Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Twelve: Light's Lament

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All the usual ones apply. I want to thank you for all your reviews. The amount that I get amazes me. You are all such wonderful people. Please enjoy and remember reviews are welcome but enjoying the story is more important. HML

The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed…

Albus Dumbledore

Chapter 22

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke-and that's why he's gone.

Minerva McGonagall

Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Sir Godric and the others found Harry shaking and sobbing next to Peter's dead body. Fawkes flew through the door to land beside Harry. Harry's red-rimmed eyes, shining with tears still unshed, looked up at the others. They could see the haunted and sorrowful look in his eyes and their eyes stung with tears at his hopeless and lost expression.

"Peter… my enemy… saved me…" he said in a voice heavy with sadness, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Why'd he do it…why?"

Harry looked dazedly back at the three of them as if seeking an answer. Lady Helga came forward then and, after changing the dressing and bandaging the deep gash on his chest, she helped him get back into bed. She made him promise to stay there for the next few days until he was fully healed. He never said a word but merely nodded distractedly, his eyes turned inward and looking slightly glazed over. Fawkes perched at the head of the bed again and sang Harry to sleep.

After Harry had been asleep several minutes, Fawkes looked at Sir Godric and gave one low whistle, then he began to preen Harry's hair as if he were a baby bird. Sir Godric nodded at the bird and turned to the others.

"When he awakens and is ready let me know, no matter what I am doing. I can see that he and I need to talk," Sir Godric pulled up a sleeve and looked at the deep, puckered scar that ran up his arm.

The combination of fear, rage and helplessness Harry was feeling was nothing new to him for he had felt that way himself several years back. He's allowed himself to be taken by Muggle Witch Hunters, ones who had later turned out to be in league with the Dark Wizard Donnchadh, to allow time for their real prey, a muggle woman and her family, to escape. She had been branded a witch by some neighbor who was jealous of the family's wealth and position. Ironically, while the woman herself had no magical ability, her three youngest children did. One of the Hunters turned out also to be Donnchadh's right hand man and he had recognized Godric for who he was at once. He'd had Godric confined and tortured until he could be persuaded to turn dark. Even now Godric was unsure of how long he was held but at the time it had seemed like an eternity.

Godric looked at the puckered scar and shivered. You never really were the same after being captured and you also could never completely forget the torture but you could learn not to let it control your life. Even now, years later, Godric still had nightmares about it, though he ceased to think about it in the light of day. After a time and if you were strong your spirit healed. You learned to live again and your spirit was made stronger by it. But Harry had a long road ahead and the recovery of what had been taken from him would be difficult. Harry was at the most dangerous stage: for if he should choose to block the experience out instead of learning from it or if he were to become consumed by the fear caused by his ordeal, allowing the fear to control all his actions and reactions, then his spirit would never recover. Godric sighed. He was the only one likely to be able to help him at this stage.

The three of them left the room, none of them able to erase Harry's scared eyes and hopeless voice from their minds.

"Will he recover?" asked Rowena quietly as they passed several students in the corridor who were calling happily to one another.

"Physically he will be fine in a few days, although still extremely weak but as for the rest…" Helga turned to Godric.

"I will talk with him but it will take time for him to recover from this ordeal. I also think it would be a good idea if he were to have lessons while he is here."

Rowena arched an eyebrow and Helga looked at Godric questioningly.

"It will help keep his mind off things and help in his recovery, I believe."

The others nodded.

"Will he be taking classes with the other students?" Rowena asked cautiously.

"For the time being no. He is very weak and will remain so for some weeks. He will need bed rest but I would recommend that he join regular classes as soon as he is able to move more freely. It will do him some good to be with people of his own age," Helga said sagely, not failing to notice several nearby students perk up at this.

"Which house will he be in?"

"Gryffindor and he will not be tested. He will enter as a fifth year transfer. Fortunately for him our term has just begun so he will not miss much," Sir Godric said as the others nodded their agreement.

The three adults continued talking as they headed for the front doors of the castle for some much needed air. They failed to notice two pairs of eyes peeking out from a half open door. Five minutes after the Entrance Hall had been emptied of students returning to their respective common rooms, two people emerged from behind the door. They were both about 15 and dressed in black, velvet robes trimmed with fur. One was boy with blond hair and hazel eyes that held a hint of mischief in them. The other was a girl with startling violet eyes and long raven colored hair.

"A new student, Lina?" said the boy excitedly.

"And in our year too, Will. I wonder who he is?" Christlina's eyes twinkled and she smirked. "I wonder what Raoul Malfoy will say!"

Will smirked back, knowing that Malfoy would probably be angry. There had been very few people sorted into Slytherin's house this term. They rushed back to the Gryffindor Common Room to tell the others what they'd heard.

~

Harry slept for an entire day, unaware of the plans being made for him and unaware that the entire school was talking about The Mystery Student and where he could have come from. Several of the students resolved to try and catch a glimpse of this person and the Slytherins scoffed at the others. For three days after he awoke, Harry refused to leave his bed or to eat. He remained silent, refusing to say a word when he was awake and he would slip from wakefulness into slumber and back into wakefulness. He would awaken from a fitful slumber, his eyes darting around the room before settling on the ceiling. He would then stare at the ceiling as if it were the only thing of importance, trying not to think because the memories of what he's been through were just too painful. His eyes were the only thing that moved, he was too lethargic to move anything else and found that he didn't really care if he ever got up again. Everything had become nearly too painful for him to bear. His leg, which had somehow been broken, was sending shooting pains through his body as it healed and his back was stiff and tender.

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, after three nights of having nightmares and after hearing voices telling him he must get out of bed now, he sat up and put on his glasses. Then he picked up a roll of parchment that was on the table beside him and began to write. He wrote down every dream he could remember from the time he was captured until that very moment. Sometimes it was just a word he wrote or the name of a town, though more often it was nothing more than a feeling or a landmark. He knew it wasn't much to go on but it was better than nothing.

After doing this for about an hour, Harry's hand grew tired from writing. Harry looked around and saw there was nothing to do. Sunlight was streaming through a window, the frame of which was made of pieces of many-colored glass. This stained glass made colorful patterns on the walls and floor. The beam of sunlight danced and Harry sat momentarily mesmerized by its beauty, his spirit beginning to lift slightly.

"The sun would feel good. I haven't seen the sun in ages," he thought as he watched dust motes hanging in the air.

Harry watched the light for several minutes and, as he had done for the last several days whenever he was awake, Fawkes flew to his side. He looked from the sunbeam's glow that was tantalizingly out of reach and back to Harry.

"Do you think I can make it there?" Harry asked the bird, indicating the beam of light shining on the floor.

Fawkes looked Harry over with a somewhat stern expression and Harry smiled the pale ghost of a grin. Fawkes sounded several notes, which Harry was surprised he understood as speech.

"Sun good. Harry go."

Harry shook his head, not sure he'd actually heard the phoenix speak.

"Sun now, angry sky later. Harry try," Fawkes looked intently at him.

"You can speak…I've never heard…" Harry closed his eyes a moment as a spasm of pain flinted across his face.

Harry opened his eyes and Fawkes nodded at him, glaring at him until he finally got out from under the blankets and grabbed a robe he found at the foot of his bed. He put it over his now extremely thin body, surprised by how thin he was. Harry then looked at his broken leg. It had stopped hurting now but it was still splinted and awkward to manage without some kind of a crutch. Harry looked around for anything nearby that he could use as a cane but there was nothing. Harry's eyes swept the room and after a few moments searching he spotted a wooden cane in a stand across the room. He reached out to grab his wand from the bedside table and then remembered that he no longer had wand. He blinked his eyes, trying to keep from crying. His wand had been like an extension of his hand. He'd never, of late, been without it and rarely had let it out of his sight since the maze. He felt even more lost and more vulnerable without it then he had ever felt before. He felt tears beginning to sting his eyes again.

"Try…" Fawkes sang as he pointed his beak at the cane in its stand.

"Without a wand…" said Harry incredulously. "It's impossible."

He stared at the phoenix and Fawkes simply stared back, the hint of a dare in his sparkling eyes. Harry looked at the cane and thought a moment. He knew the Summoning Charm and what could it hurt if he tried. Feeling strange and slightly stupid he held out his right hand and pointed it at the cane.

"Accio cane!" he said firmly, although he fully expected nothing to happen.

To his astonishment, a bright scarlet glow surrounded the cane and it flew straight to his outstretched hand. He'd done a spell without the use of a wand! He looked from his hand to the stand the cane had rested in a look of utter surprise on his face and his eyes round from shock. Then, like a flash, a dim memory surfaced. His mother and father were looking for some small object that they couldn't find. Harry remembered saying something and the object had flown to him from across the room. His parents had been so proud at his first magical display. Harry stared at the cane in his hand with a faraway look in his eyes for several minutes until Fawkes nudged him and the spell was broken.

Harry looked at Fawkes and then slowly, shakily rose to his feet using the cane for support. He stood for a moment, waiting for his legs to stop shaking, before slowly making his way toward the window. Soon he stood in a patch of glowing sunlight and he closed his eyes, letting the sun's warming rays pour over him. He kept his mind carefully blank of thought and simply stood enjoying the warmth that was washing over him. Then he opened his eyes and looked out the window for the first time. There were trees waving in the wind, their multi-colored leaves swirling, distant mountain peaks their tops white with snow and a bit of lake that shimmered in the sunlight. Through the glass Harry could hear birds singing and the sound of human voices mixed with laughter. Moving closer to the window, he looked out and saw several students on the grounds below him. He could hear them laughing and talking. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and seemed so carefree and innocent. Harry felt a stab of pain that had nothing to do with his wounds. Harry stood watching them, wishing he could join them and yet afraid to let any of them get to close to him. He continued to watch them with tears standing in his eyes, a mixture of fear and longing on his face.

"You could join them," he heard a voice say.

Harry watched the students for a few moments and said quietly:

"No. I'm not like them…they're…" Harry wrapped the robe tighter around his battered body and hugged himself, feeling a shiver run through him and not really sure what he was going to say.

"Harry, you cannot allow yourself and the ordeal you've been through create a wall between you and others. When you wall yourself in, you keep others out too, even friends. If you do so then you become cold and emotionless, a mere shell with no feelings…not even love."

Harry turned his tear bright eyes to Sir Godric, his face a mask of fury.

"What would you know of what I've been through these last months!" he said coldly, trying to keep the memories from surfacing but they flashed across his mind like a film.

Sir Godric said nothing but slowly rolled up the sleeves of his robes and showed Harry the scars upon them. Harry gasped and his eyes grew wide as he looked from Godric's arms to his face.

"I was made captive once. About 15 years ago now but I saved several lives that night," he said quietly. "I was imprisoned and suffered so many acts of torture that I never thought to survive. Somehow I did though and when I was freed I felt as you do now."

Harry felt more tears sting his eyes and then he slumped to the floor, the cane clattering to the floor as it fell from his nerveless fingers. He put his face in his hands and his body shook with sobs. Sir Godric sank to the floor beside him, his scarlet robed pooling around him, so that Harry would know he was there. Finally, Harry looked up at Sir Godric, his face wet with tears and his eyes puffy and red.

"How did you get through this? I feel so helpless, like I'll never trust anyone again. I feel like I'm at war with myself. My heart says to trust you but my mind warns me I must not ever trust anyone. I feel so lost and so alone" Harry lip trembled and tears were threatening to fall again.

"What would help you most of all is for you to talk about it. Fear will have less of a hold if you talk about what happened."

Harry closed his eyes and Sir Godric could see tears leaking from under his closed eyelids. Finally, Godric saw Harry steeling himself and he opened his eyes, which were full of pain and fear. His lip trembling and his voice laced with emotion he began to tell Sir Godric everything and, as he told his story, he felt something inside beginning to heal.

~

Severus Snape was pacing Voldemort's throne room. He'd come back to the sight of Harry's disappearance at great risk to himself. Voldemort had spies everywhere and one might even now be watching him. Snape didn't care who was watching as long as he was given enough time to determine exactly what had happened to Harry. Dumbledore mission must come before anything else even his own safety and that plus the promise he made to James and Lily at their grave, were what drove him now. His choice had been made years ago and he would not betray them now. He would find a way to save Harry and the first step was to find who had cast the spell.

Snape covered every inch of the room and found nothing that would tell him the answers he sought. Glancing around, trying to determine if anyone was in the room, he muttered a spell and several things within the room began to glow with a green light. Severus studied each of the glowing objects closely before deciding that several of them had nothing to do with the spell that had been cast that night. There were only two other things in the room that glowed: the spot on the dais before Voldemort's throne where Harry had been kneeling and the stone on which Harry had been thrown when he'd refused to complete the Oath of Allegiance to Voldemort and from which he had disappeared. Snape studied the block of stone and found traces of the Time Distortion Spell upon it but this told him nothing of who cast it. There was no magical signature left behind.

Snape turned his eyes upon the glowing stone on the dais and instantly a picture formed in his head. He saw a brief flash of burning red light coming from Voldemort's wand while everyone had been distracted by the scream made by the Death Eater. Voldemort had tried to disrupt the Death Eater's spell but then Voldemort's spell was blocked by a bright white shield, which had surrounded Harry and the Death Eater as they had vanished from the room in a flash of blinding white light. Snape held the image of this shield in his head and tried to study it. It looked like a Shield Charm but it seemed to have been altered to appear instantly when Harry's life was threatened. Snape wondered why it had not prevented Voldemort from torturing him but at the same time he marveled at it seeing Lily's hand in its creation.

Snape began to cross the room to its outer door when he heard a slithering sound behind him. He tried to remain calm and to remain walking; unhurriedly toward the door but then he heard a voice cold as the grave.

"So Dumbledore's little spy returns to the scene."

Voldemort's voice caused Severus to shiver but he turned calmly to face the Dark Lord, saying nothing.

"Oh, come now Severus. Surely you didn't really think your story would fool me. I can tell when people have been false to me and when I'm being lied to," Voldemort smiled wickedly. "Such a pity, Severus. You were one of my finest Death Eaters you know. You could have been my most trusted advisor but you have betrayed me."

Voldemort's red eyes bore into Severus' dark ones and Snape felt a shudder go through him.

"Those who betray me are dealt with harshly," his grin widened and he pointed his wand at Severus. "Let's see what you know shall we but first…Crucio!"

Severus' last thought was how he'd failed in his task before the room filled with his screams.

~

Dumbledore was worried. Snape had been gone now several hours beyond the time that he'd said the mission would take and there had been no word from him. The headmaster paced the circular room trying to ignore the fear in his heart, a fear that had been growing since Voldemort had regained the use of his body last year, a fear that was also prompted by the dangers of the mission he'd asked Snape to undertake as a spy in the camp of a dangerous and deadly enemy. Dumbledore knew what drove the man to accept this dangerous role even when he could have remained out of it altogether and it had very little to do with loyalty to him; Severus had loved Lily. She'd show him kindness as she had to everyone who'd known her and in that moment Severus had discovered love. No matter how much he scoffed at the idea, no matter how much he seemed to hate Harry, this was still a fact that could not be denied. Snape, for all his faults had once loved Lily even though he's never allowed her to know of it. Her memory was what drove Snape now and Dumbledore understood his motivations all to well. The memory of the Potters was what drove him. Severus was not the only one to have been touched by Lily's kindness nor was he the only one to feel he had somehow failed her.

The Potters had been the two who had held the Phoenix Order together by the strength of their wills alone, the ones whose bravery shone above the others. They had continued to serve even when they had found out that they were the next targets. They were the very heart of the resistance and when they had been murdered it felt as if Voldemort had cut out the very heart of the Order. Voldemort had managed to do more damage by that one act to the structure of the Order then he would ever know. Dumbledore stared out the window at the snow-covered mountains and the still and smooth lake but he saw none of it. He was looking beyond them, seeing into the past.

He saw again the smoldering ruin in Godric's Hollow; saw the shining Dark Mark hovering over the house that had become a house of death. Dumbledore closed his eyes, trying to will the images away but they remained and the rest of the night flashed past in his mind's eye. There was the crying of a baby who had miraculously survived the attack when no one else had been able to, the smoke that hung in the air and the bodies of Harry's parents laying where they had fallen defending the one who was the wizarding world's last hope. Dumbledore felt tears falling down his face.

"And how have I repaid you?" he thought miserably. "By letting Voldemort take him from this place of safety not once but twice."

Guilt washed over him. He had failed in his duty to the Potters, first by failing to discover the identity of the traitor in the Order until it was too late and second by failing to protect Harry in his hour of need. Fawkes flew to perch on his shoulder and began to preen his hair in a comforting sort of way. Dumbledore reached up and stroked the phoenix's feathers but continued to stare out the window seeing nothing of the scenery there. He could almost hear Voldemort saying: You have failed…he is gone now and there is nothing you can do to save him.

There was a thump behind him and Dumbledore turned swiftly, his wand at the ready. On the floor before him was a nearly unconscious Snape who was still twitching in the throws of a Cruciatus Curse. His body was covered with blood and there were cuts on his face. Dumbledore rushed to his side and knelt next to him while summoning a stretcher. Severus grabbed his arm and tried to speak.

"Don't speak. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing…"

"Dementors…attack…"

The room around Snape seemed to grow dim and he could hardly see anything anymore but he had to tell Dumbledore what he'd learned now before he slipped away. He held onto Dumbledore's arm and whispered:

"Memorius Totalus."

The last of his reserve strength gone, Severus began to feel himself slide away as a wave of darkness moved over him but before he lost consciousness completely he saw comprehension dawning on Dumbledore's face and he knew that the spell had worked. Snape smiled. No matter what happened to him, Dumbledore now knew everything Snape had witnessed and he knew that Severus had remained loyal to the Light and all it stood for. Snape sighed and closed his eyes as the world disappeared around him.

~

One thousand years in the past Harry awoke from a nightmare, his scar hurting, as it had never done before. His wide eyes stared at the ceiling above him and fear washed over him. The Dementors…they were on the move and now no one would be safe. Harry shivered as his exhausted body slipped back into slumber, praying that his dream was not accurate for if it was then nothing would be able to stop Voldemort's rise this time. Not even whatever mysterious power he carried.