Chapter Two - The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Haiden woke to George's loud, and very annoyed sounding, voice. "Mum says get up, your breakfast is in the kitchen, there are loads more doxies than she thought and she's found a nest of dead puffskeins under the sofa." And with his task done, George swiftly turned and left the room, allowing the door to shut louder than needed. Haiden sat up in his bed and looked at the closed door. George was always so irritable and snappy when he was forced away from Fred now a days.
"What the bloody hell's his problem?" Ron grumbled throwing off his blanket and getting up. Haiden slid out of bed as well as he began to get changed.
"He's just worried. From what I've heard, the stress of everything going on with Harry is making the pregnancy hard on Fred." Haiden said.
"You want to know what I think about all this?" Ron asked as the two of them left the room and began to head down stairs.
"I'm sure you'll tell me even if I don't." Haiden said throwing Ron a tight smile, he had heard Ron's thoughts on everything happening with harry and Fred almost everyday since Ron had found out. Ron was constantly gloating that he had been right about Harry to anyone who would listen, and Haiden was usually the only one that would half way listen to Ron without ending up trying to attack Ron knowing that Ron was wrong and that the truth would come out during Harry's trial. Ron also believed that Fred was an idiot to hide who the father was and he could lesson all the stress he was under by just either telling everyone who the father was or by just admitting that he had slept with so many people that he didn't know who the father was. Hermione claimed that it was quite clear who the father of Fred's baby was, if one just looked at all the clues.
As Haiden and Ron ate, Haiden tuned out Ron's daily complaints about the Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters, Hermione's attitude, all the cleaning his mother was forcing them to do since they found out the date of Harry's rapidly approaching court date, and about how it was unfair that they couldn't join in the Order meetings that were being held every night in the kitchen. Half an hour later, Haiden and Ron entered the drawing room with Ron still complaining. The drawing room was a long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls covered in dirty tapestries. The carpet exhaled little clouds of dust every time someone put their foot on it and the long, moss-green velvet curtains were buzzing as though swarming with invisible bees. It was around these that Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Ginny were grouped, all looking rather peculiar, as they had tied cloths over their noses and mouths. Each of them were also holding a large bottle of black liquid with a nozzle at the end.
"Cover your faces and take a spray." Mrs. Weasley said to Haiden and Ron the moment she saw them, pointing to two more bottles of black liquid standing on a spindle-legged table. "It's doxycide." Mrs. Weasley began to explain as Hermione quickly sat down her bottle to hurry over to Haiden to help him tie his cloth over his nose and mouth. "I've never seen an infestation this bad - What that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years -" Haiden heard Hermione huff in annoyance and grunted when she tied the cloth too tight in her annoyance with Mrs. Weasley.
"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage-" Hermione started.
"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione." Sirius said entering the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats. "I've just been feeding Buckbeak." He added in reply to Haiden's inquiring look. "I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom. anyway... this writing desk..." he dropped the bag of rats onto an armchair, then bent over to examine the locked cabinet which, Haiden now noticed for the first time, was shaking slightly, "well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a boggart," Sirius said peering through the keyhole, "but perhaps we ought to let Mad-Eye have a shifty at it before we let it out - knowing my mother it could be something much worse."
"Right you are, Sirius, I'll have him look at it the second he gets back-"
"Back from where?" Ron asked hoping to try and get any information about what had been talked about last night in the Order meeting. His mother gave him a reprimanding look that caused Ron to huff and glare at the ground. A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, followed at once by a cacophony of screams and wails from Walburga Black.
"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" Sirius growled out exasperated and hurried back out of the room. They heard him thundering down the stairs as Mrs. Black's screeches echoed up through the house once more: "Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth..."
"Close the door, please, Haiden." Mrs. Weasley said.
Haiden took as much time as he dared to close the drawing room door; he wanted to listen to what was going on downstairs, wanted to know if it was anymore news about Harry's upcoming trial. Sirius had obviously managed to shut the curtains over his mother's portrait because she had stopped screaming. He heard Sirius walking down the hall, then the clattering of the chain on the front door, and then a deep voice he recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt's, a bald black wizard that wore a single gold hoop in his ear, saying, "Hestia's just relieved me, so she's got Moody's cloak now, thought I'd leave a report for Dumbledore..." Feeling Mrs. Weasley's eyes on the back of his head, Haiden regretfully closed the drawing room door before rejoining the doxy party.
Mrs. Weasley was bending over to check the page on dixies in Gilderoy Lockheart's Guide To Household Pests, which was lying open on the sofa. "Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I rather nobody needed it." She straightened up, positioned herself squarely in front of the curtains, and beckoned them all forward. "When I say the word, start spraying immediately. They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket." She stepped carefully out of their line of fire and raised her own spray. "All right - squirt!"
Haiden had been spraying only a few seconds, all the while wondering if Harry would have done something different to get rid of the doxies, when a fully grown doxy came soaring out of a fold in the material, shiny beetlelike wings, whirring, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared, its fairylike body covered with thick black hair and its four tiny fists clenched with fury. Haiden caught it full in the face with a blast of doxycide; it froze in midair and fell, with a surprisingly loud thunk, onto the worn carpet below. Haiden picked it up and threw it in the bucket, anger began to raise inside him. Harry should be here with them de-doxying the curtains and worrying over Fred and just being allowed to be the kid he was. Haiden tossed another doxy into the bucket, harder than he should have.
~Don't Forget The Person I Once Was~
The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. It was past midday when Mrs. Weasley finally removed her protective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprang up again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the dead rats. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxies lay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowl of their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffing at and Loki was trying to pull one closer to him and out of the bowl.
"I think we'll tackle those after lunch." Mrs. Weasley pointed at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets standing on either side of the mantelpiece. They were crammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection of rusty daggers, claw, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with languages Haiden could not understand and knew that Harry would love to examine and, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what Haiden was quite sure was blood.
The clanging doorbell rang again. Everyone looked at Mrs. Weasley. "Stay here." She told them firmly, snatching up the bag of rats as Mrs. Blacks screeches started up again from down below. "I'll bring up some sandwiches." She left the room, closing the door carefully behind her. At once, everyone dashed over to the window to look down onto the doorstep. They could see the top of an unkempt gingery head and a stack of precariously balanced cauldrons.
"Mundungus!" Hermione said. "What's he brought all those cauldrons for?"
"Probably looking for a safe place to keep them." Haiden muttered as the front door opened; Mundungus heaved his cauldrons through it and disappeared form view.
"Blimey, mum won't like that..." Ginny said before she and Ron crossed to the door and stood beside it, listening intently. Mrs. Black's screaming had stopped again. "Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Ginny muttered, frowning with concentration. "Can't hear properly... d'you reckon we can risk the extendable ears?" The extendable ears were a product created by Fred, George, and Harry to help people listen in on conversations that were meant to be private. "I could sneak back to my room and get a pair -"
But at that precise moment there was an explosion of sound from downstairs that rendered extendable ears quite unnecessary. All of them could hear exactly what Mrs. Weasley was shouting at the top of her voice. "WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"
"I love hearing mum shouting at someone else." Ron said with a satisfied smirk on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice to permeate the room better. "It makes such a nice change."
"- COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-" They jumped when they heard a door above them slam and someone running down the steps.
"Shut up!" They heard George yell. "Fred is do any day now! He's already stressed and worried about Harry he doesn't need all this yelling stressing him out any more! Stop! I don't care to hear it, mother! You are the one that has been stressing him out the most here! Yes! Me and Fred are gay! Yes, he is pregnant and has been for months! No, you don't need to know who the father is! Yes, the father knows about the child and is doing everything in his power to help! That is all you need to know! And you, Mundungus, take those cauldrons else where!" With that said, everyone heard George stomp back up the stairs as Mrs. Black's voice rang after him.
Ginny made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before she could do so, a house-elf edged into the room. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of it large, batlike ears. It's eyes were bloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike.
The elf, Kreacher, took absolutely no notice of Haiden and the rest. Acting as though he could not see them, he shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, towards the far end of the room, muttering under his breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's. "...Smells like a drain and criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and Werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do..."
"Hello, Kreacher." Ginny said very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.
"Kreacher did not see Young Mistress." He said, turning around and bowing to Ginny. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly. "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."
"Sorry?" Ginny growled out. "Didn't catch that last bit."
"Kreacher said nothing." The elf, with a second bow to Ginny. Haiden hated this house-elf and his crazy muttering, and his constant degrading of everyone. The elf straightened up, eyeing them all very malevolently, and apparently convinced that they could not hear him as he continued to mutter. "... And there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as bras, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry."
"Don't call her a Mudblood!" Haiden growled out at the elf and made to grab the elf, his magic raising at his anger.
"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered grabbing his arm, stopping him, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's-"
"And here I thought you were smart, Hermione." Ginny hissed glaring at her, "he knows exactly what he's saying."
"What do you want, Kreacher?" Haiden asked, Kreacher's huge eyes darted to him.
"Kreacher is cleaning." He said evasively.
"A likely story." A voice said from behind Haiden. Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; they must have once again closed Mrs. Black's curtains. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. "Stand up straight." Sirius ordered impatiently. "Now, what are you up to?"
"Kreacher is cleaning." The elf repeated. "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black -"
"- And it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy." Sirius growled.
"Master always liked his little joke," Kreacher said, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart -"
"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher." Sirius snapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite." Kreacher bowed again.
"What ever Master says," he said before muttering furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was-"
"I asked you what you were up to." Sirius said coldly, his eyes glaring dangerously at the elf. "Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off into your room so we can't throw it out."
"Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house," the elf said, then muttered very fast, "Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitor and the brats destroy it -"
"I thought it might be that," Sirius said, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. "She'll have put another permanent sticking charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will." Sirius glared at the elf. "Now go away, Kreacher." He ordered. It seemed that Kreacher did not dare (or was it that he could not) disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was redolent of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room.
"-comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too -"
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" Sirius growled irritably, and he slammed the door on the elf.
"Sirius, he's not right in the head," Hermione pleaded, "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."
"He's been alone too long," Sirius told her, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always a foul little-"
"If you just set him free," she said hopefully, "maybe-"
"We can't set him free, he knows too much about the Order," Sirius told her curtly. "And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leave this house, see how he takes it." A tense silence fell over them with Haiden watching Hermione as she glared at the floor, biting her lip hard enough that it looked painful, and gripping the sides of her jeans so tight that her knuckles here white. Haiden, feeling hopeless, reached out and gently laid his hand on one of her hands, she looked up at him in shock and he gave her a soft smile. She gave him a tight smile and released her jeans to grip his hand.
Haiden looked back at Sirius to find that he had walked across the room, where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. Haiden and the others followed him. The tapestry looked immensely old; it was faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed it in places; nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dated back (as far as Haiden could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
"Toujours Pur"
"You're not on here!" Haiden cried after scanning the bottom of the tree.
"I used to be there." Sirius told him, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after i ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath."
"You ran away from home?" Hermione asked in shock.
"When I was about sixteen." Sirius said, his eyes darkening with memories. "I'd had enough."
"Where did you go?" Haiden asked trying to read his face.
"Your dad's place." Sirius told him with a small smile as his eyes lit up a little. "Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place for me and..." his eyes darkened again at what ever memory had appeared. "I got a place of my own, my Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why - anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcomed at Mr. and Mrs. Potter's for Sunday lunch, though."
"But... Why did you..." Hermione started, it was clear to Haiden that she couldn't fathom leaving her parents for any reason.
"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal . . . My idiot brother, soft enough to believe them . . . That's him." Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name Regulus Black. A death date (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth. "He was younger than me," Sirius said, "and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded."
"But he died." Haiden said.
"Yeah." Sirius said obviously trying to hide the pain in his voice. "Stupid idiot . . . he joined the Death Eaters."
"You're kidding!" Hermione cried out with a gasp.
"Come on, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?" Sirius snapped out.
"Were- were your parents Death Eaters as well?" Ginny asked in a small voice.
"No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the Wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having purebloods in charge. They weren't alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought that he had the right idea about things. . . . They got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first."
"Was he killed by an Auror?" Haiden asked tentatively.
"Oh no." Sirius said with a humorless laugh. "No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime service or death."
"Lunch." Mrs. Weasley called out in a guarded tone. Everyone turned around to see that she was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. The others moved over to her, eager for some food, Hermione pausing halfway to look back at Haiden when she noticed that he hadn't moved. Haiden remained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry, eyes slightly unfocused.
"I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellus . . . my great-great-grandfather, see? Least popular headmaster Hogwarts ever had . . . and Arminta Meliflua . . . cousin of my mother's . . . tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal . . . and dear Aunt Elladora . . . she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays . . . of course, anytime the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her - he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him . . ."
"You and Tonks are related?" Haiden asked, surprised that the spunky young woman that could change her features at will was related to Sirius.
"Oh yeah," Sirius said with a laugh, "her mother, Andromeda, was my favorite cousin." He examined the tapestry carefully. "No, Andromeda's not on here either, look -" He pointed to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa. Haiden blinked at the name Narcissa, wasn't that the name of Draco's mother? "Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so-" Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly. Haiden, however, did not laugh; he was too busy staring at the names to the right of Andromeda's burn mark. A double line of gold embroidery linked Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy and a single vertical gold line from their names led to the name Draco.
"You're related to Draco and his family?" Haiden asked. If that was true, then why hadn't Draco visited them? Could the Order Members not trust Draco because of the fact that Lucius is a Death Eater? But couldn't they see that Draco would never do anything to harm Harry?
"The pure-blood families are all interrelated." Sirius informed him. "If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited, there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's not point looking for them on here - if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weasleys." But Haiden was now looking at the name to the left of Andromeda's burn: Bellatrix Black, which was connected by a double line to Rodolphus Lestrange.
"Lestrange . . ." Haiden read aloud. That name sounded familiar, he knew it from somewhere, but in that moment he couldn't think where, though it gave him an odd, creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach.
"They're in Azkaban." Sirius said shortly. Haiden looked at him curiously.
"Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch Junior." Sirius said in the same brusque voice. "Rodolphus's brother Rabastan, was with them too." And Haiden remembered: He had seen Bellatrix Lestrange inside Dumbledore's Pensive, the strange device in which thoughts and memories could be stored: a tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort, her pride that she had tried to find him after his downfall and her conviction that she would one day be rewarded for her loyalty.
"You never said she was your-"
"Does it matter if she's my cousin?" Sirius snapped. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming in to Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having relatives like her?"
"Sorry," Haiden said quickly, "I didn't mean - I was just surprised, that's all -"
"It doesn't matter, don't apologize." Sirius mumbled at once. He turned away from the tapestry, his hands deep in his pockets. I don't like being back here." He said, staring across the drawing room. "I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again." Haiden understood completely. He knew how he would feel if forced, when he was grown up and thought he was free of the place forever, to return and live at Number Four, Private Drive. "It's idea for Headquarters, of course." Sirius said. "My father put every security measure known to Wizard-kind on it when he lived here. It's Unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call - as if they'd have wanted to - and now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore's Secret-Keeper for the Order, you know - nobody can find the Headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is." He gave a short, barklike laugh. "If my parents could see the use it was being put to now . . . well, my mother's portrait should give you some idea. . ." He scowled for a moment, then sighed.
"I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you to your brother's hearing - as Snuffles, obviously - so I can give you and Harry a bit of moral support, what d'you think?" Haiden didn't know what to feel, on one had he was happy to have more people there to support Harry, but on the other hand he knew how Harry felt about Sirius in his Animagus form, not only, but Haiden knew Sirius was still a wanted man. He stared at Hermione, who had realized he was still talking with Sirius, and the Weasley's in the room, all tucking into their sandwiches. The fear that he had been denying hit him hard then. What if Lucius couldn't clear Harry's name, even with all the evidence proving him innocent? What if everyone was just too afraid of Harry's power that they decided to lock him away in Azkaban forever?
"Don't worry." Sirius said, wrapping his arm around Haiden's shoulder. "I'm positive that Malfoy will clear his name. I might not like the man, but even I have to admit that once that man gets something in his mind, he will find away to see it happen."
"What'll happen to Harry if they expel Harry even after clearing his name?" Haiden asked, Sirius hummed at that question as he thought.
"Harry is a smart boy, clearly magically strong, I'm sure he'll be able to figure something. And, anyway, I'm sure that the young Malfoy would just push up his plan to marry Harry then." Sirius told him with a smirk.
"Wait, what?" Haiden asked.
"Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left!" Mrs. Weasley called. Sirius heaved another great sigh, cast a dark look at the tapestry, and he and Haiden went to join the others with Haiden trying to get Sirius to explain what he meant about Draco's plan.
~Don't Forget The Person I Once Was~
Harry didn't know where he was, nor did he know how he got to where he was now. He brought his legs closer to his chest as his eyes continued to watch the shadow people all around him move about. They didn't seem to notice him, and for that Harry was thankful, because, whatever this place was, it kept him from using his magic.
"You're acting strange Harry." His brother's voice called to him. Harry closed his eyes and covered his ears. He knew, from experience, that whoever this person calling to him was not his brother. At least, not the brother he knew. "You've been sneaking out of the tower at night." Even through his closed eyes Harry saw his brother standing before him, arms crossed and a worried look in his eyes. " Don't try to lie to me, Ron's seen you and so has Hermione, Neville's even admitted to seeing you slip out of the dorm." He heard his brother sigh.
"Ginny's told Hermione that you've been distant recently. You haven't been paying attention to her, haven't taken her out on a date in months, you've stopped kissing her. Is everything alright between you two?" Harry curled up on himself as memories that weren't his filtered through his mind. This wasn't right! Everything was wrong! He wasn't a Gryffindor! He wasn't a mute! He wasn't dating Ginny! He didn't live in the school during the summer holidays, nor was he enduring torture under the guise of training from Albus.
"Has Malfoy been picking on you again? He hasn't tried to force you to do things with him again, has he? You know you can rely on me, Harry, you don't have to shoulder everything yourself. I'm here for you, Hermione's here for you, Ginny's here for you, your friends are here for you." Tears fell from his eyes as the image of his brother changed to a different one. This time Haiden looked a mess, his clothes were torn, his body was covered in slashes and bruises and his eyes desperate and full of loathing that Harry knew was directed at him.
"You could have saved her!" Haiden screamed at him, tears falling from his eyes. "You could have saved us both! Why did you leave her there! She was being tortured and raped and you just left her there!" Haiden backed away from his. "DON'T TOUCH ME! Ron was right about you! You are a monster! You don't care about anyone!" Haiden shook his head and covered his ears. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I WON'T BE TRICKED BY YOUR LIES ANYMORE! YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THE NIGHT OUR PARENTS DIED! THE WORLD WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF IF YOU WERE DEAD! HERMIONE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE! GINNY WOULD STILL BE ALIVE! THEY WOULD ALL STILL BE ALIVE! WHAT'S THE POINT IN SAVING THIS WORLD IF THEY'RE NOT HERE WITH ME!" Haiden turned and ran from him and the image of his brother changed once again. Now Haiden was laying in front of him with his wrist slit.
"This universe is unbalance with no way to fix it." A dark, dangerous voice floated around him as a man with long black hair and two unnaturally wide green eyes appeared in front of him, a crazed look in his eyes. "But I can change that, all you have to do is be my vessel." The man laughed and spun around the battlefield, jumping and dancing around all the dead bodies. "If you accept my deal, I'll help you save everyone you lost."
"Save them." He heard someone growl out.