Harry managed to make it into February before everything went to pot; dutifully attending classes training in the Room of Requirement during his free time and studying 'Occlumancy' with Snape; Counting down the days in quiet anticipation until the date he'd given Draco would arrive. But then, of course, the chaos which had followed him for nearly all his life returned, this time in the form of Hermione, Rita Skeeter and an interview with the Quibbler.
The thing had been planned to take place on the next Hogsmead visit, which happened to be on Valentine's Day, and Harry had gone expecting to have to find some way to whittle away the time before it only to run into 'Julian' and, to his utter shock, be subjected to a romantic date at one of the more tasteful couple's spots in the village. The disguised Dark Lord accompanied him from there to the meeting with the (due to Hermione's blackmailing skills) currently washed up reporter and the interview went…mostly well up until the point Rita dropped a line about whether or not he'd ever find a girlfriend. The Dark Lord hissed like a viper which had been stepped on and lit the woman's Quik-Quotes-Quill on fire.
She was lucky that the man had to keep up a façade and that they were in public, because otherwise he'd have done far worse than that to her.
After that, matters spiraled into less than pleasant things. The interview, despite its hosting publisher, was well received. Umbridge, displeased (and that was putting it lightly), had assigned him a fresh round of detentions despite 'Julian's' warning back in October and banned the Quibbler from Hogwarts. The other teachers, however, had been quite happy with his 'defiance' and lavished him with gifts and points at random for such innocuous things as sneezing.
After that had been the melodrama of the Hag's attempt to throw Trelawney out of the castle which, sadly, was thwarted by Dumbledore's appearance; where Umbridge had the power to sack the witch she didn't have the power to remove her from the castle and so the witch remained. The professor hired to replace her was none other than the centaur who had rescued him from the Forbidden Forest during his first year: Firenze.
And, of course, no visit by chaos could be complete without some contribution from Fred and George: the twins had grown tired of their schooling and of the squat toad-woman and, with their funds for their joke shop in order, had decided to go out with a bang. Literally.
The bloody fireworks they lit off remained behind in the school for a week!
At least the things which had been under even his partial control had gone off without a hitch. Draco did his job well, turning the letter over to the toad at the exact date and time included and, that night, Umbridge crashed in on proceedings half-way through his lesson on Patronus Charms. Dobby's pre-emptive warning, though, had allowed enough time for them to scatter leading to Harry being the only one caught. And only because he'd wanted to be.
Hauled off to Dumbledore's office, confronted with the Headmaster; deputy Headmistress; Minister of Magic; Percy; and a number of Aurors he'd been forced to watch Fudge and Umbridge both descend into a frenzy over the contents of his letter. A bland act of innocence following cues from the Headmaster and, after the revelation of the list of names Hermione had hung on the wall, Dumbledore's stereotypically Gryffindor escape through phoenix fire post taking the fall for him led to Harry finding himself let off unscathed.
Once back in his bunk in Gryffindor tower, he couldn't stop smiling.
Umbridge had, of course, appointed herself the castle's new Headmistress before the night was out but, not taking kindly to her, Hogwarts locked the office; she was forced to settle for being set apart from the rest of the staff only be an official looking plaque and only became all the more tyrannical as a result. There were also a number of minor occurrences of note which took place after Dumbledore's flight while Harry waited for the time to come at which he would implement the final stage of his plan; namely Ron winning the Quidditch cup for Gryffindor and the revelation that Hagrid's badly beaten appearance was at the fault of his half-brother, a giant named Grawp.
Now, on the morning of their first theoretical OWL, Harry ducked into the showers with the spring of anticipation in his step. It was time. Finally, finally, it was time to dispense with all of the 'Golden Boy' nonsense and be done with all of them! By the end of the night he'd be safely home in Slytherin manor, the prophecy in hand and fully prepared to receive his reward.
All it would take was an over-acted caricature of one of his 'visions', a fabricated rescue mission and the eager assistance of the useful idiots who called themselves his 'friends'. When the Order rushed to save them he'd take the afforded chance to dispense with his Godfather as well; surely there was something in the Department of Mysteries he could use to off him, and if all else failed there was always the old fashioned way.
Stepping out of the shower and drying himself off, Harry dressed himself in clean clothes strapped the disillusioned dagger to his thigh and, after making certain the dorm room was empty, summoned his assistant. "Kreacher!"
With the resonant crack which had by now become familiar the squat and aged House Elf appeared before him. "What can Kreacher do for Harry Potter?"
"I've an assignment from the Dark Lord to retrieve something from the Department of Mysteries but, not knowing what I'll face there and aiming to get rid of as many future threats as possible, I find it necessary to drag along assistance. My History of Magical Theoretical is in another hour; halfway through I'm going to 'have a vision' and call on you. You're to confirm that Sirius has indeed left Grimmauld Place against Dumbledore's orders."
"Kreacher understands." The elf wheezed. "Is that all which Harry Potter requires?"
"There's one more thing." He said. "You're to tell Sirius that I've been lured to the Department of Mysteries by the Dark Lord. Make sure he tags along with the members of the Order who are sent to the rescue. The Death Eaters sent to assist me will, hopefully, take care of all of them." 'Hopefully' because what he, at least, had seen of their competence left much to be desired. "Repeat what I've asked of you; mistakes cannot be afforded."
"Harry Potter wants Kreacher to come when he is called and tell him that his Master has left. He is the to tell his Master that Harry Potter has fallen for the Dark Lord's trap and is in danger. When the Order goes to help him, Kreacher is to make sure his Master is with them."
The raven nodded sharply. "Good. That's all. Return to Grimmauld Place; I have to make at least some appearance at breakfast." When the elf vanished again Harry shrunk his belongings and took a detour to the owlry to send them off with Hedwig before heading to the Great Hall.
Conversation among his year mates was…subdued. Ron looked somewhat green in the face with nerves despite the OWL ahead not being one of particular importance. Hermione was buried in a book on Arithmancy, no longer needing to study for the immediately looming test in particular. Around the table at even intervals notes and textbooks could be seen pulled out for a bit of (futile) last minute studying. Despite anticipation having murdered his appetite Harry buttered a few pieces of toast and forced himself to eat.
Harry spent the vast majority of the OWL alternating between staring blankly at the test paper in front of him as his hand moved without attention and watching the sand fall through the giant hour glass at the front of the room until Nihil, crouched beside the desk with only his eyes peering over the top, became annoyed enough to start pointing out answers for him. Forty five minutes passed that way, interspersed with comments like "B. B, damn it, not A!" and "Vampires have no connection to the Statute of Secrecy breach in 1749, idiot!" until Harry determined that the time to begin had at last arrived.
Putting his head down on his arms he mimed sleeping for another ten minutes, Nihil alerting him each time sixty seconds worth of sand had slipped through the hour glass, before letting out a yowl and falling sideways out of his chair. Toppling onto the floor. Clutching at his scar as if it were paining him. His body writing as it had in the graveyard when he'd been held under Cruciatus, screaming all the while; an agonized sound which only spluttered off when his throat had been stripped red-raw.
The Great Hall, as expected, exploded into chaos. Students leapt up from their chairs, some retreating and all staring, open mouthed and wide eyed, at the display. One of the proctors rushing up to him. Hauling him off the floor. Supporting him when his knees buckled. Shuffling him out of the room.
Nihil made an exaggerated swooning motion which was highly reminiscent of the one Draco had mocked him with during his third year, after his encounter with a Dementor on the Express. Harry ignored him; instead concentrating on digging his heels into the flagstone floor to stop himself from being frog marched any further. After convincing the elderly wizard that he'd simply had a nightmare and had in fact done all he could on the exam he was left alone to await the inevitable arrival of Ron and Hermione.
His 'friends' did not disappoint arriving at the Room of Requirement where he'd taken refuge the moment they could after the exams had concluded. He didn't give them a chance to speak before dropping his line. "Voldemort's got Sirius!" The reaction was as he'd expected and Harry explained himself further with "I saw it! Just now, when I fell asleep in the exam!"
"But where?" Hermione's face was white as snow. "How?"
"I don't know how." He snapped, internally grimaced, and then injected the proper amount of tremor back into his voice. "But I do know where. The same place where the snake attacked Ron's dad; there's a big room there full of shelves of balls of glowing glass. They're at the end of row 97." Pausing for effect, he mimed having to swallow down a lump in his throat. "There's something he wants. He thinks Sirius can get it for him. He's torturing him; says he'll kill him." Moving over to the nearest piece of furniture Harry collapsed onto it and put his head in his hands. "How are we going to get there?"
This lead to another expected reaction which culminated in Hermione attempting to convince him better off wanting to go by claiming he had a saving people thing. Harry, in turn, played the "he's the only family I have," card and broke down into hysterical tears.
At this point Ginny, Neville and Luna came into the room stating they'd seen Ron and Hermione headed to the seventh floor and had heard about what had happened, and after an obligatory argument about not involving them he had successfully roped all five into his trap and arrived at the final stage. When Hermione, exasperated, suggested they determine whether Sirius had really left before they did anything Harry knew that he had won.
"We can Floo him, can't we?"
"Ron, the fireplaces are probably being watched by that awful woman! We need to find some other way-."
"Kreacher." It came out hiccupped. Harry sat curled up in the chair he'd fallen into, knees pulled up to his chest and eyes over bright.
"What, mate?" Ron asked.
"I can call Kreacher. Over the holidays…Sirius told me that I have Black blood. I can call him; he'll have to come."
"Well, it's certainly safer than trying to use the Floo." Hermione said after a draw out pause. "And he does seem rather fond of you."
"Because that bloody portrait thinks he's the Heir of Slytherin." Ginny grumbled.
"Either way, it's settled." The brunet witch said. "Let's see what he has to say before we do anything rash."
Everything had all gone perfectly. As he called "Kreacher!" loudly enough to summon the elf Harry almost couldn't stop himself from grinning.
"Harry Potter has called for Kreacher?" the elf croaked, shooting furtive glances at the raven. "What does he want, Kreacher wonders?"
"Is Sirius at Number Twelve?"
Kreacher stared for a long time, seeming reluctant to divulge the information, and then said "Master has gone out."
"Out?" he repeated, making his voice jump with a tinge of fear. "Out where?" The House Elf cackled. Harry took a step forward. "Out where? I'm warning you!"
"Master did not tell Kreacher where he's gone."
"Liar!" He snarled. "He's at the Department of Mysteries, isn't he?"
"Harry-." Hermione attempted to intervene but he drowned her out with a roar.
"Isn't he?"
Again, the elf cackled. "Master will not return from the Department of Mysteries. Kreacher and his Mistress are all alone again." He vanished before Harry could leap at him.
"I told you!" He said, half wild, aiming an accusatory glare in Hermione's direction; she had once more gone white. "I told you! We have to go! We have to help him! Find a portkey or…or summon the Knight Bus or something! And we have to go now!"
"Flying would be faster." Luna said, her tone and affect both remaining dreamy despite the gravity of the situation. "We could use the Thestrals. They're more gentle than they're given credit for and I know where they like to congregate."
"Even if you didn't, Luna, we could probably just attract them with Harry." Neville said, flashing a tight smile. "They certainly seemed to be fond enough of him during that Care of Magical Creatures class."
"What are you all waiting for!" Nearly bowling both Ron and Ginny over in the process, Harry lunged for the door. "Come on! The flight into London will take hours and we don't have that kind of time!"
When Luna had said she knew where the Thestrals liked to gather she hadn't lied; they found the heard in a small clearing not far into the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. With only a brief bit of trouble largely revolving around the fact that the vast majority of the group couldn't actually see the Thestrals they managed to get off the ground and away from the school.
Harry flew at the head of the group, hands knotted in his mount's mane and enjoying the cool wind in his face; watching countryside transition to hinterland transition to big city beneath them.
As they swooped low, entering the canopy of lights and skyscrapers that was London, his heart began to beat so fast that the sound of his own blood in his ears overpowered the shriek of the wind. He could see it all playing out before him. Could envision every moment of his triumph down to the slick slide of warm glass against his skin as he lifted the orb down from the shelf to the looks on the faces of his 'friends' as he revealed the truth. The eagerness pumping through his veins was so strong he almost collapsed when he dismounted outside the beaten telephone box that concealed the Ministry's guest entrance.
A triumph. One that no one else, even Nagini, could accomplish. He would be the one to pull it off. The one to give the coveted object, the prophecy, to the Dark Lord. The one to be praised. To be rewarded for what he'd done. For proving himself invaluable; the most loyal and affective of all of them!
"What are you staring at?"
Harry jumped at the sound of Ginny's voice from just beside and shook himself out. "Nothing." He said. If every Death Eater got so wrapped up in the rewards they'd receive for success that they became too distracted to actually achieve it he could actually understand why they were often so ineffective. He couldn't allow himself to fall into the same trap. "Come on. Over here!"
After cramming into the booth, dialing in the entry code and receiving badges labeled with their names and the purpose of 'Rescue Mission' they were at last lowered down into the Ministry's atrium. Though dimmer than it had been the last time he'd been there with the absence of the fires in the line of hearths the cavernous room looked the same. The only sound was the gentle trickling of water from the golden fountain.
"We need to get to the lifts." Harry informed them as they started across the room at a sprint. "The Department of Mysteries is on floor nine; the lowest floor the lift will reach."
He ripped open the grated door as soon as they reached the lifts, stabbing the button repeatedly as soon as everyone was inside. His heart was back to racing and it wasn't just his own excitement he was dealing with; Nihil had made another appearance, this time in his animal form, and had coiled around his legs.
"I hope you're planning to use me, Harry." He said as the lift clattered around them. "I've too much energy and haven't had a worthwhile target yet. And the fight you've got brewing…even if our real concern is the prophecy it would be a crying shame to let the Death Eaters have all the fun."
The movement of the nearest torches on the wall, flickering in the air from the lift when the doors at last opened, made his pupils constrict. His urge to pounce surged but he held it back; Nihil wasn't the only one who thought leaving everything to the Death Eaters would be a waste of a fun time but there were more important things which needed to be done first. He couldn't lose his grip yet.
So close.
"Let's go!" Harry struck out down the hallway, Nihil unseen beside him, and the others followed. The first room which they encountered was what he expected: the circular chamber with the whirling wall. "Last person through shut the door."
Neville did as he was told and the moment the door clicked back into the place the walls began to spin. Harry picked out the proper door once it stopped again and stepped into the strange room on the other side. Clocks were everywhere, filling the room with a constant Tick! Tick! Tick! which would certainly drive him mad if he was forced to remain there too long. A jar containing a billowing wind, sending a small egg upwards through the lifecycle of a hummingbird, stood on a small table not far away; he practically had to drag Ginny away from it. Thankfully no one cared too much about the cabinet of time turners which they passed to arrive at the opposite door and pass through it.
Unable to contain himself another moment longer Harry bolted the instant he was over the threshold, ignoring the shouts of alarm and calls to come back which rang out behind him. Running passed row after row of gleaming orbs; prophecies contained within glass; numbers steadily ascending until they reached 97. Here he stopped and then, at a much slower pace, began to make his way down the aisle. Searching eyes running over placards, reading each of them and finally arriving at the one that he was looking for.
S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D
Dark Lord
And (?) Harry Potter
Reaching up with shaking hands he removed the little orb and lifted it down. Cradling it as if the glass could shatter at any moment, the silver light illuminating his face with an eerie glow.
"Bloody hell, mate! Don't run off like that!" Ron said as he rounded the corner ahead of the others, wand drawn and at his side. "Where is he?"
"He?"
"Sirius! This is row 97; you said he'd be here."
The raven purred. "I'm afraid I've a bit of a confession to make."
"Do it later, Harry!" Hermione said. "We need to find Sirius and get out of here; it isn't safe!"
"Not safe?" he repeated before dissolving into manic laughter, the wild sound echoing off the shelves and vaulted ceiling until it seemed as if they were in the center of a heckling crowd. "Of course it isn't safe, but neither is being oh so very trusting; even if you've known someone for years that doesn't mean they won't suddenly turn on you. Won't suddenly lie to you. And I did lie to you, you see, because I wanted this. The Prophecy. For all the smoke and mirrors the class makes the subject of Divination seem, some of them are very real." Holding the glass orb higher he turned the face them, the eldritch glow backlighting his slitted pupils. "I am the Black Lion."
Stunned silence fell in the wake of his announcement and for a long moment his only answer were staring eyes and shocked faces. Then, Neville spoke. Looking as if he couldn't believe it. As if he refused to. Yet every aspect of his features were still etched with betrayal. "Why, Harry?" His voice was small and heavy. "You were supposed to be a hero."
"Supposed to be." His voice was low and growling, the words drawn out into a susurrus which verged dangerously on Parseltongue. "You've answered your own question. My life has always been nothing but 'supposed to be'! I was 'supposed' to die that night in Godric's Hollow all because I was 'supposed' to be able to defeat the Dark Lord. I was 'supposed' to be raised by 'loving' Muggles but according to them I was 'supposed' to be normal and since I could only ever be a freak I was 'supposed' to stay well out of sight from their otherwise perfect lives! I was 'supposed' to be in Slytherin but ended up in Gryffindor because I objected and then I was 'supposed' to behave. I was 'supposed' to sit pretty and then I was 'supposed' to save them and then I was 'supposed' to let them use my like an accessory, a doll, to make themselves look better! I was 'supposed' to shut up and when I couldn't do that I was 'supposed' to be their scapegoat and then, when the time came where they needed me again I was 'supposed' to forget all of that and go running headlong into danger for their benefit! Supposed to. Supposed to! Supposed to! And all along no one gave a bloody toss about what I might want!"
Harry had curled down into an aggressive stance, his teeth bared and a growl in his throat, but he straightened abruptly; calming so quickly it were as if he hadn't just been shouting loudly enough to shatter his voice against the walls.
"Until him. My Lord didn't force me into anything. He opened the door for me; stepping through it was my choice. My choice and no one else's!"
"Harry-." Whatever Hermione might have tried to say caught in her throat and was lost to tears; she covered her face with her hands.
"Why didn't you tell someone Harry? If you'd said something we could have helped you!" Ron said, half-desperate and half-accusatory. "Dumbledore-."
"Death lies with Dumbledore!" He snarled, taking a step forward and watching the others take a step back on reflex. "Death, for me, always lay with Dumbledore. He was never safety; he only pretended to be. Voldemort was, is, now that he knows! Now that he knows what I am! I matter to him. I matter to him!"
"You mattered to us!" Ginny threw the words at him like a spear, her brown eyes over bright with tears. "Was that not enough for you? Was being a brother and a friend not enough for you? Are you really that selfish-?"
Over the snarl which ripped from Harry's chest a calm voice drawled "were I you, girl, I wouldn't provoke him." A dozen Death Eaters, illuminated wands raised and eyes gleaming from within the slits of their masks had come up behind the group while they'd been distracted, lead unmistakably by Lucius, and blocked all routes of escape; trapping the four between them and the snarling, sharp toothed raven. "Drop your wands."
