Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter nine - cheating hope
"What?!" Sirius asked, his voice louder than he intended. He leaned forward, the only thing keeping him from grabbing Dumbledore by the collar of his robes and shaking all the information out of him was his last shred of common sense.
"By all means, Harry should have been able to return. That is the niche in the killing curse: the body is frozen in time, and when its own spirit returns, it will be restored. But Harry wasn't complete. Something, or someone is holding him back," Dumbledore held up his hand when Sirius looked like he was going to comment again. "I don't know who or what it could be. Harry is the first who ever came back from the dead in this manner, so it was never documented what the place is like. It could be anything. It could be Harry himself."
"Harry wants to return! He hates the place," Sirius growled fiercely. "I'm going to get him out of there…"
Dumbledore interrupted him by raising his hand again, looking at his former student firmly. "Sirius, did Harry say anything?"
Sirius sat back, frowning as he tried to recall bits and pieces of their conversation. It was hard; much of it was a blur like fragments of a dream. He stiffened when he remembered a few whispered words; they almost slipped his mind.
"Harry said something about a marsh, a forest appearing suddenly. Then," Sirius' brow furrowed in thought. "Diggle. He said he saw Diggle; is Diggle dead?"
Remus nodded grimly, "He was killed by Voldermort around the same time you disappeared."
Sirius took in the information distractedly, his eyes darkening in worry. "Harry said something about the other Riddle and another Dark Lord. What does that mean?"
Dumbledore sat up straight in his chair, his eyes looking fiercely triumphant. His face was calmly restrained, and when he spoke, his voice was still calm and even. "Tom Riddle, Voldermort's father. Quite unusual, don't you think? Out of the thousands that die everyday, Harry just happens to see the two people Voldermort kills. And another Dark Lord; very strange."
There was silence following Dumbledore's words. Sirius frowned, trying to understand what he was saying, but it seemed impossible.
"What are you implying?" he finally asked, looking at Dumbledore critically.
But Dumbledore continued, oblivious to Sirius' question, or choosing not to answer. "The avada kedavra is a strange curse. Those who die by it do not decompose as people naturally do. It's takes pieces of their soul, but fragments still keep the body frozen in time. Do you notice how other curses that can be used to kill doesn't have a shadow of the person leaving the wand through prior incantum?"
Sirius scowled in frustration, annoyed by Dumbledore's odd hints and riddles that never seemed to point at anything. But Remus leaned forward, looking as excited as his headmaster.
"You mean it's the wand that steals the soul and stores it?" he said eagerly.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That would explain a lot, wouldn't it? Why Harry only met Voldermort's victims. Why there is another Dark Lord. He is the mirror of the wand's wielder."
"Is he holding Harry back?"
"Ah, that part, I'm not so sure. It's really hard to say."
But Sirius wasn't disillusioned at all. Rather, he had a determined fire in his eyes that replaced the hollow emptiness that resided there only a day ago, his face flushed with a hope that he hadn't had for years. "But Harry can live," he whispered aloud, mostly to reassure himself. He laughed softly, feeling as if a weight had been lifted and he could finally breathe again. He turned towards Dumbledore sharply, stubbornly resolute. "I have to help him. Harry can't do this by himself. I'm going there to find him, and I don't care how."
"Sirius, we aren't even sure if that's possible," Remus said, looking worriedly at his friend.
"No, Remus. Sirius has a point."
The two students fell silent at Dumbledore's words, Remus looking at his previous headmaster in shock, and Sirius with gratitude.
"Harry can't do this by himself," he continued. "He's defenseless and he's lost. He doesn't know who to trust, especially since he doesn't even know who his enemy is. It's best if he had someone there to guide him," Dumbledore stood up, his face taking on the expression that he bore whenever he faced a rather difficult riddle. "I have a spell in mind that might serve our purpose," he stopped by the door, looking back at his pupil with a fatherly concern. "Sirius, please think things over while I'm gone. This is a very serious risk that could easily cost you your life. Please choose carefully."
Sirius frowned, angry that Dumbledore even suggested that he should back out of something as serious as this. What was he thinking? Harry's life was in question, and all Dumbledore could suggest was Sirius should keep his? He owed too much to the boy. Harry gave his life for him, a completely misguided action that would probably make James and Lily turn in their graves.
No, Sirius was going to help Harry. Even if he had to give up his life, just to give him the smallest glimmer of hope. He was going to fulfill the task given to him fourteen years ago, and help him as a godfather should. Harry had been alone for too long.
Harry rubbed his arms, hugging his legs close to his chest for warmth. No matter how he tried to draw himself behind the large rock, wind still whipped his body harshly. The sun had set hours ago, and he long since gave up trying to find his way down the mountain. He slipped and fell twice already, and came close to breaking his neck on a nasty fall several times. The cliff was uneven and unpredictable; rocks littered the ground in various sizes, all sharp enough to break skin. He wasn't sure if he could die again, but he didn't want to try.
Now, more than ever, Harry wished had still had his wand. At least he would have some heat, or maybe even transfigure something into a makeshift tent. Shivering, Harry blew on his hands, and tried to pull himself further behind the rock.
How Sirius was doing? Harry couldn't help but wonder. Was he still upset? Did he think everything was a dream? He wanted to see him again, go back to that small guestroom where everything exuded warmth and comfort, but at the same time, he was hesitant. He didn't want to see the pain that he had caused with his actions.
A sound behind him made him jump.
"Whose there?" Harry said loudly. The wind scattered his voice and made him sound strangely weak.
"Who're you?" the voice asked sharply. "Why are you in the Badlands?"
Badlands?
Harry stiffened; that name didn't bode well. What if he was in enemy's territory, like the Dark Lord's place?
The was a shuffle, and suddenly the sky above ripped with a blinding light. For a brief moment, Harry caught the gleam of a polished wood being drawn by a youthful hand from the folds of dark robes. Harry's heart sank; the stranger was reaching for his wand. He was going to kill him!
The past few days had made his rather rash, but with people attempting to kill him left and right, Harry had long since learned to reply on himself and take matters into his own hands. But it was still with a rather churning stomach that Harry flung himself blindly towards the stranger. The roar of thunder was ringing through his ears, the wind whipping his clothes. He struck the taller man solidly, feeling the figure grunt in surprise, the weight slamming against the rocky floor heavily. Harry reached for the stranger's wand hand, pinning it beneath his knee and trying to tug the weapon lose.
"Get off!" the stranger hissed.
He fended off his attacker with the free hand. Taken by surprise, Harry could barely react when the limb slammed into his side, knocking him off balance. He skidded on the rock surface, weaponless and out of breath. The stranger was on him in an instant, twisting his arm back and pinning him against the ground.
"No…," Harry choked out, desperation setting in. He thrashed against the hold, but his shoulder screamed in protest.
"Who are you?" the voice repeated. He pressed the wand firmly at the back of Harry's neck. Harry stilled, breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to breathe against the weight.
"None of your business," Harry tried hard to keep his words steady.
"Where is he?" the voice snapped.
"Who?" Harry whispered hoarsely, baffled.
The weight against his back abruptly increased, pushing his arm painfully. Harry bit his lip, holding back a cry of pain. "Harry Potter, where is he?"
Harry paled, body stiffening. The man was after him. They were after him! The stranger worked for the dark lord. Harry chewed his lip, determined not to throw his only cover. He had to get away before the stranger discovered.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said firmly, his words clear and firm in the howling wind.
"Liar!" the man hissed, straining Harry's arm even further.
Harry couldn't help but cry out in pain from the fire licking at his joints; any more and he was sure his arm was going to snap. But the pressure left suddenly. Harry squirmed into a sitting position, nursing his abused limb, weary of the wand still held against his neck.
"You're… you're just a boy!" the man said hesitantly, sounding worried and rueful.
Harry inwardly fumed at the condescending tone, but just as he drew a breath to come back with a sharp retort, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky like a midday sun. For a brief second, everything glowed with acute detail. Harry's breath froze in his throat when he caught sight of the man's face.
From the silence that followed, it was obvious that he had seen Harry as well. The man seemed to have lost his voice, unsteady breathing echoing through the wind.
The wand drew away from his neck; a soft spell lit the tip and sent grotesque shadows dancing across the rocky cliff face. Harry stared at the man unblinkingly, mind whirling with a million unspoken questions. Was he dreaming again? How could this be possible? Harry closed his eyes tightly and opened them again, but the man was still there. He could feel the color draining from his face, breath choked in his chest.
"Harry?" the man whispered shakily.
*
Yes, the rest of the plot is finally revealed! But… it's a cliffee! *runs from MercS to Tilly*
I'm sorry this chapter is so… what's the word… (fill in the blank)… and a cliffhanger too, but I couldn't seem to get anything else to fit on this hope theme. Ack, I'm really sorry. This is what Bio does to you. That and three hours of sleep. If I flunk tomorrow, I'm blaming this story. *yawns*
The title of the sequel is Playing Life *cackle* I'm still iffy whether or not I want to carry through with it though. But there're some good news, I'm almost finished with this story! I'm pretty sure there's going to be around 25 chapters, plus a bonus epilogue. I'm currently smudging my way through chapter 21. It gets a bit rushed towards the end. You can sort of tell by just reading it. From chapters 14 - 18 its all slow and sluggy, then chapters 19 -20, the plot makes a sharp crank. Its like you suddenly drank a gallon of coffee or something to that effect. I'm going to comb through the story with a fine toothed brush for any beefing up so it would seem so bad.
Wah! RioRaptor, I'm so sorry. I have this auto correct thing on my word program and it automatically fixes everything it thinks it an error. It's kind of like parselmouth becomes parse mouth if I'm not careful and don't go back to check. Although, I have to admit, RioRaptor to Rio Rapture is a bit far fetched.
See! There! Happy? Harry's not… entirely hopeless! Haha! Although it took… lets see… seven chapters to establish that. *grins*
Crud. Time for bio, can't reply to all those great reviews. I'm so sorry! Thank you for all the support! It inspires me to write faster, it really does! Thank you!
a/n see bottom.
Cheating Death
By neutral
Chapter nine - cheating hope
"What?!" Sirius asked, his voice louder than he intended. He leaned forward, the only thing keeping him from grabbing Dumbledore by the collar of his robes and shaking all the information out of him was his last shred of common sense.
"By all means, Harry should have been able to return. That is the niche in the killing curse: the body is frozen in time, and when its own spirit returns, it will be restored. But Harry wasn't complete. Something, or someone is holding him back," Dumbledore held up his hand when Sirius looked like he was going to comment again. "I don't know who or what it could be. Harry is the first who ever came back from the dead in this manner, so it was never documented what the place is like. It could be anything. It could be Harry himself."
"Harry wants to return! He hates the place," Sirius growled fiercely. "I'm going to get him out of there…"
Dumbledore interrupted him by raising his hand again, looking at his former student firmly. "Sirius, did Harry say anything?"
Sirius sat back, frowning as he tried to recall bits and pieces of their conversation. It was hard; much of it was a blur like fragments of a dream. He stiffened when he remembered a few whispered words; they almost slipped his mind.
"Harry said something about a marsh, a forest appearing suddenly. Then," Sirius' brow furrowed in thought. "Diggle. He said he saw Diggle; is Diggle dead?"
Remus nodded grimly, "He was killed by Voldermort around the same time you disappeared."
Sirius took in the information distractedly, his eyes darkening in worry. "Harry said something about the other Riddle and another Dark Lord. What does that mean?"
Dumbledore sat up straight in his chair, his eyes looking fiercely triumphant. His face was calmly restrained, and when he spoke, his voice was still calm and even. "Tom Riddle, Voldermort's father. Quite unusual, don't you think? Out of the thousands that die everyday, Harry just happens to see the two people Voldermort kills. And another Dark Lord; very strange."
There was silence following Dumbledore's words. Sirius frowned, trying to understand what he was saying, but it seemed impossible.
"What are you implying?" he finally asked, looking at Dumbledore critically.
But Dumbledore continued, oblivious to Sirius' question, or choosing not to answer. "The avada kedavra is a strange curse. Those who die by it do not decompose as people naturally do. It's takes pieces of their soul, but fragments still keep the body frozen in time. Do you notice how other curses that can be used to kill doesn't have a shadow of the person leaving the wand through prior incantum?"
Sirius scowled in frustration, annoyed by Dumbledore's odd hints and riddles that never seemed to point at anything. But Remus leaned forward, looking as excited as his headmaster.
"You mean it's the wand that steals the soul and stores it?" he said eagerly.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That would explain a lot, wouldn't it? Why Harry only met Voldermort's victims. Why there is another Dark Lord. He is the mirror of the wand's wielder."
"Is he holding Harry back?"
"Ah, that part, I'm not so sure. It's really hard to say."
But Sirius wasn't disillusioned at all. Rather, he had a determined fire in his eyes that replaced the hollow emptiness that resided there only a day ago, his face flushed with a hope that he hadn't had for years. "But Harry can live," he whispered aloud, mostly to reassure himself. He laughed softly, feeling as if a weight had been lifted and he could finally breathe again. He turned towards Dumbledore sharply, stubbornly resolute. "I have to help him. Harry can't do this by himself. I'm going there to find him, and I don't care how."
"Sirius, we aren't even sure if that's possible," Remus said, looking worriedly at his friend.
"No, Remus. Sirius has a point."
The two students fell silent at Dumbledore's words, Remus looking at his previous headmaster in shock, and Sirius with gratitude.
"Harry can't do this by himself," he continued. "He's defenseless and he's lost. He doesn't know who to trust, especially since he doesn't even know who his enemy is. It's best if he had someone there to guide him," Dumbledore stood up, his face taking on the expression that he bore whenever he faced a rather difficult riddle. "I have a spell in mind that might serve our purpose," he stopped by the door, looking back at his pupil with a fatherly concern. "Sirius, please think things over while I'm gone. This is a very serious risk that could easily cost you your life. Please choose carefully."
Sirius frowned, angry that Dumbledore even suggested that he should back out of something as serious as this. What was he thinking? Harry's life was in question, and all Dumbledore could suggest was Sirius should keep his? He owed too much to the boy. Harry gave his life for him, a completely misguided action that would probably make James and Lily turn in their graves.
No, Sirius was going to help Harry. Even if he had to give up his life, just to give him the smallest glimmer of hope. He was going to fulfill the task given to him fourteen years ago, and help him as a godfather should. Harry had been alone for too long.
Harry rubbed his arms, hugging his legs close to his chest for warmth. No matter how he tried to draw himself behind the large rock, wind still whipped his body harshly. The sun had set hours ago, and he long since gave up trying to find his way down the mountain. He slipped and fell twice already, and came close to breaking his neck on a nasty fall several times. The cliff was uneven and unpredictable; rocks littered the ground in various sizes, all sharp enough to break skin. He wasn't sure if he could die again, but he didn't want to try.
Now, more than ever, Harry wished had still had his wand. At least he would have some heat, or maybe even transfigure something into a makeshift tent. Shivering, Harry blew on his hands, and tried to pull himself further behind the rock.
How Sirius was doing? Harry couldn't help but wonder. Was he still upset? Did he think everything was a dream? He wanted to see him again, go back to that small guestroom where everything exuded warmth and comfort, but at the same time, he was hesitant. He didn't want to see the pain that he had caused with his actions.
A sound behind him made him jump.
"Whose there?" Harry said loudly. The wind scattered his voice and made him sound strangely weak.
"Who're you?" the voice asked sharply. "Why are you in the Badlands?"
Badlands?
Harry stiffened; that name didn't bode well. What if he was in enemy's territory, like the Dark Lord's place?
The was a shuffle, and suddenly the sky above ripped with a blinding light. For a brief moment, Harry caught the gleam of a polished wood being drawn by a youthful hand from the folds of dark robes. Harry's heart sank; the stranger was reaching for his wand. He was going to kill him!
The past few days had made his rather rash, but with people attempting to kill him left and right, Harry had long since learned to reply on himself and take matters into his own hands. But it was still with a rather churning stomach that Harry flung himself blindly towards the stranger. The roar of thunder was ringing through his ears, the wind whipping his clothes. He struck the taller man solidly, feeling the figure grunt in surprise, the weight slamming against the rocky floor heavily. Harry reached for the stranger's wand hand, pinning it beneath his knee and trying to tug the weapon lose.
"Get off!" the stranger hissed.
He fended off his attacker with the free hand. Taken by surprise, Harry could barely react when the limb slammed into his side, knocking him off balance. He skidded on the rock surface, weaponless and out of breath. The stranger was on him in an instant, twisting his arm back and pinning him against the ground.
"No…," Harry choked out, desperation setting in. He thrashed against the hold, but his shoulder screamed in protest.
"Who are you?" the voice repeated. He pressed the wand firmly at the back of Harry's neck. Harry stilled, breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to breathe against the weight.
"None of your business," Harry tried hard to keep his words steady.
"Where is he?" the voice snapped.
"Who?" Harry whispered hoarsely, baffled.
The weight against his back abruptly increased, pushing his arm painfully. Harry bit his lip, holding back a cry of pain. "Harry Potter, where is he?"
Harry paled, body stiffening. The man was after him. They were after him! The stranger worked for the dark lord. Harry chewed his lip, determined not to throw his only cover. He had to get away before the stranger discovered.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said firmly, his words clear and firm in the howling wind.
"Liar!" the man hissed, straining Harry's arm even further.
Harry couldn't help but cry out in pain from the fire licking at his joints; any more and he was sure his arm was going to snap. But the pressure left suddenly. Harry squirmed into a sitting position, nursing his abused limb, weary of the wand still held against his neck.
"You're… you're just a boy!" the man said hesitantly, sounding worried and rueful.
Harry inwardly fumed at the condescending tone, but just as he drew a breath to come back with a sharp retort, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky like a midday sun. For a brief second, everything glowed with acute detail. Harry's breath froze in his throat when he caught sight of the man's face.
From the silence that followed, it was obvious that he had seen Harry as well. The man seemed to have lost his voice, unsteady breathing echoing through the wind.
The wand drew away from his neck; a soft spell lit the tip and sent grotesque shadows dancing across the rocky cliff face. Harry stared at the man unblinkingly, mind whirling with a million unspoken questions. Was he dreaming again? How could this be possible? Harry closed his eyes tightly and opened them again, but the man was still there. He could feel the color draining from his face, breath choked in his chest.
"Harry?" the man whispered shakily.
*
Yes, the rest of the plot is finally revealed! But… it's a cliffee! *runs from MercS to Tilly*
I'm sorry this chapter is so… what's the word… (fill in the blank)… and a cliffhanger too, but I couldn't seem to get anything else to fit on this hope theme. Ack, I'm really sorry. This is what Bio does to you. That and three hours of sleep. If I flunk tomorrow, I'm blaming this story. *yawns*
The title of the sequel is Playing Life *cackle* I'm still iffy whether or not I want to carry through with it though. But there're some good news, I'm almost finished with this story! I'm pretty sure there's going to be around 25 chapters, plus a bonus epilogue. I'm currently smudging my way through chapter 21. It gets a bit rushed towards the end. You can sort of tell by just reading it. From chapters 14 - 18 its all slow and sluggy, then chapters 19 -20, the plot makes a sharp crank. Its like you suddenly drank a gallon of coffee or something to that effect. I'm going to comb through the story with a fine toothed brush for any beefing up so it would seem so bad.
Wah! RioRaptor, I'm so sorry. I have this auto correct thing on my word program and it automatically fixes everything it thinks it an error. It's kind of like parselmouth becomes parse mouth if I'm not careful and don't go back to check. Although, I have to admit, RioRaptor to Rio Rapture is a bit far fetched.
See! There! Happy? Harry's not… entirely hopeless! Haha! Although it took… lets see… seven chapters to establish that. *grins*
Crud. Time for bio, can't reply to all those great reviews. I'm so sorry! Thank you for all the support! It inspires me to write faster, it really does! Thank you!