"We are told to remember the idea and not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten. But years later, an idea can still change the world." - V for Vendetta

{~~~~}

"I'm sorry," Hotch said ahead of time, and then lifted Harry up into his arms. Harry grabbed at him, biting his lip to stifle a scream of pain, and Hotch quickly started moving towards the castle.

When they should have hit the wards, they passed through without a problem. The wards recognized Harry, and they didn't seem to even notice that Hotch existed. Hotch looked down at Harry, whose eyelids were starting to flicker closed, then grimaced and pushed on. His son was too weak to cast a Patronus charm, so they were going to have to do this the hard way. He started moving faster, realized he wasn't tiring in the slightest, and then began sprinting as fast as he could go without risking tripping.

Startled students and staff stared at them as they ran past, leaving a trail of mixed blood from both of them behind. Harry slumped entirely in his arms, but he didn't stop to see if he was just unconscious or not, focused instead on discerning the shortest path to the infirmary from where he was at. By the time he'd reached the proper floor, he could hear two professors running behind him to see what on earth was going on, though neither tried to stop him with spells, evidently seeing the limp body he was carrying.

He shouldered open the infirmary doors, forcing them to open with a bang, and Madame Pomfrey was next to them in an instant and directing Hotch to lie Harry down on the nearest bed. When the professors finally caught up - Flitwick and Snape - Pomfrey was already spelling potions directly from the bottle into Harry's stomach for processing and starting to mend the wound by binding tissues together. She barely glanced at Hotch.

Flitwick, on the other hand, alternated who he was gaping at every few seconds, while Snape just stared at Hotch for a long moment before turning to Pomfrey. "What do you need?"

"Blood replacement, tissue growth, strengthening..." Her list continued on, and Snape began rapidly summoning and handing them to her so she could give them to Harry. Hotch stepped to the side, out of the way but still clearly able to see what was going on, and folded his arms across his chest. Harry looked far too pale, skin color slowly becoming that of the sheets he was on while the sheets turned the shade of his blood. His eyelids were flickering as if he wanted to open them but was too tired, and his breathing was gradually slowing down.

Then the potions and other treatments began to take effect, and the process reversed. Under his eyes, Harry's condition steadied and then improved until he was no longer in danger of dying, and finally, as Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived, he was solidly on the way to recovery. If the situation were different, Hotch was sure he might be leaning against something in relief by now.

"What on earth happened?" McGonagall demanded as she saw all the blood. Her eyes moved to examine those standing around the bed, searching for an answer, and she staggered back and let out a horrified cry as she saw Hotch.

He grimaced, there being not much else that he could do, and directed his attention to Harry again. In the couple of seconds that he had looked away, he swore there was a difference.

"I would ask the same," Snape slowly added, and Hotch felt a gaze boring into his head. "This is most...unusual."

Says the potions professor of a magical school.

"Who are you, at least?" McGonagall pressed when he didn't immediately answer, and Hotch sighed.

"I can't talk," he mouthed, and the group glanced at his exposed throat muscles and tendons.

Madame Pomfrey barely looked up. "I may be able to do something about that once I'm done here," she said. "Give me a couple of minutes to work."

When she had finished doing all she could do, she turned to Hotch and started murmuring diagnostic spells. After the third, her eyes widened in shock, and she glanced between Hotch and Harry frantically. "You... You're..." She suddenly cast a couple of spells over Harry and she stopped in her tracks, dumbfounded.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked.

"He's the source of the blood wards," she said slowly. "But he's... Well, he's dead."

"Quite obviously not." McGonagall was examining him suspiciously.

"No, Minerva, his body is quite simply dead. Nothing is functioning."

Hotch blinked in surprise while everyone stared at him. He shrugged slightly, hands up, to show that he was just as clueless as to what was going on as they were. If his body were dead, would that mean that his existence would be forced out of this state soon? It felt like he were securely anchored to the livable world again, but perhaps he was deceiving himself.

"You are his father, aren't you?" Madame Pomfrey asked and he nodded. She hesitated. "Perhaps... No, no, that's not possible..."

"At this juncture, I would expect we will be disproving something we previously thought to be beyond the limits of magic and nature," Dumbledore pointed out calmly.

"I... I think, it may be that..." She asked Hotch, "Did you...appear...like this when he was stabbed?" Hotch nodded again. "Then, it could be that... Well, the blood wards may have pulled him back. They would have been unable to adequately protect Hotchner in his state, and they would have been forced to go to outside help if they were to save him."

"How could that be possible?" McGonagall whispered, eyes fixed on Hotch's cut throat.

"The blood wards were trying to drag Harry into the world of the dead," Dumbledore replied, instead of the head nurse. "It would stand to reason that, at the same time, they were also trying to pull his father into the world of the living. It seems the latter won out."

"Will this last?" Hotch mouthed, but no one saw him. He waved to get their attention and repeated his question.

Madame Pomfrey hesitated, then shrugged slowly. "I don't believe it could," she said carefully, "You aren't properly living. You do not belong in this world, not without a proper...container, for lack of a better word."

"Can you do something to repair the damage to his body?" Snape asked. "I refuse to play charades all day to understand what happened."

"I can't. Whatever he's in, it's just the reflection of a corpse. There's nothing to revitalize. Even if I sewed it all back up, he still wouldn't be able to use any of it. I believe he is able to move only because that is what the blood wards required of him."

"Do you know what has happened?" Dumbledore asked Hotch, who just grimaced and shook his head in annoyance. "Does your son?" Again, he shook his head. "Hm. Perhaps we should wait until he awakens, and then we may be able to piece together what has occurred. Unless your son's attacker is still chasing you?" Hotch shook his head, starting to get very frustrated with his lack of communication skills. It would almost be easier to be a proper ghost, though that wouldn't have allowed him to get Harry here.

"He should be waking within a couple of hours, but he needs rest," Madame Pomfrey insisted, "and if this matter isn't urgent, I must insist on it."

"Be that as it may-" Snape started and Hotch glared at him. After a moment, Snape's face pinched in irritation and he looked away. "A couple of hours. No more."


He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Ginny and Luna since the fight had started, and he knew neither one had crossed over yet since both had been among those, along with him, who had stayed behind to help secure the Ministry on this side. It wasn't anymore nerve-wracking now than it was before, but that didn't mean he wasn't eager to meet back up with them so they could all head through to the other world.

Keeping the Ministry protected was obviously important, and they had done their work diligently without taking shortcuts, but it hurt to stay behind while everyone else went through to follow the Death Eaters who had escaped and to go after Jack. It took far longer than they liked to fully shut the building down to all potential trespassers, but once it was done, it was completely done, and Blaise knew no one was going to be getting in unless they had been told how. Moody had the whole group swear silence about what they had done, though he acknowledged they were going to tell the two heads of the DA.

As the sole communications liaison who had stayed behind, it had been his job to send out the messages to everyone needing direction or clarification. Thankfully, almost everyone knew what they were doing, and he could focus on just putting up wards. Compared to most of the others, with the exception of Ginny and Luna, who were also aware of what he'd done, he wasn't as concerned about what was going on in the other world. For months now, he hadn't been worried about Harry, not like the others had been, because he knew Harry wasn't going to be completely defenseless without his wand.

When it became obvious that they weren't going to be able to return it to him anytime soon, Blaise had quietly slipped over to the other world and gone to America, then summoned Blue, put him into his substantial form, and promptly left him with some simple instructions. When someone was about to potentially harm or kill Harry and/or Jack, Blue was supposed to show up and give Harry a little back up if Harry didn't already have help or was clearly not going to be able to win the fight on his own. After all, Blaise knew that having Blue reveal himself in front of a simple muggle who was threatening Harry wasn't going to go well when Harry couldn't obliviate anyone. More importantly, he also wanted the ass kicking he was going to receive to be worth it when Harry found out what he'd done.

The major downside was that it would probably take a couple of minutes for Blue to get there, since Blaise had given him orders to keep away from all eyes as much as possible, but he figured any help was better than none. The other issue, slightly less important, was that Blaise couldn't summon the velociraptor over here in a fight when he already had it in substantial form elsewhere. At least he could still form the insubstantial ones to relay messages and provide temporary distractions in a fight.

Moody gave him the go-ahead, and he started sending insubstantial Blues out to the small group that had remained behind. With all the work done here, it was about time they went over to help reinforce the Quantico defense in the other world. A couple were staying behind in case something went wrong in this world's Quantico, though it was unlikely, but it would allow them to call everyone back as quickly as they could.

His phone rang, and he was surprised to see it was from Morgan. He hadn't even gotten around to telling them what had happened that day, he thought as he flipped it open. "Yeah?"

There was a long pause. "I told you not to touch those papers anymore," Morgan finally said, but it sounded like he was only trying to be irritated.

Blaise frowned. "The..." He looked around, and although no one was there, he still went for a euphemism. "The ones that weren't in his office anyway?"

"I know you found them."

"How?"

"The blood wards just went back up around Quantico."

Blaise froze and the phone dropped from his hand. He cursed, picked it back up, held it to his ear, and then sent another Blue ahead of him to lead him to Ginny. "What?" he demanded.

"Blaise-"

"I swear, we had nothing to do with that! We were looking, sure, but we've been in a battle all day. Hogwarts fell, the Ministry fell, and we just took the Ministry back."

"Hogwarts fell?"

"Yeah, everyone was gone over the summer to actually see their families. We're still working out what to do about that."

Another pause, and then Morgan collected himself. "You really didn't do anything?"

"No." He almost ran into Ginny as she sprinted around a corner. "Shit- What?"

"Luna said she saw Riddle making his way to the Department of Mysteries," she gasped. "He tried to kill her, but Lafla got in the way and protected her." Of course the boggart had. He was starting to really like that adorable little terrifying thing. "She thinks he went through the Veil."

He swore again and started running after Ginny as she led him to the underground department. "Hey, Morgan, we're keeping Zacharias here in case someone attacks Quantico. Let him know, and he'll get the rest of us back here, but we need to go through the Veil."

"Why do you think they're coming after Quantico?"

"Call it a hunch, but if the blood wards are back up," he said, nodding in confirmation as Ginny's eyes widened beside him, "you should have protection until we can get there. Let Blackwolf know he needs to be on alert."

"All right. And Blaise, you swear you had nothing to do with this?"

"I don't know what's going on, but I should be seeing Harry pretty soon and I'll ask him if he's heard anything. I'm going to keep this quiet until we know what's going on. Morgan, I promise that wasn't us. We literally did not have the time today, especially not in the last couple of hours."

A hesitant, "Okay. I believe you. And Blaise, be careful."

"And you." He hung up. "They have no idea why the wards are back up."

"Hotch has to be back," Ginny said urgently. They skidded to a halt by the elevators and she slapped the button to summon it. One immediately came up to them and they rushed in, closed the door, and sent the elevator down. "That's the only way they could have returned."

"I know, but how? We hadn't started on the ritual!"

Ginny shrugged, exasperated, and gave the simplest, most logical explanation - "It's Hotch. Who knows?"

"We'll deal with it later. Is Luna okay?"

"She's fine. Lafla turned into Riddle's dead body when he got close to them, so that apparently freaked him out enough that he just left them alone. Luna thought it would be a horrible idea to go after him on her own, which I commend her for - we need someone with a hint of intelligence in this group-" Blaise nodded, paused to feel insulted, then decided he rather agreed and nodded again, "and she's just waiting for us now."

The elevator doors opened into the dark, tiled tunnels of the Department of Mysteries, and they took off running again. A couple of minutes later found them by the Veil room, Luna already waiting for them, and the trio entered without further lingering. It hadn't changed, even with the fighting, and had taken no damage. The group hurried in, casting the required spells on themselves as they entered the dias, though Blaise tripped on the last step as he was going down and fumbled the third spell. It would have to work, he grudgingly decided, not bothering to try it again.

"Lafla, you might want to stay here," Luna coaxed, but the creature chirruped at her. "Oh, well then." Blaise waved Ginny through and she vanished into the Veil as Luna started casting the three spells on her boggart. Blaise jumped into the Veil next, leaving Luna to finish the spells.

Almost immediately, he knew he'd screwed up. He was passing through at a regular pace, sure, but the presences around him that had always been so benign were now snatching at him, grasping at his clothing and trying to hold him back. No, they were trying to go with him, but their efforts were starting to slow him down. Halfway there, he knew he wasn't going nearly as quickly as he should have been going, and he had no clue if that would prevent him from going all the way through. He couldn't even steer, let alone push himself into going faster.

A hand grasped his upper arm in a ferocious grip, startling him, but the presence slamming into him shoved them both forward and Blaise didn't risk trying to shake it off. Terrified, he frantically started planning what he was going to have to do the instant he landed. The other person would probably be taken off guard, and he could surely knock them out before they had really gotten their bearings back.

Unfortunately, the presence seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and the hands dragged themselves up, grasping his shoulder and then his neck. Blaise's own hands shot out, trying to at least keep the other presence away from him, but his arms were quickly, almost thoughtlessly batted away. The hand around his neck wasn't squeezing yet, though the presence started to pull itself closer so Blaise couldn't kick out easily. The other hand joined its partner, and between them, he was starting to feel just how muscled the presence was. He didn't have a hope of getting to his wand once they landed, he realized, panicked.

Ginny was on the other side. Surely she would react quickly enough to help him, with her instincts. Still, his hand drifted towards his waistband in the back, fingers touching the handle of the Apache knife. Wand or not, this close he could probably get a good hit in. Even as he thought it, the presence grabbed onto his wrist, yanking it up front without any heed for Blaise's struggling. The hand still around his neck tightened in warning, and what felt like claws started to dig into his skin. This was familiar, too familiar, and the backs of his scarred legs started to ache in memory of the callous, bold disregard for human life.

More presences grabbed onto him, desperate and far too hopeful. Within seconds, he had completely ground to a halt as hands moved over him, seeking help and reassurance from something that was still living. Everywhere they touched, he started to feel cold, and within another minute he wasn't breathing anymore. Above him, he felt Luna whiz by easily and saw her shoot out the other side, safe with Lafla and Ginny while he remained stuck, cursing himself for so flippantly disregarding the third spell.

The light at both ends was blotted out by bodies pressing on him for every angle, and the touches reveled in the feeling of his rapidly fading warmth. The one who had its hands around his throat started lashing out, trying to shake people off, but too many came back immediately, pushed by their own determination and the press of bodies around him. The last of Blaise's breath went out and he could draw no more in while he was in the vacuum within the Veils. Part of him wondered if this wasn't for the best. Even if he had gotten out, he likely wouldn't have survived with his aggressor so close to him, and then the presence would have tried to move onto Ginny and Luna. He hoped they didn't waste time trying to get back to him and just moved on. Others needed them more right now.

Whispers surrounded him with the presences, begging and pleading, and he tried to shut them out, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. By his legs, two presences rapidly departed, and a new one replaced them. The presence steadily made its way up him, hands just as frigid as everyone else's, but the new presence's whispers were calm, diplomatic, and reassuring, and the other presences around him slowly began to detach until there were only a couple remaining. Some that began to depart grabbed the ones around them and led them away, until the only two left were the first presence and the last one.

The new presence climbed up further, then wrapped its arms around Blaise's waist, braced itself, and then kicked out at the more offensive presence. The first one jolted in surprise and tried to lash out, but the second's position made it difficult for him to aim properly. After a moment, the second reached up and yanked at the arm holding Blaise's, and the Slytherin fought with him so both were tugging to get the arm released.

Then another presence slammed into them, and the force of that sent all three tumbling to the nearest Veil. It detached immediately and they flew unimpeded towards the light once more.

They were still locked in combat when they tumbled out the other side, and the landing was not so much uncomfortable as it was painful when knees and elbows went into guts and other soft places. The claw around his throat solidified, and Blaise threw his head downward in front of him, slamming it into the nose of whoever was in front of him. There was a snarl, and then the second presence, now formed as a human, stood up and dragged Blaise with him, pulling him off the first. Blaise heard startled gasps from the girls as he stumbled to his feet, arms waving to get his balance, and sucked in huge gasps of air.

The werewolf lunged up but the man holding Blaise moved himself in the way, protecting Blaise as one claw cut through the air. Ginny shouted a spell as the man grunted in pain, taking the blow, and the werewolf was forced to pull back. Blaise looked around the person encircling him and was unsurprised to recognize Greyback rapidly retreating, darting off the dias and running towards the exit, using pillars for cover as he sprinted from the place he was far outnumbered in. Luna was just staring at Blaise and the man next to him.

"I thought I recognized you as I went by," she said as the door slammed shut behind Greyback.

Ginny made an abortive attempt to go after him, then turned back to them. "What did you do, Blaise?" she asked curiously, stunned.

He didn't answer, instead dropping weakly to the floor as his legs gave out, suffering from an oxygen debt. The arms relaxed around him, one jerkily from the injury it had sustained, but the uninjured hand rested on his back calmly as he heaved in air. He was shaking from the cold of the Veil and the presences around him, and he couldn't help but lean in to the warm body that was now beside him. Once the black dots in his vision went away, he knew the implications of that warmth were going to sink in.

"You didn't cast the third spell correctly, did you?" Luna asked and Blaise shook his head, coughing to clear his lungs. "I would suggest taking better care next time, even though it seems the benefits have balanced the consequences this time. Unless, of course, you die in the next couple of minutes because you were there for too long."

"That's encouraging," Ginny said.

Finally, as he had enough breath back to speak, he turned to the figure behind him with the intention of thanking him for talking the rest of the souls into backing away from Blaise and into pushing them forward again. And then it was his turn to stare.

"I can't tell if this is a very good day or a very bad day," he finally said. He coughed again.

"Let's walk while you tell me what's happened. It seems there's a lot I need to catch up on," Jason Gideon replied.


Harry jolted into consciousness after seven hours, panting. He recognized the infirmary ceiling about him and knew he was safe, but that did nothing to appease his nerves, and he turned to the side, chest heaving, to look for his wand. It was on the bedside table next to him, and he started frantically shuffling up, forcing himself halfway into a sitting position. Pain erupted across his midsection and he grimaced, fingers tightening on the sheets for a half second, then started again.

One arm went across his shoulders and the other went over his chest, both covered in blood stained material. Harry glanced to the source, surprised he hadn't noticed anyone there with him. He froze, the important matter at the forefront of his thoughts slipping away instantly.

Hotch took advantage of his shock and slowly lowered him back to the bed, then put a light hand on his chest to stop him from getting back up. He was frowning lightly, frustrated by Harry's injury and his escape attempt, but he didn't say anything, reprimanding or reassuring, and that was enough to set off Harry's warning bells until he remembered that he hadn't been able to hear anything from Hotch when Foyet had attacked him.

"Dad?" he whispered. Hotch nodded. "...Prove it."

Hotch huffed gently and held out his hand. Harry took it cautiously, feeling the cold, dead skin, and automatically letting his fingers run over the scars he had practically memorized from touch alone in the aftermath of the Silent Massacre.

"Why?" His fingers continued tracing Hotch's palm even as his gaze stayed focused on Hotch. "Why now?"

"I wasn't going to fail you again," Hotch said without any sound.

"You never did that," Harry said quietly, but Hotch just looked at him sadly. "So... How long do you have?"

Hotch shrugged. "I don't know, but I hope I have enough time to help you finish this."

Harry smiled ever so slightly. "Yeah, I suppose we need to get back to our usual-" He flailed, trying to push himself up again, and Hotch tried to hold him down. "Jack!" Hotch paused, still with his hand on Harry's chest but now unsure. "Dad, they went after Jack- I have to go find him!"

"What happened?" Hotch demanded. Even without putting more weight on his son, he was easily holding him down, and Harry was forced to explain everything that he had been told. "If they weren't in the house, Draco may have already gotten to them."

"Then why weren't there any lingering Death Eaters trying to figure out where they'd gone?" Harry demanded, trying again in vain to get up. Hotch only had to make a small effort to keep him down.

"I'll go find out," he said, firmly even without a voice. "Harry, stay here."

"You can't expect me to just-"

"If you try to come with me, I'm going to lose both of you."

"If I don't, I'll lose the only close family I've got left!" Harry snapped. "You're already dead, and you just admitted you don't know how long you're here for!"

Hotch flinched and Harry instantly regretted it, but he stood his ground. Unfortunately, so did Hotch. "You can barely get up," he said. "How do you think you're going to save Jack without forcing someone else to come save both of you? It won't take me long to get him, but you have to promise me you won't leave here. I can't focus on both of you at the same time and-" he quickly added as Harry started to protest "-the longer we sit here arguing the more danger Jack is going to be in. And if you come with me, you'll slow me down."

Harry glared at him for the reminder. "You don't have magic," he countered.

"It would seem that I can't get injured in this state, so I hardly need it."

"Stupefy!"

The bolt hit Harry before Hotch could stop it and he whipped around, shielding Harry with one arm instinctively while he searched out the culprit. Snape lowered his wand and eyed him strangely. "What the hell happened to-" He paused. "I don't care. Riddle has Jack."

The look of familiarity in his eyes was far different from the look he had gotten from the other Snape an hour ago, and Hotch allowed himself to lean away from Harry so he could stand up straight. "I heard. What happened?"

"Draco tried to get them all out by pretending to be his doppelganger, but he was too aggressive and someone planted a tracking spell on him. He was followed, and he managed to get this world's Haley and Jack to safety but your Jack tried to stick with him when he left." Of course he had - Jack had lost too many people to easily allow another to separate from him, especially in a strange situation. "Riddle - our Riddle - has both of them."

Hotch glanced at Harry, who was still out cold, and debated whether he could leave him or not. Surely there was no harm to it, not when this place hadn't even officially gone to war yet. "Why are you here?" Snape gave him a look and he realized he'd still been half-turned away from him when he'd spoken, so he faced him before repeating it.

"We don't know where he hid the other two. I was hoping Harry knew, but from what I heard, it doesn't sound like it."

"Does Riddle know you're here?"

"No, but it doesn't matter." At Hotch's frown, he said, "He'll hardly believe I'm on his side when I release Jack and Draco."

Harry was going to be fine. Hotch hurried towards Snape, and the two left the infirmary, the former hoping that his son had the good sense to stay put for now until he knew more about what was going on. "Dumbledore won't be happy about that."

"Perhaps, but in the words of your Quantico students - he can suck it."


When Harry woke up, he was frustrated before he could even remember why. Then it came back to him, and he was furious.

He could only assume that Hotch had left long ago if the stupefy had taken him out for as long as he suspected it had. The time that had passed apparently wasn't long enough for him to have returned - if he was going to - or for Madame Pomfrey to be watching for him to wake up, so he quietly started to rise, taking care not to hurt his midsection. It felt much better than it had when he'd first tried to throw himself to a standing position, but it still twinged painfully. When he was sitting up, he lifted his shirt to see how bad the damage was. It wasn't completely healed, but he estimated the rest he had gotten had definitely gotten things on the right course.

That didn't mean it wasn't outrageously stupid to start off on a mission to find his brother, but things like logic just didn't stop him these days. Not when the impossible regularly came true.

The cot he was on had the privacy curtains drawn around it, and he supposed that someone must have been brought into the infirmary. He stood up slowly, grabbed his wand off the stand beside the bed, then quietly slid open the curtains. Further down the row, he saw a familiar redhead lying on a cot, surrounded by Potter, an adult he didn't recognize, and Pomfrey. As he watched, the adult started to turn, and Harry ducked behind the curtain until he heard him the infirmary doors close behind him.

"Best to just give it time, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey said. "He'll be fine. You did a stupendous job this evening."

"Thanks," Potter muttered, like he didn't really care, and despite Harry's urgings to get to Jack as quickly as possible, he had to wonder what had laid up Weasley in the infirmary and put his other self in such a foul mood.

Pomfrey walked back to her office, leaving Potter by Weasley's bed, and Harry slipped out behind the curtain to come stand by him. "What happened?" he asked quietly.

Potter, who'd looked up as he approached, now went back to staring at his friend. The whole story came spilling out, how Weasley had been so obsessed with his girlfriend that, as soon as they'd returned from the fight in the Ministry, he'd gone straight to her and promptly had the most disgusting make out session in the history of disgusting make out sessions. Realizing something was definitely up, Potter had taken him to Slughorn the next evening - "Who?" "Potions professor." "What happened to Snape?" "Defense." "Oh." - to get treated for a love potion after he spent the day moaning about how he couldn't tell her what had happened.

It had worked, but the drink Weasley had had afterward had ended the horrendous day with an almost tragic finale. The only reason he had survived was because of the bezoar Potter had forced down his friend's throat. Now they were here, with no clue who had poisoned the drink Slughorn had and no idea who the poison had been meant for in the first place.

"I mean, there's no way someone could have known Ron would have that drink," Potter said, "no one but Slughorn and I, and even then, Slughorn wouldn't have had time to prepare it, right?"

"I suppose not," Harry said, a horrible feeling creeping on him as he realized that he was going to have to leave Weasley under some sort of protection before he left. "Look, I've got to get going. Something happened, and no, please don't offer your help this time."

"I thought you got your brother taken care of," Potter said with a frown. "What else happened?"

"Still that."

"Then why are you here at all?"

"It's a long story." One he was evidently going to have to repeat no matter how badly he didn't want to, because the doors to the infirmary opened and admitted Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. "Fantastic."

Snape cast his gaze around the wing, then bore down on Harry. "Where did he go?" he demanded.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You were the one who saw him last." Unless, of course...

Snape scoffed at him and Dumbledore held up a hand to stall any further complaints. "It is of the utmost importance that we understand what happened today."

There was no way he was getting past everyone in his state without taking more damage and being forced to stay in the infirmary unless he wanted to die in the middle of the rescue attempt. Between him and Potter, they gave the whole story of what had gone down in the other world and the subsequent issues of their return. Snape went curiously still when Harry mentioned Draco, and Potter's expression darkened.

"I told you that you shouldn't trust him," Potter muttered and Harry looked at him sharply. "If your brother's gone, it's not in spite of Malfoy trying to fight his father's friends off."

"You," Harry said crossly, "have no idea what Draco has survived in our world. And he knows he hasn't survived it by being a turncoat and throwing his morals to the wolves. But I don't have time for this discussion, so what do you know?" He turned to Snape.

"Why do you think I know anything?" Snape snapped.

"Because you always know something, and don't give me that look." McGonagall's eyebrows went up at the remark and Snape scowled harder. "It's extremely immature."

"Severus, have you heard anything?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why would he know anything?" Potter demanded and Snape's scowl was turned on him instead. Harry wasn't sure who he'd rather throw out the window at the moment.

"Can you two have your bitch fight later, when my brother's not in danger?" Harry snarled when it looked like one or both of them was about to press the issue. "I'd rather have someone alive in my family."

"Well, it looks like your dear old father's back," Snape sneered at him.

With a cold expression, Harry replied, "He's come and gone before. I wouldn't expect him to stick around just because he showed up this once, and it's hardly a relationship when I only get to see him when I'm so close to dying that I can hardly think, let alone talk to him. Now. Did Riddle tell you anything?"

"You're really going to trust him?" Potter hissed under his breath at him. Harry gave into the urges and smacked him upside the head, eliciting a sharp, "Ow!"

At least the gesture seemed to amuse Snape enough that he gave in. "The Dark Lord was interested in hearing whether or not Mr. Malfoy was still in the school, which he is."

"That's it?"

"It would seem that he is rather preoccupied with his new captives to give me a full discourse on the situation."

Harry's lips tightened. Dumbledore gave Snape a look for provoking him, but Harry didn't snap back. He just didn't have the time. "Is he still at Malfoy Manor?"

"He's not in your time?"

"We ransacked it when the Death Eaters pissed us off. So he is?"

"Yes."

"Great. I think I still remember the layout. Some Death Eaters came over before we could stop them - I'm assuming that they've already met up with this world's forces?"

"They have."

"Right. Well. This should be interesting. I'll be going, then."

McGonagall stared at him incredulously. "You can hardly expect to go anywhere in your condition!"

"Yeah, well, I'm supposed to die soon anyway, so it doesn't really matter," he pointed out. "And my brother's not dying before me."

"Admirable," the potions master said, and then for the second time that evening, Harry was knocked out by a stupefy from a Snape when he wasn't looking.


Jack thought the place he had been taken was rather peculiar. It smelled like house elves, for one thing, but there was also a strange odor to it from all the robes everyone wore. Unlike the ones the students at Hogwarts wore, these robes were prepared differently, pressed and cleaned by house elf magic. They smelled...elitist, upper class. It was kind of nauseating.

Those weren't the words that came to Jack's mind, of course, but he was rather fixated on the smells as he tried to block out the sounds that were drifting to his sharpened ears. The people who had grabbed him had separated him from Draco early on despite his fighting and clawing, and then they'd dragged him to this strange room and left him here. The seats were plush, at least, and there was a warm fire going nearby, but his hair was standing on end and there was a nervous tingle running under his skin. Not to mention it felt like days since they had left him here, and he was getting very hungry and thirsty.

He wanted Elle. He wanted JJ. He wanted Draco. He wanted Ron. He wanted Hermione. He wanted Harry.

He wanted Dad.

"Quantico, the Empire State Building, the White House, the Ministry, the Veil, Malfoy Manor, Buckingham Palace, the Eiffel Tower-" Draco's words, high and loud from pain, broke off as he started screaming again, and Jack scrunched up further into the chair, pushing as far back into the cushioning as he could and pulling his legs up closer to him. His arms were tight by his sides and his hands were clenched over his ears as he tried to block out the sound.

"Where did you take them?" a woman shouted again.

"Steak 'n' Shake, Hufflepuff house, the Forbidden Forest, Diagon Alley, the Hotchner home, Colorado!"

His screams would have been inaudible to anyone else in the room with Jack. He heard them all too clearly, even as he started humming to himself futilely. The sound did nothing to soothe his nerves or overrun the screams.

"I told you already, stop, stop! Please!" His next scream cracked and jumped to a higher pitch. Jack stifled a sob.

A smell began to drift towards him, different from those he had been catching before, and he wanted to start screaming himself. Maybe that man didn't know where he was at, he hoped. Maybe, maybe, maybe-

Maybe someone was going to save him like last time.

But Dad was dead and Harry was gone.

The door opened and he flinched, curling tighter into a ball. Two pairs of footsteps came closer, one heavier and the other light, until they were standing only a couple of feet away from him. Jack whimpered softly as the smell of the wolf-man hit his nostrils.

"Hm, recognize me, do you?" the wolf-man asked, and Jack's back ached in memory of the bite.

"You bit him?" the other man whispered, only distantly interested. He smelled strangely comforting, like Kiyo and Zagreus, venomous and reptilian.

The wolf-man grunted in reply. "Potter loved him. Thought I should return the favor for what he did to me." Jack heard the man move closer and he tried to hide in the chair for a moment, pressing himself back, then gave up the endeavor and started to fling himself over the arm in an attempt to get away. Hands grabbed him and forced him to stay in place, and a knee held his legs down while his arms were held to the wolf-man's chest by one of his own.

With his free hand, the wolf-man grabbed Jack's chin and forced him to look in his direction. Jack instinctively opened his eyes, but they only showed him vague colors and strange outlines, useless when he needed more clarity to make heads or tails of what was in front of him. What he could see was dark except for some light from the fire to his left. The wolf-man laughed. "Your eyes... You can't see, can you?" he asked gleefully. "Oh, that's fitting, that is. Do you know what your brother did to me?" The wolf-man let his chin go and grabbed one of his wrists instead. Jack struggled against him, whimpering louder and trying to pull his limbs towards him again, but the man forced his hand to his face. Under his shaking fingers, he could feel terrible scars where eyes should have been. "We're one of a kind, we are."

"Stop, go away, please," Jack whispered. "Go away!"

Draco started screaming again and he flinched, wrenching the arm the wolf-man wasn't focused on away and slapping his hand over his ear again, burying the other ear against his shoulder. The man breathed out in delight. "Oh, you can hear him? What a savior - can't even save himself."

"He has not yet accepted lycanthropy," the other man, so silent until now, murmured.

"No, but I think they tried to do something about it." The wolf-man sniffed. "He smells a bit odd. Can't say what they did, though, but it looks like it failed if his eyes are anything to go by. Stupid muggles. Looks like it did improve his other senses, though."

Jack turned his head towards the other man, the snake one. "Help me," he whispered in parseltongue, and he heard a faint intake of breath. "Please, please, get him away from me. Don't let him hurt me! Please!"

"Leave us," the high voice whispered.

"What?"

"You wanted a task - ensure that the other one who returned to the living with you will not be a problem."

There was a long pause as the wolf-man's heart rate increased furiously. Then he shoved Jack's limbs away, the boy quickly pulling them back in relief, and he stalked out of the room. He slammed the door behind him and his scent faded as he strode away from them.

"Thank you," Jack said quietly, hands moving back over his ears as Draco begged for people to stop hurting him.

"You can hear your friend," the man noted, his clothing rustling as he took the chair opposite Jack. "Do you want his pain to stop?"

Jack nodded, tears pricking at his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

"I can do that for you. But if I do, you need to do something for me."

"Okay," he said immediately.

There was a soft, almost amused hum. "I haven't even told you what it is yet."

"Please, just make it stop."

"I will let Draco go, but you will stay here with me. You won't see him or anyone else ever again." Jack nodded in understanding, though he didn't see why the snake-man felt the need to point this out when it was kind of obvious that he couldn't see anything anyway. "I'll teach you all you wish to learn, and more. You will learn to enjoy things you could have never dreamed of before."

"...Okay." He was more than a little confused, but he was sure he could get someone to explain what this man was talking about later. He flinched as Draco's location ranting cut off again, replaced by shrieks of agony. "Please, tell them to stop it! They're hurting him!"

"I will do so momentarily. But first-" The man rose, and Jack reflexively shifted away as he came closer. His robes rustled when he reached into his pocket, and then he was pressing something into Jack's hand, and a surge of emotions hit him.

How dare those people make Draco scream like that? How dare anyone cause any of his family harm? And yet, his family - where were they now, when he needed them so badly? Wasn't this his father's job, to save people like him? Why had his father died anyway - and was it Harry's fault, like he claimed? Hadn't Harry cared about their remaining parent?

"Good," the voice whispered, and a part of Jack understood that something was terribly wrong. "Now, this item I give you is very important. You must not tell anyone about it. I am entrusting you with this, and you don't want to let me down, do you?" Jack shook his head quickly, eager to please when it meant helping Draco. "Very good. Aren't you a good boy?"

"Can I go home?"

"No. Your family isn't coming for you. They don't want you back." Jack bit his lip, stifling a sob as his shoulders started to shake. "You will stay here with me from now on. I will care for you, so you will have no need for your family anymore."

"Please, I want to go home!"

"This is home now." A cold, reserved hand settled on his head and he tried to strain away from it, but he was limited by the confines of the chair. "I will see to Draco. Stay, and I will return shortly."

The man glided across the room, opened and closed the door, and then started down the hall outside. "A Parselmouth...!" Jack heard him murmur to himself, and he wondered what was so important about that. Harry was one too, so it wasn't like that was anything uncommon.

Despite the man's claims, there was nothing remotely appealing about this situation. He stuffed the hard, blocky item into his pocket just as his stomach rumbled. It wouldn't do any harm to eat while no one could see him, right? But where to get food from... The ones who had always helped him had been family, or the Bloody Baron, or-

"Dobby!" he whispered.

There was a pop beside him and he jumped. The house elf let out a surprised noise. "And who might you be, young mister?" the house elf asked, stunned.

Jack frowned disapprovingly at him. "You know me!"

"Dobby is sure that Dobby does not!"

Jack's frown increased, but at himself this time. Of course, this Dobby was a replica, like the other Jack was of himself. "Well, okay... But can I have something to eat, please?"

There was a long pause. "Dobby is most agreeable to getting young mister help," he began, "but this does not look like the place to do so. Why does young mister be here?"

"I can't get out, and the man told me to stay here so he'd release Draco."

There was a loud scream, but it didn't come from Draco this time. No, it was from an adult.

"Well, that is most odd," Dobby commented. "Most odd indeed! It almost sounds like Crabbe is being strangled by a cockatrice!" He stopped himself when Jack looked at him in shock. "Oh, Dobby does not mean to trouble young mister. Dobby is most sorry!"

"It's okay," Jack whispered. "I think."

There was another loud scream, though this one was infuriated. "What does it take to kill one of you?" she howled.

"Lestrange this time!" the elf murmured to himself. "Something strange is afoot here." He shook himself with a disgruntled humph. "Well, that can be sorted later. Perhaps we should get hungry young mister food first, hm?"

"I'd like that."

"But, ah, Dobby thinks we should not be here, so Dobby will be taking you away."

Jack froze. "I can't!" he said, horrified. "They'll keep hurting Draco if I leave!"

"Well, what they don'st know, they don'st care about, do they?" Dobby asked. "Dobby will leave something that looks like you behind."

Jack sank in relief. "Oh, thank you!" He could practically hear Dobby beaming at him.

Another scream.

"Hm. Most odd, indeed. If young mister does not mind, Dobby would very much like to see what is happening before young mister and Dobby leaves." Jack nodded hesitantly. "Then Dobby will be back before young mister thinks twice about it!"

A pop, and Jack was alone in the room again. Someone else screamed in horror. It didn't really sound like anyone was in pain, just very startled. At least Draco hadn't started up again. Jack shifted in the chair, legs still up next to him, and tried to get more comfortable while he waited for Dobby to return. The item in his pocket was making it difficult, digging into his thigh, but he was too afraid to take it back out again.

"Avada Kedavra!" the snake-man shouted a couple of floors below. He didn't sound very happy. Something crashed heavily to the floor, like a large mirror, and the snake-man was quiet for a couple of moments before he repeated what he had shouted before.

There were more loud sounds from below Jack and he winced at every one of them. It was taking an absurd amount of time for Dobby to get back, compared to what Jack was used to, and he started to worry for the elf. If he'd gone anywhere near those sounds, he could be in real danger now. The sounds shook the building sometimes, and Jack would cling tightly to the chair, and then they would move farther away from him.

Just when everything seemed to calm down, the whole building trembled with a loud, extended crashing noise as a wall came down. Jack's hands gripped the chair painfully, hoping and hoping that Draco and Dobby were okay.

And then, "You idiot! You could have killed me!" It was the angry woman who had been shouting at Draco, and later demanded to know why someone wasn't dying.

"Dobby never meant to kill!" Dobby shouted back. "Dobby only meant to maim, or seriously injure!"

A pop and Jack jumped, startled. "She is an unpleasant woman," Dobby commented from across the room, but he wasn't turned towards Jack.

"What are we doing here?" Snape asked slowly. Jack hadn't met the man as often as he'd met some of the other people living at Hogwarts, but he still perked up at the sound of his voice. Apart from him and Dobby, there were two others he could smell in the room. One was Draco, whose breathing sounded painful and ragged, on the brink of tears. The other had a smell that made Jack's heart clench every time he caught it.

The fourth one hurried towards him, feet making noise on the carpet even as his body made no sound. His lungs weren't whispering with air passing in and out, his heart wasn't thumping. And yet, he was running, and an instant later he was at Jack's side as Jack turned to him, painfully hopeful in spite of everything he knew. Hands that were scarred from something he still didn't quite understand reached for his, and Jack clung on to him immediately.

Before he could stop himself, it escaped him. "Dad?"

There was a noise like the person in front of him was moving slightly, but he didn't say anything.

"Hotch," Snape said. "He's blind. He can't see you. ...He can't see what you're saying."

One of the hands released Jack's and ran over the side of his face sadly. Jack leaned into the touch, still straining to hear any words from his father. "Dad?" he asked again, pitifully. A scent on his father was becoming almost overwhelming now that he was standing so close. "You're bleeding, you're bleeding badly..."

Draco was stumbling towards them, and Jack tilted his head reluctantly away from his father, trying to hear what Draco was doing. The teenager fell, grabbing onto something with a hiss, and Snape immediately made an abortive effort to stop him. Draco pushed himself up with difficulty, practically tumbled to the floor with every step he took, and then collapsed beside Jack's chair. One hand sought out Jack's cheek, reassuring himself that the boy was alive, and a shuddering breath left him.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, and there was a note to his voice that scared Jack. It didn't sound like Draco. The blond boy was never desperate. The trembling hand on his cheek and his tone said differently.

"Dobby would suggest we go somewhere else before the angry woman comes up here."

Jack's father scooped Jack up into his arms, and Jack eagerly wrapped his own arms around his neck, holding on tightly. Draco managed to get to his feet and almost immediately fell against Jack's father, who supported him as best as he could with his arms filled with Jack. Draco took what he could get and kept a hand on Jack's wrist, searching out that little bit of comfort, while Snape hurried across the room to stand by them. After a moment, Draco lowered Jack's hand to touch Dobby's shoulder, and, with all of them holding on, Dobby vanished, taking them with him.

[-]

Author's Note: There's a reason I didn't put up a warning for major character deaths at any point in this story!

Thanks to everyone who pointed out a word error in the last chapter! It should have read that "And the white dragon represented the old order and the redthe new, that of Arthur's Camelot. I've heard this before." Which brings up something from way, way back... Anyone remember the red dragon that Trelawney saw in the tea leaves?