Harry stood and waited. He placed the resonance poles strategically around the station. The wizards and witches waiting for the evening express to Hogsmeade were watching him curiously, but he didn't care. He supposed Dumbledore and Moody and Lupin and the others would show up beforehand to set up strategic systems and prepare for the siege on the train, but no. They were to busy to care.
He felt it. A slight twinge. Over the last few weeks he had become more sensitive to when they were coming, and had been able to find a proper place to stay. He left his poles on a bench and jogged to the restroom. As soon as he entered he found a stall and sat done on the toilet seat. This would be one hell of a ride.
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It was bright. Too bright. Blinding. It was a projection on a white screen. From a muggle movie projector. In the luxurious room was about a dozen men, in black cloaks and holding drinks. They watched as a narrative was explaining something. Harry couldn't understand what it was. He followed his sight, and noted that, as usual he had little or no control over it. He wasn't seeing out of his own eyes. The screen went back to showing a tower standing in the middle of a desert. And then another painful flash came off the screen. It was too fucking bright, but he had no control to close the eyes. He watched as the light dissipated and he could see what they were watching. He knew what they were thinking. He even knew why.
He kept watching in shock and anger as he watched a mushroom cloud rise on the screen.
"That, my disciples, is the most powerful weapon of the muggles. One can quickly and immediately destroy an entire city, and nearly everyone in it. A few could create enough havoc to have the muggle world destroy itself without any other interference from us. It is this, that we must acquire. In time, I will tell you of our plans and preparations. You may go." Harry watched as they all stood up and left. He felt his mind coming back to his body, and finally he was able to open his eyes.
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He was very upset that the blood got on his shirt. He had liked that shirt, and even magical cleaners didn't do so well against blood. Maybe he could go and get another one later. He dabbed some water on his scar, and smirked as he watched steam come softly off of it. He knew he wasn't getting anywhere in trying to stop the pain, stop the visions. He knew that he probably would never be free of them, not until he died. Ironically he would probably be feeling the very same pain, just more, before he died. He sighed and made his way out of the washroom and back onto the platform.
He looked around and saw his resonance poles had been moved a little. Bastards couldn't keep their hands off them could they. Harry fixed the positions, and laid the last few of them as best he could. It was only a few minutes now. Harry watched as the last few people boarded and with a shrill whistle, the train began to move. There was a pop and Harry turned to his right, wand drawn. He let out a vague smile.
"Moony. How are you?" Harry said more out of courtesy than curiosity.
"Fine Harry, just fine. And how is being a fugitive?" Moony said back, his voice void of any emotion.
"Actually it's quite exciting" Harry responded without the enthusiasm.
"That's a very immature thing to say Harry. You are always in peril now. It is not something to joke about" Remus said in an uncle-ish voice.
"Everything in existence is something to joke about, including existence itself. Being alive is the biggest joke there is, Moony. I'm surprised you haven't recognized it yet" Harry said in his normal 'I don't really care what you think' voice.
"How can you say that after what your parents-" Moony began.
"Sacrificed, boohoo. Jesus fucking Christ, Moony. They're dead, and I bloody well should be too. Their deaths are just as fucking comical as everyone else's. Don't look at me that way, death is funny, because it is the greatest fear of the world, yet it is the one great inevitable. Why do you think Voldemort wants to beat death, because than it is no longer funny, because he will be the one laughing. It has very little to do with power, his quest for immortality. You, who has been fighting him for years in the past, should have seen that. My parents died, and that's it. There is nothing special in it. They weren't good enough. Natural selection made a cut, and they weren't good enough. Go argue with Darwin. Talking about them is fucking worthless." Harry said. He wasn't even breathing heavily.
"How dare you speak that way. Who are you to spit on the graves after they sacrificed themselves for you? Who the hell do you think you are?" Moony said, his voice rising.
"Right, they sacrificed themselves when sacrificing themselves was not a hard decision to make. My father attempted to stop Voldemort. What a fool. He never thought of putting traps in the house, on the doors to delay the bastard. He knew he was going to loose, and he only sent my mother and me on is because he didn't want to fail in front of her. He had to keep his fucking pride. And then my mother, crawling away with me, begging for my life. It is very easy to sacrifice yourself for something when you already KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO DIE! But no, she's great and wonderful because she saved me with her love. Love is crap, and we all know it. Its definition is bullshit, and the way people act is just that, acting. The better of an actor you are, the better you can fake emotions and you always doubt yourself and go into denial with the emotions you say you feel, but you know don't exist. This entire world is going to bloody hell, and I will be laughing when it happens." Harry said, he had raised his voice as well, and he could tell Moony was shocked. He seemed beyond words, and Harry supposed that maybe the man wasn't prepared to hear the truth. He would rather remain one more sheep who follows the flock.
"What has happened to you?" Moony said quietly, confused and dismayed.
"I grew up, and decided not to believe anything anyone ever told me, and what I saw was enough for me to hate everyone I ever knew. It's all lies, Moony, all lies" Harry said. They stood in silence a little while before Alastor Moody showed up. He noticed the tension and stayed quiet. Then Dumbledore showed up. He had his calm game face on. Harry watched as they exited the perimeter of his resonance poles. They would be soon. He took out his wand and waved it around, warming up his fingers.
Three soft pops announced the arrival of three men Harry had never seen before. Dumbledore smiled at them and Harry lost all suspicions. He watched Dumbledore as he asked small groups of people to leave the station. It was obvious he was trying to avoid collateral damage. Harry prepared himself, and not a moment to soon. There was a series of pops and there was a large group of black robed men standing in front of them. Harry saw that only a few were in his resonance poles. Harry pointed his wand at the nearest one. "RETARDUS" Harry yelled. A blue lighted went into the pole, and then transferred directly to every other pole he had placed. It created a fan effect, until after it reached the other poles; they did the same, sending the spell crossing through the area. All four in the area immediately looked confused and stupid.
"Infernus." A wave of fire was sent out at the six of them, and they were forced to separate. Harry ended up banging his knee on a bench. He turned around fast enough to stun one of the deatheaters, but they were still significantly outnumbered. He saw Remus fall, and he sent a jet of water through the center of the deatheater group. About nine fell over and a few lost their wands. Harry watched as Dumbledore doused the flames on Moody's robes as Moody out-dueled one of the deatheaters, despite having pegged leg. Harry saw three turn to him at the same time.
"CRUCIO", "SECARUS", and "RASTUS FORMIDUS" all were sent at him. The 'secarus' hit him first, and it felt like a thousand box cutters went across his face quickly, opening his flesh up to the elements. When the 'rastus formidus' hit him, it felt like every muscle in his body was being stretched to an incredible amount of pain. When the last one hit, he had not option but to scream. The scream was so loud, that even the deatheaters had to stop to see what had cause such a noise. Dumbledore took action and in a flash six more deatheaters were on the ground. Remus had made it to his feet, although unsteadily, and was gripping his wand tightly. "Strahltriebwerk" Moony yelled, but it came out more of a hoarse whisper. A long flame came out of his wand and he used it to strike the three deatheaters closest to him. "Oleum" Moody sent into the fray, spraying a black liquid over many of the remaining deatheaters. The liquid soon caught fire, and many of them were screaming in pain. They tried water on the flames, but it only spread them more. As all of the deatheaters were now on the ground, the standing of the light went one by one and disarmed the men before stunning them and putting out the flames. The smell of burning flesh filled the air and one of the three late arrivals threw up on the platform. Remus made it over to Harry. He was lying on his stomach and was blowing bubbles in the blood around his face on the ground. He smiled weakly at Remus.
"This is funny" Harry whispered. He barely had a voice left at all. "Laugh, death…" Harry coughed up some blood, "…death is funny. Remus, laugh at me." He watched as Harry closed his eyes, and drifted off into sleep.
"Albus, we need to get him to St. Mungos" Remus called over his shoulder.
"No, take him to Hogwarts. Here, it'll take you both straight to the hospital wing. Poppy is waiting for arrivals." Dumbledore said in a raspy voice. It seemed that only Alastor Moody came out unscathed, and he was happy to skip around kicking the scorched bodies of the unconscious deatheaters. He was picking objects off their bodies; orbs, papers, amulets, magical objects, even a comb.
People who had begun returning to the platform, upon smelling the burned flesh, immediately turned around and left. One of the three men who had come late was out, and Dumbledore was having trouble awakening him. And then it happened, the one voice they all feared came across clear and calm.
"Albus Dumbledore, in your own words please, can you please describe to me exactly what happened, and your objective, or what you desired to achieve here this evening?" All of them looked at her white faced. "Oh, I'm sorry for not introducing myself. Rita Skeeter, freelance reporter. You may have read some of my work."
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Harry smiled as he read the Daily Prophet. On the front page was a picture of a dozen or so smoking bodies, lying on the platform. The headline read "Twenty Four Deatheaters Attack Express to Hogsmeade. All Captured at Platform 9&¾. Mostly Minor Injuries, Harry Potter Critically Injured." Harry didn't mind this for some reason. Maybe because it was almost the truth, or maybe because it would scare a lot of people straight. She didn't hold back at all, naming everyone who fought for the light, and everyone who fell for the dark. A lot a families would be indicted, and humiliated, and disgraced from the magical community. Oh it would be a good day. One of the poor deatheaters was scorched so badly he lost three limbs; two legs, but no arms. He had to smile at how polished Rita could say such things. The guy would never have a kid, that was for sure. Harry kind of liked his own little bed in the mighty big room. The room was too big, but because he was surrounded by curtains, he felt much more comfortable. He turned as the curtains moved and Madame Pomfrey came in with a tray of oatmeal, orange juice, and a very large steak. Harry looked at the steak oddly. He never heard of steak for breakfast. She judged his look.
"You have a lot of muscle tissue to repair, and you need the amino acids. Eat up, or your scarring may be much more significant" she said. Harry felt his face. Sure, his skin had no scarring, and was repaired to a perfect shine, but he knew that she was talking about all of the flesh on his face up to half an inch below the skin. If it scarred, his face would never feel the same again. It would be like wearing a mask for the rest of his life. Harry ate the steak first, before moving on to the oatmeal. He began to hear a very loud and shrieking voice somewhere "out there" as he liked to call everything outside of his curtains. As he finished, Madame Pomfrey removed his tray and he thanked her.
"I'll be leaving shortly, probably this afternoon. Thank you Madame Pomfrey, for everything" Harry said.
"Oh, my. Well, it was nothing dearie. I can't make you stay, but may I at least recommend it?" She responded.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure it is put on the record" Harry said as she turned around and slipped out of the curtains. The yelling was louder, but it abruptly stopped. He heard the door to the Hospital wing open and close, and he waited to see if anything happened. As soon as he gave up hope, a tall white bearded old man came through the curtains.
"Good morning my dear Mr. Potter" the man said.
"Albus. How are you, and what was that bloody noise?" He saw the headmaster's face visibly show signs of stress.
"I am surviving, I think. I was just having a very civil discussion with Ms. Granger about your location. It is very difficult to tell her you are fine when she refuses to stop waving a damn, pardon me, a darn Daily Prophet in my face. She is very upset by the article by Ms. Skeeter" Dumbledore explained.
"Ahhh, yes. I was very pleased to see that Rita made it. I thought she was going to miss all the festivities" Harry said with his trademark smirk. Of course, that particular smirk had been patented by James Potter years before, but upon his death the rights to it were passed onto his son. Albus was encouraged by this.
"So you have allied yourself with the likes of Rita Skeeter?" Albus asked as Harry sat up in a more comfortable position.
"Not really, I have just hired her services for my own personal gain and power" Harry said.
"You make her sound like she works in a brothel" Dumbledore commented.
"Maybe, but when you think about it, is she any better?" Harry said. He was please to see the headmaster contemplate the thought. "Anyway, thank you for bringing me here to be cared for. But I'm afraid I must go. I have appointments to get to, and lives to save and destroy. My schedule is quite full, and I'm afraid I will be leaving in a few hours" Harry said.
"Would you like anything? Reading material, games, company, visitors?" Albus asked sincerely.
"No, the paper should keep me busy until I leave" Harry said, "thanks for asking though. I'll visit here soon" Harry said as he went back to reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up when he realized that the headmaster had not moved.
"Visitors?" Dumbledore asked again.
"No, they don't know I'm here, and I would prefer to keep it that way" Harry said, with such bluntness, that the headmaster was taken aback.
"None? Harry, that is no way to treat your friends. They are very concerned about you, you know" Dumbledore said. He saw the boy reconsider his decision, and relaxed.
"Alright, if you insist, send Ron up here, I would like a word with him anyway" Harry said blandly as he went back to his paper. This was not the response that the Headmaster had expected. If anything, the boy in front of him thought too much about his decisions, and never took the plunge, emotionally speaking. Probably because he never knew love, and when it was so close to him, it had been torn away, all because of one rat who had already been captured, and was secretly being kept unconscious in a coffin buried three feet below the judges bench in the Greater London Magical Courthouse.
Harry watched the man leave before rolling over and taking an object out of his end table. This would have to do for farewells.
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As Ron stepped through the curtain, Harry was putting on his shirt. Ron thought he saw a large scar across Harry's chest. He quickly passed it off as a trick of the light. He hesitated as Harry turned to him and offered him a friendly smile.
"Good to see you Ron" Harry said.
"Hermione's really upset about the attack at Kings Cross" Ron responded.
"If she wasn't I wouldn't believe it was really her. Anyway, how's your wand?" Harry asked as he finished buttoning the shirt.
"Fine, I guess" Ron said.
"Good, well you remember how we broke your wand in second year?" Harry asked. Ron nodded. "Well, I know you know that your original wand is always the most compatible with yourself, so while I was at Rangeeyo Labs…"
"You were at Rangeeyo Labs?" Ron asked, obviously surprised.
"Yes, very nice people there. Anyway, they were doing some experimental things involving wands, so I gave them your old one, and they appeared to have fixed it." Harry handed Ron a long thin piece of wood. "The resin on the outside was fixed up as was the entire piece reworked and re-engineered, it only matters how it reacts with you" Harry said as Ron fingered the wand like a long lost possession, recently returned. He lifted his wand arm, but before he even got it to the top, a white smoke began to churn out of the wand. Then suddenly there was a shower of multicolored sparks and a small explosion, startling both of the boys.
"Wow! I never felt so natural with a wand before, this is bloody amazing" Ron said. Then the shrieking began.
"Who did it, who did it?" the voice screamed. It was then that Harry saw that the sparks had ignited the curtains. Harry whispered a quite spell and the flames just disappeared. Madame Pomfrey appeared, red faced and furious.
"It was and overactive nerve in my arm, sorry Ma'm" Harry said with total honesty. She turned and left, muttering about replacing perfectly good curtains.
"Harry, this is really cool" Ron said excitedly.
"Yup, and now you have two wands, where as soon enough I will have none. That's not important. Tell Hermione I say hi, and that I'm alright" Harry described.
"The Daily Prophet said you were seriously hurt, but you appear fine" Ron pointed out.
"Yes, well Jesus Christ visited me last night, and we all knew he was quick at healing people" Harry said. He noticed the confused look on Ron's face. "Never mind. Look, I'm going away for a while, so you have to look out for things around here. Particularly Malfoy. Get Hermione to watch him closely as well. I have a feeling he is going to let something slip, and that information can be invaluable" Harry explained.
"Alright, but you've already been gone for months, why are you saying you will be gone?" Ron asked. It was actually not a bad question.
"Because this will be a more permanent type of away kind of thing, does that make sense?" Harry said. Ron sort of nodded before he stopped himself.
"Good, hold down the fort, Ron." With those words, Harry disappeared. Ron looked behind him and saw the scorched curtains. It verified what had happened. Ron sighed and walked away. This would take some translation. What did Hermione have this period? Runes or Arithmancy, Ron never really thought about it.
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"Who was it?" he asked. The other man was on his knees with his hand tied behind his back, execution style.
"I told you I don't know" the man said.
"Crucio" The man who was forced onto his knees screamed and fell forward. The spell ended shortly. "You must realize that your fate lies in your own hands. Come on, William. You know that you can help me. Six, innocent little children were killed, and I want retribution. Just tell me. One name. That's all I need" the young man said.
"I have nothing to say. Pffft." The man said and spit on the reclining figure.
"I am a man of my word. You have five minutes to tell me. Before that, and I protect you until the war ends, after that, and I kill you, regardless whether you tell me or not. But until then, I will torture you. Now I know you have been able to sustain yourself for twelve minutes straight under the Cruciatus Curse, so I will go for muggle torture instead." The young man went into a bag he had and pulled out a few objects. "Now most would go for the butcher's knife, but I always preferred a steak knife. Being serrated was always a plus. Now, some may say I'm gay or whatever for doing this, but you know what, after so much publicity, I don't really care." The man watched in fear as his hands were tied to a loop in the ceiling of the room. The rope was pulled and he was forced into standing. Despite his struggling, his ankles were cuffed to the ground, leaving him standing and vulnerable.
The young man approached and dropped the prisoner's pants and underwear. "Be sure to tell me how this feels" he said before he dug the blade into the flesh. The man's scream was incredible and overwhelming. But the young captor would not be forced away. He slowly had the blade slice across the flesh until it fell of. The man was defeated immediately, and very disoriented and confused from the intense pain, humiliation, and sense of loss. It was not long afterwards that the young captor cauterized the wound and proceeded with heating iron rods for branding the man. He kept yelling that he knew nothing.
The young man cut a circle of skin off the man's back, between his shoulders, and placed one of the iron rods against the man's spine. He shrieked like an animal helplessly injured as the searing hot metal came in contact with his spine. The screaming never stopped as the young captor repeated the action over and over, digging the metal deeper, burning closer and closer through the spine. Finally, the man started speaking.
"Fine, fine, I'll tell you. Stop, please. I'll tell you. Brian Thorndyke. It was Brian Thorndyke. Please" the man tried to yell but his voice was gone from the screaming and it was barely above a whisper. His captor stood in front of him and shoved a watch in his face. It read 5:48 and then 5:49, and then 5:50.
"Thank you for the information, but as you can see you are too late. With your loss, I don't know why you would want to live anyway? Goodbye." The young man placed his wand against his prisoner's temple. "I would like to tell you that this won't hurt, but I don't exactly remember correctly. I was only a year old at the time. Avada Kadavra." And then there was silence. The flash of green light left the prisoner limp and cold. He was hanging from his wrists and he was undoubtedly dead.
Harry untied the rope and let the soul down to the ground. He expected guilt, shame, fear, self-disgust. He felt none, he only felt pity; for both his victim, and himself. He looked at what he did, and he sighed, and took in a deep breath. It smelled like death, he didn't know why, if just did. It's not like it, the body, smelled at all, it just held around it a blackness, a darkness, and emptiness, a void of life. And for some strange feeling, he laughed.
One more done. One more chapter done. I hope you all enjoy and leave a review.
ADJ- Ahh, Mystery you say. The Mystery is so deep that you don't even see the mystery yet. Shall we rename the story "What's Killing Harry Potter?" to make it more obvious?
Hermione Princess- Not exactly, but you are kind of close. I'm only going to say that there is a relationship between his vertical challenge and his "dying." Extra points to you.
Quis- That is a little bit of my motivation, to confuse my readers, so that they may loose track of some details, because then only the most focused readers will be able to try to figure out what will happen next. I don't want to be predictable.
Mordre- Can we agree that the Mary Sue Harry has taken a walk down the dark side, hence breaking down the Mary Sue-ishness. I needed his to be near perfect before I could make anything but. My story is all about catastrophic fluctuations and instability. I hope you can see that.
Genesis 3676- He shrinks the trunk, making it much lighter, much, much lighter.
Thanks to everyone else as well. Have a wonderful evening.
