Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling. Also this story is inspired by 'A Shattered Prophecy' by Project Dark Overlord.
Chapter Thirty Seven
When Harry came down to breakfast the next morning, there was something decidedly different about him. He helped himself to a big breakfast, more food was on his plate than Ron's, which was not an easy feat. He smiled when Lavender reached across him to get the jam and touched his hand, 'accidentally on purpose'. He even chuckled when Damien retold how his prank turned the lake water pink and the Giant Squid purple.
"I'm tellin' you, Filch was not impressed!" Damien beamed, proud of himself.
"You got detention?" Ron asked, through a mouthful of pancakes.
"Yeah, but it's totally worth it." Damien replied.
Hermione and Ginny were both watching Harry and his unusual happy mood had both curious. But the girls didn't acknowledge anything. Soon, Damien was picking up his bag, popping a few grapes into his mouth at the same time.
"Gotta run, McGonagall's setting the detention." he set off, running to the doors.
"Only Damy will run to get detention." Ron mused, shaking his head, with a half smile.
"It's the mark of a Marauder." Ginny explained, "the more detentions he gets, the better a trouble-maker he is."
"He's got Fred and George's record to beat." Ron chuckled and leaned to the side to pick up his bag.
He got to his feet. Hermione held back, slowly sipping at her pumpkin juice.
"You go, Ron, I'm going to the library to see if Madame Pince managed to order in a copy of Gellart Bruckhorn's Guide to Physical Transformations and..."
"Yeah, okay, cool." Ron got out quickly, before he got roped into coming along with her. She would get a copy for him to read too.
Ginny got up next, chatting to a few girls in her year, discussing the essay they were to hand in for DADA. So it was only Hermione and Harry left from their group. Hermione took in a breath and leaned over slightly, catching Harry's eye.
"Did you hand in the form?" she asked quietly.
Harry smiled at her, which made Hermione momentarily forget how to breathe. He never smiled, certainly not at her. She had to admit, he had a gorgeous smile.
"No," he replied, "I realised I don't need it."
Hermione's face broke into a smile, relief in her eyes.
"So you've changed your mind?" she asked, internally grateful. She hated the fact that she was indirectly helping him to stay away from his family, especially on Christmas. "You're not staying over the holidays? You're going home?"
Harry grinned again.
"Yeah," he said, green eyes gleamed brightly, "I'm going home."
xxx
"Bloody Filch! Sadistic prat!" Damien mumbled all the obscene words he knew, directing them to Hogwarts caretaker. "I'm gonna get him, and his little cat too!" he muttered.
He began climbing out of the dungeons, where Filch had made him scrub the dirty stone floors, using no magic of course. It was beyond disgusting and now his hands and knees were aching, not to mention stinking. All Damien wanted to do, was wash up and get into his bed.
He turned the corner when he saw something, just a flicker in the corner of his eye. He snapped his head up and stood still, staring ahead, at the door that had just clicked closed seconds ago. He moved forward, cautiously. The dungeons, at night, were Slytherin territory. It wasn't a good idea for a Gryffindor to be wandering about, detention or not. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand.
It was almost ten at night, no one should be around here, except for him of course. He realised the room in question was the Potions lab and relaxed a little. It was most probably his mum, brewing a batch, in the peace and quiet of the night. Probably.
But for a reason Damien didn't understand, he felt panicky. He shivered as goosebumps erupted all over him. He stepped forward, his hand inching into his pocket for his trusted map. He would check who was in the lab, without going in. Just to make sure no slimy Slytherin was up to mischief.
He tapped it and quietly uttered the magic words to bring it to life. He scanned the map quickly, turning the parchment over until he reached the dungeons. He saw his own name, Damien Jack Potter, standing in the corridor. He followed up to the Potions lab and found the name of the person that had sneaked in. He stared at it for a moment, standing so still he could have been a statue. Then, with a furious glower, he stuffed the map and his wand back into his pocket and darted towards the lab, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
His narrowed gaze danced from corner to corner of the dark lab, but he couldn't see anyone. Of course, the map never lies, so Damien knew the room had a visitor.
"I know you're here, Harry," he called, "show yourself."
A shimmer before Harry suddenly appeared, as if out of nowhere, standing next to the glass cabinet at the far side of the lab. Damien's eyes widened with shock before narrowing to slits.
"Is that...? What're you doing with my cloak!"
Harry only smirked and held up the garment, looking at it as if he just noticed it.
"This?" he asked nonchalantly, "this yours?"
Damien marched to him and snatched it back from him.
"You stole my cloak!"
"No," Harry continued to smirk, "I borrowed it."
"Please, don't even try that with me. I've used that line so many times I own it!" Damien grumbled.
Harry sniggered and moved away, walking around Damien.
"I was going to give it back, honest." he teased.
Damien eyed him suspiciously.
"What were you doing here?"
"I needed something."
"At this time in the night?" Damien raised an eyebrow.
"I couldn't sleep." Harry held up a small glass phial. "Dreamless Sleeping Potion."
"You couldn't have gone to the Hospital wing, like a normal person?"
Harry pocketed the phial.
"No." he replied simply.
Damien ran a hand down the invisibility cloak, reassuring himself that it was still perfectly in one piece, that Harry hadn't destroyed it.
"Next time, ask." he grouched.
"Don't worry, Damy. There won't be a next time."
Damien stilled. This was the first time Harry had called him by his nickname. It was once he got over that shock, that he realised what Harry had said.
"What do you mean?"
Harry smiled.
"Nothing, just that I'm going to make my own potions next time."
Damien shook his head at him. He held out the cloak.
"Here, put it on and get back to the common room."
Harry took the offered cloak and slipped it on, disappearing from sight. Damien saw the door creak open and light footsteps headed out.
Damien glanced back at the glass cabinet, curious despite himself. He found himself wondering if the Dreamless Sleeping Potion was indeed what Harry came looking for so late in the night. It was only afterwards, when he was tucked up in his bed, the invisibility cloak safely locked in his trunk, that Damien realised something peculiar and deeply unsettling.
Harry went to the potions lab for Dreamless Sleeping Potion. That phial he had held up was darkish brown. Dreamless Sleeping Potion was purple.
xxx
As soon as it was morning, Damien wanted to talk to Harry about the Potion. He waited for him in the common room, but he didn't show.
"You seen, Harry?" Damien asked Ron, as he trudged down the steps with Seamus, Neville and Dean in tow.
"Yeah, he's still in his bed." Ron replied.
"In his bed? Doesn't he want breakfast?" Damien asked.
"No idea." Ron shrugged.
"Coming, Damy?" Ginny asked as they all headed for the door, leaving Damien still standing.
"I need to talk to Harry." Damien replied.
"Talk to him at the table," Ron said, "I'm starvin', come on."
Damien cast a last look at the stairs, leading to the boys' dormitory, before giving in with a sigh.
"Yeah, okay."
The portrait door opened and Sirius climbed inside. He grinned at the sight of Damien and his friends.
"Hey, pup," he greeted, shaking his long hair out of his eyes. "Ron, Ginny, Miss Hermione." he nodded at her in exaggerated politeness, making her chuckle.
"Hi, Sirius." they chorused.
"What are you doing here?" Damien asked.
"I'm here visiting." Sirius frowned, "didn't...didn't I meet you yesterday?"
Damien rolled his eyes.
"I meant here, in the common room."
"Oh, right," he grinned, "I came to see Harry, actually. Figured I'd walk with him to the Great Hall for breakfast."
"Good luck," Ron mumbled, "he's still sleeping."
Sirius frowned.
"Sleeping? Really? That's odd. I heard he's the first one up?"
"Usually," Ron replied, "but he's still snoring today."
Sirius looked up at the staircase, eyes softened in concern.
"I'll just go and check on him."
"I'll come with you." Damien turned but Sirius suddenly stopped him.
"It's alright, pup. I got this." he winked at him before giving him one of his usual wide grins and he bounded up the stairs.
"Shall we go?" Ginny asked.
"You guys head, I'll wait for Harry and uncle Siri." Damien replied.
The three left, leaving Damien alone in the deserted common room. Damien waited a few minutes, which stretched to five, which turned to ten and then fifteen. Damien frowned at the stairs. What was taking them so long? He turned to walk upstairs and find out himself.
As Damien opened the door to Harry's dorm, a peculiar sight greeted him. Harry was still in bed, looking a bit pale but fast asleep. But that wasn't the strange thing. The strange thing was Sirius, standing next to the bed, holding Harry's black and silver ring in his hand. For some reason, the sight startled Damien.
"Uncle Siri?" Damien whispered.
Sirius snapped his head up and looked at Damien. For a moment, he looked completely taken aback, as if he were caught in the middle of an offence. When he saw that it was Damien at the door, he visibly relaxed.
"Hey pup, what're you doing here?"
Damien walked closer to him and the sleeping Harry.
"I was waiting for you both downstairs." he said, his eyes fixed on his brother, "what's wrong with Harry? Why isn't he up?"
"He has a fever." Sirius replied, looking down as Harry too. "When I came in, he was in the bathroom, being sick. I tried to help him, but you know what he's like." he shrugged and smiled at Damien, "he wouldn't go to the hospital wing and took out a Dreamless Sleeping Potion and chugged the whole thing down." he sighed heavily as he stared at the sleeping boy, "he'll be asleep for a while."
Damien nodded his head and then looked at the black ring, still in Sirius' hand.
"What are you doing with that?" he asked.
"Just looking at it." Sirius replied as he twirled the ring in his fingers.
For some reason, Damien got really annoyed.
"Stop playing around with his things," he said, "it belongs to Harry and I don't think he'd like you messing around with his stuff. Just leave it alone."
"Alright, calm down. I was only lookin'." Sirius placed the ring on Harry's bedside table and gave Damien a funny look. "You alright, pup?"
"Yeah, sorry, It's just…Harry's quite funny about his things." Damien explained. "He's always wearing that ring. I don't think he'd take too kindly on anyone losing it."
"I wouldn't lose it." Sirius defended.
"You would definitely lose it." Damien corrected.
Sirius gave him a warm smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"Alright, smart ass, time to go get some grub."
He pulled the drapes around Harry's bed, before the two of them went downstairs. They climbed out of the portrait door to see James waiting impatiently.
"Finally! How long does it take, Padfoot?" he berated. His hazel eyes widened when he saw Damien instead of Harry. "Where's Harry?"
"Asleep," Sirius replied. "He has a fever. I think he's spending the day in bed."
"What? I'll go check on him." James hurried forward.
Sirius suddenly had a grip of his arm.
"No use, he's taken the sleeping potion. He's not going to wake up for a good few hours."
James looked slightly surprised at Sirius. He pulled his arm out of his grip but an awkward silence fell between them.
"So, breakfast?" Sirius grinned at both James and Damien.
Damien walked along with Sirius and James, all the way to the Great Hall. The entire way, he felt a strange flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach. But he had no idea why.
xxx
"So, since Harry's out of commission today, you wanna do something?" Sirius asked, after breakfast.
James shook his head.
"Not really," he replied, "I should try and talk Harry into going to the hospital wing and let Poppy check him out. It was only two days ago that he fell off his broomstick."
"Let him be," Sirius waved a hand. "he's not going to listen to you, being the stubborn little bastard that he is."
James jerked his head up, eyes narrowing to slits.
"What'd you say?"
Sirius shrugged at the glower.
"Come on, Prongs, admit it. He's as stubborn as they come."
James shook his head.
"Not that part, that bit I agree with," he said dejectedly, "it's the name you just called my son."
Sirius looked nonchalantly at him.
"What? You got a better name to give him?"
James looked thunderstruck.
"What's gotten into you?" he asked with surprise.
"Hey, I was just teasing," Sirius sat up suddenly, "I didn't mean anything by it."
James relaxed a little, but his brow was still lined with irritation.
"Oh, come on, Prongs," Sirius met angry hazel with calm blue. "Tell you what, I'll make it up to you. There a great little pub, just on the outskirts of Hogsmeade-"
"No, I'm not in the mood, Sirius." James shook his head.
"It'll be my treat." Sirius said.
James snorted.
"Since when?"
Sirius grinned.
"Come on, just one drink?"
James let out a slow breath, his annoyance at his friend ebbed away.
"Alright, but," he held up a finger, "you call my son that word again, I'll tear you a new one, Sirius Black."
Sirius looked momentarily stunned. Something flickered in his eyes but he grinned and nodded.
"Understood, James Potter."
xxx
It was almost two in the afternoon, by the time Sirius and James left Hogwarts for their afternoon drink. Since James didn't know where they were going, he let Sirius lead the way. As they walked past Hogsmeade, James talked about Harry, while Sirius patiently listened. So lost was James in voicing his worries about his eldest son, he never noticed how far out they had come from the small wizarding village of Hogsmeade. By the time he realised, they were already climbing up the steep hills, in a secluded area, just on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. It seemed there was nothing more than cliffs and hills, no sign of life anywhere.
"Sirius, you sure this is the right way?" James asked.
"I'm sure." Sirius replied, climbing higher up the hill. "We're taking a short-cut, it's just a bit further on."
"There doesn't seem to be anything other than rocks and grass here." James sighed, squinting in the afternoon sun. "You sure you know where you're going?" James asked. This wasn't the first time Sirius had led him somewhere and ended up getting utterly lost.
"Trust me, Prongs. I know where I'm going." Sirius replied, as he led the way.
James continued to climb after Sirius for another twenty minutes, all the while growing more anxious. They seemed to be going further towards the cliffs, where there was no sign of any sort of a population, wizard or muggle.
James came at the top of the hill and stopped.
"Alright, I think it's safe to say, we're lost." he said, irritated. "There's no pathway going down from here and we seem to be standing on a cliff with at least a 300 ft drop. So I think you should admit you're lost."
Sirius stood with his back to James, just staring out ahead, completely quiet.
"Sirius? You listening to me?" James asked.
"Just look at this, Prongs," Sirius said softly, "so quiet, so secluded. It's beautiful, don't you agree?" he turned to look at James, blue eyes glinting in the sunlight, "anything can happen here and the people around, won't even know."
It was in that moment, that James knew with sickening certainty, this wasn't Sirius.
xxx
Damien couldn't get rid of this uneasy feeling settled deep in his bones. He felt like he was walking around with his stomach tied in knots. As soon as it was time for lunch, Damien skipped the meal and instead made his way up to Harry's room. He needed to check on him.
He was disappointed to see Harry was still sleeping. He had hoped Harry would be awake by now. Damien reached out and felt Harry's forehead. He was a little warm, but not feverish. Harry still looked awfully pale though and he was sweating a little. Damien pulled the covers down, trying to cool Harry off. He froze as the covers revealed his left hand. A strange looking device was connected to Harry's hand. A small tube, filled with a strange liquid, lead to a sharp needle that was inserted into the back of Harry's hand. It looked awfully painful.
Damien knew, just by looking at it, that the strange thing wasn't anything good. He doubted Harry could have attached the dreadful looking thing to himself and he knew for a fact, no one had been to see Harry. He wondered if maybe Madame Pomfrey came to the dorm and attached this, to help Harry get better? But somehow, he knew it was unlikely. The school nurse would force him to the hospital wing, not treat him in his dorm room.
Damien reached out with uncertain fingers and slowly tugged the sharp needle out, grimacing as small drops of blood pooled at the minute exit wound. He looked over at Harry, but he was still soundly asleep. Damien put down the tube and gently shook Harry's shoulder.
"Harry? Harry, wake up."
No reaction.
Damien shook harder.
"Harry? Harry!"
Still, Harry didn't open his eyes.
Damien felt panic explode in the pit of his stomach. Something was most definitely wrong.
"Harry! Harry! Harry, wake up, please!"
Not knowing what else to do, Damien pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry's head.
"Enervate!"
At once Harry's emerald eyes snapped open. They darted to Damien.
"Damy!" he gasped, painfully.
Damien felt his heart stop. Harry didn't sound like Harry. In fact he sounded very much like-
"Uncle Siri?"
Sirius, currently looking just like Harry, pulled himself to sit up, wincing in pain, a hand reached up to run at the back of his head.
"Damy...Damy...Harry's...Harry's..."
"Polyjuice potion," Damien realised, horrified.
That's what was in the phial Harry had swiped from the Potions lab. He looked back at the tube that had been drip feeding a potion into Sirius. He picked it up, staring at the golden liquid, half filled in the tube. He had taken Sirius' form and forced Sirius to take on his own.
"How did this happen?" Damien asked, shocked.
"After I left you in the common room, I came up here to see Harry's bed empty." Sirius explained, "I went into the bathroom, to check if he was okay and he attacked me." Sirius winced and rubbed the back of his head again. "I thought he had cracked my head open. He did something, a spell and it...it sort of paralysed me. I couldn't move, couldn't speak."
"Petrificus totalus?" Damien asked, horrified.
"No, it wasn't that. He did it wandlessly and it was non verbal." Sirius shuddered. "It was awful. I could still hear him, see what he was doing, until he brushed my eyes closed that is." he gestured to the tube with the needle. "He put that thing in me and it changed me into him. I couldn't do anything to stop him. Then he got me dressed and put me in his bed."
Damien felt sick. Harry did all that? He couldn't bring himself to fully believe it.
"So when I came in here, you were the one in bed and Harry was polyjuiced to look like you?" Damien asked, "he was the one holding the ring?"
Sirius nodded.
"I heard you both, but had no idea what was going on."
Damien shivered with nerves. This was bad. This was so, very, very bad. Harry must have already escaped by now. He looked up to see Sirius, but he still looked like Harry. It was an unnerving sight.
"Isn't there something you can do, you know, to change back sooner than the potion wearing off?" Damien asked.
"Yeah, Finite Incantateum should do the trick." Sirius answered and instinctively went to take out his wand, only to remember he was wearing Harry's clothes and that his wand was missing.
"He took my wand." he moaned.
"Can you get up, you feel okay?" Damien asked, trying so very hard not to panic.
"Yeah, of course."
Sirius painfully brought his legs to swing off the edge of the bed and sat up. But his pallor and fleeting expression of pain, told Damien he was hurting. Whatever spell Harry had hit him with, had left him with aches running up and down his body.
Sirius spotted the ring lying on the table. He reached out with a trembling hand and picked it up, studying it. He too had noticed this ring always on Harry's finger. It had a weird look, black and silver, but the sliver looked, almost alive.
"This the ring you both were talking about?" he asked.
Damien pulled out his wand and nodded.
"Yeah," he said. quietly. He pointed his wand at his uncle. "Finite Incantateum."
Sirius' appearance started to change, back to his normal form. Soon enough, Sirius was sitting on the bed, still wearing Harry's pyjamas, which were now straining against his bulkier form. But Damien never noticed that. His attention was elsewhere. Where Sirius had been holding the ring, before the spell, he now held a black pensive, with a mass of silvery substance, swimming inside.
"What...?" Damien stuttered, "What is that?"
"Pensive," Sirius whispered, "it must be Harry's memories."
Damien understood Harry's possessiveness over the ring now.
Sirius struggled to his feet, swaying a little. He pushed the black stone bowl into Damien's hands.
"Take this to Dumbledore and tell him what's happened."
"What are you going to do?" Damien asked.
"I have to find James." Sirius breathed.
xxx
James' hand closed around his wand, but he didn't bring it out, not yet. His hazel eyes were fixed on the grinning man before him. The one pretending to be his best friend.
"Who are you?" James growled.
The fake Sirius laughed.
"Oh come on, you must have figured it out by now. No? maybe I should help."
The fake Sirius held his wand up to his own face and muttered, "Finite Incantateum."
At once Sirius' face began changing shape. His nose shrunk, his eyes changed shape and the colour began shifting from blue to green. James stood, transfixed in horror, as he watched Sirius' long hair shrink to a mop of untidy black locks.
"Harry?" James choked out.
"Surprised?" Harry asked, still sounding like Sirius.
With a smirk, Harry pointed his wand at his own throat and whispered, Finite Incantateum, again.
"There, much better." Harry said in his own voice. "Now, just one more thing to take care of, then we can start."
A twist of his wand, a silent spell and James felt the wand in his closed fist burn suddenly. His grip loosened and the wand cut through the air and landed in Harry's other hand. James was staring at him, completely dumbfounded as Harry threw back his hand and sent James' wand flying through the air until it disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
"What...? what are you doing?" James asked, snapping out of his shock.
"Isn't it obvious?" Harry asked, "I'm paying you back," he flexed his fingers, "for everything you've ever given me."
Green eyes darkened and the next thing James knew, he had slammed to the ground, the breath knocked out of him. He never got the chance to get up. Harry's spell caught him, hurled him up and flung him smack into a tree. James fell to the ground, coughing and gasping, tasting blood. His glasses had been knocked off. The next spell hit him and James felt like an incredible weight was pressing him into the ground, digging him literally into the grass. He couldn't breathe. His gasping mouth tasted mud and grass as he tried desperately to lift his head up. But he couldn't. The pressure on his back lifted and James scrambled to turn over, greedily gasping air into his aching lungs.
Harry appeared, standing over him. A flick of his wand and James felt a searing pain tear across his ribs, like fire had streaked over his flesh. His cry left his throat burning and both hands clutched at his sides, coming away bloodied. He was unceremoniously thrown to the other side again, smashing face first into the ground. Groaning, James turned and looked at the blurry image of his son, standing before him.
"Why…why are you doing this, Harry?" James panted, grimacing as agony lanced up his bruised spine and broken ribs.
"That's what I want to know, Potter. Why?" Harry's voice shook slightly and James found all his attention shift to him. A hand buried into his robes and James was hoisted up, so Harry was in his face, green eyes burning in anger. "Go ahead, Potter, tell me! It's just you and me here. No one here for you to put on an act for, no one here to reveal your secret. So go on, tell me, why?"
James could only stare at Harry.
"Before you die, I want you to tell me." Harry hissed, "look me in the eye, you son-of-a-bitch and tell me! What did I do that made you hate me?" The grip tightened but Harry's voice broke, "I was your son! God damn it! Why?" he shook James.
James saw the tears in Harry's eyes then and it felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart.
"Harry?" was all James could manage, before the boy sent him flying through the air again.
James fell the wrong way and his leg snapped under him, sending waves of agony through him. He twisted up, tried his best to shift his weight but it was no use. Harry was already towering over him, wand pointed at his head.
"Twelve years," Harry said, in a controlled voice. "I've spent twelve years, thinking about this moment, when I point a wand between your eyes and take your life." the wand trembled in his hand, "I never planned it to be like this. But I wanted you to meet your end at my hands." he revealed. An expression flitted over him and his eyes shifted to show the hurt once more, "I made excuses for you, told myself you were a sick bastard, only capable of hurting others, that you didn't know any better." his expression changed to show his honest confusion, "but I saw you with Damien and I saw how different you were with him. So I ask you again, Potter. Why? Why me?"
"Harry, please," James gasped, "I don't know what you're talking about. Please-"
Harry's face twisted in a snarl and he pointed his wand at James' uninjured leg. A spell, a flash of light and James felt the bones in his leg snap. James' cry was muffled behind his clenched teeth. His hands shot out to grip at the abused limb, panting through the pain, fighting to stay conscious.
Harry slowly lowered himself to squat next to him.
"You don't remember?" he asked quietly, "how fortunate you are, not to have those memories haunt you." he cocked his head to the side, "but I remember, Potter. I remember every single thing."
James couldn't speak. It was taking every ounce of his will power to keep breathing, to keep himself awake and not give in to the pull of darkness blurring the edges of his vision.
"You brought this onto yourself, Potter." Harry continued, speaking quietly, "I was happy to walk away, to leave you be until I cross your path again. But you did this to yourself!" his eyes darkened suddenly, "all those times you faked concern, every lie you told, every time you pretended, it all led to this!"
"You...you'll never get away with this, Harry." James said, desperation in his voice.
Harry laughed a cold, cruel laugh.
"I'm not the one who kills you, Potter." he said, "everyone saw you leave Hogwarts with Sirius Black. The Aurors posted around Hogsmeade saw you come towards these cliffs with Black. It was Black who brought you here, and mercilessly killed you. It was Black's wand that shot the many different curses at you, rendering you defenceless before finally shooting out the killing curse."
He held up the wand and James saw it was indeed Sirius' wand that Harry was using.
"It'll be the perfect end to your perfect friendship."
"No one will ever believe it, Sirius would never hurt me and everyone knows that." James managed to hiss.
"Envy is a horrible thing, Potter." Harry said coolly. "It can lead to many bizarre crimes. You have family, Black does not. You have children, Black does not. You have a somewhat nice home, Black only has the ruined home that has now been turned into the Headquarters to your pathetic Order. You see Potter? Black has nothing when you have everything. You are even in a higher rank than he is. I think that's enough to make one man insanely jealous enough to kill."
"Lily and Damien!" James struggled, "they...they will never believe...they know Sirius, well enough to know...that he would never...never attack me!"
For a fleeting moment, Harry's eyes softened at the mention of Damien.
"Damien may not believe it, but with time he will have no other choice but to accept it." Harry replied. "Besides, he'll learn to be thankful for having at least one parent left. He's the only reason your wife isn't joining you today."
James felt his blood boil with anger. He glared furiously at him, to which Harry only smiled back before standing up, wand held out.
"So, that's it then?" James asked, his anger giving him strength, "you...you're going to kill me, without even telling me why?"
Harry smirked.
"Protesting innocence, right until the end?" he asked. "very well, have it your way." he pointed his wand in the spot between James' eyes. The mark he had targeted on Death Eaters, so many times before.
"Please-"
"Don't!" Harry hissed, "don't beg for mercy." his voice dropped to a whisper, "after all, you never showed me any."
The wand was shaking in Harry's hand. James waited, each second ticked by in agony, his body aching, darkness edging his vision. But the killing curse didn't come from Harry. The wand was still pointed, the mark targeted, but the words wouldn't come.
James saw the rage in Harry's eyes, but he also saw the way his hand was shaking. Harry was struggling to curse him.
"Harry, please-"
The green eyes narrowed, his wand changed target and a jet of purple light hit James square in the chest, with enough force to throw him back.
Over the edge of the cliff.
Harry stood still, as James Potter tumbled over the cliff, down a 300ft drop, to the jaggy rocks below. Harry closed his eyes, spilling tears that had been burning in his eyes for as long as he could remember. He let out a shaky breath, his heart racing.
He had done it.
He had finally killed James Potter.
xxx
Harry entered Hogwarts under the invisibility cloak. He had to release Sirius Black from the polyjuice potion he had set up. A part of Harry wanted to leave and just go home. That way, his father's Death Eaters wouldn't have to come tonight. But Harry forced himself back to the castle. He needed to go back. He needed to frame Sirius Black for the murder of James Potter. He couldn't leave until he completed the final step in his plot for revenge.
He slipped past the gates and headed for the stairs, wanting to get to the Gryffindor common room. It was almost time for dinner, so the majority of the students were making their way to the Great Hall. Harry slipped past them all and reached the seventh floor, but he had to wait until someone left so he could pass through the portrait door.
He didn't have to wait long. The door swung open and Harry saw the last of the Gryffindors file out. He quickly darted into the room, before the portrait slid shut. Only when he was in the common room, did Harry take off the cloak. He folded the invisibility cloak neatly and slipped up the stairs. But it wasn't his dorm he went to. He stopped before another's; Damien's.
He slipped into the empty room. He left the cloak on top of Damien's bed, partially hidden under the duvet. It was his after all. And Harry had only borrowed it, one last time.
xxx
Harry slipped into his dorm room. The drapes were still pulled around his bed, hiding the sight of the stunned Sirius Black. He walked over and pulled the curtains aside, to find an empty bed.
"Harry?"
Harry turned around sharply, to meet the calm blue eyes of the Headmaster. Harry didn't see the wand in his hand. He didn't hear the curse as it was muttered. He didn't even feel the tell-tale signs that a spell was coming his way. Dumbledore attacked and Harry was hit, all in the blink of an eye.
xxx
When Harry came back to the conscious world, he was no longer in his dorm room. He was in a different room, one he hadn't seen before. Harry's head thumped in time with his heartbeat. He figured he must have hit it when he fell, when Dumbledore attacked him. Instinctively, he tried to reach for his aching head but found he couldn't move his arms.
His grogginess evaporated and he was horrified to find himself in a chair, with bonds across his arms, waist and legs. He was immobilised, tied so tightly, he could barely breathe.
Harry panicked. He tried his best to wrench himself free, but it was useless. The door opened and Harry snapped his head up at once. What he saw, he wouldn't dare believe.
James Potter walked in, clothes still stained with dirt and blood, but looking very much alive. Behind him were Lily and Sirius. Harry stared at all three, but his gaze snapped back to James and he couldn't look away.
"You?" he breathed, "how...how can you-?"
"Still be alive?" James finished for him. "Good question." he turned to look at Sirius, who was standing slightly to his left, glowering at Harry. "Sirius arrived just in time. When you blasted me off that cliff, Sirius was standing on the other side. Using Damien's wand, he saved me."
Harry's darkened gaze moved to Sirius.
James walked closer to Harry, pulling out a chair from Lily's desk as he did so. He came to stop before Harry and sat down across from him, hazel eyes burning with fury.
"I think you owe me an explanation." James said quietly.
Harry held his stare, too stubborn and angry to look away.
"Why did you attack me?" James asked, "all those accusations, what were you talking about? When have I ever hurt you?" his voice broke under the emotional strain, "tell me, Harry! When have I ever hurt you? Answer me!"
Harry looked even more pissed off. He shook his head in disgust and looked away from him. A grip of his chin and James had pulled his face back up again, meeting the steely eyes with his own furious ones.
"I'm asking you something," he hissed, "you just tried to kill me! You owe me a reason why."
Harry pulled himself free from James' grip.
"You know why," he hissed back, "I'm not giving you the satisfaction of repeating it."
To James' shock, Harry's eyes glistened again, but not a single drop fell. He looked away, the sight of Harry's tears were wreaking havoc on his heart and mind.
"You're going to tell me, everything that monster told you about us!" James said, forcing himself to meet Harry's eyes again, "you are going to tell me what the hell is going on!"
Harry didn't speak.
"Fine!" James hissed, getting up from his seat in a fury, "if you don't tell me, I'll ask Dumbledore to cast Legimens and see for ourselves!"
Harry snapped his head up to look at him, eyes widening with horror.
"James?" Lily gasped from behind him, but James ignored her.
"Or maybe, I'll just call the Ministry and have them come take you to Azkaban, for attempted murder!" he threatened.
Harry's mouth thinned to a line and he glared back at him.
"Go ahead," he hissed, "do your worst."
James held his gaze, for only a moment before he turned around and thundered out of the room, Lily and Sirius followed, locking the door behind them.
No one had realised that Damien was in the room, hiding under his invisibility cloak.
xxx
James paced the floor in Dumbledore's office. Lily and Sirius were sitting with their heads in their hands, each wondering how they could have misunderstood Harry, so badly? Why couldn't they have seen how much he hated James? Enough to try and kill him.
James stopped pacing the floor and collapsed in a chair next to Lily. He put his head into his hands and began desperately making a plan to make Harry talk. He had to know what made Harry attack him like that. He had to know what lies were fed to his son, to make him hate so fiercely. He had to make sense of everything Harry had said on the cliff.
"Are...are you really going to call the Ministry?" Lily asked, hesitantly.
James looked up from his own hands.
"Of course not," he dismissed, "I was only trying to scare him."
"Well, it's not working, mate." Sirius told him.
James turned to glare at him.
"Yeah, thanks." he growled.
"How could you threaten Harry with Legimens?" Lily asked, looking disgusted with James.
"I panicked," James admitted, rubbing a hand down his face, mindful of his recently fixed glasses. "I was just trying to scare him into talking." he got up and started pacing again. "all that stuff he said, it doesn't make sense! He said he remembers? He said he remembers every single thing. What the fuck is he talking about!"
"I think, I may have the answer."
The three turned to see Dumbledore at the door, holding something in his hands. It was the black penesive. Harry's penesive.
Dumbledore walked across the room and carefully put the bowl onto the table. Then he fell into his chair, looking defeated and worn.
"Dumbledore? Are you okay?" Lily asked, at once.
When the headmaster looked up at her, his face seemed more lined and aged. As if in the space of only a few hours, the man had grown old suddenly.
"Look into his penesive," he said, gesturing to the black bowl. "It has the answers you're looking for."
James looked from the bowl to Dumbledore's pale face.
"You've already looked, haven't you?" he asked.
Dumbledore looked at James, no twinkle present in his blue eyes.
"Yes I have. I'm sorry, but I needed to prove my suspicions." he shook his head, wearily. "Harry has been storing memories in this, memories which he doesn't want anyone to see. I had to know why."
Dumbledore had a haunted look on his face, as if the memories stored by Harry had aged the Headmaster more than anything else.
"What did you see?" James asked, as a strange fear gripped at his heart, making him breathless.
"I think it's better if you were to see them yourself. Lily you should go with James. Sirius, you as well." Dumbledore gestured to the three.
Dumbledore leaned over and poked the silvery substance with his wand.
"Early childhood memories." he said in a clear voice. "Godric's Hollow."
'Godric's Hollow?' James looked up with a frown.
"Dumbledore, what-?"
"Go, you'll understand." Dumbledore told them regretfully.
James obeyed quietly, Lily and Sirius beside him. They fell, head first into the pensive. Each of them wondering what memories they would see of Harry's childhood in Godric's Hollow, when Harry had only been fifteen months old?
xxx
Damien pulled the cloak off, once he heard the door lock and was certain no one was coming back soon. He walked towards Harry, who didn't seem to be at all surprised at the sight of him.
"Should have known you'd be here." Harry said, without even looking up at Damien.
Damien however was staring at Harry, with a mixture of shock and disgust.
"How could you Harry? How could you try and hurt dad? What did he ever do to you?" he asked.
Harry didn't reply. He continued to stare at the ground.
Damien knelt down in front of Harry, forcing him to look up.
"You tricked me." Damien accused, "this morning, you were pretending to be uncle Siri. You even called me by my pet name, the one only uncle Siri uses. You did all this, all the while knowing you were going to try and kill dad! Why, Harry? Why!"
Harry still didn't answer, but he looked up to meet Damien's eyes.
"You really should watch the details you give out when talking, Damien. You told me everything I needed to know in order to fool everyone into thinking I was Sirius Black."
Damien realised with a horrible jolt, Harry was right. All the times Damien had been following Harry around, he had been making small talk and hadn't realised that he had been giving Harry information.
"Why did you attack dad?" Damien asked, "You hate him that much, that you want to kill him? Dad really loves you. You have no idea how much you mean to him."
Harry laughed. A cold bitter laugh.
"Yeah, Damien. He loves me. I know exactly how much!"
"Damn it, Harry!" Damien clenched a hand into a fist, so angry he felt close to hitting Harry. "Why can't you listen for once? Why can't you believe, even for one damned minute, that your parents, your family actually care about you?"
"Because I'm not delusional." Harry replied.
"Aren't you?" Damien asked, "cause from where I'm standing, that's all you seem to be! You are so sure that dad hates you, you won't stop for a minute to listen to anyone!"
Harry didn't say anything, but looked away from Damien, jaw clenched tight.
"Mum told me," Damien's voice was breaking, his emotions too close to the surface, "mum told me when you were taken, you were just a baby and dad went crazy with grief. It took him months to just speak again. And you! you have the nerve to hurt a man that loves you so much!"
"I wasn't taken!" Harry suddenly erupted. The chair shook with Harry's anger. "I wasn't taken, alright! They're fucking lying! I ran away from home when I was four!"
xxx
The living room was exactly like it had been, approximately fifteen years ago. Everything was the same; the curtains, the furniture, the carpet, everything. The only thing that James and Lily never had, was the three year old Harry, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn to his chest.
James, Lily and Sirius spotted the boy as soon as they fell into the memory. The sight of him made all three gasp and stare. But they knew this wasn't right. Harry was never in Godric's Hollow at the age of three, but that thought was quickly pushed to the back of their minds, at the sight of the little boy.
James had to calm his hammering heart as he took in the appearance of the small boy. He was definitely Harry. He had the messy black hair and his emerald green eyes were hidden behind large black framed glasses.
Lily was watching the 'child' Harry closely, as if trying to take in all the details she could. James and Lily had missed out on Harry's childhood. They never knew what their child looked like when growing up.
Harry was sitting quietly, back pressed against the wall and little hands balled into fists by his side. Almost like he was waiting for something.
Then, a shout sounded across the room.
"Harry! Harry! Get in here right now!" a familiar male voice barked at him.
Harry quickly got up and ran over to the door at the other end of the room, which the three adults recognised as the kitchen. Harry opened the door and walked in to find James and Lily sitting at the kitchen table.
James and Lily looked at their counterparts in Harry's memories and felt a shiver run down their spines. They were identical copies, but the expressions on their faces were hard and cruel. James shuddered as he saw the 'fake' James glaring at Harry.
That's what they were. They were fake. James and Lily had lost Harry at the age of fifteen months. These 'James and Lily' were impostors.
James slowly realised what was going on and the revelation made the bottom of his stomach fall out and his heart twisted in agony.
"No," he muttered, "no, no, no, please God no!"
As if in confirmation of James' horrified realisation, the fake James raised a hand and slapped the child standing before him. Harry hit the floor, hard.
"How many times do I have to tell you, you little shit? I don't want to see your sorry face when we have guests over."
"I'm...I'm sorry-"
"Shut up!" fake James snapped, "get out of my sight!"
"What the hell?" Sirius breathed, watching the sight with horrified eyes.
"This...this can't be happening," Lily shook her head, eyes fixed on her fake counterpart. "This is...it's...no, it's..."
James was silent. His horror had turned him momentarily mute. He watched as his son, his barely three year old child picked himself up from the floor and ran from the kitchen.
The room began to spin, slowing down to show a small room with no windows. There was a small bed in the corner and on top of the bed sat a small child. Harry was trying to put something back together again. James looked closer and saw that the young boy was trying to fix his broken glasses, the muggle way. But his hand was heavily bandaged and his small fingers were having difficulty in moving. James walked closer to the weeping child and knelt next to him, wishing he could wipe away the tears.
A loud thump and Harry jumped in fright before cowering away in fear. James didn't understand what was happening, but Harry did. The child backed away as footsteps echoed loudly before the door opened with a bang and James spun around to see a very menacing looking 'James' standing at the door.
"You've done it again, haven't you?" the fake James said as he towered into the room. The real James saw Harry shake in fear as he spoke.
"N-no d-dad I swear, I-I didn't do anything."
James felt his heart break. Harry had called him, dad. He had actually called him dad in his memories.
The fake James grabbed the small boy by the hair and pulled him from the bed. James cried out as he saw the fake James throw Harry onto the floor and kick him viciously in the ribs. Harry's cry echoed in the attic and he curled into a protective ball, to protect himself from his punishment.
"As if it wasn't enough that you completely destroyed our lives!" the fake James yelled, delivering a brutal kick to the boy's chest, "you're starting to destroy other people's lives as well! How dare you get into a fight with the neighbour's children? They are muggles! You used magic to hurt them, didn't you?" the fake James asked, kicking the three year old with every question.
Harry cried out to each blow and only when the fake James stopped to take a breath, did Harry attempt to speak.
"I- I didn't. They…they hurt me. They p-pushed me and then b-broke my glasses." Harry whimpered.
The fake James only sneered at Harry and kicked him, square in the jaw. Blood gushed from the child's mouth and he scrambled back, trying to put some distance between him and his dad. The fake James only grinned in malicious humour before unbuckling his belt.
"No, no, no, oh please God, no!" James cried out.
"Dad, please, I-I didn't do anything!" Harry pleaded, his eyes darted every which way, but there was nowhere to go, no way to escape.
James, Lily and Sirius all cried out as they saw the fake James grab Harry and hold him down with his foot.
"You've misbehaved Harry. Now it's time for your punishment. You're going to be so sorry!"
He reached for the small arm and twisted it behind Harry's back, ignoring the petrified scream of the three year old.
"Dad! No!"
A brutal pull and a sickening crack resounded across the attic. Harry screamed at the pain in his arm. The fake James took a handful of Harry's hair and wrenched his head back, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
"Nothing like broken bones, to teach you a lesson!"
He let go of Harry's hair and pulled out his belt.
James felt his world crash around him when he saw the fake James bring down the belt on Harry. The small boy cried out, unable to move as the foot was keeping him pinned, while the belt tore into his tender back and legs. He screamed in agony, pleaded desperately but nothing stopped the brutal beating.
Lily was crying out, horrified tears cut down her cheeks and she howled with every cry of her three year old son. Sirius refused to watch. He turned around, his back to the sight but he could still hear the belt slapping across the flesh. He could still hear Harry's screams. His godson's pleading almost drove him mad with grief. But James was completely broken. He fell to the ground, unable to look away as his child, his little boy, was beaten mercilessly by a monster that had his face. James cried as he heard Harry call out and beg his dad to stop. But nothing made the beating stop. Not Harry's cries, not his pleading, not even his bleeding back.
The beating didn't stop, but the memory did. The room spun again and another memory started. James realised that Harry must have lost consciousness, that's why the memory had suddenly stopped.
When the room stopped spinning, James found himself on the kitchen floor. He looked up at Lily and Sirius through his tear filled eyes. James couldn't believe it. Voldemort hadn't lied to Harry. Instead, he filled Harry's mind with fake memories of such abuse, that Harry hated his parents with every fibre of his being.
The three tearful adults watched as the fake Lily came bustling into the kitchen. She was dressed up, as if she were going out, her fancy outdoor cloak wrapped around her shoulders. As she moved out of the way James, Lily and Sirius saw Harry standing by the door. He looked a little bit older than his last memory. He was still wearing worn out clothes and was very skinny. His bright emerald eyes were now dull and empty and were still behind broken glasses.
"Now listen up, the food's in the oven, don't burn it!" the fake Lily snapped at the boy, "you know how your dad can be."
The small child looked over at the oven and nodded. He looked at his mother, walking around, putting her earrings on. As she walked by him the small child grabbed onto her dress.
"Mum, please, can't I come with you? I don't want to be alone with them." Harry whispered in a fearful voice.
The fake Lily slapped Harry's hands away, running her hand over her dress, as if shaking away invisible dirt that Harry had left on it.
"No! You can't come." she scolded, "idiot boy! how many times are you going to ask me? Honestly Harry, you can be so troublesome!"
Harry pulled himself away from his mum and looked away from her. A defeated look on his young face.
The real Lily had to put her hand over her mouth to stifle the cry that left her at the sight.
The doorbell sounded and the three adults saw Harry visibly tense up. As the fake Lily rushed to open the door, Harry moved away from the door, trying to push himself further into the wall, as if hoping to disappear into it.
The fake Potters walked into the kitchen and this time they were with the fake Sirius. The real Sirius looked at his fake counterpart with horrible dread. He was beginning to wonder why Dumbledore had sent him into Harry's memories. Now Sirius was hoping that he didn't find out. He didn't want to know what kind of monster he was in Harry's memories.
The fake Sirius walked into the kitchen and spotted Harry at once.
"Ah, Harry, how are you?" fake Sirius asked, as he ruffled Harry's hair.
Harry tensed up but didn't dare move out of the way, not until Sirius had pulled his hand away. As quickly as he could, Harry darted towards the oven and started checking on the chicken. The fake Lily left and the two friends, James and Sirius sat in the dining room, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen. But their conversation was loud enough to hear from the kitchen.
"I just don't know, Padfoot. I never thought that my son would turn out like this." fake James was heard saying, "he's such a squib! He can't even do the simplest of spells yet."
"I know it sucks." Sirius replied, "I mean, imagine having such a pathetic godson. He's old enough to do plenty by now, he's what three, four?"
"Four," James answered, "I mean, when I was four, I was doing magic all the time. I know that I'm just more gifted than he is but look how weak he is. His eyesight is worse than mine! I swear by the time he is a teen, he'll be completely blind."
"Well, maybe you should stop hitting him in the head all the time." there was the sound of a grin in the fake Sirius' voice. "You know what they say? Too many head injuries can lead to all sorts of deformities."
Both men dissolved into fits of laughter.
Harry brushed away the tears that came at listening to these words and continued laying out the place settings at the table. There were only two table settings, for the two men in the house. The only ones that would be eating tonight.
The real James, Lily and Sirius were looking as if they were going to be sick. They couldn't believe the horrific lies that had been fed into Harry's mind. No wonder he hated all of them.
Just as the small child checked on the chicken, there was commotion near the door and Harry spun around to see the fake Sirius, grinning at him.
"Hey Harry, what you doing?" Sirius asked, as he came towards the frightened child.
The real Sirius growled at his fake counterpart, hands curling into fists, wishing he could tear into him.
"Nothing uncle." Harry replied.
The fake Sirius swooped over Harry and viciously backhanded him. Harry swayed on the spot but managed to keep standing upright.
"I'm not your uncle, you weak piece of crap! You address me as Master Black, understand?"
"Y-yes, Master Black." Harry replied as he wiped the blood away from his lip with the back of his sleeve.
"What you making, Harry?" Sirius asked as he walked over and peered at the oven.
"Roast chicken, Master Black." Harry answered, gingerly touching the reddened spot on his cheek, where the blow had fallen.
The real Potters and Sirius had tears of frustration and anger, as they watched Harry cower before the fake Sirius.
"Hmm, looks a bit underdone to me. I like my meat well done." fake Sirius said, before pointing his wand at the chicken.
He laughed heartlessly, as the chicken turned black and smoke began coming out of the oven door.
Harry ran to the oven. His small hands fumbled with the hot oven door, trying to get it to open so that he could save the meal, but he couldn't do it. The fake Sirius continued to laugh. Harry began to cry and tug at Sirius' hand, hoping to pull the wand away from the food.
"Please don't! Dad will kill me! Please, Master Black, please don't!" Harry begged as he tried to get the wand away from the burning chicken.
At last the fake Sirius pulled his hand away and Harry ran to the oven, to pull out a completely burnt and destroyed chicken.
"Oh James! Prongs! You better come and see what Harry just did!" the fake Sirius shouted. Harry looked up at his Godfather. His green eyes wide with fear.
"Please, no!" Harry pleaded but the man just laughed at him.
"What happened?" fake James asked, before he saw the destroyed chicken in the oven and Harry standing there, face wet with tears.
"Why you little shit! You did this on purpose!" James grabbed the trembling boy and smacked him across the face.
The blow threw Harry to the floor. James began kicking him mercilessly. Harry didn't even cry out. He held in his cries and shut his eyes tightly.
The three horrified adults stood in the middle of this memory and cried.
Suddenly the fake James turned around and saw the oven. He smirked at Harry and wrenched the boy up with a handful of his hair.
"You burn my food, I get to burn you." he hissed.
The real James cried out and ran towards his son. But James couldn't do anything to stop what had already happened. He was forced to watch in mounting horror, as the fake James picked up the screaming child, who was frantically trying to get away.
"No dad! Please don't! Please dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything! Please don't, no, please, no!"
Harry begged and pleaded and cried and thrashed, but the fake James carried the four year old over to the burning hot oven and opened the door.
"No! You son-of-a-bitch! Let him go!" the real James screamed at the top of his lungs, besides himself with terror, watching as his little boy's hand was forced inside the oven.
"Dad! No! Please, please, no!" Harry cried but it all fell on deaf ears.
The fake Sirius was still laughing, and shouting encouragement to his friend.
"Let him have it, Prongs!"
The fake James forced the little hand onto the oven rack and Harry screamed in agony, thrashing wildly in his father's grasp. Only once the kitchen was filled with the horrible smell of burning flesh, did the fake James let Harry go. The small child huddled on the floor, his badly mutilated hand clutched close to his chest and struggled to breathe, as all the screaming had left him breathless.
The fake James and Sirius barked out orders for Harry to clean up the mess and then go to bed, without anything to eat. The two monsters left the weeping child on the kitchen floor, cradling his bleeding, severely burnt hand.
Slowly, after what seemed like hours, the child sat up. He was shaking, trembling with pain, taking raggedy breaths as sobs still racked through him. Obediently, Harry got up and moved to the ruined chicken roast. Awkwardly and to the immense surprise of the three watching adults, Harry began clearing away the mess, with his one good hand. He didn't stop crying the whole time.
He managed to get the burnt chicken into a paper bag and slowly, very awkwardly, he carried it to the back door and stepped outside. He pushed the paper bag into one of the bins before losing the battle with himself. He turned and retched, bringing up whatever little was in his stomach. When it was over, he straightened up and leaned against the garden wall, just standing there, shivering in pain.
The cool air whipped at him, drying the perspiration on his little face. The four year old looked into the darkness looming in front of him. He then looked back inside the house, tears dried on his cheeks. It was clear to see what thoughts were running through Harry's mind.
What was the point of staying in a home that was treating you like this? Was it not better to leave and find another place to live? Any other place would be better than to live here.
As the three adults watched, the four year old Harry slowly walked into the darkness ahead of him and never once looked back at Godric's Hollow.
xxx
The clock struck. It was exactly eight o'clock in the evening and Hogwarts didn't know what hit her. A terrific blast echoed throughout the castle. Majority of the students were in their dormitories. But every single person felt the change in the air and heard the faint yells and cries from outside.
But it wasn't until they heard the manic laughing of one particular female and saw the green symbol soar past their windows and burst in the night's sky, that it made sense to them as to what was happening.
Death Eaters had come to Hogwarts.
xxx