By Harry's Mum Lily
Disclaimer: I own none of this. It belongs to JKR. Enjoy the story and please review, although it is not necessary that you review. ~HML~
Susan Cooper
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus Snape hissed in pain as the Dark Mark upon his arm began to burn again. He walked along the dungeon corridor wishing, for once, that it was not so dark and cold. He shivered at the chill air while trying not to touch the brand on his left arm. He wanted to forget about all the pain and suffering he'd seen and experienced at the hands of the Dark Lord but the Mark upon his arm was always there, a reminder of his one moment of weakness. He had joined the Dark Lord's ranks out of weakness and fear but, unlike most of the Death Eaters, he had broken free from the Darkness they lurked in. The Dark Mark began to burn more painfully and Snape had to stop himself from crying out in anguish as the pain of it traveled up and down his left arm. He lent against the wall, his forehead pressed against it and took deep, and even breaths as Madam Pomfrey had instructed him to do, even though it caused the puckered scar across his back to stretch painfully. The scar was another "gift" of Voldemort's just as the Mark had been. Snape had to admit that he was lucky to have survived the wound he had received. Voldemort had meant to kill him but he had managed to apparate just before the final blow fell. Other's had paid a far greater price…
Snape jerked away from the wall as the image of a pale unmoving Harry came to mind. He began to run back up the passage, his thoughts turning to Harry; Harry who would need his help, who now bore the same Mark on his own arm that Snape's had. Harry had no idea how powerful the Dark Lord's call was: nor how it could make you do things against your will. Harry was no servant of Voldemort's but he bore the Dark Lord's Mark and could therefore be forced to answer the summons even though he had never completed the Oath of Allegiance
"Please let him still be in the castle," Snape thought desperately, as he ran through the door and up the marble staircase toward Dumbledore's office following the path that Harry had been headed in a few moments before.
He was still running down the corridor when he nearly tripped over Harry laying still in the hall. Snape fell to his knees beside Harry's prone body, which lay trembling before him. Harry's pale face looked as if he was in intense pain and he was muttering the same words over and over: "The Evil is coming." His face was lathered in sweat and it felt extremely hot when Snape touched it, almost as if Harry were burning up from within.
"Leave the boy be! Let him go, Voldemort you bastard!" Snape muttered savagely.
Desperately, Severus looked up and down the hallway but there was no one in it apart from Harry and himself. Carefully, the Potions Master lifted Harry from the floor, holding him gently as he slowly got to his feet. He was limp in Snape's arms and felt like dead weight as Severus carried him back to the Reception Room off the Great Hall. Snape put Harry to bed and asked Vi, whose portrait hung in the room, to watch him while he went for Madam Pomfrey, who hurried to be at Harry's side, muttering constantly about how the Potter boy was fragile and how he needed looking after. Severus left them as soon as he was able to and went in search of the Head Master, hoping that Harry would be all right.
~
Ron stared morosely out the west window of Gryffindor Tower, so deep in thought that he was even ignoring Pigwidgeon, who was zooming around the common room like a small, feathered cannonball. Ron looked out at the Forbidden Forest; thinking about all Harry had been through in the last few months. Hermione sat in a chair nearby, an open book sitting her lap unread. Christlina and Will were studying the Common Room's features intently, as if trying to commit them to memory. Christlina was staring at a portrait of a younger Godric Gryffindor, who waved and winked cheekily at her. Will was studying the golden Gryffindor lion that was moving and roaring on a nearby tapestry. All around them was silence and all their thoughts were on Harry. They had just been discussing what had happened at the portal a few months ago but had reached no firm conclusion as to what Slytherin and Voldemort had been up to then nor what they might be planning now.
The silence lengthened and Ron continued to stare out the window, fear for Harry's life growing stronger by the moment within his heart. Hermione and the others had no idea how close to death Harry had truly come. He had been as close to death as one could be without dying, although Ron was almost sure that for the briefest moment Harry had stopped breathing and had died. Ron had been there, in the Hospital Wing, for a few minutes before Lady Helga and Madam Pomfrey had begun the healing work that had saved his life. Ron had borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak; desperately wanting to make sure he was still alive. He'd snuck into the Hospital Wing and what he had seen there horrified him. Harry lay, hardly breathing, his face flush with fever and lined with more pain then Ron had ever seen in it before. He had then moved closer and had seen the bloodstained bandages around Harry's chest and he had seen something else; there were also deep scars all over it that had not been there before.
Ron shuddered to think what Harry had been made to suffer during his months of captivity. Harry never spoke of it but looking into his eyes Ron suspected it had been horrible. He again marveled at the fact that Harry had survived. From what Harry had told him later it appeared that Wormtail was responsible for saving his life. Wormtail, who had once been a servant of the Dark Lord, had saved the life of the son of the Potter's whom he had betrayed and he had lost his life in that last, selfless act. His body had been remanded to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Enchantment Division were it was tested for traces of the Fidelius Charm as Harry had suggested before passing out the day he'd returned from the past. Sirius was brought in and tested also and it was discovered that while the man that everyone identified as Peter Pettigrew had magical traces of the Charm in his system, Sirius, the man everyone had been told was the Potter's Secret Keeper, did not have even a trace of the spell in his.
Sirius was questioned under Viritaserum and it was discovered that he and Peter had switched at the last moment without telling anyone except the Potters, hoping to further prevent the Dark Lord locating Harry's parents. Sirius, wanting to spare Pettigrew's elderly mother the pain and shame of having a Death Eater for a son, had asked the judge not to mention what 'new evidence' had been discovered. The court therefore told the media that it had been discovered among the papers of Bartemius Crouch, Sr, that the convicted murderer, Sirius Black, had been sentenced to Azkaban for life without the benefit of a trial, a trial that every wizarding criminal was granted by law no matter what their crime.
The judge and jury looked at all the old reports and the court, to determine whether Sirius was guilty or innocent of the original charges, examined the 'new evidence'. Sirius and his old wand, which had been stored in Dumbledore's vault all this time, were tested in the courtroom before the jury and witnesses. There were no traces of the Fidelius Charm on Sirius and the last spell Sirius' wand had performed was not the curse used at the site were 12 Muggles and one wizard had died. It had been instead a simple Musical Lights Charm that Sirius said he had used to help lull the then infant Harry Potter into slumber early on the evening of 31 October 1981. This had been the last time he had seen the Potters alive. A few hours later they were dead, betrayed by their own Secret Keeper. In the face of such a clear cut case of wrongful imprisonment, the jury found him innocent of all crimes he was previously charged with and Sirius' rights as a free wizarding citizen were restored to him along with his wand and his properties and assets, which had been taken by the Ministry. His legal obligations to Harry as his guardian were also reinstated by the court, which meant that Sirius and not the Dursleys was his legal guardian as outlined by the Potters will.
Ron knew what Sirius' freedom would mean to Harry. He could, at long last, leave the Dursley's forever. Sirius had wanted to tell Harry this but Dumbledore had thought it unwise as Harry was not well enough to understand what Sirius was telling him. Harry would finally have a home in the wizarding world among his own kind but after all that had happened in the last two years, Ron wondered if this was such a good idea. As long as Harry was in the wizarding world he was in danger from Voldemort now that the latter's power had been restored to him, as was anyone close to Harry. Ron was not so naïve as to believe that even he was safe from Voldemort. Harry was his best friend after all and everyone knew that. At least in the Muggle world, Harry was safe from harm if not happy. Ron could not make himself like the Dursleys but as long as Harry returned to Number 4 Privet Drive Ron knew that he was safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters and he was able to sleep easier for that knowledge. Harry's safety had to come before his happiness or at least that's how Ron saw it but he knew Harry would disagree with him and who could blame Harry for wanting a little happiness. He'd known little joy in his life and Ron could not begin to imagine what Harry's life must have been like before he learned he was a wizard or even what it was like now. Who were they to begrudge Harry the joy he would find in living with Sirius and in Sirius' freedom?
Ron shook his head and wondered if he and the other wizarding folk were ready for Harry to live among them. Times were so dark and dangerous now. Death Eaters rampaged throughout the land and the Daily Prophet was full of stories dealing with the disappearances of several wizards and witches. There was fear in the air, fear of losing everything they held dear and fear of the Dark Lord. How would they be able to protect Harry from the Dark Lord and his minions? Would they be able to stop Voldemort before it was too late? What were their chances now that the Dementors had rejoined their master? These were unanswered questions the Ron carried with him and thought about almost constantly. So much had changed in the last two years and Ron couldn't see how peace could be restored if Harry were to fall to Voldemort.
He was also wondering how to treat Harry. He had been changed almost beyond recognition by his experiences in the last several years. Harry was so different, older seeming and more guarded. He had become more introspective, brooding and definitely sadder. Ron had talked to him a few days before about coming to the Burrow for a few weeks before the new term started. Harry had joked with Ron and the others, laughing and grinning with them but his laughter had sounded hollow and the smile never reached Harry's eyes, which seemed to have become shadowed and haunted. Ron wasn't entirely certain that Harry was over what had happened while he was a prisoner and he, Ron, was at a loss about how to deal with it. He had never known anyone who had been tortured in body and mind by Voldemort but now his best friend had been and he was having trouble coming to terms with it.
"How should I treat him? What should I say?" he wondered to himself as wind blew across the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione, for her part, was extremely worried about Harry as well. She knew there was something Ron wasn't telling her and that it had to do with Harry. She had never pressed him for the details though, preferring to let him tell her when he was ready to and not a moment before. She would simply have to be patient and wait for him to tell her. In the meantime she would talk to Christlina and Will, who had become Harry's friends in the past, and learn what she could from them. She knew that they would have to leave soon because they were creating a time paradox by being in the present, which was not their own time but until they were gone she intended to learn as many ancient spells as she could from them. The spells that they knew might just prove useful against Voldemort and she liked these two who had come from the past. Christlina looked away from the painting of Gryffindor and smiled at Hermione before getting up and going over to Will. They talked quietly for a few moments together before turning back to the others.
"It appears we are to remain here for a time." Christlina's eyes shone brightly with anticipation.
"Sir Godric has sent us word that the portal spell that brought us to your time has been blocked. They will be trying to reconstruct a new portal at a different site later with the help of your Headmaster," continued Will, looking excited by the prospect of staying in the future a few more weeks.
"But that's dangerous…the timeline…" Hermione began while Ron turned from the window and rolled his eyes at her.
Will and Christlina giggled at him and Ron came over and placed an arm around Hermione.
"You worry to much, Hermione," he said, ruffling her hair and trying to kiss her.
Hermione huffed and moved out of the way of his kiss. She was just beginning to say something else when Christlina interrupted her.
"T'is dangerous to remain, to be sure but without the portal there is no way for us to return home. We must needs wait for the correct time to cast the Portalus Spell. T'is all we can do now."
~
Draco Malfoy knelt on the cold stone floor of Voldemort's throne room. He was 16 now and, as the son of one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters in the circle, the time had come for him to be presented to the Dark Lord and tested by him. He could not become a Death Eater until his coming of age at 17 but all candidates were tested by the Dark Lord himself before he would even consider them for inclusion into his ranks. Draco knelt there in the empty chamber in the same spot Harry had vanished from a few months ago, his heart pounding furiously and his face impassive. It would not do for a Malfoy to show fear to anyone in public but Draco was afraid, very afraid. He had not asked nor had he been asked to join the Death Eater ranks and after last term he was uncertain that he wanted to. The evil he had felt when Harry was taken from the Quidditch Pitch had been dark, cold and full of more cruelty then Draco had ever felt before. Yes, he was mean, even cruel to others whose blood was not as pure as his and to those who had less money than his family did but he wasn't sure if he was truly evil or that he would enjoy killing someone because the Dark Lord commanded it. He had never killed any thing in his life and he wasn't as cruel as the Dark Lord was to his own followers. He had seen what the Dark Lord had done to Harry and he had been horrified by what the Voldemort was capable of when he dealt with an enemy. He had been in the Hospital Wing one day near the end of term and had seen Harry's scarred chest as Lady Helga had been changing the dressing on his sword wound. He had been unable to forget what he had seen that day and the image continued to haunt him even in his dreams at night.
Draco continued to kneel before the Dark Lord's throne waiting in terror for the wizard that had so grievously wounded Harry to appear. Malfoy knelt there because his father had ordered him to and he never had disobeyed his father's wishes. Draco wondered what would have happened if he'd had the will to tell his father "no". He might be a Slytherin and might have had the Dark Arts drilled into him since he was a young boy but he, unlike his father, had principles. He might hate Potter and his followers enough to tease them or to try hexing them but was he really capable of killing them if the Dark Lord ordered it? Draco, in his heart, did not believe he was. Yet here he was ready to pledge his heart and soul to the Dark Lord's cause and why: just because that was how it had always been. Because that was what his father expected of him. His heart fluttered in his chest like a trapped bird and he wondered, not for the first time in as many months, if this was maybe the worst choice he could make.
His musings were interrupted by the appearance of a dark robed figure that appeared to the right of Voldemort's throne and looked down at Draco with cold, emotionless eyes. Malfoy remained were he was and looked at the man with a look of indifference and coldness on his face. The man said nothing but continued to stare at Malfoy. There a strange greenish light within the throne and then Voldemort appeared within it, smiling evilly and his red eyes glowing dangerously.
"Young Master Malfoy is here to be tested, my Lord," said the man, in a deep, gravelly voice.
Voldemort nodded, silently surveying the young man before him. Draco had to repress a shudder and dropped his gaze so that none of his fear showed.
"So this is the only child of Lucius Malfoy?" Voldemort's voice said coldly. "Come forward young Draco and let us see what you are made of shall we?"
Draco went forward with some trepidation and looked into Voldemort's mad, red eyes and knew instantly that he did not want to ally himself with this monster. He saw evil and cruelty beyond imagining within Voldemort's eyes. He wanted desperately to get away from this stronghold of Voldemort's but it was now too late to do so for Voldemort had grabbed him by the left arm and had begun to test him. Voldemort pulled at his mind and read every memory that was there and began to ask him questions about various forms and spells of dark magic. He had no choice but to answer the questions as truthfully as possible. All the time he was there Voldemort's eyes burned into his mind and soul, searing them with flame. When it was over, Draco knelt limply on the floor before the throne to spent to move or say a word. Voldemort took his left arm and touched a white-hot brand to it and Malfoy fainted for a moment. When Draco awoke, he found Voldemort looking at his handiwork.
"You have now been accepted into my order, young Mr. Malfoy, but you will not enter my service until you are of age, for that is the law. You will be asked to do 'special jobs' for me for the moment. Right now I need you to spy on the Potter brat for me. I cannot slip another agent into Hogwarts just yet. I have no one to spare."
"I am honoured you have chosen me for such a task," Draco heard himself say coldly. "May I go now, Master?"
"Yes," Voldemort said distractedly, his mind already on his plans.
Draco kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes and then backed out of the room bowing the whole way until he was free of the room's dark embrace. It was then that he looked at his left forearm and saw something that made him almost faint. There, etched on his pale skin, red and raw looking was the Dark Mark. Draco shivered as he left the fortress to go to a waiting car his father had sent, dread and fear warring within his heart; dread at what he had just done and fear that it was already to late for him to turn back.
~
Snape finally found Dumbledore at the edge of the lake in deep conversation with the Merchieftainess, Lusara. Severus knew very little Mermish but he understood enough to know that some treasure had been stolen by shadow creatures very like the demons Sir Godric and the others had talked about. He stood waiting for them to finish their conversation before he spoke. They spoke together for several minutes more before Dumbledore bid Lusara farewell and turned to return to the castle.
"Severus? What brings you here?" he asked, his face pale and his eyes holding a hint of anger.
"Its Potter…He's fainted again and seems to be having another one of his visions. He keeps repeating one phrase." Severus paused for a moment before continuing. "He keeps saying 'The evil is coming.' Have you any idea what he is talking about?"
"No, but I am very worried. Lusara was just here as you saw and she told me that the Phoenix Staff has been stolen from the vault her people have guarded for centuries. The creatures that took it…we had thought they were extinct years ago…"
"Shadow demons." Severus' words were not a question but a statement.
"Exactly so. Come we must go to Harry. Voldemort's hand is growing longer and we must perform the Protectorus Charm on him immediately. He must not fall into Voldemort's hands again."
Snape followed Dumbledore back to the castle. Both their thoughts were on Voldemort. What could he be planning?
~
Harry lay silent and still upon his bed, deep in slumber. No one had been able to wake him, so deep was his sleep and in that sleep he dreamed. Dreamed of the time before the final darkness had descended on his family and had taken everything he had loved with it. He saw his parents happy and alive again. They were so much in love that happiness seemed to radiate from them. The house of Godric's Hollow had been full of joy and love and he had been happiest there cared for by his parents who had loved him more than life itself. Memories of that time seemed to flow to him more easily then they had ever done before. He saw the house in the center of a vast garden that had been his mother's pride and joy. His parents had been happy and free there. His eyes misted over and tears ran down his face at these memories of happier times. Memories that he could never remember in his waking hours no matter how hard he tried.
Then he seemed to be walking through ruins…ruins that seemed very familiar to him. He was searching for something that had been lost there but seemed unable to find whatever it was. Frantically, he searched the wreckage for the one item that could put an end to the darkness that seemed to grow in power with every passing day. Voices shouted to one another as he searched and he could see green flashes of light through the holes where windows had once been. He knew people were out there dying, falling to defend him as he searched the now ruined house for their last hope of defeating Voldemort. He had only moments to set up the final spell and he knew this but first he must find where that spell was located and the object needed to activate it. It was here in the house somewhere if he could only remember where.
Harry jerked awake to find it was nighttime. He winced as his head began to throb from a headache caused from sleeping too much. He looked around the room, which was dark and blurry and reached automatically for his glasses. He put them on and the room came into sharper focus, as did Fawkes who was perched on the footboard of the bed.
"Lo, Fawkes." Harry yawned and stretched.
Fawkes bobbed his head but said nothing to Harry in return. Harry reached out and stroked his feathers before getting up and crossing the room to a nearby table, where he lit a candle. Taking up a quill and loading it with ink he sat down and began to record this dream on an already long roll of parchment. When he was done with it, he read it over and then picked up the book that Sir Godric had given him about ancient spells of the Light. He began to study a complex spell dealing with the transference of energy from one central power source to a wizard. He was so deep in his study that he never noticed a silvery shadow enter the room to watch him, nor did he notice the shadow's silver eyes looking at him with the same intensity and concentration as he was giving to the book before him. He took no note of the spirit that had joined him but then, as one of the spirits close to his heart that had been called as a part of the Protectorus Charm, she had not really expected him to notice her. She watched him and smiled, knowing the time had come for him to accept his place in the wizarding world and to take up the duties so that the prophecy might at last be fulfilled. She would make sure that he was safe from harm, just as she had in times past. She watched him as he studied the book and stretched out a hand toward him.
"I am here…" she murmured softly, knowing that he would not hear her this time.