Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

by Harry's Mum Lily

New Update: Chapter 18, A Fifth Year Adventure full of Darkness and Danger as Harry enters a new era in his Wizarding Life. Very Dark and Angsty.

14. The Wolf that Follows

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Fourteen: The Wolf that Follows

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: All Characters belong to JKR. I'm merely a humble author who enjoys writing of them. Thank you all for the reviews. Hope you enjoy this part, although it took forever to write due to another attack of the flu. Hope you enjoy this one as well as the others and remember that reviews are welcome but not as important as the story itself. HML

You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…

The Sorting Hat

Chapter 7

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Yes…you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before. You would have done well in Slytherin-

The Sorting Hat

Chapter 12

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Harry walked down the long, winding and empty corridor toward the Great Hall, wondering what was in store. His body trembled slightly and he was sure the occupants of the few portraits could hear his heart's frantic beating. He could hear them whispering to one another, probably discussing him. He tried to be annoyed by this but found that he couldn't seem to get worked up about it.

"Let them have their talk," he thought as he walked along.

If they wanted to talk about him then he could really do very little to stop them and besides he really didn't want to anyway. He continued to walk, silently, with his own thoughts.

"How mush do the others know about me?" he wondered as he passed through an arched doorway. "And how much would they believe if I told them? How much should I even tell?"

He was still puzzling over these questions when he came to the Entrance Hall and the doorway, which led to the Great Hall. He stopped his musings, resolving to try to find the answers later, and paused at the door unsure of whether to enter or to wait. The aroma of food was making his stomach growl again and Harry could hear voices that seemed to echo off the room's walls. The room then descended into a silence so deep that Harry was afraid for a moment that everyone had simply vanished into thin air. Harry stood irresolutely near the portal, not knowing what to do but somehow knowing that he should not enter yet.

Suddenly, Lady Rowena appeared at his side and took his arm, just as Pavarti had done last year when they had entered the Great Hall as Champion and partner for the Yule Ball. Visible shaken by the similarity to that event, Harry paled and tears once more glistened in his eyes as the memories of all that had happened during the Tournament came back to him. Lady Rowena looked at him in concern.

"Something troubles you?" she asked, frowning slightly at him.

"It's nothing, my lady," Harry said in a flat voice as he attempted to regain some control over his emotions.

She looked into his eyes and at his pale face again. Then, without a word, she led him into the room and up the aisle toward the long table on a raised dais at the end of the room. Harry looked at the people seated at what was the teacher's table in his own time. He recognized Lady Helga and Sir Godic who had, along with Lady Rowena, been largely responsible for his recovery and for his education during the month it had taken his body to regain some of it's former strength. The others at the table were unfamiliar to him although he had already done assignments for them given to him by Sir Godric. There was a thin, pale woman seated next to Lady Helga who had a pleasant face and was dressed in silvery flowing robes, a young dark skinned man wearing a turban and robes of bright blue that seemed to flow around him like water, a witch with long red hair and bright blue eyes dressed in dark wine colored robes with silver trim, a white-haired man in green, whose sharp eyes and sever expression reminded Harry oddly of Prof. McGonagall and, at the very end of the high table, a sharp faced man in dark green who was glaring at some students who had dared to interrupt this solemn occasion with whispered words. Harry knew he had seen this last wizard somewhere before but couldn't place him.

They had reached the high table and Harry, who had not had time to look at anything else about the Great Hall, was motioned forward by Sir Godric. Lady Helga smiled briefly at him and winked. Harry smiled back and Helga was happy to see life sparkling in the eyes that had held nothing but pain and grief for the last month. She had been growing more and more concerned for him as the weeks had passed because he had seemed to have not cared about anything at all and he seemed to be having dreams that left him pale, shaking and sleepless. The glint she saw in his eyes comforted her and she prayed that Harry would allow his life to proceed from his ordeal and that it would no longer have such a hold over everything he did.

"Being with others his own age should help him regain some what was lost by his captivity," she thought, silently cursing the Dark Wizard responsible for his plight as she watched him limp forward.

Harry, meanwhile, had turned to face the gathered students to be announced to them. He looked around curiously at the room that he could now see properly for the first time. Harry saw the four house tables looking as they had always had, if a bit newer. He noticed that there were fewer students seated at them then in his own time. Glancing quickly around the room, he saw that there appeared to be more Gryffindor's then anything else. House banners hung magically from the ceiling above the house tables. The magic ceiling above him showed a clear night full of stars and a full moon hanging low in the sky. Harry briefly thought of Professor Lupin and wondered what he was doing and how Sirius was. The room before him blurred as tears began to pool in his eyes and he willed himself not to cry. Godric now stood behind him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder to steady him. Harry blinked for a moment and then his eyes cleared. Behind him he could hear Sir Godric strong, clear voice beginning to speak.

"This is Harry Potter. He has come to us from a great distance and will now be joining Hogwarts as a student. He has just recently recovered from grave injuries in spirit and body and I would ask you to not demand he tell you about his recent ordeal. Treat him with both respect and honour," Sir Godric said as the students began to whisper among themselves. "He has been tested and will belong to House Gryffindor. I wish for all of you in my House to treat him as one of our own while he remains with us."

Harry saw the Gryffindors nod in agreement with Sir Godric's words and he smiled inwardly, happy that some things would not change and yet glad that things were different as well. Glancing over to the Slytherin table, he saw Raoul Malfoy scowling at him and whisper something to a pale-faced girl next to him.

"Harry, you may now take your place at the table and we can begin our feast," Sir Godric smiled encouragingly at Harry and Harry made a formal bow, turning away to go to the Gryffindor table.

Everyone's eyes watched him as he sat down and whispered voices seemed to follow in his wake. Finally, he sat down between Christlina, who was smiling a huge smile, and William, who seemed impressed that Harry knew Sir Godric. The students fell to eating the food that appeared on their plates, only occasionally looking at Harry, although curiosity was mirrored on all faces. Harry noticed the food was about the same, although there was less variety then he was used to. He also noticed that quite a few people were using their bread as a utensil and that the ones that weren't were using their knives to spear pieces of meat and vegetables. Harry looked down at his plate and found that there was no fork, just a knife and a spoon, which explained why they were using their bread or a knife. Shrugging his shoulders, he picked up his knife and began to eat, careful to avoid the sharp edge of the knife as he did so.

"Welcome to House Gryffindor!" said William, grinning at Harry who grinned back.

"Where do you come from?" asked a dark hair boy, who looked a little younger then Harry.

Harry was just about to answer, feeling that this was at least a question he could answer, when he was interrupted by another voice.

"When did you arrive?" This voice belonged to a sandy haired girl.

"What year are you?

"Are you related to Rhys Potter?"

Hundreds of questions came winging at Harry at once. He knew he could never honestly answer some of them. He looked pleadingly at Christlina and Will who glared at the others for a moment.

"Leave him be, all of you." Will said in a quiet voice that the others nevertheless took seriously.

"He only just been presented. Let him alone. Your questions will be answered later," said Christlina firmly and the others mumbled apologies to Harry, who nodded.

Casting around for some other topic of discussion instead of himself, Harry looked back at the high table and looked at the other teachers there.

"Who are the others there?" he asked curious about who his other teachers would be while he was here.

It was the sandy haired girl, who introduced herself as Olwyn, who answered his question.

"The woman in silver is Lady Alina, who teaches History of Magic. The dark one, Lord Harakhty, leads us in our studies of the heavens," Olwyn paused to look at the astronomy professor a moment, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Olwyn likes him," the dark haired boy said as he poked her in the ribs with his elbow.

"Rhodry, keep to your own affairs, if you please," Olwyn blushed a furious red and Rhodry looked disgusted.

"The Lady Leila, the one with red hair, teaches Divination and she's a true seer, " Rhodry continued for Olwyn, who seemed to be involved in staring at the high table, the dreamy look still on her face. "Rannoch tells us about magical creatures and…."

"Whose the one in dark green? I seem to remember seeing him somewhere before." Harry asked watching the professor in question as he glared down the table at Sir Godric.

"That is Lord Salazar. He teaches potions and is one of the founders of Hogwarts." Olwyn said, quietly, her eyes still on Lord Harakhty.

Harry's eyes narrowed and his heart froze in his chest. So this was the one who was the ancestor of Voldmort's. Harry felt his hands clench into fists and his face became set. Rage boiled up in his heart and for a moment the desire to kill became so strong that he almost gave in to it. He wanted to stop the madness in his own time at its start. If he could somehow manage to kill Salazar Slytherin here and now then Voldemort would never be. His parents, Cedric, Sirius and many others who had been killed or worse by Voldemort would be alive and well in his own time. He could save hundreds, maybe thousands of lives with one decision in the past. Then, as if from a great distance, he heard Hermione's voice telling him about the dangers involved in time travel and he knew then that he couldn't kill anyone, much less one of the founders of Hogwarts without it affecting every aspect of time.

"Are you well, Harry?" Christlina was standing in front of him, her eyes full of concern. "You went elsewhere again."

"It's nothing," said Harry, returning to the food on his plate.

Harry failed to notice the worried look passed between Christlina and Will and they silently agreed to keep watch on Harry.

The rest of the meal passed without incident and all to soon it was time for everyone to return to their Common Rooms to finish the work that was due the next day. Harry bid farewell to the others in the Entrance Hall and returned to Sir Godric's room where he'd been told to stay while his wounds continued to heal. He threw his hat on a chair and noticed several scrolls on his bed. He picked them up and leafed through them. Some contained his dreams and one was a note from Lady Helga reminding him to drink his potion that would help his wounds inside to heal faster. There were two others, one tied up with a red ribbon which Harry found was from Sir Godric informing him that they would leave after morning classes to get his wand. Harry's eyes misted over for a moment before he began to wonder what Diagon Alley circa 1095 looked like. Some of the shops he knew were not established until well after Hogwarts had been founded. He grinned but the grin was stifled by a yawn that took him by surprise.

"Guess I'm more tired than I thought," he said to himself as he stretched and yawned again.

Putting aside all the parchment on his desk, Harry began to change for bed. The last piece of parchment, which was tied with a black ribbon, could wait until morning. Yawning again, Harry drank the potion Lady Helga had left and climbed into bed, blowing out the candle next to him. Fawkes flew to him and began to sing him to sleep. Harry smiled for a moment, watching the fire dance in the grate, its shimmering flames leaping and spinning within the confines of the fireplace, seeming to cast a spell over him. His eyelids became impossible to keep open any longer and he could feel himself drifting away. In the mirror the eyes watched and a faint laugh could be heard.

~

The first thing Harry noticed when he awoke the next morning was that he felt extremely tired although he had managed to sleep soundly throughout the night and had had no nightmares, at least none that he could remember. His mind felt foggy and clouded but he thought it must be due to the potion that Lady Helga had asked him to drink. Yet, there was something that somehow felt out of place. For a brief second an image came to the surface of his mind; a pair of glowing eyes and a voice that seemed to be commanding him to do something that he didn't want to do. Then they were both gone again and the harder Harry tried to recall the image and voice the farther they seemed to slip out of his reach. Harry, frustrated at his inability to remember what happened, resolved to think about it later. He blocked the feeling of unease he was experiencing and went down breakfast with the rest of the school.

Harry first began to suspect that there was something seriously wrong in his first class of the day, History of Magic. Lady Alina, who taught the class, was a lot older then Harry had thought she was, her face was covered with wrinkles that were not noticeable from a distance, but she also managed to make the class so interesting that Harry found himself actually enjoying it for the first time; they were discussing the current state of affairs, which had led to the creation of the school in such a remote location. Harry was listening intently, thinking about how very little things had changed and how similar this Dark Lord Zastro sounded to Voldemort, when he felt a burning sensation on his left forearm under the bandages that covered it. He winced but said nothing, continuing to take his notes and to even ask a few curious questions as if nothing was wrong. Lady Alina noticed a fleeting glimpse of pain on Harry's face and resolved to tell Godric about it as soon as she got a free moment as he had asked all teachers to do.

In between History of Magic and Charms, which was his second class of the day, Harry ducked into an unused classroom, after telling Christlina and Will that he had forgotten something. He sat in a corner and pulled up the left sleeve of his robes to examine the bandage beneath. There was a trace of bright red blood on the white linen of the bandage that covered the still unhealed wound on his arm. Harry suppressed a shudder as the wound beneath the bandage continued to send pulsing agony up his arm. Harry felt hot tears fall down his cheeks as he unwound the linen from his arm. Looking down, trying not to touch the wound, he saw a still raw looking patch of skin on his otherwise healed arm. Black as midnight and outlined in green was a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, a bolt of lightening making a slash across the skull's forehead. The Dark Sigil was still bleeding sluggishly as it had since Voldemort had magically branded it onto Harry's arm. Harry grimaced as he examined the mark closer, noticing that it still did not seem to heal. He tried to stem the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm him again but they rose to the surface and he found himself reliving the entire episode in his mind.

"You will join me, Potter. You have no choice but to embrace the Darkness within you. The Light can no longer save you," Voldemort hissed inside his mind with all power of Dark Magic behind his voice.

Harry's body was wracked with so much pain that he was only just aware of his surroundings, as he lay before Voldemort unable to even move. His scar burned, sending lances of sharp pain through his already overtaxed system. He tried to rise to his feet but as unable to. He settled for raising himself to his elbows. His green eyes became for a moment hard and as full of fury as they had ever been before.

"I will not dishonour my family by joining with you…" he said in a broken voice, which nevertheless was firm and sure.

"You misunderstand me, Potter. This is not a request; it is a fact. You will join me. I have found a way…" Voldemort's eyes glinted evilly.

Harry shook his head, his eyes still full of defiance.

"Never!"

"We shall see, Potter." Voldemort rose from his throne and walked purposely toward Harry.

Harry was frozen in place. He could seem to move or think. He felt Voldemort's cold hand touch him and the pain he was experiencing doubled. He felt himself falling and the room spun darkly before him. When he awoke, he was laying on his back with his left arm stretched out. Voldemort stood above him with a malicious smirk on his face. His wand was pointed directly at Harry's heart, which seemed to be trying to escape from his chest. His eyes flicked over Harry as he lay there helpless and then the wand tip was pointed at his exposed left arm. Voldemort spoke an incantation but Harry couldn't make out the words because instantly he felt more pain then he had ever felt before. His body went ridged and he broke out into a sweat. Then he passed out again but was forced awake. The pain soon became unbearable and after that all Harry could do was scream. When the pain finally subsided to a dull ache, Harry looked over and saw, glowing an evil green and still raw, the most unusual Dark Mark he'd ever seen.

"The Dark Sigil…the sign of the second Heir…" he thought he heard Voldemort mutter. "You carry his mark. You will be turned, Potter, as has been foretold. There will soon be no way you can resist."

The words Voldemort had spoken echoed in Harry's head as he stared at the wound on his arm. His body shook in remembered pain and he found that he had broken into a cold sweat. He wiped his face off with the edge of his sleeve and was just beginning to wrap the bandage around the wound when Will entered the room.

"Lady Rowena sent me to fetch you…she was concerned for your safety. Come, we mustn't remain here…" Will paused and his eyes widened.

Harry looked at his arm and realized that a bit of the mark was still showing. Will knelt beside Harry and took the remaining length of linen and removed the bandage.

"Here, allow me to bandage your wound properly for you." Will's eyes examined the wound and they widened farther. "Ye have been branded…I have never seen such a mark before."

Harry grimaced and looked Will in the eyes before saying: "You wouldn't have seen it before, Will. I have a very powerful enemy who is after my life and has been since I was a baby. This mark is His to remind me of his power over my life."

Will nodded in sympathy and saw the shadows that flickered in Harry's eyes. In body, Harry seemed to be 15 summers old but he looked years older in his eyes. Harry released a shuddering sigh and looked into Will's eyes again, trying to gage the other boy's reaction to this news. He merely began to carefully cover the wound and watched Harry's eyes to see that he wasn't hurting him.

"We'd better get back to class, " Harry said, getting up from the floor and heading for the door.

Will lead the way and soon Harry found himself in Lady Rowena's classroom. He could tell she was concerned by his late arrival but she merely motioned him to a seat near to Christlina and the other Gryffindors before continuing her lesson.

"There are two types of Shield Charms that wizard can use when in a dueling situation," she said and Harry listened carefully. "The first or Primus Shield, which I showed you last week, is used mainly to guard against minor hexes and curses that might be created as a distraction that your foe can use to his advantage. You have all mastered the Primus Shield."

She paused and glanced briefly at Harry who nodded to indicate that he had also learned that spell in his own time.

"The second or Secundus Shield I am about to show you is more difficult to manage because it relies solely on the strength of the wizard casting it. It is used to block and sometimes deflect the more powerful curses. You perform this charm by…"

Harry's mind began to wander back to the wound on his arm and to his time of imprisonment. He was trying to remember any small detail of that particular incident, anything that might help him fight off the pain. Something important was nagging at the back of his brain but he couldn't remember what it was. He was so deep in thought that he failed to hear Lady Rowena call his name and was only jolted back to reality when Christlina tapped him on the shoulder.

"Harry, Lady Rowena has called upon you," she said softly.

Harry started and then looked at Lady Rowena, suddenly remembering where he was.

"Er…Yes, my lady."

She motioned him to the front of the room and, nervously he walked to her.

"Please show for us the Primus Shield Charm."

Harry looked up at her in dismay.

"I…I can't…I don't have a wand, my lady. Mine was…" Harry's eyes misted over and he left his sentence unfinished.

She smiled at him and replied: "You can do it without the wand, I think."

The students' eyes grew round with surprise and Harry could hear the Slytherins muttering in the corner of the room. Looking at Lady Rowena, who smiled at him, Harry took a deep steadying breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again and looked at the others.

"Shieldus!" he said in a quiet but firm voice.

Immediately, a shield of bright silver light surrounded him. The class looked on, astounded by the glowing shield. No one else had a Primus Shield that was as strong as Harry's and many of the Gryffindors found themselves wondering why Harry needed such a strong shield.

"Now, I want you to try to change this shield into the Secundus Shield."

Harry grimaced. His head was beginning to hurt but he did as instructed.

"Protectrus Shieldus!"

The silvery shield around Harry turned bright gold shot through with silver and scarlet. The class applauded and Harry dropped both shields. They fell as glittering silver and gold stars, shimmering for a moment in the air, before disappearing from sight. He had only been able to hold onto the shield for a moment but he had done it and all without a wand. Smiling faintly, and with a much lighter heart, Harry returned to his seat as the other members of the class were called forward to try the two spells with varying degrees of success. Most of the students appeared to be able to cast both spells, although there were a few who could not seem to manage the second spell very well. Among these was Raoul Malfoy, who seemed angry that Harry could do it when he couldn't. Harry noticed that both of his shields were stronger than anyone else's but he was at a loss to explain how or even why this was true.

After lunch, Harry waited in the Entrance Hall as Sir Godric had asked him to so that they could get his wand. He seemed to have no afternoon lessons, although the rest of the fifth year Gryffindors did. He heard Christlina and Will complaining loudly about a Potions test they were to have. Harry had wished them good luck on the exam and was now waiting for Sir Godric to finish talking to Lady Alina. To pass the time, he began to look at the paintings, which hung in the Entrance Hall. One was of a clear lake with snow-capped mountains surrounding it. It was a very peaceful painting and Harry spent several minutes watching the clouds in the painting sail over the mountains to become reflections in the lake. Another painting held a wooded glade in which golden baby unicorns and their silver parents frolicked. A third held a castle complete with knights on horseback with lances shining in the sun, one of which looked suspiciously like Sir Cadogan. Yet it was the final painting that held Harry's attention the longest. It was of a garden, which surrounded a small cottage. There was a stream running nearby and birds flying through the air. The location seemed familiar to Harry but he wasn't sure why. Suddenly he was extremely homesick. He was still looking at the painting when Sir Godric came into the Hall and walked over to him. Harry reached out to touch the painting, a look of longing on his face.

"My home," Sir Godric said and Harry jumped.

"Godric's Hollow," Harry said in a faraway and misty voice, looking at Sir Godric, suddenly understanding why it seemed familiar to him. "That's what this place is called in my time. I was born there and lived there with my parents until the night Voldemort came and destroyed our happiness. Someday I must return there to finish what was started that night."

Harry turned to Sir Godric, a mixture of pain, grief and resolve in his eyes.

"I promise you that we will do our best to send you back home but you are still to weak to make the journey. Any attempt now could very well kill you and that would not help."

Harry nodded to show that he understood but that didn't stop the sudden wave of fear in his heart nor still the longing to return to his time.

"Let us first get you a new wand and then we shall…" but whatever Sir Godric was going to say was interrupted by a hiss of pain from Harry.

The Dark Sigil on Harry's arm was beginning to send wave after wave of sharp pain up his arm and his scar was sending searing agony though his head. He slumped to the floor, his head clutched in his hands and his eyes screwed shut. Harry saw not the Entrance Hall before him but instead a horrible, nightmare vision of a Hogwarts torn by war and surrounded on all sides by Death Eaters and Dementors. He watched as all his friends were tortured and then killed. He swayed on his knees. Sir Godric knelt at his side and heard him mutter No…please…not them before Harry fainted still muttering to himself. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head and he screamed. Looking blindly at Sir Godric, he opened his mouth and said in a voice not his own:

"The evil walks abroad again. The Heir must return and soon or the Light will be extinguished forever.