Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil
Chapter Six: Captive Light
By: Harry's Mum Lily
Disclaimer: All previous disclaimers apply here. Thanks for all the reviews; you've all been just wonderful. Just to warn you…things get darker in this part. Hope you'll read it anyway. Reviews are welcome.
…because I'm never going over to the Dark Side!
Harry Potter
Chapter 16
Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort…
Albus Dumbledore
Chapter 37
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
He was cold, intensely cold and there was frigid water dripping on him. He tried to move his arms but found that they seemed to weigh more than they should have. He tried to move out of the path of the water but he couldn't seem to move his body either. There seemed to be something preventing him from moving. His scar was on fire and the left side of his face felt swollen and bruised. He kept his eyes closed, waiting for his mind to catch up to his body. In a rush, the memories of the past few hours returned to him and he opened his eyes. He was completely surrounded by darkness so profound and devoid of any hint of light. It was impossible for him to see anything. The room around him was dank, drafty and colder than any place he'd ever been in. His arms were bound over his head in heavy chains and the same kind of chains bound his legs together, yet Harry felt as if he were suspended in midair. Harry shivered and his eyes tried in vain to pierce the darkness around him. He closed them after a few moments of trying and felt hot tears sliding from under his closed eyelids, stinging his swollen cheek. He had never felt so afraid for his own life before. The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in now. He was a captive of Voldemort and would likely be tortured until he died.
"I don't want to die here, alone," Harry trembled and suddenly he understood what his parents must have felt before they were killed.
There was no sound, except his breathing and the faint rattle of the chains that held him when he moved. He was utterly alone and completely powerless. His wand and the protections it once offered him were now gone. A few more tears slipped down his cheeks as he watched in his mind's eye as Wormtail reduced his wand to splinters, the wand that had been a part of him since reentering the wizarding world. He had no idea where he was or even how long he'd been in this cell. He could hear his heart beating in the silence that surrounded him and he though he heard the sound of something slithering across the floor or was it the swish of a cloak. He wasn't sure. He tried to listen more closely but the thoughts swirling around in his head left little room for anything else. The tears continued to make tracks down his cheeks. He was alone and unprotected with nothing but his wits and luck to carry him through. There was nothing and no one who could help him this time. He was on his own. The time has come for him to choose between what was right and what was easy and he knew what his choice would be, for there was no other choice he could make. He'd promised himself that he would never go over to the Dark as Pettigrew had and he was now prepared to die rather than to join Voldemort.
Then the words of Voldemort came back to him and his mind went numb. Could he really be the son of a Dark Lord? Did the powers of Dark magic run through his blood just as surely as the Magic of the Light did?
"No! Voldemort is lying!" he thought fiercely, willing himself to believe it was so.
He couldn't be the son of a Dark Lord. He was the son of James and Lily Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the one who'd stopped the Dark Lord's rampage fourteen years ago. Voldemort's words had to be a lie and yet a doubt surfaced in his mind and with that doubt came a question.
How were you able to survive the Killing Curse then if not by Dark magic? There is no defense against it and no one except you has ever survived it.
Harry had no idea how or even why he'd survived. Everyone had always told him that his mother's sacrifice had deflected the curse back at Voldemort but that was all anybody knew about it. No one really understood what had happened to cause the most powerful Unforgivable Curse to rebound on its caster.
What if your mother's sacrifice had nothing to do with it? What if your Dark powers rivaled those of Voldemort even as a small child?
"No! It's not true…it can't be…I'll not believe it!" Harry's voice echoed off the stone walls of the cell. "I won't believe you, Voldemort! Never! You hear me! Never!"
Yet even as he shouted these words to the darkness, the doubt was planted in his mind, like the seed of a poisonous plant, which if it was allowed to grow could destroy his soul and would poison his spirit.
In the darkest corner of the cell the Dark Lord smiled as he watched Harry strain against the chains that held him. Voldemort swept from the cell planning his next move, the one that would insure the ruination of the Potter family's name forever and would seal the fate of the last one. Unknown to him, in another dark corner of the cell, someone was watching and waiting for a time to strike.
~
"Harry is the son of Dark Lord Grindelwald?" McGonagall's voice trembled as she spoke into the silence that had enveloped the room.
Dumbledore looked out over the sea of white, stunned faces. Only Snape, for whom this revelation was no surprise, and Lupin, whom nothing seemed to faze, took the news calmly. The rest of the professors sat momentarily stunned by it. Some looked bewildered, other shocked and a few angry and dismayed. Ron and Hermione looked as if Dumbledore had told them someone they knew had died. Nothing could ever be the same now that he had spoken the words he had kept hidden all these years. They could never be taken back and he wondered what some of them would do with this knowledge.
"Yes, he is, but there is much more then that and I beg you to listen to me a moment."
He glanced around the room and then at Fawkes who fanned his tail feathers causing a small shower of sparks to land at Dumbledore's feet. He had no idea when the phoenix had flown to him from his perch across the room. Fawkes's eyes looked deeply into his own and he gave one low quavering mournful call. Dumbledore stroked the phoenix and then continued in a voice laced with sorrow.
" The Potters have always been numbered among the followers of Light starting from the beginning of time and through their bravery they held the line in many battles against the agents of Darkness throughout the centuries, a beacon of Light throughout many dark ages. Always they had been of Gryffindor but that all changed when twins were born to Cecil and Miriam Potter at the turn of the 20th century. The eldest son, Alexander, was a bright boy, strong in magic and will and well liked by all who knew him. The second son, Andrew, was much like his brother in the beginning but he began to harbor a secret discontent with the accolades give to his brother. This discontent grew over the years of their childhood; festering until it poisoned his very soul and thus when they arrived at Hogwarts they were sorted into different houses. Alexander became a Gryffindor and Andrew a member of Slytherin. The twins didn't let this faze them though. Alexander believed that Andrew merely wanted a chance to prove himself an equal to his brother and he never questioned the sorting because in his view Andrew remained the same person. What no one realized was that he became the very opposite of his brother and all of Alexander's noble traits were growing corrupt in Andrew. In secret, Andrew began to learn the darkest of the Dark Arts yet always careful to remain to all outward appearances the same person. He married a girl whose name was Lily and they seemed to be deeply in love. Lily never wondered about what Andrew did for a living nor did she question why he worked such late hours. Andrew was always quick to point out that he only wanted to provide for his family. Lily and Andrew Potter had one child and they called him Harry James. As soon as the child was born, protections were laid over him and it was during this ceremony that Andrew saw the potential power in his son and he grew afraid. If Harry were allowed to reach maturity he would become a powerful rival whether he chose to join the Light or the Dark. So it was in the dark of the same night Harry was born that he faced his first enemy, as his own father attempted to eliminate this potential threat to his rise to power. "
There was a gasp from Hermione and several faces paled as the words sunk in. Dumbledore paused a moment before continuing.
"The story was given out the Andrew Potter along with his wife and son perished in the fire that consumed their cottage in the early morning hours of August 1st. Alexander was devastated but he never looked any farther into the incident trusting that everything that could have been done to save them had been tried. His family mourned their loss and after a time their lives returned to normal and they went on as they always had. Alexander never knew that the nephew he thought lost was alive in another decade or that his own brother was the fearsome Dark Lord Grindelwald whose reign of terror began a decade later. Only I carried that information and I have never spoken of it until now. "
Dumbledore sighed.
"Years later, when I met Grindelwald in battle he remembered me from that night years before. As he lay dying from the wounds he received in our duel, he asked me what had become of his son, Harry, and I told him some of what I've told you.
'So he is safe then in that other time?' he asked me and when I told him that Harry was, he smiled and died as Andrew Potter.
There was a rapt silence. No one moved or made a sound. The fading light of the setting sun was casting its red glow into the swiftly darkening room.
"And the connection between Harry and Voldemort? Lupin's quiet voice broke the silence.
Dumbledore started and Fawkes muttered angrily to himself as he resettled himself on Dumbledore's shoulder.
"Andrew's wife. Lily had a sister, Claire, who was married to one Tom Riddle.
~
There was no way for Harry to count the number of days he'd spent in the dank cell that was now his home. There seemed to be no time here and he was beginning to lose hope. His stomach rumbled with the need for food and he was so parched that he was sure his voice wouldn't work properly. Never in his whole life had been been so hungry, not even in his worse times with the Dursley's. He was dizzy with lack of food and he kept blacking out. The doubt planted by Voldemort's words grew stronger, flourishing in the eternal darkness of the cell, feeding on Harry's own fear that the words might possibly be true. It lurked always just below the surface, ready to strike at the instant an opportunity arose. Doubt and uncertainty were beginning to foster despair in his heart, which grew stronger as time passed. All three of these were taking a heavy toll on Harry's will and spirit, sapping them of the strength they once had, even as lack of food was weakening his body.
At first, he had railed against Voldemort, telling him that it was nothing but an outright lie. He'd thrashed around, his chains clanking as he cursed Voldemort's name. As doubt began to grow stronger though, he began to rail at his parents for leaving him alone to deal with this. Then, when it had taken complete control of his heart, when all he could think about were the words Voldemort had uttered and the fact that the Sorting Hat had almost put him in Slytherin, he began screaming for Dumbledore in a voice so full of anguish and fear that the one who watched trembled to hear it.
"Please tell me it isn't true!" he begged in a pleading voice that was not his normal voice at all.
With each passing day the poison grew more and more powerful while his will and body weakened. His shouts of defiance grew weaker and weaker until they stopped altogether. He hung limply in the chains, his will seemingly broken at last, tears of hopelessness running down his face. The darkness within the room seemed to be closing in on him, cutting him off from everything he'd once held dear. Fear flooded through him and his scar began to burn more fiercely than ever.
"Imperio!" a cold voice said and instantly Harry felt his thoughts and fears vanish, a sense of peace filled his mind.
"Repeat the words I say," a voice echoed in his blank mind. "I, Harry Potter…"
"I, Harry Potter…" he repeated in a faraway, spellbound voice and his glazed.
"Fight it, Harry. You must fight it for all our sakes," the watcher thought as tears ran down his face.
"Son of Lord Grindelwald…"
"Son of Lord Grindelwald…"
Must fight…
"Do hereby swear undying loyalty and pledge my feudality…"
Harry echoed the words of the distant voice inside his mind.
"To my Lord and Master…"
"To my Lord and Master…"
Never! I will never join with the Dark!
"Serving him for all my days until I should fall…"
No! Never!
"Say the words, Potter," Voldemort said to him quietly and to his horror Harry found he was repeating the words, his voice still misty.
"Forever to serve the one Lord of the Dark… my Master, Lord Voldemort," continued the cold voice.
"Forever to serve…"
I won't! You can't make me say it!
"I want to hear the words, Harry. Just say them."
"…the one Lord of…the Dark…" the words were dragged out of Harry and the harder he struggled to prevent them the more he felt like he was fighting a battle that was already lost.
"Finish the oath, Harry. Finish it and you can leave this place. I want to hear you call me Master at last, Potter."
Tears fell from Harry's eyes and he's face reflected the struggle going on inside his mind. He felt the press of Voldemort's will as it tried to overshadow his own. He screwed up his face with effort of throwing off the curse but still the words came from his mouth.
"M…my M…M…aster…"
Voldemort smiled gloatingly at Harry, triumph gleaming in his red eyes. Harry fought harder still, knowing that if he were to complete the oath it would bind him into the service of Voldemort forever and Voldemort would make sure that he could not escape. In his mind he formed only one word, even as he felt his mouth shape another. Time was running out for him.
"Lo…Lo…No!" The cry was torn from his throat and the triumph in Voldemort's eyes was replaced with cold hatred.
Harry 's mind was his own once more and his body shuddered as every ache returned in full measure. A bright light flashed in his eyes and Harry winced away from it, finding that his eyes were now extremely sensitive to it. The light seemed to burn his eyes and his vision became blurred. All he could see clearly were Voldemort's eyes glaring at him, full of malice and hatred. His scar sent searing agony throughout his body but he glared back at Voldemort with all the defiance he could muster. Their eyes locked and once again the room around Harry disappeared.
"Your will is stronger than I thought, Potter. I must give you credit for you bravery. Usually one month in here is enough to break and turn the stongest wizard or witch. No matter. We shall have to move on to the next level."
Harry felt the icy hand of fear chill his soul and he shivered involuntarily, wondering what Voldemort had planned. He heard something slithering around his feet and saw the gleaming eyes of some creature glaring balefully at him. After a moment Harry recognized Nagini. She'd grown bigger since the last time he'd seen her and the diamond pattern on her skin was more pronounced then before. She began winding her way upward, around his leg and torso until she was at eye level with Harry. She stared at him and tried to hypnotize him with her eyes but she couldn't and he merely glared back at her. She opened her mouth and Harry could see her sharp, pointed fangs glistening with venom for a split second before she snapped her head back and struck him in the right shoulder.
Instantly, he was doubled over in pain or he would have been were it not for the chains that held him. A strangled scream was forced from his throat and Nagini pushed her fangs in deeper. Harry screamed again as every pain in his body was magnified. He flailed around, trying to escape the pain but there was nowhere he could go to escape it. The chains binding him rattled as he struggled to throw her off. She bit deeper still into his shoulder and he cried out in agony, cursing her in Parseltongue. The world around him grew dim and hazy and he knew he was being carried off by the waves of pain washing over him. The blood in his veins felt like ice. He didn't know whether he was dying or not but it didn't really matter to him. Either way he would escape from the agony he was suffering and Voldemort would never have him. He felt his body go limp in the chains and saw darkness on the edge of his vision, which caused everything to slowly fade from his sight until all he could see was Voldemort's hate filled, red eyed gaze.
Enervate was the last word he could remember hearing before the torturing began. After that all he could hear were his screams and all he knew was pain.
~
Gloom seemed to hang over Hogwart since the day Harry Potter had disappeared from the Quidditch pitch. It had been well over a month since he'd been taken and a shadowy darkness lingered within the schools silent and dead corridors. Everyone was still in shock from the attack and nobody went anywhere alone for fear that they might be the next one taken. Students roamed the halls like lost souls, unable to get the image of Harry disappearing in a flash of green light and the glowing Dark Mark out of their minds. No one was sure if Harry still lived for the search parties that had been sent out by Dumbledore had been unable to find him or to even determine where he'd been taken. Everyone was afraid of what this might mean but they didn't want to believe nor would they say Harry was dead. After the others had given up the search Ron and Hermione had sent Harry's owl, Hedwig, out to see if she could locate him when everything else had failed to find a trace of him.
Dumbledore managed to get Fudge to allow him to remain Headmaster for the time being but he refused to believe that Harry's disappearance had anything to do with Lord Voldemort although all the evidence pointed to just that. Fudge believed that Harry was evading justice and that Dumbledore was keeping him hidden somewhere. He told the Daily Prophet that Harry was a fugitive from justice and might be slightly deranged and that Dumbledore was aiding and abating a wanted criminal. There was nothing Fudge could do though because the parents of several students had made it clear that they wanted Dumbledore to remain.
The Slytherins, who'd spent the entire term so far acting as if they owned the school, were delighted with this turn of events and didn't bother to keep there voices down as they jeered and taunted the Gryffindor's about having a criminal as a member of their house. The Gryffindors took it in stoic silence, not responding in any way to the taunts, although the Slytherins did find their common room looking as if a small tornado had passed through it and smelling of rotten eggs and stink bombs one morning. The Gryffindors knew that Fred and George had pulled off this masterpiece, although they were unsure of exactly how. This prank was the one bright spot in the gloom that seemed to pervade Gryffindor Tower and in the fear that shadowed them every waking moment. The Gryffindors and a few members of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were now sporting badges that said: The Boy Who Lived can Never Die. Harry Potter shall Rise Again but they were beginning to fear the worst. Harry had been extremely luck in his other four encounters with Voldemort but his luck was bound to run out sometime.
There had been two attacks in the month since Harry's disappearance and aided by a list of cities drawn up from the record of Harry's dreams, Dumbledore's small group were able to avert total losses. People were still losing their lives but, thanks to the forewarning presented in Harry's dreams, there were fewer people numbered among the dead. Harry was still protecting the wizarding world from Voldemort and everyone whose life was saved was grateful to him. Nobody wanted to think about what would happen once the list of towns he'd seen attacked ended. Nor did they want to think about how this might be Harry Potter's last act of defiance against Voldemort. The wizarding world was once more living in fear that they had not felt for fourteen years and they could not bear the thought of losing the one who it was rumored was destined to save them all.
A third attack came in the middle of the Christmas holidays and this time Fudge could not hide from what had happened, for the attack had taken place in a part of London very near the Ministry offices where a small group of witches and wizards had lived. Dumbledore and his group of Aurors, still unaided by anyone from the Ministry, had been unable to save anyone that time and the Dark Mark that hovered overhead seemed to mock their futile effort. The mark had also seemed to mock Dumbledore because in addition to the skull and snake, there was a lightening bolt etched into the skulls forehead. The wizards and witches trembled at the sight of it, knowing that Voldemort was trying to tell them something but not understanding the full meaning of his message. Dumbledore looked at it, his pale and drawn face glowing eerily in the green light of it and fear gripped his heart. This message was meant for him alone and only he fully understood it. It could only mean one of two things: either Harry had been turned to Darkness or Voldemort had slain their only chance to stop his rise to full power. Dumbledore felt tears falling from his eyes and a wail went up from the gathered crowd as they, too, realized what the message was. If either of the two things had happened then they were all in the gravest danger.
Three days after the Dark Sigil first appeared in the sky, a bedraggled snowy owl tapped on the window of Gryffindor tower. Ron, who was sitting nearby with Hermione discussing the latest attack, looked out and saw Hedwig's amber eyes staring back at him.
"Hedwig's back!" he shouted to the common room and students stopped what they were doing to watch as Ron opened the window. Hedwig fluttered weakly through the window and to the nearby table. Everyone could see that she held a piece of bright scarlet cloth in her claws. She dropped it and hooted worriedly, looking anxiously up at the pair. Ron noticed it was a swatch of a set of Gryffindor Quidditch robes with the Lion embroidered in shimmering gold thread. Looking closer he noticed the Lion was stained with blood.
"No…it can't be," he said in a hopeless sort of voice as Hermione burst into tears.
The whole of Gryffindor Tower fell silent and everyone looked with tear filled eyes at the bloody cloth on the table. The snapping of logs in the fireplace was the only sound in the common room but the Gryffindors paid no attention to the sounds. The warmth of the fire was lost to them as cold fear swept through them like a plague. As one, they all bowed their heads to pray, their spirits to overcome with grief to say anything.