A/N: Well, this has always been 5th Year AU, so OoTP doesn't affect it much. (If I had set it after the end of OoTP, I think Harry would have had a few more questions for Thanatos) Anyway, readers may rest assured that there will be no significant spoilers in this chapter, nor in those that follow.
Disclaimer from previous chapters still applies.
Water and fire succeed
The town, the pasture and the weed.
Water and fire deride
The sacrifice that we denied.
Water and fire shall rot
The marred foundations we forgot,
Of sanctuary and choir.
This is the death of water and fire.
"Defend myself?!" Harry shouted, clinging desperately as the staircase rolled and writhed beneath him. "How? I don't have my wand!"
Thanatos voice was suddenly soft, as if he were whispering in his ear. What is magic, Harry?
The young wizard did not answer, distracted by the texture of the stairs beneath his palms. It was changing, becoming cooler and bumpier.
Magic is will. That is all. All humans impose their will upon the world around them. Only, the wizard does so through more extraordinary means than most mortals.
Scales! The bumps under his fingers were scales, poisonous green and glittering! The angles of the individual steps grew more and more obtuse, until there were no steps at all, only a long ramp of chilly scales. Harry began to slide slowly downwards into darkness. "Thanatos!"
You need no wand, Harry. A metallic tang in Death's voice was the only sign of his mounting anxiety. Your will is no less strong than his.
He was falling. He couldn't hold onto those smooth scales. He looked over his shoulder, and far below him he could see a diamond-shaped head and two vast globes of yellow light. He was clinging to the back of a giant Basilisk, sliding inexorably down toward its deadly jaws. His eyes slammed shut.
Listen to me, Harry! Death's voice was harsh now, grating and painful in his head. Fight him!
Harry gasped and opened his eyes again, looking just long enough to see the serpent's mouth open in preparation to receive its prey. Each fang was easily as long as Harry's body. The young wizard began to slide downward more quickly. Was his weight increasing? His limbs felt heavier, his fingers less dexterous. He looked at his hands. The skin was turning gray and losing its luster. He was being petrified.
Harry Potter! The cry was accompanied by a kind of telepathic blow. How dare you panic? You are a Gryffindor!
The young wizard bit his lip until he drew blood, closing his eyes again, then in a sudden flash of inspiration thrust his now-stiffened fingers into the Basilisk's skin. With a sharp crunching noise, Harry's nails pierced the scales and burrowed into the flesh beneath. The hiss of pain below him sounded like a waterfall. His descent halted, but the heavy, dead feeling of muscle freezing up continued to creep up his legs and down his arms.
The serpentine body beneath him shifted, muscles tightening as the Basilisk raised its massive head and curved its long neck around to reach the clinging boy. He was helpless. It would be over in only a moment.
Help! He thought frantically at Thanatos, at anyone who might be listening, Help me!
Death said nothing. Nothing at all. In the dark distance, Harry heard the heavy beating of wings.
Harry's eyes popped open as he remembered his battle in the Chamber of Secrets.
"Fawkes!" He shouted.
The familiar chiming notes of Phoenix-song rang through Harry's mind and quivered along every nerve of his half-petrified body. But, though he strained his eyes against the surrounding blackness, no red-gold gleam heralded the approach of his previous savior.
Harry shut his eyes again as the hot breath of the basilisk seared his feet. "Fawkes, please!" he whispered.
The song swelled, vibrating all over his body, and a sudden fierce pain tore through him. He cried out, certain the serpent had him. His scar was on fire.
And then he felt his bones shift, lengthening, growing hollow. His lips were gone, something sharp and hard in their place. His eyes flew open, and everything looked different, sharper and clearer. His hands slipped free of the basilisk's flesh as feathers sprouted from his arms, blossoming red and gold. To keep from falling, he dug his feet, his talons into the serpent's hide.
The fanged head drew back, a look of startled surprise in the huge yellow eyes. Harry tried to call out to Death once more, but a burst of wild golden song broke free instead, and he suddenly understood.
He was the phoenix.
Harry pushed off the basilisk's side, tearing the scales as he did so. He flung his wings open, catching a rising draft of warm air, spiraled up and up and up…and then folded the wings against his sides with a snap and plummeted down toward the serpentine head, needle-sharp gold beak leading.
And with a snap and a thunderous hiss, the basilisk vanished, leaving the stairs in its place once more.
Harry braked with wings and tail, landing on the stairs with a thump, and sat a moment, panting.
Well done, said Death's soft voice.
"Fat lot of help you were," Harry tried to say indignantly, but it came out as a plaintive trill.
Thanatos sent him a wave of mixed irritation and amusement. I cannot tell you how to fight your battles, Harry. I warned you of the danger. And what if I had said to you, 'transform into a phoenix'? Do you think you would have been able to do so on my word?
Harry didn't have an answer for this, so he changed the subject, "Am I stuck like this?" The song was a mournful, rippling cry.
Of course not. You shifted yourself. You can shift back. But I advise you to remain in that form for now. He will attack again.
"Then I suppose I had better keep moving," Harry looked up the long flight of stairs a moment, then walked to the edge and leaped off, catching another draft and rising upward with a flap of his wings.
Flying, he found, was difficult work, particularly when you were trying to gain altitude, and he had to alight and rest often. But at the same time, the feeling of being airborne was glorious beyond any physical sensation he had ever known. "Will I be able to do this in real life?" He cried out to Thanatos in a rush of music, "Does this mean I'm an animagus?"
I'm afraid not, Harry, Death sounded amused, If you had merely undergone an animagic transformation, you would not automatically know how to fly. With practice, you may learn to take a similar form in 'real life', as you put it, but I would not count on your natural animagus form being a phoenix. It is rare for animagi to take the forms of supernatural creatures. Although… Death added softly, a phoenix is rather appropriate for you, I think.
If his beak could have formed the expression, Harry would have beamed at the compliment, but any reply he might have made was cut off by a sudden icy pain on the back of his neck. He made a musical sound of distress, his flight faltering momentarily.
What is it, Harry?
"Something hit me…cold…the…air currents are changing…" the thermals beneath his wings were growing weaker and chillier, and Harry was forced to flap harder to keep aloft. A sudden blast of cold air blew him away from the steps, and he cried out with surprised pain. "The cold! It hurts!"
You are a phoenix--you are elementally opposed to the cold in this form. Quickly, get to the steps and shift back!
Wordlessly, Harry fought against the cold air, beating his wings wildly, trying to ignore the stabs of icy pain that began to pelt his neck and back. In the gloom he could see glimmers of soft white drifting downward around him. Snow. It was snowing.
The snowflakes fell thicker and faster, and the wind drove them into his face. They stung his eyes, leaving him blinded and in agony. He struggled to keep aloft, buffeted by the storm. "I can't! I can't reach the stairs!"
Try to shift again, Death called over the howling wind.
"Into what?? No bird could fly in this wind!" His wings felt as though they were about to fall off, and he was rapidly losing altitude. There was an icy coating over his feathers. His fire was being extinguished.
Fire, he thought wildly, and cried out in desperation, "The Firebolt! Accio!"
His body shifted again, red gold feathers pouring off of him. They hovered in midair a moment, and he, in his ordinary human form now, began to plummet. The feathers floating above him melded into one clean line of fiery red, which quickly sprouted the flawlessly tapered bristles of his racing broom.
"Accio!" He shouted again, hoping the spell would work without his wand. The broom's fore-end dipped, and it dove toward him, looping up under his stomach. He struck it with bruising force, doubling over it and clutching the handle. It felt hot beneath his fingers.
He wheezed for a moment, the breath having been knocked out of him, then slung his leg over the handle, settling in the proper flying position. The wind and snow still buffeted him, but now the cold was not so painful. He had flown in bad weather before.
Harry bent low over the broomstick and began to spiral upward again, slicing determinedly through the gale. His chest and ribs hurt.
Good…very good… Thanatos' voice was a little weaker than usual, and he sounded relieved. I think you had better land, Harry, and exit the stairwell. You are too exposed here.
"I think I've broken something," Harry rasped, landing clumsily on the stairs, which were now slick with ice.
Are you in much pain?
He leaned on his broom a little, "I need a rest."
Not here. Push on the wall at the next landing. With any luck, there will be a door.
The young wizard crept cautiously up the next dozen stairs to the landing, then prodded the wall with the handle of his broom. The stones slid aside in a way reminiscent of the entrance to Diagon Alley. The hallway beyond was dark and warm. Harry stumbled into it gratefully and sank to the floor, clutching his side with one hand and the Firebolt with the other. The stones slid back into place behind him.
There was a long silence, then Thanatos said, I am sorry, Harry. I had hoped you could reach your destination without being noticed by him. I did not intend for you to sustain such injury.
"I think I've had worse. I play Quidditch, remember?" He managed a smile, recalling broken arms and 50-foot falls.
Perhaps. Can you go on? Death's voice was distant and dispassionate.
"Wouldn't it be just as hard to go back at this point?"
Yes and no. The choice is yours.
"I thought you said Voldemort would never be defeated if I didn't do this? That's not much of a choice if you ask me. You were all gung-ho to begin with, what's changed?"
I did not believe there was a serious risk to your life initially. You have already sustained significant astral damage, and you are in danger of receiving more. And you have told me to take you if you are injured to the point of insanity. I will be held by that oath. But I am Death, Harry. It is unfair for me to request that a mortal risk his life for my sake.
"Is that it?"
There was hesitation in Thanatos' voice. I…have also attended school with you. I reordered reality so that you would not recall those years--they did not, in fact, happen to you--but I retain the memories of Mateo Theofanos, my avatar. You are a good friend, Harry. I would prefer not to see you…hurt beyond recall. Nor do I wish to take you so young.
"Why didn't you let me live those years, too?" It wasn't fair, really, because in retrospect the stories he had heard from Ron and Hermione sounded rather pleasant.
If you had remembered five years of my acquaintance, you would not have been easily convinced that I am Death. It was meant to be a sort of demonstration of power…evidence to convince you of the reality of the situation. I fear, however, that I miscalculated the impact on myself.
"How do you mean?"
The human that is touched by the Divine will never again be the same. In the same way, the Divine that has become human is altered permanently. But do not mistake me. I do not regret it, nor will I, unless it leads to permanent injury for you.
Harry was silent. There was reserved but sincere affection in Thanatos' voice, and it surprised him. "I…need to do this," he said at last. "Seeing my parents…and not seeing Cedric…made me realize how important this is. Besides, he's going to keep coming for me, isn't he? For whatever reason, he wants me dead. Even if I don't succeed here, I'll be seeing him again. And if I stay, I can learn more about him. Maybe it'll help when we meet again."
When… Thanatos sounded pensive. Do you believe in Fate, Harry?
"I don't think so. Not really. But I also don't believe Dumbledore can protect me forever. Sooner or later it'll end. Hopefully later, though, because I'll have a better chance against him as a grown wizard." He was silent a moment, "What about you? Do you believe in Fate?"
I know Fate personally. All three of Her. Unfortunately, Atropos is the only one who will speak to me about anything of significance.
Harry said nothing for a moment, then stood slowly, "I'm not even going to question that. I think I should get moving again."
Still in pain?
"A bit, but I'll manage. I've had worse." Using his broomstick as a support, Harry continued down the dark hall. "Where are we now?"
You are somewhere between Voldemort's memories and his thoughts.
"Like…his subconscious?"
Mmm…you might call it that.
"No wonder it's so dark…Thanatos? If I'm inside his mind, could I…you know…control it somehow?"
You wish to control the Darklord's mind? Death sounded very surprised.
"Maybe. If I could stop him killing people…or make him turn himself in, or…"
I would advise against the attempt. You have not the experience. Yet.
Harry started to answer, then paused as a chilly draft hit his face. He reached out with one hand and felt along the wall beside him. His fingers slipped over the edge of a doorway and felt nothing. He felt forward with his broom and encountered empty air below, as well. "It just…stops…I could have fallen…" he said weakly.
But you did not. Use the broom, since you still have it. Try casting a light-spell.
Harry mounted the Firebolt carefully, then pushed off the edge of the doorway into empty air. He paused a moment, hovering, then whispered uncertainly, "Lumos."
A ball of watery white light appeared over his right shoulder.
Nicely done, said Thanatos.
"Why does it work without a wand?" Harry asked. "Just because of will?"
Will and belief. They are much stronger forces than you may think. The latter, in fact, sustains most of the Personifications and demigods in existence, including myself.
"Belief does?"
Oh, yes. People would not cease to die if they did not believe in me, but I would cease to be…this. I would be a something, not a someone. And I would be far more terrifying and implacable as such. As long as mortals depict me as anything other than a simple force, whether it be a skeleton bearing a scythe, a black horse with bat's wings, or a pretty young woman wearing an ankh…as long as mortals see me as something akin to them, I am, in fact, akin. Nectar and ambrosia, the food of the Olympian gods, were not made from any corporeal substance, but the belief of the humans that worshipped them.
Harry was silent, taking this in as he flew slowly forward into the darkness. His light seemed to be doing little good; either it was too weak, or there was nothing around him to see.
And that is what makes Voldemort so dangerous. He believes himself a god. As for his Death-Eaters, Thanatos spoke the title with scorn, they lend him power by their belief in him. This world needs no more devils.
Harry nodded distractedly, then gasped as his light reflected off something ahead of him. It was a column of white bone, so long that both its upper and lower ends vanished into darkness. The young wizard circled it slowly. "What," he asked softly, "is this?"
Something that should not be trifled with, Death said calmly. Pass it by, Harry.
"No, wait…we're going up, right? It's so dark here I can't see where I'm going…if I just follow it up…" He urged the Firebolt upward, spiraling around the column.
I do not think you wish to see the rest of it. Can you extinguish your light? Fly blind?
"I might fly into it. I'm okay, Thanatos. After going through his memories, how much worse can it be?" Harry looked up and saw an odd growth coming off the bone like a fungus. It was slightly pinker than the column around which it grew. Above and below it, something dark red glistened.
Worse? I think not. Distracting, however. I would prefer that you did not--
"Merlin!" Harry gasped, "It's a giant *hand*!" As he drew closer to the pinkish growth, he could make out the pale sprouting hairs, the cracked fingernails, and the severed tendons hanging from where the wrist should have been. The column seemed to have been thrust through the hand, and there was dried blood on the skin and the bone. His stomach lurched. This hand…could it be some sort of simulacrum of Wormtail's sacrifice? Flesh, bone…and blood. His blood. He jerked the broom upward to see what lay on the palm, and felt Thanatos wince.
A man-sized sphere of something that looked almost like tinted red glass lay on the platform made by the hand. It, too, was pierced by the bone, and there was a figure moving within it. Harry approached cautiously and landed lightly on the thumb. Walking on the dead flesh was disturbing.
Please turn back, Harry. Death said, with little hope in his voice.
But Harry had caught a glimpse of a white gown and long red hair, and he ran forward, pressing his palms against the hard, hot surface of the red sphere. "Mum!" he exclaimed.
"Harry…?" the woman's voice was muffled, but she pushed against the side of the sphere to meet him, placing her palm on the red barrier across from his. Her eyes were bright green, with long lashes, like his. She looked only a few years older than he. "What are you doing here? This isn't safe!"
Rationally, he knew she wasn't really his mother. Like the Heiress he had met earlier, she was only the personification of the protection left behind by a willing sacrifice. Still, his heart swelled with awe and joy as he stared raptly into her worried face. "Mum," he whispered again, "I didn't know you were here…"
A/N: Much thanks to all those who reviewed! I'd like to apologize for the lateness of this update, and for not including responses to reviews. I've been a bit overwhelmed with creative projects (actually, this is usually the case), and I also wanted to take a bit of time to give OoTP a good, thorough reading to pick up on foreshadowing and nuances therein. I was a bit shaken by the character death, as well, as the deceased was one of my favorites. I won't go into specifics here, though I suspect anyone out reading fanfic has finished the book by now, or at least heard rumors enough to be immune to spoilers.
I actually completed this chapter a few weeks ago, but I hadn't posted it because I wanted to respond to reviews as usual. Well, time has gone by and I haven't found time for detailed responses yet, and it occurred to me that most reviewers would probably prefer a new chapter as soon as possible. To those who feel differently, let me apologize again. I intend to continue to respond to reviews, as I think the dialogue between writers and readers is one of the best aspect of ff.net and similar fiction sites, but just this once, it's not going to happen. If there's a question you've left in your last review that you still want addressed, feel free to reiterate it in another review, or to email me, and I'll answer it next update (or email you back).
But to answer a question I've gotten repeatedly (because I'm a slow updater to begin with and I've been even slower than usual lately): Yes, I intend to continue this story all the way to the end. It may take me a very long time at this rate, but I haven't given up. Moreover, if I do give up I'll post an author's note to that effect. So be of good cheer and don't despair and all that. ;-)
A couple readers have noted similarities between this story and Neil Gaiman's Sandman series. I can't help but be flattered by the comparison. I've read most of the Sandman comics (in the form of trade paperbacks pilfered from my girlfriend's bookshelf). The parallels here are unintentional (or at least subconscious), but probably inevitable considering the power of Gaiman's characters and storytelling, and the fact that I'm writing about a personified Death. So I hereby acknowledge my creative debt. And anyone who hasn't read the Sandman really should. ^_^