The moment Harry fell asleep, he found himself inside the dining room of a large mansion. Looking around, he found snake images everywhere, even small snake statues.
"You would not believe how hard it was to get you here, but I am nothing if not patient."
Spinning around, he saw Tom Riddle materialise at the end of the table. The boy's hair was now longer, reaching down to his shoulders in an untidy mess. His eyes were still brown, but they were much colder and contained more anger than they had in the chamber.
As for his robes, they looked suspiciously like his old school robes, complete with a faded spot exactly where the Slytherin badge used to be.
Smirking, Harry conjured his coat and said "You aren't looking too good Tom, I'd have thought you would hate to look so disheveled."
This had the desired effect of angering Tom, who stood up so quickly his chair fell backwards.
Tom started yelling, red magic boiling off of him "Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep up appearances when you're on the run? Constantly looking over your shoulder and expected to see Dumbledore and his infernal gaze? Having spent 6 years planning my rise to power, only to have it all undone by suddenly waking up in the wrong decade?"
Taking a deep breath, Tom visibly relaxed. When he next spoke, his voice was back to its normal volume and silky smooth. "But it matters not, after a year of trying, you're here now. Now we can talk."
"Well, you've got me. So, what did you want? Because I've got plans tomorrow and while I would love to talk, I would rather be doing literally anything instead of talking to you."
Once again, Tom's magic flashed. This time the magic got close to him, but it fell back before Harry felt the need to react. He noted that Tom seemed more unstable than he had just two years ago, possibly due to the dark circles under the man's eyes.
"I… wanted to call a truce. I've had a long time to think and I came to a shocking conclusion, I don't have a reason to hate you. Whatever made my future self try to kill you has never happened to me, while I've done nothing to make you hate me."
"So, I'm just meant to sit back and let you kill everything I care about?" Harry asked curiously, finding Tom's attempt humorous.
Tom shrugged, sitting back down in his chair. "Who says I'm planning on anything? I could just want to live in peace, is that such a crime?"
"I guess we'll just have to see what the future holds, I certainly have more important things to do than chase you down. But, if you do anything to me, then I will end you." Inside, he felt a perverse sense of glee when Tom flinched back.
"But enough of that, now it's time for you to answer one of my questions. Clearly you didn't arrange this meeting simply to call a truce, but I doubt you'd tell me the truth even if I asked. What I actually want to know, is why did it take you a year to get me here?"
"Now that's a curious tale. You see, being under a strong enough protective ward makes it extremely hard to be affected by hypnokinesis. Somehow, almost every time you have gone to sleep you were either under a ward or too far away, then the few times you were in range I couldn't penetrate your mind."
Harry was glad to hear that his mithrilium didn't just protect him from legilimency and basilisks.
"But then, when I thought all hope was gone, I discovered something miraculous. I am honest enough to admit, the only reason we are talking now is because I accidentally discovered this miracle. It has been extremely vexing to have failed so spectacularly, particularly when I consider divination one of my specialities."
He quickly filed away the fact Tom, and presumably the older Voldemort, was a practitioner of divination. While some like McGonagall considered it worthless, Harry knew it could be an incredibly powerful skill.
Even if Tom's dream projection wasn't evidence enough, the scrying boom of 1325 was one of the main causes for wards being seen as a necessity. It was funny how often learned witches and wizards forgot that divining the future was but one branch of divination.
"Fascinating." Harry said blandly.
Grinning, Tom then cocked his head to one side. "Don't act the fool, it doesn't suit you. We are not so different you know, aside from just our good looks of course. We were both the smartest in our year, but despite this we spend our time in solitude. I bet you spend the majority of your time trying to learn all you can about magic, beyond that which others would consider 'evil'."
Tom paused to sneer, clearly disliking the word. Harry felt a sense of déjà vu, as Tom was unknowingly reciting a speech Voldemort had used during his first year.
"There is, of course, no good or evil, only power and those too weak to understand it… I learned a lot during my year at Hogwarts, even though I found the lack of progress disturbing. But our similarities don't end with just the school. When I eventually found your refuge, imagine my surprise when you had chosen a room down the corridor from my own refuge?"
While Tom monologued, Harry split his consciousness and sent a part to Corvus, or more accurately Corvus the 2nd. He had previously tried to find Voldemort's signature using Corvus, however every time he had failed. But now he had something to follow.
It took Corvus a total of four minutes to fly from Godric's Hollow to the camp ground, just barely flying under the sound barrier. Once there, he was just barely able to pick up a tiny tendril of Tom's blood red magic, which was missing the darker tint of the elder Voldemort.
This was either due to Tom's soul being marginally lighter, or the more likely option of his magic being slightly tainted by taking on Ginny Weasley's bright red magic. While the other half of his consciousness entertained Riddle, he stayed with Corvus II as it followed the magic.
As they drew closer to Riddle the tendril started growing thicker, until the magic suddenly curved down into a circle of stones. The site was surrounded by a large notice-not ward, but Corvus II easily sailed through them. To his embarrassment, he only recognised it as Stonehenge once they landed on one of the stones.
Riddle was sat cross-legged on the centre stone, surrounded by a heptagon which had seven equilateral triangles on every side. The result was a seven pointed star, Harry knew all three symbols were magically powerful.
Everything was drawn in blood, which glowed magically. Despite the fact his consciousness was only attached to Corvus II, he had no trouble feeling the raw amount of magic radiating out of the circle.
With his mission complete, he let his consciousness return to the dream.
"But, the night grows short and I must make my leave. Have fun at the World Cup won't you?" Tom smirked at that, with Harry getting the impression he was meant to be scared his location had been revealed.
"Oh, I will. I must say, I find the campsite far more interesting than Stonehenge. Cleaning up all that blood must be a nightmare."
At this, Tom's eyes flashed red, while his face twisted in fear. Then with a pulse of his own magic, he broke the connection and let himself fall back into bed.
A few hours later, after a drowsy breakfast, Harry found himself walking through the market. Tonks was somewhere behind him, while Lockhart had gotten waylaid by fans. It was unfortunately not as exciting as he had hoped, the masses once again going out of their way to turn the thrill of magic into something common-place.
For every stall that sold something exciting, there would also be at least five other stalls that were selling antiques and tatty clothes. Then he found a tiny tent, unassuming aside from the oak door and small sign.
'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'
Turning, he caught Tonks' eye and nodded towards the tent. Upon receiving a nod back, he turned back and cautiously opened the door. He was expecting to see the inside of the tent expanded, with a few rows of wands along the walls.
He didn't expect to see the entire store inexplicably inside. Pausing a moment to Look with his magesight, he was almost blinded by the gigantic concentration of magic inside the doorway. He couldn't understand how it worked, but he knew it wouldn't put him in any danger. With that in mind, he shut off his mage sight with practised ease and stepped across the threshold, the store's bell chiming cheerfully.
There was no sense of movement, except the mithril bracelet Tonks always wore went from within ten feet to around 180 miles away. Crossing to the window, he was unsurprised to see the unusually quiet street of Diagon Alley.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, I was not expecting you for another two months. But no matter… no matter. Can I do anything for you, or were you simply interested in my door?" Ollivander smiled warmly.
"I suppose I wanted you to look over my wand, I don't want to suddenly find out I need a new wand… Then I might've gotten distracted by that wonderful door." Harry replied sheepishly.
"An inspection costs eight Sickles per wand. Although should it be revealed you need a new wand, the inspection can be covered by the price of the new wand. If that is agreeable to you, please hand over your wand."
Reaching into his coat, he handed over his blackthorn wand. Then after a moment's hesitation, reached even further into his outer pocket, until he was shoulder deep. Eventually he gripped a wandcase and guiltily withdrew his original walnut wandcase.
Ollivander took both, then reached into his waistcoat and withdrew an old fashioned pair of spindly silver glasses, except they had two shiny emeralds in place of glass. He carefully placed them upon his head then began inspecting the wands, starting with the blackthorn then moving onto the walnut.
As he worked, Harry tried in vain to figure out the door. By the time Ollivander had finished, all Harry had managed to discover was that the doorway somehow led to multiple different doorways.
"Should I explain the door or the wands first?" Ollivander said with a chuckle.
"Err… the wands please."
"Certainly. You will be pleased to know that your blackthorn wand is in excellent condition, although you are starting to strain the core. I would suggest that you look into getting another wand no later than completing your OWLs.
"As for your walnut wand, it is making good progress on its draining, as is common with phoenix feather cores. It gives me great pleasure to announce your wand will be usable no later than your 23rd birthday."
Ollivander sounded extremely pleased with that pronouncement, although Harry found it disappointing to know it would take that long until he could use his first wand again. Upon receiving his wands back, he handed over the 16 Sickles and hid them back within his pockets.
"Now, the true secret behind the door lies in a series of rather complicated runes, which I cannot reveal. However I can tell you how it works. Basically, there are five doors linked to the door frame for this shop, now whenever somebody opens an outer door it forms a portal between the doorway and the frame.
"But, as you might notice, that would only work for people entering the store, anyone leaving would be forced to exit into Diagon Alley. Which is when a customer enters the store they are logged in a book out back, the trigger for this is of course the bell above the door."
Looking closely, he could now see the enchantment linking the bell to the frame.
"Wait a minute, that's how you always know who's entering the store!" Harry exclaimed
"Partly, only partly. It is a skill I spent a great many years perfecting. Anyway, when you go to exit the store, the enchantment remembers where you came from and re-opens a portal to that previous location… In cases where the opening of a portal will interfere with an already established portal, the frame will hold the new customer in suspension until such time as it is safe to enter."
Thanking the man for his time, Harry returned back to the campsite. Now that he knew what to expect, he could feel the slight tremor of magic once the portal was established. Once again, he stepped across the frame and in a single step travelled from the middle of London to Dartmoor forest.
Shaking his head at the ridiculousness, he went back to browsing the various stalls. Slowly he started to find stalls which sold more exotic artefacts, such as a ring that could dispel enchantments or an axe that could summon lightning. His favourite stall sold various staffs, both general purpose and specialised.
A general purpose staff was basically just a bigger wand, except you could channel a greater amount of magic at the cost of control and manoeuvrability. While rarely used in Europe, there were some countries that preferred staffs, like the Caribbean wizards. Then you had the specialised staffs.
These were built with a purpose in mind, such as healing or combat. In these cases, they could allow even a novice to cast master level magic, however they would struggle to cast anything outside their specialisation.
Between himself, Xeno and Dumbledore they had theorised the Elder Wand was somehow created to specialise in magic itself, a feat many staff makers had attempted. Which when combined with its unique form of magic explained why it was 'unbeatable'.
He desperately wanted a staff for himself, however he could tell the staffs on sale were hardly worth the price. The most powerful one was enchanted to transmute stone into water, which would've been useful if the aguamenti charm didn't exist.
With a sigh, Harry forced himself away from the stalls and ushered Tonks away from the record stall, then set off to the beer tent again. With luck, they could finish their lunch quickly and go back to the Hecate Marquee, hopefully meeting up with the Fleur girl from the night before.
"Say, Harry, have you ever tried firewhiskey?" Lockhart asked, mid-way through their meal.
"No… I thought it was illegal for anyone underage to drink it?" Harry asked suspiciously
"Nonsense, it's only illegal to buy it if you're underage. But anyone over the age of 13 can drink it, although it is considered irresponsible to let someone underage get drunk." Lockhart explained, but given the man was made famous by lying Harry looked at Tonks.
"Yeah, he's telling the truth." She said, grinning behind her own glass.
"So, want to try some?" Lockhart pressed
"Sure I guess."
Soon enough he had a bottle placed in front of him, which he cautiously unstoppered and sniffed. It didn't smell too bad, so he raised it to take a sip only to be stopped by Tonks. Her "Cheers!" was instantly picked up by an enthusiastic Lockhart and a suspicious Harry, who knew Tonks well enough to recognise the mischievous glint in her eye.
Following their example, he took a large sip and instantly felt the firewhiskey searing the back of his throat. Suppressing his instinctual reaction to spit it back up, he was revealed when the burning stopped moments later. Then a sense of courage and confidence started spreading through him.
It was an admittedly nice feeling, so nice that when it started fading he eagerly tipped back the remaining bottle. This time he expected the burning and a little use of magic made even the burning pleasant.
When he put down the bottle he was met with Tonks' indignant expression, while Lockhart laughed heartily next to her.
"That's not fair! When my mum first got me to try firewhiskey I panicked and thought I was going to burn my throat, how come you seem so unaffected!"
"My dear, some people just aren't as weak willed." Lockhart said teasingly, surreptitiously sliding Harry another bottle which was eagerly taken.
This time, he drank the bottle slower, pacing himself so that it was still half full by the time his meal was finished. As they made their way out of the tent, Harry was shocked to find that during their time inside the tent the crowd had somehow doubled, with people still coming down from the nearby hill.
Deciding they wouldn't get anything done, the three made their way back to their tent. Occasionally, Harry would pass someone he recognised from Hogwarts, although he had yet to find his friends.
He knew Luna was somewhere in the camp, but her ticket placed her as far away from his tent as possible. Neville hadn't been allowed to attend by his gran, who didn't believe in Quidditch and as muggleborns, Colin and Justin weren't able to get tickets.
From their tent, they had a pretty good view of the new arrivals, with a few coming up to talk to Lockhart. When they weren't being spoken to, Harry and Tonks had taken to playing exploding snap. Eventually, once dusk had settled, vendors started showing up to sell their wares, the most interesting being the omnioculars.
Then, they followed the crowd towards the giant stadium, until they split off to enter through the hidden service door. Upon reaching the box, Harry was thrilled to see food and drinks were provided, including his new favourite, firewhiskey.
Sitting back in his chair, firewhiskey in hand, Harry found himself looking forward to the game, leaning forward with the rest of the crowd once Ludo Bagman began his speech.
It was the screams that awoke Gilderoy, sending him tumbling out of his bed and desperately searching for his wand. With Ireland's victory, they decided to go to sleep early and let the Irish tire themselves out, but only after Gilderoy had consumed a fair amount of firewhiskey.
His door burst open just as his fingers connected with his wand and he swiftly pointed it towards the figure at his door, only to recognise Tonks, who's hair had shifted from dark blue to dark grey then settled on red.
"We need to go, now! Death Eaters are attacking the camp and we can't apparate!" She said, then reached over and threw him his cloak. "Oh… and next time you get taken by surprise, make sure your wand is aiming the right way."
Looking down in confusion, he was embarrassed to realise that in his haste he had pointed the handle of his wand at the auror and had the tip pointed right at his heart. He quickly rightened his wand and fumbled his way inside his cloak, then left his room and met up with Harry and Tonks.
To his mild annoyance, they both seemed better prepared that he did. Indeed, while Lockhart felt like he was able to suffer a full blown panic attack, Harry stood calmly in the centre of the room drawing patterns with his wand.
Wanting to do something, Lockhart sidled up to the boy and tried to figure out what he was drawing. Harry seemed unaware of his presence, as he kept up a near constant stream of shapes, which were always triangles inside heptagons.
Whenever he would finish drawing a symbol he would speak its name, making it glow bright green and begin orbiting him. Everytime he did so Lockhart felt a rush of magic, which made his hair stick on end.
"Sight, feel, danger, sense, warn, predict, inform." By then Harry had a near constant ring of symbols orbiting him, although his keen eyes picked out a large empty spot.
For this symbol Harry put his wand away and held up his other hand, now covered in a strange silver metal, which inexplicably seemed to move like silk. Then the jewel on the back of this gauntlet started glowing, getting increasingly brighter until Lockhart was forced to look away. Despite this, he could tell the light was still increasing, making his skin feel hot.
He suspected it would also have made his hair stick wildly on end, if it weren't for the fact his hair was already sticking straight upwards. He took a nervous step backwards when the heat became unpleasantly warm.
"Magick." The word startled the man, as it seemed to come from a voice that was too deep and far too loud, a voice that definitely wasn't Harry's. At once the jewel lost its light and the feeling of power left, until moments later a blazing star exploded into existence in front of them.
Even shutting his eyes and turning around didn't stop him seeing the star, as if it was now permanently stuck to the inside of his eyelids. Unwillingly, Lockhart found himself counting the points of the star, eventually ending up with 59 points.
"It's safe to look now." Harry said, sounding incredibly exhausted. Tentatively opening his eyes and turning around, he was relieved to see all of the symbols had started to fade, with the star being the last to disappear.
"What was that for?" He asked grumpily, having gotten over his panic and settling on anger.
"Think of it like a mobile proximity ward. It'll tell me if anything magical and dangerous will hit us, hopefully giving us time to avoid it."
Gilderoy was going to ask where he had learned such a spell, but was interrupted by Tonks.
"Right, lets go!" Tonks said impatiently, finally ushering the two out. The moment he left the safety of the tent he was assaulted by sound and heat. There were people running everywhere, screaming and panicking.
The most alarming thing were the spells flying in all directions, including a scarily familiar yellow spell that was made of mist. He had still been in Hogwarts during the war and hadn't taken part in any of the fight, despite that he still recognised the Imperius Curse.
To his great alarm, he could only watch as another Imperius flew from the darkness and struck a witch in front of them, who instantly turned around and started to attack them. He was frozen in fear and would've died if Harry hadn't raised a pebble to intercept the blinding green light of the Killing Curse.
By the time his vision returned, Tonks had already stupefied the witch. Harry gently reached out and grabbed ahold of his arm, pulling him with them as they moved onwards.
He didn't know if the shock was leaving him, or if he was starting to get desensitized to the horror, but Gilderoy started to regain control over his senses. The next time a wand was raised against them he was already launching his own spell, unknowing if it hit friend or foe.
Suddenly he felt Harry's hand upon his head, forcing him into an awkward bow. He was moments away from complaining when another Imperius Curse passed through the space his head had previously inhabited. He wasn't given time to freeze as he was pushed onwards, moving steadily towards the forest as a group.
From the corner of his eye he saw a jet of dark purple fire flying towards him, moving so fast he knew he didn't stand a chance raising a shield. Fortunately, Harry had already raised a pearly green shield, which absorbed the fire effortlessly.
It was with a sense of pride that he recognised the shield, having taught Harry how to cast it years ago. His pride managed to dispel his remaining fear, having remembered he also now possessed a large repertoire of spells.
"Wait!" Harry said suddenly, making Gilderoy jump in panic. "There's somebody over there." He pointed his gauntlet at an abandoned cart, which started to glow faintly.
Tonks nodded in confirmation and made her way over, gently lifting it with her magic to reveal two teenage boys hidden in a hollow underneath. One was an ashen faced blond who was bravely pointing his trembling wand at Tonks, while the other was an unconscious, slightly pudgy with a short dark haired.
"Draco, for merlin's sake don't attack us!" Harry snapped, drawing the blonde's attention.
"Po… Potter?" The boy asked faintly, fear making his voice tremble.
"Yes, it's me you idiot. Can you move? Cause we can't stay here!"
"I can… but Crabbe… I think his leg's broken and he won't wake up."
Harry made a 'come here' gesture with his gauntlet, which somehow managed to pull Draco right out of the hole and placed him on his feet in front of them. Meanwhile, Tonks had jumped down into the newly created space and began running her wand over Crabbe.
Seeing the cart wobble in the air, Gilderoy lifted his own wand and applied his own levitation charm, gently sending it down beside them.
"He got by a living nightmare curse, he won't wake without the right potions, but he's in no immediate danger. I've fixed his leg as best as I can, but it will need a healer." Tonks said after a moment, lifting the boy with another charm and handing him to Harry.
The boy bent over Crabbe and placed his hands on the boy's chest, pulling back a moment later. For just a fraction of a second Gilderoy thought he caught the flash of something silver, before it vanished.
Then, wordlessly, Harry knelt down and lifted Crabbe effortlessly onto his shoulder in a fireman's hold. Nodding towards the forest, Harry and Tonks carried onwards, trusting Draco and Gilderoy to catch up.
As they walked, Gilderoy noticed the Draco boy looking around anxiously, clutching his wand tightly and trembling like a leaf. "Don't worry Harry and Tonks won't let us get hurt," He said comfortingly, smiling down at the boy. "… And I've been in far worse spots and came out alive!" Unfortunately for Gilderoy, this wasn't actually a lie, he considered his own fight against Voldemort far worse.
The boy smiled back weakly, surreptitiously moving to get closer to the Auror. Despite his words of comfort, Gilderoy was extremely relieved that they had moved out of the danger zone. He hadn't seen a curse pass for a while and even the screams had become quieter, although that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Finally, they reached the presumed safety of the forest, almost immediately getting lost in the dark. He could only just make out Harry, his gauntlet giving off a faint green light. Luckily, it seemed both Harry and Tonks could see in the dark, since as far as he could see the path in front was pitch black.
Soon enough, they stopped in a clearing, far outside the campsite wards.
"Gilderoy, I need you to take Crabbe to St. Mungos, then return here to take Draco. I'll wait here until you return, then I'll take Harry to… his home, I recommend you join us."
Nodding, he took the still sleeping Crabbe, relieved to find he only weighed half as much as he should've. Apparating to St. Mungos took only a moment, handing over the unconscious boy to the gobsmacked mediwitch. He popped back to the clearing, grabbing Draco and appareted back. Exhausted, he finally appareted to Dumbledore's cottage, feeling the wards part to grant him entrance.
He quickly collapsed into a nearby chair, falling asleep almost immediately from the adrenaline leaving his system, lack of sleep and the backlash for apparating numerous times in quick succession.
I had a guest review for last chapter, basically saying "If people [the circus performers] are this powerful, why weren't they involved in the war and why did Voldemort not face as much opposition"
Well, to start with the Circus is from Sweden, which means the performers weren't affected by Voldemort's war. Secondly, they are the magical equivalent of actors / stage magicians, which while impressive are completely useless in a war. Plus I imagine it takes a certain mindset to consciously decide to defy Voldemort, especially when you know you could be placing family and friends in danger by doing so.
(A very long "Things I explain" today, mostly because this was a fairly large chapter. The majority of these will be explained better in the next chapter, whereupon they will be removed from this chapter.)
Things I think need explaining:
- Hypnokinesis: Hypnos, greek god of sleep - kinesis, control of. These are definitely not 100% accurate, but I am stealing the words from the Riordan Fandom Wiki (Percy Jackson wiki)
- Tom Riddle was unable to establish a link beforehand because most protective wards prevent that sort of external divination, while the campsite had very basic wards to stop apparition and muggles.
- Ollivander's doorway: For those familiar with Howl's Moving Castle, you should recognise it.
- The arcane spell Harry used during the riot is basically just an expansion on his own mage sight, in that it allows Harry to see where spells will be coming from and their path moments before it happens. Technically, it would be divination magic. The issue with it is that it takes a while to set up (Lockhart walked in on Harry halfway through the spell) and the amount of magic needed, which is admittedly something Harry doesn't have to worry about. It is not infallible and anyone with any level of mage sight would be able to 'piggyback' off the spell, meaning in a duel both opponents would see spell paths.
- Draco and Crabbe: Literally over a year ago real time, you may remember a chapter called "Good tidings", where Draco lost all status in Slytherin House and Crabbe and Goyle deserted him. Then later only Draco and Crabbe stayed during the year 2 christmas. Off-screen, Draco managed to convince Crabbe to become his friend again over that Christmas, except now they are more equal then in canon. Then, Draco invited Crabbe to the match with him, which is why they were together when they got hit.
- Draco, part II: In canon, Draco meets Ron, Harry and Hermione in the forest and gloats. To me, this is mainly because he thinks he is safe and he has always held some level of power over the other students. In this story, Draco got to watch as Crabbe got hit by an unknown spell, then was incapable of doing anything more than hiding them both, plus he had lost all power previously.
- Lockhart doesn't remember Draco and Crabbe for 2 reasons, 1, it's dark and he's jumping between panic attacks and shock and 2, he wasn't a very good teacher, he didn't try very hard to remember people's faces.