Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Thank you all for your marauder name suggestions. Specifically, thank you anyeshabaner, Sarashina17, memepotter952504, Pizza9612, noir kumo, Jedialex93, Trickster32UE, and a wonderful Guest reviewer who supported my personal opinion that the Marauders are terrible at naming things (Seriously, Wormtail). Honestly, you all are better at naming things than the Marauders. The winner is...you'll just have to read to find out ;)
Harry experienced for the first time in his short life the let-down of returning to normal life after a vacation. Everything seemed much drearier and boring as Grimmauld Place became home once more. The Order members were around more often, so Harry also reluctantly spent almost all of his waking time wearing his glamour. With both Dumbledore and Moody's magical eye about, he had to keep it at its strongest constantly, which was just annoying. Luckily, neither one of them were well versed in dark mind magic which he was using to construct the glamour. The Order meetings were so boring that Harry was actually wondering why he had insisted on being included.
Tom's prank on the Dark Lord had worked better than he had even imagined as the evil man became obsessed with finding this non-existent book written by Salazar Slytherin in China. That meant that everyone was getting a welcomed reprieve from raids and murders over the summer. The Death Eater meetings were still sporadically happening between trips to auction houses in China though.
Severus flooed into an Order meeting a few days after one of these Death Eater meetings. He was now making reports to both Dumbledore and Sirius and Remus whenever anything happened. Harry could tell the man was stressed with all the extra reporting and hiding things from Dumbledore, but they just couldn't trust the old man's judgment anymore. "Ah, any news, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, when Severus elegantly sank down beside Bill Weasley and Tonks in the corner of the kitchen at Grimmauld.
"Nothing new, Albus," Snape said dismissively. "As I told you, the Dark Lord has instructed his Death Eaters to recruit this summer. After losing Narcissa, Bellatrix, Dolohov, Lucius, Fenrir, Nott, and Draco, not to mention Nagini, he's significantly behind in numbers."
"Are we sure the young Malfoy has actually defected?" Moody asked suspiciously, for the tenth time that summer.
"Draco had a difficult time at the beginning of the summer, but he's come a long way recently," Tonks spoke up with a narrowed brow at Moody, not liking his constant suspicion. "My mum and dad have been really good for him, especially my dad. He's taken Draco under his wing, so to speak, and has been teaching him all things muggle, whether the teen likes it or not," she chuckled at the end.
"Just make sure he doesn't overhear any sensitive information," Moody growled.
Tonks rolled her eyes but didn't say anything as Bill put a steadying hand on her arm. Harry raised an eyebrow at this. It was the most interesting thing that had happened at an Order meeting in a while. So…Tonks didn't like Moody much, and apparently did like Bill.
Snape also rolled his eyes, not liking being interrupted in a report. "Anyway, there will be a short marking ceremony in early August for a couple new Death Eaters that are Hogwarts students. And, no, I don't know which ones yet. If I'm allowed to attend, which I don't doubt I will be, I'll let you know who they are. There will be another marking ceremony in mid-September for those not of Hogwarts age. I fear I probably won't be invited to that one."
"Yes, do keep us updated, Severus," Dumbledore said efficiently as they moved on.
"Who will be teaching DADA next year?" McGonagall asked from where she was sitting next to Molly Weasley.
"Professor Shade has not abandoned his post," Snape raised an eyebrow at the Deputy Headmistress questioningly.
"Erm, well, how's he feeling then, dear?" Molly Weasley asked, a hint of concern and anxiety for the man she had only heard good things about in her tone. Harry still hadn't been alone with his sort-of adopted mother or Arthur yet, but they both looked at him with smiles and nods, so he was hopeful. Mr. Weasley kept giving him searching looks that made Harry a bit uncomfortable though. He hoped he would be able to talk with them at some point soon.
"He's fine, thank you for asking," Severus said, obviously doing his best to inject sincerity and not disdain into his tone to keep Harry happy who has glaring at him across the room.
"I thought the curse was supposedly just a myth," Harry piped in, doing his best to keep the amusement off his face.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, twinkle missing from his eyes. "Maybe we should take up this conversation once more as we get closer to the new term?"
They really do think I'm just going to die or run off, don't they? Tom laughed from where he had been spying on the meeting through Harry's eyes.
You have to admit, your curse did its job very effectively over the years. Harry agreed with the assessment.
True…I don't do things halfway. I always prided myself that if I did something, I would do it well. Unfortunately, I still believed that even when I was insane.
Keep quiet now, I don't want to miss anything.
They're talking about funding guards for the Hogwarts Express in September…I don't think you're missing much yet. Put me down for a 1,000 galleon donation if they need it. I think it's fitting for the Dark Lord to fund the operations intent on bringing him down.
You think the goblins might be up to guarding the train?
Only if you give them enough money…I guess you could put me down for a little more if they want to go that route.
Erm, sure, I'll suggest it. I don't think this lot will be too interested in contacting the goblins though. Harry said, thinking of what he knew about the prejudices of even the Order members.
Ah, but the goblins support you…
Sort of…they don't want me dead. I think they're with Ollivander in my support the most powerful player fan club.
Well, make the effort anyway. If they don't want them, they don't want them. Tom shrugged mentally.
Tom's donation eventually went to funding off-duty aurors to guard the Hogwarts Express in September, not to Severus's surprise at all. The "light" side really did need to work on their prejudice, not that Voldemort was any better, but the wizarding world was burning bridges left and right with how they looked at those who practiced dark magic and those labeled as "dark" creatures. What did surprise Severus was Tom's offer of funding, through Potter. He supposed it shouldn't, the man seemed to think it was his specific responsibility to get rid of his evil version. Snape just really hoped Tom and Potter…no Harry would find a solution to separate the two souls soon, because he worried his partner would decide that getting rid of himself would be the only way to get rid of the main soul piece.
The Order had quickly taken Tom (Evan) up on his offer of funds, even though they seemed suspicious as to where the man got his money, not being paid much as a professor and not having a pureblood last name, especially when he still refused to officially join the Order. Severus was just relieved that no one asked who Shade's heir was or he thought Po…Harry might not have been able to hold back his ire. Admittedly, the boy was a much better actor, strategist, and all around Slytherin than Severus felt comfortable giving him credit for.
Those were his musings as he sat in the potions lab at Spinner's End brewing the incredibly complex and expensive eye-correcting potion he had decided to make, why he had no idea, for Harry's birthday. He had told Harry that he couldn't do it, but that was because the ingredients were so hard to come by. He had eventually found the very rare (well, invisible really) Claritas Flower. He had to trade quite a bit of basilisk bone powder to get it, but it was finally brewing away in the cauldron in front of him.
Also on the list of things he had no clue why he was doing, he had a piece of parchment and quill he was jotting down ideas on. The Marauders (James Potter included after being summoned) were still trying to come up with what they called a marauder name for Harry. Severus had decided that if he didn't want his…whatever Harry was to him, to be named Deady, Wings, Flighty, or Skelly that he was going to have to help. He didn't care, in theory, but he couldn't have his…whatever, being called something stupid. It didn't reflect well on his partner or himself that someone so closely related to them (not that anyone really knew about this relationship right now because of the war) was called by a ridiculous horse or skeleton related name. A tone sounded as an alarm for Severus to add the next ingredients to the potion, so he pushed the parchment aside to think on later.
In contrast to the party the year before, Harry's birthday ended up just being a dinner with Sirius, Remus, Tom, Severus, Kreacher, Winky, Nagini, and Dobby. With things as they were with Ron and Hermione, Harry didn't really feel like tackling their conflict head-on just yet. Charlie couldn't get off work so soon after his medical leave, and Luna was not even on the continent at the time. It was a very nice and relaxing dinner though. Honestly, it was just what Harry wanted for his seventeenth birthday. He just wanted to be surrounded with his family.
Sirius and Remus got him the traditional wizard's watch for his coming-of-age birthday. Winky and Kreacher went all out cooking all his favorite foods as a present. Dobby bought him a paintball gun and offered a position on the elves team for the paintball league the elf was putting together. Harry gratefully accepted since he was positive the elves would wipe the floor with Sirius's team. And everyone gasped in shock at Severus's gift of the eye-correcting potion. Harry immediately downed the potion and removed his glasses in shock.
Severus couldn't dodge the bear-hug the young necromancer wrapped him in. "Thank you so so so much!" Harry almost hyperventilated in his excitement and appreciation while he looked at a world that was clearer than he had ever seen it before.
Severus awkwardly patted him on the back. "Don't mention it," he said, close to being a demand.
"That's a really nice gift, Severus," Remus smiled at him in appreciation.
"Yeah, Snape, thank you," Sirius responded without even any hint of sarcasm.
"That's my man, all warm and squishy at heart," Tom said as he ignored Snape's scowl to hand Harry an envelope.
Harry quickly gave Snape a peck on his cheek before moving away to avoid the swatting hand that aimed for his head. Laughing, he tore open the envelop from his Dad and pulled out two tickets. "What are these for?" He asked in confusion as the tickets were solid black and blank besides a white "Admit One" on each ticket.
"Those are tickets to the Dark Carnival," Tom gave him an excited smile. "I had to pull a lot of strings for those two since Voldemort was never welcome."
Snape and Sirius gave the man gob smacked expressions while Remus and Harry just looked confused. "Kreacher is impressed the dark wizard got tickets to the great carnival," Kreacher responded in awe. "Little Master will have a wonderful time."
"How in Salazar's name did you get Dark Carnival tickets?!" Snape exclaimed.
"Actually, that's from me and Charlie," Tom smiled. "His friend, Cristian, in Romania had the connections. I supplied the funds and the persuasion to convince them to let you in. Cristian was a major help though as a regular attender of the carnival."
"Erm, and what is this carnival?" Harry asked, staring at the tickets like they would reveal their secrets.
"It's an invite-only event that happens every Saturday evening from August through December," Tom began to explain. "Dark magic practitioners and creatures gather to discuss their work, sell wares, and learn from each other. I hear it's quite the experience. I was never allowed in though as they're very strict about safety, and only dark practitioners that use their magic for the betterment of society are accepted. You have to have someone sponsor you and agree to be responsible for your behavior to get in. Cristian has taken that on himself."
"Wow," Harry breathed as he, and now Remus as well, stared at the tickets.
"The tickets serve as portkeys to wherever the carnival is being held that particular Saturday," Tom smiled at the excitement of his son. "If you behave yourself and prove yourself, the tickets will change into a permanent portkey after your first carnival. The second ticket is for whoever, not me though. I'm still not welcome," Tom said with an eyeroll at the end. "Just make sure to get in touch with Cristian to go with him whenever you decide to attend."
"You know your godfather loves you dearly," Sirius smiled and leaned against Harry, giving him puppy-dog eyes.
"Save it mutt, why would you be interested in a dark carnival?" Snape threw a pillow from the couch at the animagus. "Now, there are some really interesting potion ingredients that are sold almost exclusively there."
"Wow," was all Harry was still able to get out as he stared at the tickets, ignoring both men's pleas.
"You know…Skelly, it might be fun…" Sirius prodded him again.
Harry and Tom both winced at the name. "I don't think Skelly is catching on, Pads," Remus laughed.
"Chaos," Snape interjected to everyone's confusion. "He should be called Chaos."
"Sev, I'm not the Weasley twins you know," Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Love, you broke into the ministry twice and set loose inferi on a group of Death Eaters," Tom laughed. "Even the Weasley twins haven't done that, not to mention all the other things you've done that I'll refrain from mentioning since you've had a good run not being grounded this break."
Snape looked like he really did want to hear that list of things Harry had done, but let it go. "Chaos refers to the void where life was brought forth from, like what you do when you cross into the gray realm. It also is an element associated with the first step in making a philosopher's stone, which you saved in your first year. Lastly, you have sent all our lives into chaos since you joined them…which I'm not actually saying is a bad thing."
"It's better than Skelly," Tom smirked at Sirius who was pouting.
Harry thought for a minute. "I think I like it…I really like that it was the beginning of life, and that's really cool about the stone. Yeah…I can live with it."
"Chaos," Remus tried it out. "I like it too."
"Come on Moony, we can't let Snape name a marauder," Sirius continued to pout.
"He's an honorary member, Padfoot," Remus disagreed.
"Merlin forbid!" Snape protested vehemently. "I just don't want my…whatever to be named something stupid!"
"Stepson," Harry offered.
"I'm for it," Tom smiled.
"We're not married," Snape glowered at him.
Tom shrugged. "When I'm only one person, I'm planning to ask, so prepare yourself."
"You've been warned," Harry laughed and hugged the sneering man again. "You've made the approved hug list, just so you know."
"I was perfectly fine not being on the list," Snape said with a long-suffering sigh.
Sirius and Remus had left for a meeting at Gringotts and Tom and Severus were visiting Slytherin Castle to oversee repairs in early August. Harry was frantically working on his homework since he had put it off until almost last minute, according to him and Hermione's philosophies anyway, not Ron or Sirius. With the way the Order had made his house their home as well, Harry thankfully had his glamour up when Dumbledore joined him in the library where he had been writing his Herbology essay. "Ah, Harry, my boy, would you care to join me in the sitting room for a little chat?" Dumbledore asked, startling Harry out of his concentration.
"Headmaster? Er, sure," Harry said, leaving his essay on the table as he followed the man down the stairs.
Harry joined Dumbledore in the sitting room. He felt more than saw Moody standing in the corner observing them. "Tea?" Dumbledore asked after summoning a tea service (from where Harry wasn't sure). He immediately poured a cup before Harry answered. The young necromancer looked at the tea suspiciously. It was laced with something. As trained by his dad, he never ate or drank anything without checking it first with a wandless, nonverbal spell that informed him of harmful additives. Something was definitely in this tea. It seemed like some kind of calming drug, but he couldn't tell from the spell how much of it was in the cup. It could be enough to calm his nerves or knock him out. Regardless, there was no way he was drinking that tea.
"No thank you, Headmaster. I'm not really in the tea mood right now," Harry said as kindly as he could muster. He quickly checked, but Tom had closed the Occlumency door some time before. He resolved to force it open if needed, but he didn't feel unsafe just yet with the headmaster and Moody.
Harry stared at the man, Occlumency shields at full strength to keep out any prying into his mind, just studying the headmaster in front of him. Not for the first time, Harry wished it were possible to jump the eighth level of Necromancy to start in on the ninth. The ninth level was mind magic where the Necromancer could fully take over someone's consciousness. While it could be used unethically, its purpose was to help in healing mental illness and/or trauma. Harry couldn't figure out how much of Dumbledore's actions and thought processes were impacted by his dementia. He understood the pull to not seek out help but was extremely worried that this was negatively impacting the war and the lives of his family. That was unacceptable. It was just that problematic eighth level with its high probability of turning him into a mindless soul-sucking monster, and well…there weren't that many situations where pulling out a living person's soul was ethical. Stupid eighth level!
"Harry," Dumbledore started again, looking a little upset about the tea. "I think it's time we talk more about your place in this war."
"You mean the prophesy?" Harry questioned, interested that they were actually discussing this.
Dumbledore looked very surprised. "How did you learn of the prophesy?"
Harry shrugged. "Voldemort wanted it so badly my fifth year that I figured it would be a good idea to see what it was, so I watched it at the ministry. Frankly, it was a little anti-climactic. I mean, he messed with my dreams trying to get me to take it all year, and the prophesy basically boiled down to 'he did this to himself' and 'I have to kill him, or he'll kill me.' The second part I'd already figured out for myself."
Dumbledore glanced over Harry's head to where he assumed Moody must be standing. "Well, that makes this a little easier then," the headmaster concluded. "I'm talking to you about this now because I won't always be here to lead you and I need you to be ready to face Voldemort when the time comes. I'm positive there are artifacts he has used to keep himself alive, but I haven't found them all…"
More like any. Harry snorted to himself. Dismissing the white lie, Harry was hopeful the ill man was actually reaching out for help. It seemed his mortality, or at least his mental health, was actually starting to concern him.
"I need you to be ready to take up the responsibility," Dumbledore concluded.
"Of course, Headmaster," Harry smiled at him. "I am a member of the Order now and of-age."
"I think you misunderstand me, my boy," Dumbledore looked a little scary as he leaned forward and studied Harry intently. "I want you to go into training. You aren't ready, and you're soft from your time living here with Sirius and Remus."
Harry raised an eyebrow incredulously. He had aced his OWLs, finished a mastery, bankrupted Voldemort, been influential in sending several Death Eaters to prison, absorbed the last of the horcruxes, become an animagus, and saved several Order members' lives since he'd moved in with his dogfathers. Not that Dumbledore knew that, but he was still offended for himself and for Sirius and Remus. "I don't know how you've reached that conclusion, sir…but I can assure you that you're mistaken," Harry said, a dangerous edge to his voice.
"You have too many connections and emotional liabilities now that you didn't have before," Dumbledore continued with his frown and non-twinkling eyes.
"Didn't you say my first year that my greatest power was love?" Harry raised an eyebrow, a look on his face showing just what he thought of that statement.
"This isn't a discussion," Dumbledore said sternly. "You will go into training, and you will not return to Hogwarts until Alastor determines you've finished your training."
"I beg to differ," Harry almost sneered, losing all respect for the man in front of him. He refused to let the old meddler send him somewhere else he didn't want to go, because that worked out so well the first time.
Not breaking eye contact, Dumbledore casually flicked his wand out of the corner of Harry's eye. Harry threw up a quick protego, but the shield wasn't strong enough to stop whatever it was that the man sent his way. Instantly regretting not using a soul-shield, Harry evaluated what had happened. He felt fine, nothing looked different…but the tea was missing in his cup.
The headmaster had spelled the tea into his system. Almost instantly, Harry's head went fuzzy. He frantically reached for the Occlumency door, but he seemed to be mentally swimming through sand and completely unable to reach it. "You drugged me," Harry accused, having flashbacks to the graveyard his fourth year when he was poisoned with acromantula venom and not able to fight at his full strength.
"All for the greater good, my boy," Dumbledore smiled sadly at him before a lazy, "Stupify," sending Harry into darkness.
Harry felt like he was underwater, breathing through gillyweed again, as he slowly regained consciousness. His head pounded, and he pushed the pain behind his, now weak, Occlumency shields. Analyzing the situation, Harry was furious as he found his hands bound behind his back. More concerning, was the weight of the wards that were woven through wherever he was being held. Wards weren't supposed to be able to be felt. If you could feel wards, they were unnecessarily strong and very unpleasant as they felt heavy and oppressive.
"Ah, welcome back, Mr. Potter," Harry heard Moody growl from the corner of the room.
"Where are we?" Harry asked through a mouth that felt like he had eaten cotton.
"Not of your concern," Moody stood, twirling Harry's wand in his hands.
Harry narrowed his eyes. The retired auror didn't know Harry could do wandless magic. Quickly, Harry touched his ring with his thumb and called for help in his mind, but he wasn't hopeful the message would get through the oppressive wards. He also still couldn't reach the Occlumency door through the fuzziness in his mind. He didn't want to give up on help, but he was fairly positive he was on his own now and would have to wandlessly get himself out of the bonds. Slowly working his hands around in the very tight bonds, he refocused on Moody to distract him.
"I assume you're supposed to 'train' me?" Harry sneered angrily. "What does this 'training' entail?"
"Dumbledore believes you're too soft, and you are. A little pampered prince like you won't stand a chance against the Dark Lord," Moody stood over him in a threatening stance. "My job is to toughen you up. Neither of us may like it, but you have to be able to deal with pain and think past it."
Harry almost laughed at this, but he let the man continue without showing his thoughts on his face. "You also need to learn some dark magic. You will be placed in pain constantly and tasked to think, cast, and strategize through it. You will learn to use dark as well as light magic defensively and, more importantly, offensively. I have little faith in your abilities, but Dumbledore assured me you're our only hope in ending this war."
At this, Harry did break down laughing. It was just too hilarious! Harry saw it coming and wasn't able to brace himself, not that it would have helped, but Moody's hand raised and smacked with a sickening crunch across Harry's face. "Quiet!" Moody demanded. "Your training starts now!"
Harry laughed once again. Moody's hits weren't nearly as hard as Vernon's. The difference being that Harry suspected Moody didn't actually want to hurt him. "What makes you think you're qualified to teach me?" Harry continued chuckling, the laughter taking on a darker turn though. "You weren't even my professor fourth year. What makes you think you know a single thing about me?"
"Boy!" Moody yelled, causing Harry to force himself from heading into a flashback of his time at the Dursleys. It was not time to break down. Moody landed another blow across Harry's face. "You will show me the respect of an auror and a soldier."
Harry spit blood out of his mouth from where he had bit his tongue at the last blow. He almost had his hands worked around enough to cast a spell on the ropes. He really wasn't looking forward to seeing the state of his wrists later; he was certain the skin had been rubbed off based on the slick feel that was helping him maneuver his hands better. "Oh please," he gave another laugh. "You know nothing of pain! As for dark magic, you can't even see through my dark magic glamour with your magical eye!"
Moody stilled his hand he had raised again at Harry's laughter. "Glamour?" He was confused. Was the boy mad? Dumbledore hadn't said anything about him being delusional.
Harry focused his magic for a second, dispelling the glamour from this face. Red eyes with silver necromancer studs looked up disgustedly at the grizzled auror. "As I said Moody, you aren't even qualified to teach me of pain or dark magic. I would love to give you a few lessons though," Harry gave him his best crazy Voldemort look that he'd perfected from his dad being in his mind.
"Necromancer," Moody breathed out with almost a touch of fear. "Who are you?"
Harry rolled his red eyes, just one more second, his hands were almost there. "Harry James Riddle-Potter," Harry responded with a smirk as Moody visibly jumped. "Chill Moody, I'm on your side, though kidnapping and smacking me around isn't a good way to keep me on your side."
"Riddle?" Moody didn't seem to be able to get over his shock.
"Right of conquest," Harry sighed, not wanting to explain his dad. "Who do you think bankrupted Voldemort?"
"You?" The man seemed stuck at one-word responses.
Harry's hands were now facing out and he cast a nonverbal, wandless, and as low of a level as possible, slicing hex at the ropes. The necromancer held back any reaction as his hex also took a slice out of his wrist. He felt the cut on the side though, so he was fairly certain he wouldn't bleed out…hopefully. The ropes fell away, freeing his hands.
"Moody, you know one of the main hallmarks of a Necromancer?" Harry asked, keeping his hands behind his back.
"Pain," Moody answered, seeming to try to figure out his next move and finding himself at a loss. He hadn't expected to be confronted with someone that was more knowledgeable in dark magic than an auror.
Harry laughed. "Yes, but what I meant was…wandless magic." Harry raised his hand and blasted the auror against the wall, following that with a stupefy.
"This is so inconvenient," Harry grumbled as he felt that his nose was probably broken and he checked out his bleeding wrists.
Harry stood over the auror wondering what in the world he was going to do with the man. He couldn't let him report back to Dumbledore. Well…it worked after the troll, he thought wryly as he raised his hand. "Obliviate!" He cast and pulled all memories since the time they were all in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place.
Harry forced himself to focus, he had to work through his fuzzy thoughts. "You're retired and need a break, probably a nice long vacation," Harry instructed him. "You took Harry Potter, but you handed him off to another auror to train, one that you trust." Harry was really hoping Moody trusted someone. "Harry Potter will be trained and sent back to Hogwarts when he's ready to face Voldemort. You are sure of this."
Finally, he grabbed his wand from the floor, sparing the man one more disgusted look. Knowing Moody wake up on his own at some point, he had no clue how the old auror would explain his lack of memories and his position on the floor of the room, but he really couldn't care. He had no memories of what had happened with Harry, that was all he cared about. Best case scenario, Moody really would decide to go on a vacation.
Stumbling outside, Harry squinted in the bright sunlight. He was surprised to find himself standing in front of a rundown warehouse. He didn't recognize anything around him. Apparition was definitely out. The teen didn't trust his senses enough to apparate and not splinch himself in the state he was in. He'd take the Knight Bus, but his arms were bleeding, and he looked a mess. In a weird, drugged state, he had already cast a lot of magic; it probably wasn't a good idea to cast any more if at all possible, especially since he didn't know what he was drugged with, so he figured the healing spells should be a last resort.
"Kreacher?!" He finally called out questioningly. He wasn't sure if this was in his house elf's job description.
Kreacher appeared with a loud crack in front of him. "How can Kreacher serve…" the house elf stopped in the middle of his sentence as he took in Harry's appearance. A second later and the elf's tiny arms were wrapped around his legs and his face was buried in Harry's stomach. "Little Master! You's be injured. Are you's ok?! We's were told you ran off to train. That you wanted to go! Kreacher did not believe it one second though, Little Master. Kreacher knows you's would never leaves your Kreacher nor you's Nagini, Bella, or Cissy."
Harry patted the elf's head with his less-bleeding hand. "I'm fine Kreacher. I'll be perfectly fine," he assured the frantic elf.
"Oh, Little Master, I's don't know what Kreacher would do without you!"
"Kreacher," Harry said, still patting the bald head. "Can you take me home? Maybe to Spinner's End since the Order isn't there? I don't think I can apparate in my condition."
"Anywhere!" Kreacher said in sheer devotion as he turned on the spot, still hugging his master.
Harry almost collapsed on the little elf as they landed suddenly in the sitting room of Spinner's End. Harry blinked a couple times, taking in the sight in front of him. Sirius and Remus were standing by the fireplace with frantic looks on their faces while Tom and Severus seemed to be loading up potion vials and weapons into a bag. A distressed looking Fawkes was flying around everyone as Nagini hissed angrily from the couch. "Is this the rescue party?" Was the only thing Harry could think to ask as they all turned as one to look at the Necromancer that still had a house elf attached to his waist.
Sirius strode forward with his wand raised. Harry flinched back, not able to hold in his reactions any longer. "What's my godson's marauder name?" He asked seriously.
Harry breathed out a long breath. They were just checking he was who he looked like. "Chaos because Sev thinks I've overrun his life, or something like that. Really, anything but Bony or Skelly."
"Oh Harry!" Tom rushed over and pulled both teen and house elf into a hug, joined by everyone else in the room, Snape even put a hand on his shoulder. "What in the founders' names happened to your face?! Why're you bleeding?!"
::Who am I going to kill? Someone shrink me down! The flaming chicken will take me!:: Nagini hissed from the floor. Surprisingly, the flaming chicken gave what could only be interpreted as a trill of agreement.
Harry ignored them all, just happy to be back with his family. He still couldn't think very clearly, but he knew, this is where he was supposed to be.
Up Next: Fawkes's master...
In case anyone ever wants to know, here are the levels of Necromancy as I have created them:
1. Inferi
2. Raise an animal
3. Summon spirit of one crossed over
4. Heal non-magical mortal injury
5. Return the soul of someone recently deceased (Full Necromancer mastery)
6. Return the mind of one still living
7. Create a body for a trapped soul
8. Banish soul of one still living (Danger warning)
9. Take over control of another's mind
10. Fully possess an animal
11. Fully possess a living human
12. Summon demon (Danger warning)
I came up with all of them, so I figured I'd at least write them all down somewhere.