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.

17. If I Forget Thee...

Harry Potter and the Dark Sigil

Chapter Seventeen: If I Forget Thee…

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Everything else belongs to Ms. Rowling. Thanks again for all the reviews. You have all been just wonderful. Hope you enjoy this part as much as the others. To answer a few questions… Rede: the dates are in the book actually, although they are not given numbers. The time of the Chamber of Secrets is 1992 and this can be determined by the date 1492 on Nick's cake at his 500^th deathday party. Thus it would be 1995 when Harry begins his fifth year. I just chose the other date so that it was almost 1000 prior to Harry's time. Jenn: you will find out. Von of Chaos: there will be more on the Dagger of Sorrow/Sacrifice and the Staff of the Phoenix in later stories. Pleiades: Watch and wait. Enjoy! ~ HML~

He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark.

Albus Dumbledore

Chapter 17

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice…

Lord Voldemort

Chapter 33

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

There was fire all around him. It flickered and danced in a circle around the crib in which he lay. Then the fire disappeared, replaced by a flash of light and then the sound of an agonized scream. The light intensified and turned green and the agonized scream turned into a woman's terrified pleading.

Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!

Pain shot across his scar and the room around him dissolved into a vast stone chamber, where a hissing voice spoke:

See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapour…

The mist's glowing red eyes bore into his own and the room faded to become the Chamber of Secrets where Tom Riddle who would become the Dark Lord Voldemort stood gloating at him.

I'm going to sit here and watch you die…

Riddle's face became the face of Wormtail.

He would have killed me, Sirius

The run down room in the Shrieking Shake turned into the graveyard near the Riddle House where the words Crucio and Avada Kedavra rent the air around him. The graveyard melted into the dungeon cell where he had spent several months.

You will join me. Voldemort's voice hissed in his ear.

Never! He said faintly, the word echoing all around him.

Voldemort's snake-like face turned into Slytherin's who said nothing and merely stood glaring at Harry. For a fleeting moment, Harry saw himself holding a bloodstained sword in his hand, Darkness and evil glowing in his eyes before he fell to the ground and disappeared. Cold laughter echoed in his mind and for an instant he saw shadows surrounding a man with a white beard that seemed to glow in the faint light.

Harry jerked awake to find himself covered with sweat and with the sheets tangled around his body. He untangled the sheets, wiped the sweat that was running down his face from his forehead and got up. He walked over to a nearby table and picked up the goblet of cool water that was sitting there. He took a deep drink of the chilled water. The water in this time tasted different, with a grittier quality to it, but thus far it had not made him ill in any way. Harry took a long drink from the goblet again and stared out the window at the full moon that was just setting. The stars were twinkling merrily down at him and the grounds were covered in a heavy blanket of white. He looked over the grounds carefully, sensing there was something amiss but unable to determine what.

Over the past several weeks his dreams had grown more and more disjointed, the images within those dreams seeming to be veiled in an impenetrable mist. He tried to make sense of the dream he'd just awakened from but could not even remember all of the images he'd seen in the dream. They had all moved to fast for him to catch more than a glimpse of any one image before it faded into the next one.

"It's warning me of something," he thought, desperately casting his mind about for what the dream could be warning him of.

He now knew with some certainty that someone had either blocked his gift or that it had been hopelessly scrambled beyond his power to correct it. Pain seared across the Dark Sigil on his arm and a hiss of pain escaped his closed mouth. He made no move to touch it or to even roll up his sleeve to look at the mark, which now burned deep ebony. Somewhere Voldmort was calling his followers to him and Harry resisted the urge to answer the summons, which took almost all of his willpower to resist and always left him weak and shaky, his pale, strained face covered with a thin layer of sweat. He wasn't exactly sure when the need to answer the Dark Lord's call had begun but it was fast becoming more difficult for him to fight it and the incessantly hissing voice in his mind that was growing stronger with each day that passed. Harry concentrated his entire mind on the large snowflakes that were now spiraling down from a leaden sky and he thought about the fact that he would be returning home tomorrow. Finally, after several minutes, hissing voice faded into nothing and Harry was able to concentrate on the task before him. He had to think of a place that he knew so well that he could picture it clearly in his mind and he had yet to decide where that might be. Lady Helga had told him that it must be a very detailed image that would direct the spell to the desired time and location.

It has been nearly a month since Sir Godric had seen him in his office to tell him that the Tempus spell would be attempted over the Yule holiday.

"You are strong enough for us to at least attempt it," Sir Godric had said as he rose from his desk to pull the appropriate spell book from a shelf nearby.

The book in question turned out to be bound in black leather with silver lettering glittering on the spine and looked very well thumbed. This was not, however, what caught Harry's attention; Harry noticed that Sir Godric had a sword strapped around his waist, the hilt of which looked extremely familiar to Harry. It was covered in glittering rubies. Harry's eyes went wide and for a moment they slide out of focus. Harry felt his mind drift and a low, faint voice was saying in his ear…Take the sword, Harry. The image of himself holding a bloodstained sword flashed across his mind and suddenly he realized that the sword in front of him was the same as the one in his dream. He felt his mind drifting farther and farther away until a strong voice pulled him back to the Sir Godric's office and back to the present.

"Harry? Harry!" Sir Godric's voice sounded panicked.

Harry shook his head and the room slid back into focus. He was slumped in the chair he'd been sitting in with one hand outstretched toward the sword Gryffindor now held before him.

"You have seen my blade, Lightbearer, before have you?"

Harry nodded and then seeing Sir Godric's expectant look he decided to continue.

"I pulled it from the Sorting Hat in my second year. I needed some help and that is what the hat provided."

Harry decided not to go into detail about the basilisk nor the Chamber of Secrets. Sir Godric nodded and his eyes twinkled, reminding Harry of Dumbledore. Harry grinned back.

"I shall have to teach you sword play then. Skill in the way of the sword can be quite useful at need."

Harry spent the remaining weeks of the term learning the fine art of swordsmanship in between his usual classes. Christlina and Will had come so often to watch him spar that Sir Godric had decided to include them in the instruction as well. Only one thing marred those lessons and it was the same thing that was bothering Harry now; every time he saw Gryffindor's ruby encrusted sword his mind would start to drift, almost like it was floating, and a voice would tell Harry to take the sword. Harry stared down at the snow-covered grounds deep in thought.

"It's almost…it feels like an Imperius Curse," Harry shook his head in confusion. "It can't be though. I am able to block Imperius. They can't gain control over me that way."

Harry watched the sky beginning to lighten without realizing it was growing lighter, his thoughts on the sword and the strangely familiar voice.

~

Dumbledore watched Harry's image in the mirror as the later looked pensively out the window. Dumbledore could still feel the presence of Voldemort's spirit within the chamber, even though the Dark Lord was many miles away at Azkaban. Voldemort had no magical power in his spirit form, only the power to induce fear in another's heart. He hissed words into Dumbledore's ears calculated to plant doubt and foster despair in his heart. This was the move Voldemort always used before attacking and it was designed to break all resistance before Voldemort ever came near his intended objective.

Dumbledore continued to watch Harry and noticed a dark shadow lurking near him, poised to strike. Harry, it seemed, was unaware of its presence, for he made no move to confront it or even stop it from making its move.

"Take him now!" he heard Voldemort hiss.

The shadow paused for the briefest instant before it leapt at Harry, merging with the young wizard. In an instant, the glowing nimbus of light that surrounded Harry grew dark. His aura faded and was replaced with one of the deepest ebony. Dumbledore stood stunned, mouthing wordlessly. Harry appeared not to notice the change.

"He is mine!" Voldemort's voice hissed triumphantly.

"No…" Dumbledore felt his heart sink as he watched Harry preparing to leave the room for his final meeting with Sir Godric before they would be attempting to send him back.

"He is in balance no longer and he has chosen the Dark over the Light. Prepare to meet your doom!" Voldemort's spirit left, his cold laughter echoing within a chamber now grown dark.

Dumbledore reached out a hand to touch Harry's fading image, tears running down his face.

"Please don't let this be happening," he begged, as darkness seemed to descend around him.

Fifteen minutes later, Professor McGonagall and the portrait of Alanna McKinnon found Dumbledore unconscious before a mirror, muttering incomprehensible words and hardly breathing.

~

Ron Weasley stood at one of the windows in the Gryffindor Common Room, watching the sunrise, turning the sky brilliant shades of purple and pink. There seemed to be no breeze moving through the trees of the Forbidden Forest and the sky was, for once, clear.

"Perfect conditions for the Quidditch Final," he thought.

Gryffindor was in the final for the Quidditch Cup and once again found themselves playing Slytherin as they had two years past. Ron grimaced, the thought having left a funny taste in the back of his throat. By a strange turn of events in the last match of the season Slytherin had been catapulted into the Final. Nearly everyone suspected cheating in sudden illness that stuck the entire Hufflepuff team, which forced them to forfeit the last match of the season. However, no one could prove that Slytherin's team had anything to do with it as the Hufflepuffs had eaten the same food as everyone at their table had the day of the match at breakfast.

As a precaution, the Weasley twins, who both captained the Gryffindor team, had told them not to eat anything at dinner the night before nor at breakfast and had gone down to the kitchens themselves, bringing back the food they has asked Dobby to make for them, which made up for the order not to eat. His mind still on the coming match, Ron turned from the window to have a look around the Common Room. The Gryffindor team huddled quietly in a corner, receiving their last minute instructions from the twin captains. Ron noticed the looks of determination on each face and somehow he knew they would win.

"They are doing this for Harry," he thought as his eyes misted over.

Neville looked pale but resolute and his eyes darted around as if seeking the Snitch already. Ron caught his eye and gave him a small smile, which Neville returned before turning back to Fred and George, who were explaining some strategy to the team.

"If only Harry were here," Ron thought as he glanced around the room for some sign of Hermione.

Harry was there, of course, in spirit if in no other way. He had been at every match since the one he'd disappeared at and he had inspired the team to soar to new heights. Ron looked back at the team, who were now sitting for a moment in contemplative silence. Neville gripped the handle of Harry's Firebolt in his left hand. He'd ridden the broom in every match and the whole team wore an extra patch on their robes in memory of their vanished comrade: a Gryffindor Lion made up of golden threads whose color was muted by a dark stain. The team's patches were all magical duplicates of the original bit of bloodstained cloth that Hedwig had brought back some months before. Neville had the original and Ron noticed that he was wearing the original on his robes this day and not the copy that had been a part of his uniform up until that time. He was looking at it now, his hand hovering just inches from the patch. Then he turned a bright-eyed stare at Ron and mouthed the words: we will win for Harry. Ron nodded at Neville, who gave him a weak grin in return.

"Let's go," George said quietly to the team and, as one, they began to file out of the Common Room amid scattered applause from the few people who had not already gone down to breakfast.

Hermione arrived a few moments later and she and Ron went down to breakfast. When they arrived a few minutes later, the Great Hall was full of a deafening roar as cheers and hisses echoed around the vast chamber at the Gryffindor team's entrance. Ron and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table and after a few moments the room grew quieter. This lasted until the appearance of the Slytherin team. The noise made by the rest of the students in the hall at their arrive was nearly overwhelming. A wave of boos and insults broke over the Slytherins from nearly everyone in the Hall as the Slytherins sat down haughtily in their seats and glared at the Gryffindors as if they were somehow beneath their lofty station. The Gryffindor team stared stonily back but remained silent.

The tension between the two houses had now grown to such a pitch that whenever anyone from the two houses met, a fight invariably erupted between them. Slytherins and Gryffindors had now served more detentions then the Weasley twins ever had for fighting, although they never served them together. Even Snape, who had recovered from his poison-fever, had become angry about the way his house's students were acting. He'd already given some Slytherins detention and had taken several hundred House Points from his own house, which the rest of the professors had found highly amusing. Even now in the Great Hall the tension between the two houses was palpable, so much so that you would have thought you were walking through an icy, deep and invisible fog. The Gryffindors were given the Slytherins across the room icy stares that the Slytherins returned in equal measure, much to the chagrin of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs whose tables were between them. They had begun to feel as if they were in the middle of crossfire at mealtimes.

Ron watched the Slytherins from under his eyelashes, glaring at Malfoy who was busy talking to Pansy Parkinson. Ron was still angry with Malfoy for saying that Harry would not ever return and for calling Hermione a mudblood again. Hermione put a hand on Ron's shoulder as she saw his face grow hard and his body tense.

"Ignore him, Ron. He's not worth the trouble."

"Hermione, how can you sit here and calmly take it?" Ron asked in amazement.

"Who says I'm taking this calmly…ever wonder why I'm top of the class even over that git Malfoy?"

Ron grinned at her and she smiled back. He noticed how the smile seemed to light up her eyes and that it caused her face to glow. He felt his face go red for a moment at the turn his thoughts were taking. She eyes flicked to the Slytherin table again and the back to Ron, whose face was as red as his hair. She felt her heart lift for a moment as she looked into his eyes.

"Be…besides its time to go anyway. Look the teams are leaving," she continued and then looked at his eyes again.

Ron nodded and got the urge to hold out his arm to Hermione, which he did. She smiled up at him and took it laughing. The left the Great Hall and made their way to the Quidditch Pitch. Instead of leading her inside the stadium, however, he led her to a stand of trees nearby.

"Ron…"

He put a finger to her lips and silenced her.

"Hermione….there is something I need to tell you…that I've wanted to tell you for a long time…" Ron swallowed and blinked his eyes. "I…I…think I love you…that I'm in love with you."

There he had said it, after wrestling with it for the past several months is was out in the open at last. Hermione looked stunned, as if this was the last thing she expected to hear from Ron. She was silent so long that Ron felt his heart fall. Then she smiled up at him and reached up to kiss him. It lasted maybe a minute but it left both of them breathless.

"I love you too, Ron," she said, her eyes twinkling and her face slightly pink.

They could here the game beginning and the voice of Lee Jordan announcing the names of the Gryffindor players.

"He stumbled over Neville's name again," Hermione commented quietly.

"That's because he's used to saying Harry's. We should go." Ron led Hermione back toward the entrance of the stadium.

"Do you think we will ever see Harry again?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I'm positive we will…maybe even today." Ron told her even though he really wasn't sure when or if they would.

They entered the stadium, thinking of Harry lost somewhere in the past.

~

Walking through the snowy forest to the place were he had first appeared in this time was hard work, especially when one felt slightly dizzy and a bit out of sorts. There was no denying that Harry though he was coming down with something. He had felt odd ever since this morning but he hadn't told anyone. His desire to return home overrode everything else, even common sense and the vague sense of unease that Harry felt. Harry felt the muscles in his legs straining and there was a stitch in his side by the time they had reached the clearing full of ancient trees, oak and maple, and a very large bush of holly. All four founders studied the area and stood at the four cardinal points to begin the Portalus Tempus Spell. Harry, Christlina, Will and the body of Pettigrew were several feet away watching with rapt attention. The founders raised their hands in unison and began to chant the spell in a language that Harry didn't understand. They pointed their wands at the center of the circle and sparks danced, then there was a flash of light from all four wands as they connected, the wand light meeting in the center of the clearing.

"Now is the time for your part, Harry," Lady Rowena said, looking at him. "All you need do is think of a place in your own time, any place will do, and concentrated on it whilst we finish the incantation.

Harry nodded to show that he understood and searched his mind for some place in his own time that he knew very well. After several minutes in thought, he decided the Quidditch Pitch was as good a place as any. He saw in his mind's eye the golden goal posts, the green expanse of grass, the row upon row of seats and the flags that waved in the breeze high above the field. Keeping this image firmly fixed in his mind, he called to the others.

"Okay…I've got the image in my head!"

Rowena nodded at him and began the spell.

"Guardian of all time and holder of the hourglass, which allows the years to pass, please grant to this one lost far from his own time the true desire of his heart…"

"To return him to his own time and place of birth so that time's balance might be restored. So that he might fulfill destiny's plan for his world…" intoned Slytherin's deep and gravelly voice, and Harry noticed that his eyes were glowing faintly as they stared back at him.

"I wonder what he's up to?" Harry though as another wave of dizziness broke over him.

"Send him back to his home and friends so that he might gain for the Light a great victory and so that he might take what he has learned here back with him…" Lady Helga's eyes looked at Harry and she smiled briefly at him.

"From future to the past and from past to the future again, take the image in his mind, show us the place he wishes to go. Let him travel there now and so return to the place were the fires of war yet burn…" Gryffindor's face was set and the lines that connected the wands began to glow white-hot.

"Send this one who is Light's servant be returned so that in all the Light might burn," the four intoned together and the lines began to glow still brighter.

There was a blinding flash of light and, when Harry could see again, he saw a glowing circle of light shape vaguely like a doorway and framed by this doorway, he could see the Quidditch Pitch with a match in progress. He could see players zooming in and out of the circle and it appeared to be Gryffindor and Slytherin that were playing. Very faintly Harry could hear the voice of Lee Jordan and the roar of the crowd, although he heard no words. Christlina and Will looked at the faint picture in amazement.

"That is where I come from," Harry told them quietly.

"This is what Quidditch will be then?" Will watched the glowing circle with rapt attention.

Harry said nothing but let the others watch for several minutes in silence. The Hogwarts founders all came up to Harry and gave him gifts. Gryffindor gave him a copy of what were in his own time ancient spells. The book was bound in red leather and had gold lettering on it.

"Use it well and remember all you have learned here."

"I promise to," Harry said solemnly, bowing at Sir Godric and clasping his hand.

Lady Helga gave him a small penknife to make sure his quills were always sharp and Lady Rowena gave him a handkerchief to remember her by. Slytherin gave no gift and indeed said nothing during the exchange. Harry didn't mind he wasn't sure that he would have accepted anything from Slytherin anyway. Harry did, however, thank Slytherin for saving his life.

"Be careful, young phoenix…you now hold the fate of two worlds in your hands," he said softly and Harry looked at him, puzzled, before walking over to where Christlina and Will stood apart from the teachers.

"I want to thank you for being there to help me,"

"Tis all right. We enjoyed helping, " said Christlina, whose eyes seemed to be red as if she had been crying.

Will slapped Harry on the back and Harry grinned.

"Tis I who shall be thanking you, my friend of another time for without your help I never would have learned the Secundus Shield."

"We have gifts for you also," said Christlina holding out a slender and long package to him.

Harry opened it and found an odd long wand like object. It was made of a wood that he had never seen before and runes were etched into the surface of the wood. It tingled faintly when he touched it.

"This has been in the family for generations…we are not sure what it is exactly only that it is magical and powerful. I would like you to have it, you have more need of it then I."

Harry tried to give it back to her but she pushed it back toward him.

"It is a gift from the McKinnon clan to the Potter clan. Keep it safe…in memory of those who have already been lost to your world." Christlina's eyes were slightly out of focus as she said this but then they cleared.

Harry felt his heart contract. The McKinnon family had been one of the ones to fall in the same time period as his own parents had. Had Christlina seen into the future? He wanted to look into her eyes but just then Will shoved a small package into his hand.

"Tis not much…" Will said rather sheepishly.

Harry found a small copper mirror within the folds of paper.

"You look into the mirror and tell it what you want to see in it. Whatever you want to see will appear in the mirror. You can keep an eyes on us this way."

Harry grinned at Will and he bowed, while Christlina burst out laughing. The two boys began to laugh too and soon the clearing was full of there ringing laughter. It took them several moments to calm themselves because as soon as they began to stop laughing one of them would look at another and the laughter would begin again. Finally, they were able to stop and stood their clasping hands for a moment.

"It is time, Harry. If you don't go now you will not be able to return at all," Sir Godric's voice called.

"Coming…" Harry called to him. "I have to go…Take care of yourselves. You are the best friends I could have hoped for while I remained here."

"Godspeed to you, Harry Potter. May the God who gave you life protect that life from harm," Will said solemnly.

"We swear never to forget thee," Christlina said.

"And I swear not to forget thee." Harry grinned at them and they smiled back.

They clasped hands again and then Harry shouldered his bag, and strode off toward the circle of light with Pettigrew's body following after.

He was five feet from the glowing circle when the feeling that something was wrong began to grow stronger and the hissing voice began to echo within his head once more. Three feet from the portal his steps began to falter and he became overcome with dizziness. He could feel his thoughts drifting and he began to feel as if something were wiping away his thoughts. Darkness seemed to cloud his vision and he could hear the voice again, only louder and more insistent.

"Take the sword and with it slay mine enemies."

Harry tried to ignore the voice but he found himself walking away from the portal and toward Gryffindor. He struggled to reclaim his body but whatever force held his mind bound was powerful. He continued to walk toward Gryffindor and he found himself grabbing Gryffindor's sword from its scabbard. He held it firmly in his left hand and glared around at them all, his bright eyes turned cold and dead.

"No, Harry!" Will shouted as he watched Harry swing the sword at Gryffindor's unprotected body.

"Will…stop!" Christlina shouted as he leapt in between Harry and Sir Godric.

She ran forward and saw the blow fall. It hit Will instead of Gryffindor, slicing across his chest. He fell in a heap on the ground blood darkening his robes. Gryffindor eyed Harry, who held the now bloody sword in his hand as he stepped over Will's slumped form.

"Harry fight the spell…don't do this, " Christlina called out to him, tears running down her face as she reached out to him.

He slapped her to the ground and swung again at Sir Godric, who moved out of the way but as he did so he tripped over a tree root and fell, his ankle twisting under him. Harry stalked toward him and stood over him gloating, his eyes full of darkness and evil. Gryffindor could now do nothing to stop him. He looked into Harry's green eyes and tried to find some sign of the Harry he had come to know but there was nothing the but evil. He watched as the blade of the sword was swung upward and caught the light. He looked into Harry's eyes once more but saw only cruelty in the gaze that had once held love for all things living. Gryffindor knew there was nothing he could do to stop the blade and no way he could move out of the way in time. He was trapped.