herd of rampaging Hippogriffs.
Right now he wanted nothing more than to sink back in the darkness, even if it meant that he might witness another vision.
Oh, he had had a vision. It was similar to the one where he had awoken and bitten his hand until it was a bloody mess. But it was not something he could simply push aside and forget. Besides, Draco had been in it. So, his friend had really been kidnapped and brought to Dumbledore under the belief that Draco was him.
Which meant, that he couldn't afford lying around, he should get up and report what he had observed.
It would be easier to do if his body wasn't dead set on staying right where it was.
What had happened to make it be like this?
Now he remembered it, Draco had fired some kind of spell at him, effectively knocking Harry out so he could not do something to help his friend. Next time he saw Draco, Harry would make it understood that he did not appreciate such antics.
But whatever Draco had done was wearing off, seeing as Harry at least was able to produce conscious thoughts. That had to be considered an improvement, which was probably the only positive thought Harry could come up with right now.
Back to his original problem, he needed to get up, or at least open his eyes, so he could get an idea of what the situation was.
He could also just stay right where he was, waiting for the spell to wear off on its own, after all he couldn't even as much as twist a finger.
"Enervate."
Or, he could also just let someone cast the counter spell on him, which worked just as well.
Despite every cell in his body seeming to be in pain, Harry spun into movement. If he had been found by an enemy, he couldn't allow them to get him. And if they already had taken him somewhere, he would do his best to escape them.
Grabbing the nearest object Harry flung it at where the voice had come from. By the sound of it he had hit its target, thought Harry doubted that his attack had had much of an effect. As strange as it was the object he had thrown had felt very much felt like a pillow.
And then he rolled off the soft surface he had been on, which was definitely not the ground he had been lying on before losing consciousness.
He landed on what felt like stone floor with a huff, heeling rather battered as he rolled back towards whatever bed he had managed to fall off, stopping when he was on his stomach and a wall stopped him from moving further in that direction.
Knowing that he needed to know where he was so he could get away, Harry opened his eyes, and turned his head so he could look over him and found himself to be what looked to be beneath a bed.
Sneezing a couple of times Harry decided that whoever the owner of the bed was, they seriously needed to get some cleaning done. It couldn't be healthy for anyone to sleep with so much dust under their bed.
"It is not beneath me to pull you out of your little hiding place, brat. Now get out from there so I can see how much damage you have managed to do to your empty head with that stunt of yours." Relief filled Harry at the well-known and calming sound of Severus' voice. He doubted that anyone would be able to get the snark just right even with the aid of potions and spells.
It meant that he was safe.
Unless he stayed where he was any longer, it might cause Severus to lose what little patience the Potions master possessed when it came to dealing with something not potion related.
It took a bit longer to get out from the bed than it had taken for him to get under it. His hands especially were sore, though not to the degree Harry knew that they were supposed to be after his tour in the flames. But it was enough to make him grimace whenever his hands came in touch with something.
Free from his hiding place, Harry rolled around so he was on his back and could look up at Severus. From this point of view the man looked unnatural big, almost like a giant, even if he was sitting down.
As he lay on the floor and simply looked at Severus, Harry started to notice several hints on the man that told him that something was off. The unusually pristine black robes were rumbled, almost like he had slept with them on, but he had dark bags under his eyes, reminding Harry of a panda. The long hair, which looked somewhat greasy on a good day, looked like Severus had spent a whole week over a cauldron non-stop without bothering to use the usual protecting oils he used to prevent that result.
"Get up from the floor." The curt voice left Harry with no room to argue. Not that he planned on doing so. The floor was not a particularly comfortable place to rest on.
Getting back onto the bed where he sat on the edge of the mattress, Harry realised that he was back in his old room. Despite the look Severus sent him, Harry didn't move any further. He refused to lie down. He had gotten enough rest to last him for a long while.
Severus chose not to comment on it. "Sit still." Doing as he was told, Harry let Severus get up and probe the skin near his hair line. When the long fingers pressed against a particular sore spot, Harry could not quite contain a wince. "I cleaned it for dirt before appending the potion to heal the gash, but you can expect to be tender there for the next day. Your hands will take longer to heal, though the burns were easily taken care of, you need to be careful as the skin on them re-grows, otherwise you risk that something might be deformed, which will become a hinder in future potion brewing." The man drawled.
Harry nodded, stared down at his bandaged hands. How exactly had he not noticed this before? Now where he was aware of it, Harry could feel a dull lingering pain. No doubt that the potions he had been feed were still working on undoing the damage done to his hands.
Pushing Severus' hand away, careful of using his wrist instead of the damaged appendages, Harry stood. "We need to find Draco." Perhaps, if they were lucky they would find Draco before something was done to the blond. A quick glance out of the window behind him, told Harry that the sun had only started rising. For how long had he been asleep? It was valuable time lost.
Knowing that the Burn Paste took time to work after it had been applied, it meant that Dumbledore would already know that he had gotten his hands on the wrong person.
He wasn't sure how they should locate Draco just from the vision, but he would think of something.
He was pushed back onto his bed and Severus moved so he stood in the way for Harry to get up again. "Draco has yet to be located. Where is he? I assume that your vision included him?" Harry was taken back by Severus sudden eagerness. It was rare that Severus let bigger emotions escape him, and seeing it only served to put Harry on an edge.
"We both drank the Polyjuice Potion, so we could pass as each other at Hogsmeade." Harry found it hard to meet Severus' gaze while speaking, and yet he could not look away. Though the position he had to tilt his head backwards into, was anything but comfortable. It also bared his throat, but if anyone, it was Severus he trusted not to harm him, no matter how much darker Severus seemed to grow as Harry told him his side of the story, ending it with the vision he had witnessed.
At the end of it, his voice broke and Harry decided that it was not to speak more. Instead he stared at Severus, waiting to see what the man planned on doing.
Harry startled when a vial with a Sleeping Draught in it landed in his lap, uncorking it and taking a quick sniff confirmed his suspicion. "I think I've slept enough." He said, not letting go of the vial. He would put it behind Severus to force the potion if he felt he had to. Severus hadn't done it before, but right now Harry wasn't sure how far he could push Severus before the man decided to snap.
"You need rest. Despite being healed, your body still requires sleep so it can restore your energy levels. And a stunner induced one does not count." Severus trapped his wand against his thigh, a clear sign that he was at his last wit and expected obedience. Under normal circumstances Harry would probably have complied, but he needed answers and there was only one person here who could give them to him.
"Why didn't anyone come to our help?" He rattled the question off in a fast pace, not giving Severus a chance to silence him before he had asked his share.
Two fingers pinched the bridge of Severus' nose, but Harry decided to overlook the almost screaming proof of Severus' annoyance. The man couldn't simply expect him to go back to sleep without protests, at the same time he knew that the longer it took reporting the vision, the lesser the chance of finding Draco might be.
But that was the reason to why Harry had only asked one question out of the myriad of thousands which were mingling around in his head.
"Drink it before you sleep again, it will ensure that you sleep undisturbed, we will be talking later." Harry sat as frozen as Severus turned and swept out of the room, the robe swiping in his leave.
Sighing in resignation Harry buried his head in his hands, with his arms solid planted on his knees. Seriously, he shouldn't have been surprised by Severus' choice of actions. Draco was Severus' godson, and knowing that Draco was missing and in the hands of the enemy had to be just as awful to him as it was for Harry.
Harry counted to thirty in his head, and then he repeated the process twice, just to make sure that Severus had been given plenty of time to leave their quarters.
Removing his hands, Harry rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of the pyjamas top he was wearing, making sure that there was no sign of the withheld tears. "Dobby."
A pop sounded, and, despite having expected it, Harry nearly jumped out of his own skin when Dobby appeared not far from where he sat.
The house-elf eyed him nervously. Undoubtedly, Dobby remembered his lie when Harry had called for him the last time. Harry certainly hadn't forgotten, despite the pleasant result he had gotten out of it.
Knowing how house-elves worked, Dobby had already punished himself plenty for it, probably far harsher than Harry would like to think of.
The whole thing kind of paled in comparison to the last twenty-four hours. At least he hoped that no longer time had passed. Severus' hadn't mentioned anything about how long he had been out for.
Before Dobby could speak, or possible punish himself further for tricking Harry, the seer spoke up. "Can you find out if my friends are alright?" It was something which had gnawed on Harry consciousness since he remembered what had happened.
Were they okay, or had any of them been as unlucky as Theo? Merlin, he hoped not. He had seen the Lestranges' fall, and though there had been a lot of blood, he doubted that they had died. If nothing else, then because whatever afterlife that might be, wasn't ready to face Bellatrix' craziness.
Somehow, he doubted that those on the other side would ever be ready, and therefore Bellatrix might get to live forever and unleash her terror on the world long after they all were gone.
At least Harry was sure that none of them shared Draco's predicament. The Order members had not seemed interested in going after anyone but him, or at least the one whom they thought was Harry Potter.
Still, he would rather know for sure than be taken by surprise at some later time.
Draco was in the hands of the rebels, and Dumbledore would be mad that his small lapdogs had taken the wrong person. And, they would most likely take their anger out on Draco. In their eyes he was an enemy they had in their power.
But that he hoped he would be able to change.
By the time Dobby returned, Harry had gotten up and dressed himself. His fingers occupied with braiding the last part of his hair, Harry raised an eyebrow at Dobby, who was jumping from one foot to another, as if he was standing on hot coal. "Mr. Blaise Zabini is being moody in the den of snakies, with Ms. Pansies Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle is being with him. The three Lestranges is being in a naughty moodsy in the Healing room."
Hearing this Harry let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding since Dobby's arrival. At least the rest of his friends were alive, if not alright. The knowledge of their welfare relieved Harry of a small part of the burden he felt resting on his shoulders.
A thanks was on his lips, but Harry swallowed the word, not needing to deal with a hysteric house-elf right now. "Is there anyone in the Potions laboratory?" He asked, finishing the braid and using a leather band to ensure that it would not wound up.
"Great Master Harry Potter is being resting, not is brewing nasty, smelly potions." The last part was being muttered, as if Dobby didn't intend for Harry to hear it, even though they were standing within touching distance of each other.
Harry's other eyebrow joined the other one on its way up to his hairline, while he weighted his options carefully. He couldn't very well order the house-elf to leave and not tell anyone something. He wasn't Dobby's master and thus, Dobby could find someone and tell on him. That was something Harry would like to avoid.
It also meant that he couldn't simply order Dobby away, it would lead to the same result.
Harry supposed that it left him with one choice of action.
So in one move he crouched down, bringing himself to eyelevel with Dobby, and he allowed a friendly smile to slip onto his lips. "Listen, Dobby." Harry spoke slowly, as if trying to communicate with a small child. "I know I need to rest, but I can't do so in a bed. I need something to do or I will go crazy. Making potions relax me, so I will be following orders and be happy." He opted for a glad voice that sounded much too stiff to his own ears to be believable.
Dobby took hold of his large ears and tugged at them harshly. Green, tennis ball sized eyes turned on him. "Great Master Harry Potter is liking making nasty, smelly potions?" Harry nodded the move felt more easy than the smile he was forcing himself to keep up. "The nasty, smelly Potions room is being empty." Dobby squeaked, leaving with a pop before Harry could possible ask more that made the house-elf feel like he was going against orders of some kind.
A little tired Harry got back up on his feet, minding his sore hands. It was best he got going before Dobby remade his mind and came back to tie Harry to the bed, or something equally annoying that the house-elf thought would mean that he was being helpful.
Shortly after that, Harry departed. He hadn't been able to locate his Invisibility Cloak, but Severus had most likely confiscated the piece of fabric to prevent a situation like this. It merely made Harry all the more determined to not get caught.
With long strides Harry moved through the castle's lower levels. The few portraits he passed on his route paid too much attention for his own liking. Harry hoped that it was merely a passing interest and not because they had been told to keep an eye on him. If so, Harry would end up in trouble much sooner than he had counted for.
He met no students, or any other people on his walk. It wasn't late enough for the curfew to be in place, so was it because of the recent attack? Harry wondered what the consequences of it would be. In the years he had been at Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix seemed to have stuck to small things. An attack there, a kidnapping attempt on a politician there, a murder attack as the words, whether they succeeded or not varied.
It brought to question why they had decided to attack Hogsmeade. How had they known that he would be there, or had it been a lucky guess from them? Somehow he doubted that. It would be rather easy for them to find out. A student, someone for Hogsmeade, and even one of the professors who were loyal to Dumbledore could have spotted Draco prowling around as him and have given the word along to the Order.
So-
Harry's stream of thoughts were cut off abruptly when he walked directly into something hard and unmoving. Muttering a dark curse under his breath and taking a step back while he rubbed his sore nose, Harry glared at the wall he had collided with, wondering where it had come from and why he hadn't seen it.
Two steps to the right was the door which led to the Potions laboratory.
With crossed fingers Harry opened the door, hoping that Dobby had been correct when saying that there would be no one in there. He didn't want to explain what he was doing here instead of being in his bed.
Dobby had indeed been telling the truth. There were no people in there, and no cauldron had a fire lit under it. It meant that Harry wouldn't be disturbed by someone who was in the middle of brewing something and whom needed to check up on the process.
Still, it didn't exactly give him any guaranty for how long he would stay undisturbed.
With that in mind, Harry grabbed a small cauldron from a nearby table, deeming it fit to make the potion he wanted to make, and also big enough to carry the things he needed.
From one shelf he grabbed a jar of bloodroots, taking three before he put the jar back on its place. After that he added seven bat wings, four hairs from a unicorn's tail, willingly given, of course.
As his hands moved, Harry mentally went over the list of ingredients he needed. He took a bigger amount and some ingredients which wouldn't be necessary, all of which he would discard before using the potion. What he would do, would not go unnoticed, but he wanted to make it hard, if not next to impossible, for anyone to figure out how he'd made the potion.
When the cauldron was almost filled to the brim, Harry knew that he was ready to leave. The only problem he had now, was to find somewhere to actually brew the potion. He couldn't very well stay here. Once Severus returned, the man would know he was missing, and this was one of the first places Severus would come looking for him. Depending on his mood, and how quickly he grew tired of looking, Harry might just have long enough to finish the potion and use it before Severus alerted Voldemort that something was going on.
It was lucky that he already had a place in his mind, otherwise he might have been well and truly screwed.
"Severus is going to murder me." There was no doubt about this. Several of the ingredients he'd had taken were costly, both those he needed, but also those he intended to simply throw away to throw them off his track when they would be trying to figure out how he'd made the potion.
Hopefully, he would be able to inform them of Draco's whereabouts before Severus killed him for wasting all those ingredients.
Using the hidden corridors and short cuts he knew of, Harry managed to avoid anyone who might be wandering around in the corridors. He didn't see hide nor back of anyone, and yet Harry felt like he was ready to jump at the first sight of danger.
He guessed he could blame his adrenaline level for his way of acting. Between the attack, Draco's kidnapping and now sneaking around, he didn't have a good chance to relax and not act like a scary cat.
He reached the second floor, and as he stepped out from behind the gargoyle guarding the hidden corridor he had just used, he looked up and down the corridor. Seeing no one, he crossed the open space, ducking his head. The door was quickly opened, and closed again as soon as he was inside the room and away from the open corridor.
Breathing heavily, Harry leaned back against the door, trying to calm his fast beating heart, which felt like it was digging its way out through his chest.
A quick look around proved that there was no one but him in the bathroom. At least, no one alive. "So, you have finally decided to visit me." From one of the toilet stalls Myrtle came floating through the closed wood door. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and looked anything but pleased at seeing him.
Harry gave her an apologetic smile. It was true, he'd been neglecting his friend. "Sorry, Myrtle. They weren't so keen to let me visit after I found the entrance to the Chamber." It wasn't even a lie. Both Severus and Voldemort had sat down with him and made him understand that they did not approve of him doing something which put his life in danger.
It made Harry wonder how they would react once they found out what he had done. Harry really didn't look forward to that.
Harry shifted his hold a little so Myrtle had a chance to see what he was carrying, Harry said. "But I really missed spending time with you, and I hoped that you could help me with making a potion, I want to surprise the others, and since you are so good at keeping a secret-" He trailed off, not sure if he had overdone it. If Myrtle thought that he was lying to her, she would rattle him out faster than Harry would be able to find somewhere else he could hide.
"Why didn't you say that right away?" Myrtle cooed, looking positively delightful as she floated closer to Harry, her fingers brushing over his wrist without the bracelet. "For you, I'll do my best." She promised, her eyelashes fluttering a strange way.
Harry ignored the cold shiver her touch brought, numbing his whole arm, so he had to force his arm up if he didn't want to drop his things. "Great, Myrtle, in fact there is a very important thing I need your help with." The ghost puffed out her chest in pride, clearly pleased that Harry needed her for something. He supposed that it made sense. Most people didn't ask for ghost's help, unless it was because they had gotten lost, or something equally boring.
Being a ghost sounded boring, unless one was Peeves, who knew how to entertain himself with pranking and creating trouble for the students at Hogwarts.
Still, Harry would rather pass on than have to stay back and watch his friends and beloved ones pass on to whatever happened after this life ended.
That was definitely not happening, and he needed to get back on track if those not so subtle looks Myrtle was giving him meant anything. "I need one more ingredient, which is in greenhouse three. It's called Movens Comedentis, and it shouldn't be hard to find. Since I found it, it wouldn't be stealing. You're merely bringing it back to its original owner and doing me a favour." Sensing that she was not fully convinced, Harry freed a hand and placed it on her shoulder. The coldness attacked him instantly, but he kept his hand where it was, careful not to let it fall through her transparent body, though it proved to be a challenge the longer he had to do this. "Please, Myrtle, I really need it and if I got caught, they'll ground me and then I can't come and visit you." Already before he got a reluctant nod from her, Harry knew that he had won this argument. "Thanks, Myrtle, you're the best."
He tried not to feel bad at the smile she gave him right before she left. It told him that she would expect some form of payment for this.
Since the plant was the last thing he needed, he might as well get started while he had the chance to work undisturbed.
Harry chose to settle down so the sinks were between him and the door. That way, if someone should enter, he would have some time to react. It wouldn't be much, but hopefully it would be enough.
Lighting a small fire under the cauldron Harry waited for it to gain the right temperature, preparing the troll nails and other ingredients he needed while doing so.
He knew that the bathroom was far from the best place to brew such a potion, any kind of potion in fact. With the bacteria, and different light and air, it could cause an unstable potion to explode.
It was a damn good thing that he didn't plan on brewing something, right?
Harry just hoped that luck would be on his side in this.
He had never been allowed to brew this potion himself, after all he had been too young and a squib to boot, and they had known that he would botch up the potion if he was given the chance, even if it would have meant his own death.
The ingredients weren't exactly cheap and he had had every reason to ruin it. Still, Harry was fairly sure that he would be able to brew the potion which had made a big part of his life turn into hell.
When the cauldron reached the proper temperature, Harry dropped the sliced bloodroot together with the crushed troll nails into it. He preferred not to think of what he had done as stealing, though others would probably say otherwise.
If it wasn't for Draco, Harry wouldn't be doing this. Then again, if Draco hadn't been posing as him, his friend would not have been kidnapped, so Harry supposed that this would even it out.
It was strange to think how much things had changed since they first met. Back then they hadn't been able to stand the mere sight of each other. Now he would happily take revenge on anyone who caused as much as a blond strand to be out of place.
It was rather disturbing, if he allowed his thoughts to linger on the subject for too long.
"Harry, I got the plant!" It was only because he had expected her return, that Harry didn't drop the unicorn hairs down in the cauldron when Myrtle spoke up from behind him.
Instead he breathed deeply and waited until the potion turned lavender before dropping the hairs into the potion, stirring five times counter-clockwise.
Then his brain registered what she had said, and Harry twisted around in his seated position on the floor, thankfully it was time for a small break in the brewing anyway, careful that he didn't accidentally knocked over the cauldron by doing so.
Any annoyance he might have felt died right on the spot when he saw that Myrtle was indeed holding the small plant he'd sent her after. It didn't look any different from what it had done when he had dug it out of the soil. "Thanks, Myrtle, you're absolute brilliant." Harry wasn't quite sure if it was even possible, but the ghost seemed to blush, though it could just be a girl thing.
He took the offered plant and placed it by his side. The colder climate in Scotland was enough to keep it docile, at least until someone provoked the plant. It was all about balance. Too cold, and the plant would wither, but if it grew too warm, it would get up and start attacking anyone nearby before moving on to somewhere else.
As it was the flower head was hanging limp. If not because he knew how deadly it was, he would almost have been inclined to feel sorry for it. Almost.
Why was he even trying to figure out what he felt for a plant? That head wound had messed up his mind more than it should have been able to.
Or perhaps it was because this was more comfortable to think about then the other things his mind could dwell on.
When the potion became thick after he had added the pixie wings, Harry sighed. Now he would have to wait for five minutes before he could add the last ingredient. Hopefully, the plant would work as it was supposed to according to theory, otherwise he might be well and truly screwed.
Knowing that time was ticking, Harry gathered the remaining ingredients, leaving the Movens Comedentis where it was. Roughly an hour had passed since he left his room. Severus might have returned and found him gone by now, if that was the case he would be looking for Harry.
He needed to get rid of those before someone stumbled over his hiding place.
After ensuring that he had gotten it all, Harry strode over to the nearest toilet stall. Myrtle followed after him, so closely that Harry could feel the coldness from her seep through his body. "Are you sure that this is a good idea?" She asked worriedly as Harry held the ingredients over the open toilet.
What he was about to do, plagued him. Not only was there several costly ingredients among those he was about to throw out, but Harry knew that he was breaking Severus' confidence in him by doing this. "Don't worry, you won't be blamed." He calmed her as he emptied his arms' content down in the toilet. He flushed it, and kept doing so until he was sure that nothing would resurface.
Inside, he was impressed that the toilet was able to take this much, it had to be because of the wonders of magic. He seriously doubted that a Muggle toilet would be able to take it all.
Satisfied that he had destroyed the evidences, Harry hurried back to the potion, which had started bubbling lazily and turned into a familiar shade of brown.
Harry grimaced, he knew that the thick liquid tasted just as bad as it looked and smelled. It was definitely something which he did not look forward to.
Though, right now he needed to focus on the task at hand.
"So, what does it do? I mean, some people might find it pretty, but it has to have a use, right? It's kind of ugly though." Myrtle's voice came from somewhere over his left shoulder, she was close, but not so she was hovering over him, literary.
Leaning slightly forward, holding a flask ready in one hand, Harry rubbed the plant under its head, watching it steadily lift and move until it was facing him. "It's supposed to help me have some control over what visions I see." Slughorn had come up with the theory while Harry had been staying with the rebels, luckily, because of the plant's rarity; Slughorn had not been able to prove his own theory.
Or, perhaps they had simply not seen the use in letting him have any control. After all, there had been no way that Harry would be willing to see something that would support them.
He had killed the man, and yet, here he was, not even half a year later, and was ready to do something which would prove Slughorn right.
Though the thought of it was more than disturbing, Harry had no intention about backing down now.
Shaking his head, Harry pushed the thought aside. This wasn't what he needed to focus on right now.
The plant jerked back and when it spit, Harry was ready for it. Seeing the yellow coloured substance fly towards him, Harry held the flask up in front of him, catching the poison.
Since he didn't feel any burning pain and no part of him seemed to be melting, Harry would say that it was safe to assume that he hadn't been hit by any of the poison. If that had been the case, he would have been lying on the floor right now, withering and screaming because of the pain.
Harry stared at the poison sceptically. It was thin, yellow and smelled too much like piss for him to be comfortable of the thought of adding the substance to his potion, nonetheless drinking it.
And yet, that was exactly what he planned on doing.
Pushing the plant far enough away, so its poison wouldn't reach him if it decided to spit at him again, Harry placed the flask down.
He needed to add the poison now, at least according to theory he was. If it was done too late, the potion and poison wouldn't mix because of the coldness.
Using his sleeves to cover his palms the best he could, Harry grabbed the handles and lifted the cauldron from the fire. Incomprehensible hisses passed over his lips as the heat went through the thin fabric, a great opposite to the coldness he felt coming from Myrtle who was staying close behind him.
Instead he bit his lip to contain any sounds that might have passed over them otherwise. This was nowhere as bad as what he had felt when he had passed through the fire together with Astoria. But his hands weren't fully healed yet, and thus it felt more painful than it normally would have been.
Harry tilted the cauldron, watching as the thick, brown liquid dripped into the flask, which was held between his thighs.
As soon as the last drop had passed over, Harry placed the cauldron on the floor, wincing as he clenched and unclenched his hands. He would have to check up on the damage done later on.
Right now he just had to wait for the potion to cool down enough so he would be able to drink it.
The door opened, making Harry jerk his head up in surprise that someone had actually decided to use the bathroom. It was supposed to be a place which people avoided.
Green eyes widened when red, angry orbs locked with them. The man was dressed in dark brown robes, and his hair was messed up, another sign that he hadn't had any rest lately was the dark shadows under his red eyes.
A dangerous aurora was surrounding Voldemort, and Harry knew that he was in serious trouble now. The wand which was being lifted to point at him was a great hint about this.
Without a second thought Harry grabbed the flask between his thighs, his hand cramping in protest of being moved. Harry kept Voldemort's gaze as he placed the opening at his lips and tilted back.
As he had known, the potion was way too hot to be drunk, and yet Harry knew that there was no other option. Voldemort would prevent him from doing this if the man was given the chance, and Harry would let nothing stand in his way in his quest for finding Draco.
Harry gagged, feeling his entrails twist in protest over having to digest the disgusting potion. Luckily, nothing came up again, though, at this point Harry might have preferred if that had happened.
As blackness overtook his senses, Harry realised that this might have been a rather bad idea. But unlike all the other times he had been forced to take the dammed potion, Harry didn't fight against the potion's pull.
It was time to see if he could find his friend.
Next: A rescue mission.