A/N: Next chapter! Do I say that every time or is it just me? Anyway, here
it is. Enjoy.
Chapter 7: Back to Forgotten Times
Could I be you?
Something is wrong with the sum of us
That I can't seem to erase
How I can I be the only one
With out a smile on my face?
You show your pain
Like it really hurts
And I can't even
Start to feel mine
I'm standing in place
With my head first and I shake, I shake
And I see your progress
Stretched out for miles and miles
And you're laughing out loud
At the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
-Matchbox 20
Harry came into being again with a faint pop. He could feel himself shaking. Angry again, he pushed it away. With the fear gone, Harry noticed with a jolt that he had not appeared in the place originally intended. He had been so desperate to get out of there that he had not properly focused his energies and had inadvertently appeared in the last place he wanted to be. Had he been Apparating, he would have been splenched.
He drew his cloak around him and slid back into the shadows. Had it not been so late, the Gryffindor common room would no doubt have been full of people and his appearance there would not have gone unnoticed.
As it was, the common room still played host to three people. At that moment, a shout sounded out and a skinny boy with jet black hair and a small, lightning bolt burned across his forehead, sat up strait and opened startling green eyes. He looked wildly around him. "Ron!" he said. A figure in the chair across from him stirred. A book and a piece of parchment fell off his lap.
"Harry?" grumbled the figure. It opened its eyes. "Are we in the common room?"
The younger Harry blinked and looked around. "I suppose we are. We must have fallen asleep. Hermione has too."
A figure with bushy brown hair sat in her chair, her head tilted sideways and her book slanted at an odd angle.
"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. "I had a dream, is all. A very real dream, too." he trailed off. Ron appeared suddenly wide awake. He sat up straighter.
"Was it.You-Know-Who?"
Harry frowned. "At the beginning. But I really don't remember much of that."
"Was it a vision?" Ron asked. "What's going on?"
"Calm down, Ron!" Harry whispered, tilting his head at Hermione. "Don't wake her up. She'll just tell me to go to Dumbledore."
"About what?" Ron said, annoyed "You're keeping me in the dark!"
"Sorry," Harry said apologetically. His eyes clouded over, remembering the dream. "We had gone to Hogsmeade."
"Like this weekend?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, in fact, a lot like this weekend. We even had that new chocolate from Honeydukes. I know because I sat there eating it while you got your letter from the post office."
"That doesn't sound so terrible," Ron said shrugging. "You got to eat extra chocolate, right?"
"That's not everything that happened," Harry said. He felt like he was going to be sick. Everything came back clearly, more like a memory than a dream. "Your letter-it wasn't a letter. It was a photograph. And on it." Harry couldn't go on. The ghastly image burned into his mind.
"What was it?" Ron asked, clearly not wanting to know yet at the same time, curiosity getting the better of him.
Harry shook his head, trying to rid himself of the picture of all the Weasleys-dead.
Hermione stirred. Harry looked at her and Older Harry clearly saw pain etched in his features. He had seen her parents die as well.
She opened her eyes and looked at them, confused. She suddenly sat up and looked around. "Are we in the common room?"
Harry nodded, looking a little sick. He shook his head.
"What's wrong with you?" She asked.
"He had a nightmare," Ron said quietly. "I just haven't heard the scariest part."
Hermione looked concerned but at the same time tried to look fully awake. "Was it a vision, Harry?"
Harry shook his head. "It was more like.a memory. I know it sounds stupid."
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand here and watch all this happen. Just seeing Hermione again tested his strength, but to see everyone in a room.
Harry couldn't bring himself to look at his younger form's face. He knew so little about what lay in his future, yet at the same time, he didn't have that look of pain that Harry always seemed to come with the memories of that time. He wore his pain like it actually hurt. In less than a year, he would learn how to tune it out. It seemed easier that way-to be cold and unfeeling. The pain that had been so brutally thrust upon him limited his abilities. If you could just tune it out, he could be convinced that everything had happened for the best. Harry could no longer begin to feel that pain. It had vanished, less than a memory because the memory itself had slowly begun to fade because of the continued passage of time.
Harry suddenly laughed. "I'm being ridiculous. It was just a nightmare. I'm making too big a deal of this."
Hermione and Ron cast each other uneasy looks.
"I'm fine," Harry assured them. "I just had a regular nightmare and it's been such a long time that I didn't see it for what it was."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"Yes," Harry said exasperatedly. "It was just a pointless nightmare."
Silence followed for a moment before Ron said suddenly. "Did you see that look Snape gave you in class today when you finished your potion early?"
Hermione laughed. "I saw that! I don't think Harry did, did you? You were probably mad at Snape for giving you detention and refusing to look at him."
Harry grinned. "Why? What did he do?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," Ron said grinning. "It was the I-hate-that-funny- Potter-kid-who-actually-made-a-good-potion-for-once-and-I-can't-critize-it look."
"Oh that look," Harry said. "I should have guessed!"
Everyone laughed.
Harry found himself watching intently-taking in every word. But that feeling had returned, that carefully controlled feeling that he had tried for so long to block out, to destroy. It ached inside of him with a pain he no longer remembered. He found himself involuntarily thinking, if I could have just one night, to have everything back.
The pain intensified so that it threatened to overwhelm him. Angry at himself for his weakness, for feeling sorry for himself-something he had long since decided didn't help-Harry waved his hand and vanished. He appeared back in his hotel room and slumped onto his bed, thoroughly exhausted.
Nothing happened that had happened to him, happened now. If Malfoy hadn't opened that portal.
Harry suddenly sat up straight. Malfoy! He had completely forgotten! He's probably trying to reopen the portal again to try and bring Voldemort into the future! He would have free rein with Harry out of the picture. He had to get back! He forced himself to take a deep breath.
"That's ridiculous," Harry said out loud to himself, frowning. "I can just go forward to my time to the exact second I disappeared and stop him then." He couldn't stop that nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. Shaking his head, he summoned a potion to him with a wave of his hand.
His alarm's red beam showed the time to be 2:00 in the morning, but he couldn't stay. Voldemort's search did not rest and he couldn't be in one place too long. Voldemort could be unimaginably close and he would not know it. He'd rather not have another confrontation. Voldemort wouldn't let him disappear so easily again.
He chugged the potion and immediately felt all traces of tiredness leave him. Summoning his possessions to him, he stuffed what little he had into his pockets and went to the lobby to check out.
The woman talked animatedly on the phone when he arrived, immersed in what appeared to be an obviously important call.
"He didn't! I can't believe him! Why would he say such a thing? But of course you called it off. What? You're still with him? What are you playing at? If a guy did that to me-"
"Excuse me," Harry said impatiently. "I'm ready to check out."
"Just a minute, Valerie," the woman said to her friend on the phone. "It's two o'clock in the morning. Check-out times are from 4 to 11. Can't you read?" She went back to her call. "Sorry, Val. Some guy wanting to check out. That's what I told him, but he didn't seem to think it important. So, where were we? Oh yeah! So-"
Harry reached up and pressed the little button that hung up the phone. The woman looked enraged. "Do you have any idea how much I could sue you for that?"
"Nothing," Harry said coldly. "I'm ready to check out now. You will check me out."
The woman looked angry, but Harry wore his angry look that very few in the world had ever attempted to go against and she proved to be no exception to the rule.
"Fine!" She huffed. "Do you want me to say you checked out at 4?"
"I don't care what you put as long as I no longer have to speak to you for the rest of my life," Harry said coldly. "Now click that little button that says I will not be here tomorrow."
The woman began typing furiously. The next moment the computer shut off.
"What?" the woman asked, looking around in alarm. "What did you do?"
"I did nothing," Harry said coldly. "You took too long."
The lights went out as well. Harry found himself completely in the dark. His eyes being useless, he closed them and concentrated his energy into finding the exact locations of each of the Death Eaters in the room.
"What's going on?" the woman said. "What's happening? Whose there?" She suddenly screamed. Harry distinctly heard someone whisper, "Your worst nightmare." Before there was a flash of green light and the woman slumped into her chair, dead.
"Harry Potter," said a voice. Harry zoomed in on it. The person was standing about 5 feet behind him. He turned around as silently as if he had not moved at all.
"Lucius Malfoy," Harry said calmly. "Fancy seeing you here. I had no idea you were worth being broken out of Azkaban so soon."
Harry could tell he'd hit a nerve. These people constantly surprised him at how easily they angered. "It's been 2 years!"
"I rest my case," Harry said.
"Were you not of invaluable importance to my master, I would kill you where you stand," Malfoy snarled.
"I remember a similar threat made by your master earlier tonight and I'm still alive, do you fancy yourself better than the half blood you choose to serve?"
Malfoy seemed to use every ounce of control he possessed to keep his temper in check.
Harry used the time this gave him to search for others in the room. He found nothing. Malfoy had come alone. He would pay for his oversight.
"My master is greater than you shall ever hope to be!" Malfoy snarled.
"Your master is less than the mere minimum I could ever hope to become," Harry said, enjoying toying with this man. "He is a pathetic excuse for an arch-wizard."
"You will pay for that comment!" Malfoy said.
"And who will make me pay?" Harry asked, smirking in the dark so that it went unseen.
"I!" Malfoy said. Harry sensed him raising his wand and instantly appeared three feet from where he had been. The green curse illuminated the room and Malfoy saw how far away his aim had been.
"You and what army?" Harry asked with a laugh. "You are an arrogant fool."
Malfoy took aim and again the deadly curse missed its mark. Harry now appeared on the opposite side of Malfoy.
"I have no cause to dodge those," Harry said lazily. Malfoy spun around. "You see, Malfoy, as your master will inevitably learn, such a curse has no effect on me. In fact, it would be in your best interest not to attempt such a curse on me."
"You speak too much," Malfoy said sneeringly. "I shall tell my master of everything you say!"
"You will be in no condition to speak when I am though with you," Harry threatened. "Much less tell your master any word I say."
"We shall see!" Malfoy said. Once again he raised his wand and once again his missed by feet.
"It's not working, Malfoy," Harry said, bored. "Try something else."
Malfoy's anger had become ridiculous. "I'll kill you, Potter!"
"Now it's just getting pathetic," Harry said. "In a five-hundred years it's gone from, 'Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out. Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, and do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on' to 'I'll kill you!' Tut, it seems very crude for a man of your stature."
"Shakespeare," Malfoy said, smirking, his anger abated. "Hamlet, I believe."
"Very good," Harry said smirking. "You would think 2 years in Azkaban might have stomped some sophistication out of you."
Malfoy scowled. "You have much to learn, Potter. For you have never felt the pure wrath of the dementors else you would not mock their powers."
Harry threw his head back and laughed. "Is that so, Malfoy?" He asked loudly. "I have not known the suffering of the dementors, have I? You are so ignorant that it isn't worth my time to stop you because you'll eventually die from some other wand!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Malfoy hissed.
"And you underestimate me," Harry said coldly. "It's almost sad. I thought better of you."
"You underestimate me!" Malfoy said. "You have no right to mock me as you are!"
"I know you, Malfoy. I have known you for far longer than you deserved to be known. I know your tricks. I know your weaknesses. I know your strengths. I know your thoughts. I know every little thing that you could possibly think to be an advantage. I know your very secrets. I know what you're plotting. I know more than you want any man at this time to know."
Malfoy took a step back. Normally he wouldn't have believed a word of it, but the tone in Harry's voice stated plainly that he did not jest.
Harry sensed his hesitation and attacked. With a wave of his hand Malfoy went flying into the far wall. He hit it with tremendous force and clearly fought hard against unconsciousness. All the angry feelings Harry had felt that night came out. Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand at the beginning and he left it untouched until Harry finally stopped himself. Malfoy looked a wreck. He lay unconscious, but not dead. Grabbing his wand that had remained untouched throughout the battle and, with a wave, Malfoy's memory vanished.
Harry whispered a charm and held out his hand, palm up. A small ball of golden energy formed in his hand and it looked as if small wisps of silvery clouds came from the very air and sucked into the ball. When no more wisps came, Harry blew on the ball in one, quick puff. A flash of light illuminated the room and instead of a ball of energy, a small glass sphere the size of a marble which seemed to be full of white smoke appeared. As Harry held it in his palm, the smoke inside suddenly turned scarlet. Scowling, Harry dropped the Remembrall into his pocket and, with a wave of his wand, the lights came back on. He already knew he had forgotten something. He had been trying to remember it from the beginning and he didn't need a glass ball of memory to tell him that.
He didn't look at the dead Muggle. The telephone suddenly rang. That must be her friend. Harry closed his eyes against the horrible crime that had been committed. He couldn't understand why everything began to mean more to him than it used to. Scowling again, he turned on his heal and swept out of the battleground that had previously been a hotel lobby.
He felt more comfortable in the dark than most people. People feared what they didn't know and in the dark, they couldn't see anything well enough to realize the difference between appearance and reality. Harry belonged in the dark. He didn't need eyes to tell him things. The darkness made sure that he alone knew everything hidden and no other knew the truth.
Tonight, however, the comforting blackness didn't help him as much as he had hoped it would. On the contrary, he kept picturing the safety of the common room. The fire burning low and giving the room a strangely unreal look, casting shadows in the corners that appeared to be more like comforting pockets of blissful ignorance as opposed to eerie shadows of unknown fear. He immersed so deeply in his thoughts that he failed to be on his toes as much as he should have been and consequently didn't feel the new presence until its force had heighten considerably. .
Cursing, he raised he hand, ready to strike.
"I didn't come to hurt you, Harry," said a wizened old voice. Harry lowered his hand. Dumbledore.
"What do you want," he asked coldly.
"I came to find you," he said simply.
"I'm here," Harry said.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "And two hours ago Death Eaters stormed Hogwarts."
Harry frowned. "No, they didn't."
"They did," Dumbledore said, his piercing blue eyes looking deep into Harry's. "There were few casualties. One, however, was a major target."
"Me," Harry said simply. "Tell me something, Dumbledore. If I told you that you were supposed to be dead by now, would you believe me?"
"I would," Dumbledore said. He didn't seem surprised.
"I suppose tonight was the night you were supposed to die," Harry said, looking into the slowly lightening horizon. "And Voldemort didn't come after you because he was concerned with my portal. Damn it, Dumbledore! The more I try to keep history unchanged the more I fail miserably! I suppose Lupin portkeyed me to safety?"
"He did."
"Then I haven't caused too much damage."
"On the contrary," Dumbledore said quietly. "You have been more of a help than a hindrance."
"But for how long?" Harry asked. "Do you honestly think that every little mess up I do here will have no effect on the future? What if, because of everything I've done causes Voldemort to defeat me? It's like giving Voldemort a second chance."
"I have to have faith that there was some reason the portal would not let you go back to your own time," Dumbledore said. Harry did not ask how he knew. "Perhaps there's a greater purpose for you being here."
"Or perhaps there isn't," Harry said. He scratched his wrist. It was itching. It hadn't hurt since Voldemort had been destroyed. He looked down and the cobra looked up at him, ready, as always, to strike. It was just another of the many scars Voldemort had left him.
"I suppose you have no reason to want to help, do you?" Dumbledore asked. "I have no idea what ails the child."
"He's not a child," Harry said coldly. "And no, I have no wish to help."
"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "You don't want to interfere."
"I don't want to be here!" Harry yelled suddenly. "You have no idea, how could you?"
"I know what it is like," Dumbledore said quietly. "To think the entire world has been placed upon your shoulders. I know what it's like to have lost far more than you could ever hope to gain. I have been beaten down more times than you have years. But the difference, Harry, is that I have never once turned my back on all those who love me."
"Is that so?" Harry said quietly. "Then why is it you turned your back on me?"
"I never did that, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "You may use that as an excuse to hate the world, but just because a person dies, doesn't mean they are not with you every moment of every day."
"Where were you when Voldemort was gone?" Harry asked, practically shouting. The pain was starting to hurt again and he was angry, not at Dumbledore, but as his weakness, showing its face again. "Where were you those three days I was left dying slowly? Where was anyone?"
"We were right there with you," Dumbledore said firmly. "You are strong, Harry, but you have so much to learn. If you were dying, then why was it you lasted three days longer than you should have? We were there for you every minute of it. And where are you now that your younger self is in pain? We can do nothing for him. It is Voldemort's curse and we cannot break through."
"He must save himself," Harry said. "I did."
"The past is different. You said so yourself."
"Not this," Harry said. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist where, many years ago on that very day, he too had been under Voldemort's curse. He frowned and quickly removed his hand when he realized what he was doing.
"He's in a lot of pain," Dumbledore said.
"He's not. He just doesn't know what's going on."
"Then why is he screaming in his sleep?"
Harry looked sharply at the old man. "I did not scream."
"The past has been altered," Dumbledore said. "This time he might not wake. If you do nothing, he may die and all of time will be ended. Voldemort will rule the world."
Harry contemplated what he could do. He could either go help, or he could stay here and do nothing. He knew what he had to do.
"Take me to him."
A/N: Bum Bum Bum!!!!!! Cliffy! Bwahahahahaha! Oh, that was me possessed, by the way.
Gil: I couldn't tell.
Me: That was sarcasm.
Gil: No s*** Sherlock.
Me: Language!
Gil: I used *!
Me: Whatever... Please review! Reviews are good! They make me happy!
Chapter 7: Back to Forgotten Times
Could I be you?
Something is wrong with the sum of us
That I can't seem to erase
How I can I be the only one
With out a smile on my face?
You show your pain
Like it really hurts
And I can't even
Start to feel mine
I'm standing in place
With my head first and I shake, I shake
And I see your progress
Stretched out for miles and miles
And you're laughing out loud
At the thought of being alive
And I was wondering
Could I just be you tonight?
-Matchbox 20
Harry came into being again with a faint pop. He could feel himself shaking. Angry again, he pushed it away. With the fear gone, Harry noticed with a jolt that he had not appeared in the place originally intended. He had been so desperate to get out of there that he had not properly focused his energies and had inadvertently appeared in the last place he wanted to be. Had he been Apparating, he would have been splenched.
He drew his cloak around him and slid back into the shadows. Had it not been so late, the Gryffindor common room would no doubt have been full of people and his appearance there would not have gone unnoticed.
As it was, the common room still played host to three people. At that moment, a shout sounded out and a skinny boy with jet black hair and a small, lightning bolt burned across his forehead, sat up strait and opened startling green eyes. He looked wildly around him. "Ron!" he said. A figure in the chair across from him stirred. A book and a piece of parchment fell off his lap.
"Harry?" grumbled the figure. It opened its eyes. "Are we in the common room?"
The younger Harry blinked and looked around. "I suppose we are. We must have fallen asleep. Hermione has too."
A figure with bushy brown hair sat in her chair, her head tilted sideways and her book slanted at an odd angle.
"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked quietly.
Harry shook his head. "I had a dream, is all. A very real dream, too." he trailed off. Ron appeared suddenly wide awake. He sat up straighter.
"Was it.You-Know-Who?"
Harry frowned. "At the beginning. But I really don't remember much of that."
"Was it a vision?" Ron asked. "What's going on?"
"Calm down, Ron!" Harry whispered, tilting his head at Hermione. "Don't wake her up. She'll just tell me to go to Dumbledore."
"About what?" Ron said, annoyed "You're keeping me in the dark!"
"Sorry," Harry said apologetically. His eyes clouded over, remembering the dream. "We had gone to Hogsmeade."
"Like this weekend?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, in fact, a lot like this weekend. We even had that new chocolate from Honeydukes. I know because I sat there eating it while you got your letter from the post office."
"That doesn't sound so terrible," Ron said shrugging. "You got to eat extra chocolate, right?"
"That's not everything that happened," Harry said. He felt like he was going to be sick. Everything came back clearly, more like a memory than a dream. "Your letter-it wasn't a letter. It was a photograph. And on it." Harry couldn't go on. The ghastly image burned into his mind.
"What was it?" Ron asked, clearly not wanting to know yet at the same time, curiosity getting the better of him.
Harry shook his head, trying to rid himself of the picture of all the Weasleys-dead.
Hermione stirred. Harry looked at her and Older Harry clearly saw pain etched in his features. He had seen her parents die as well.
She opened her eyes and looked at them, confused. She suddenly sat up and looked around. "Are we in the common room?"
Harry nodded, looking a little sick. He shook his head.
"What's wrong with you?" She asked.
"He had a nightmare," Ron said quietly. "I just haven't heard the scariest part."
Hermione looked concerned but at the same time tried to look fully awake. "Was it a vision, Harry?"
Harry shook his head. "It was more like.a memory. I know it sounds stupid."
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.
Harry couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand here and watch all this happen. Just seeing Hermione again tested his strength, but to see everyone in a room.
Harry couldn't bring himself to look at his younger form's face. He knew so little about what lay in his future, yet at the same time, he didn't have that look of pain that Harry always seemed to come with the memories of that time. He wore his pain like it actually hurt. In less than a year, he would learn how to tune it out. It seemed easier that way-to be cold and unfeeling. The pain that had been so brutally thrust upon him limited his abilities. If you could just tune it out, he could be convinced that everything had happened for the best. Harry could no longer begin to feel that pain. It had vanished, less than a memory because the memory itself had slowly begun to fade because of the continued passage of time.
Harry suddenly laughed. "I'm being ridiculous. It was just a nightmare. I'm making too big a deal of this."
Hermione and Ron cast each other uneasy looks.
"I'm fine," Harry assured them. "I just had a regular nightmare and it's been such a long time that I didn't see it for what it was."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"Yes," Harry said exasperatedly. "It was just a pointless nightmare."
Silence followed for a moment before Ron said suddenly. "Did you see that look Snape gave you in class today when you finished your potion early?"
Hermione laughed. "I saw that! I don't think Harry did, did you? You were probably mad at Snape for giving you detention and refusing to look at him."
Harry grinned. "Why? What did he do?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," Ron said grinning. "It was the I-hate-that-funny- Potter-kid-who-actually-made-a-good-potion-for-once-and-I-can't-critize-it look."
"Oh that look," Harry said. "I should have guessed!"
Everyone laughed.
Harry found himself watching intently-taking in every word. But that feeling had returned, that carefully controlled feeling that he had tried for so long to block out, to destroy. It ached inside of him with a pain he no longer remembered. He found himself involuntarily thinking, if I could have just one night, to have everything back.
The pain intensified so that it threatened to overwhelm him. Angry at himself for his weakness, for feeling sorry for himself-something he had long since decided didn't help-Harry waved his hand and vanished. He appeared back in his hotel room and slumped onto his bed, thoroughly exhausted.
Nothing happened that had happened to him, happened now. If Malfoy hadn't opened that portal.
Harry suddenly sat up straight. Malfoy! He had completely forgotten! He's probably trying to reopen the portal again to try and bring Voldemort into the future! He would have free rein with Harry out of the picture. He had to get back! He forced himself to take a deep breath.
"That's ridiculous," Harry said out loud to himself, frowning. "I can just go forward to my time to the exact second I disappeared and stop him then." He couldn't stop that nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. Shaking his head, he summoned a potion to him with a wave of his hand.
His alarm's red beam showed the time to be 2:00 in the morning, but he couldn't stay. Voldemort's search did not rest and he couldn't be in one place too long. Voldemort could be unimaginably close and he would not know it. He'd rather not have another confrontation. Voldemort wouldn't let him disappear so easily again.
He chugged the potion and immediately felt all traces of tiredness leave him. Summoning his possessions to him, he stuffed what little he had into his pockets and went to the lobby to check out.
The woman talked animatedly on the phone when he arrived, immersed in what appeared to be an obviously important call.
"He didn't! I can't believe him! Why would he say such a thing? But of course you called it off. What? You're still with him? What are you playing at? If a guy did that to me-"
"Excuse me," Harry said impatiently. "I'm ready to check out."
"Just a minute, Valerie," the woman said to her friend on the phone. "It's two o'clock in the morning. Check-out times are from 4 to 11. Can't you read?" She went back to her call. "Sorry, Val. Some guy wanting to check out. That's what I told him, but he didn't seem to think it important. So, where were we? Oh yeah! So-"
Harry reached up and pressed the little button that hung up the phone. The woman looked enraged. "Do you have any idea how much I could sue you for that?"
"Nothing," Harry said coldly. "I'm ready to check out now. You will check me out."
The woman looked angry, but Harry wore his angry look that very few in the world had ever attempted to go against and she proved to be no exception to the rule.
"Fine!" She huffed. "Do you want me to say you checked out at 4?"
"I don't care what you put as long as I no longer have to speak to you for the rest of my life," Harry said coldly. "Now click that little button that says I will not be here tomorrow."
The woman began typing furiously. The next moment the computer shut off.
"What?" the woman asked, looking around in alarm. "What did you do?"
"I did nothing," Harry said coldly. "You took too long."
The lights went out as well. Harry found himself completely in the dark. His eyes being useless, he closed them and concentrated his energy into finding the exact locations of each of the Death Eaters in the room.
"What's going on?" the woman said. "What's happening? Whose there?" She suddenly screamed. Harry distinctly heard someone whisper, "Your worst nightmare." Before there was a flash of green light and the woman slumped into her chair, dead.
"Harry Potter," said a voice. Harry zoomed in on it. The person was standing about 5 feet behind him. He turned around as silently as if he had not moved at all.
"Lucius Malfoy," Harry said calmly. "Fancy seeing you here. I had no idea you were worth being broken out of Azkaban so soon."
Harry could tell he'd hit a nerve. These people constantly surprised him at how easily they angered. "It's been 2 years!"
"I rest my case," Harry said.
"Were you not of invaluable importance to my master, I would kill you where you stand," Malfoy snarled.
"I remember a similar threat made by your master earlier tonight and I'm still alive, do you fancy yourself better than the half blood you choose to serve?"
Malfoy seemed to use every ounce of control he possessed to keep his temper in check.
Harry used the time this gave him to search for others in the room. He found nothing. Malfoy had come alone. He would pay for his oversight.
"My master is greater than you shall ever hope to be!" Malfoy snarled.
"Your master is less than the mere minimum I could ever hope to become," Harry said, enjoying toying with this man. "He is a pathetic excuse for an arch-wizard."
"You will pay for that comment!" Malfoy said.
"And who will make me pay?" Harry asked, smirking in the dark so that it went unseen.
"I!" Malfoy said. Harry sensed him raising his wand and instantly appeared three feet from where he had been. The green curse illuminated the room and Malfoy saw how far away his aim had been.
"You and what army?" Harry asked with a laugh. "You are an arrogant fool."
Malfoy took aim and again the deadly curse missed its mark. Harry now appeared on the opposite side of Malfoy.
"I have no cause to dodge those," Harry said lazily. Malfoy spun around. "You see, Malfoy, as your master will inevitably learn, such a curse has no effect on me. In fact, it would be in your best interest not to attempt such a curse on me."
"You speak too much," Malfoy said sneeringly. "I shall tell my master of everything you say!"
"You will be in no condition to speak when I am though with you," Harry threatened. "Much less tell your master any word I say."
"We shall see!" Malfoy said. Once again he raised his wand and once again his missed by feet.
"It's not working, Malfoy," Harry said, bored. "Try something else."
Malfoy's anger had become ridiculous. "I'll kill you, Potter!"
"Now it's just getting pathetic," Harry said. "In a five-hundred years it's gone from, 'Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out. Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, and do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on' to 'I'll kill you!' Tut, it seems very crude for a man of your stature."
"Shakespeare," Malfoy said, smirking, his anger abated. "Hamlet, I believe."
"Very good," Harry said smirking. "You would think 2 years in Azkaban might have stomped some sophistication out of you."
Malfoy scowled. "You have much to learn, Potter. For you have never felt the pure wrath of the dementors else you would not mock their powers."
Harry threw his head back and laughed. "Is that so, Malfoy?" He asked loudly. "I have not known the suffering of the dementors, have I? You are so ignorant that it isn't worth my time to stop you because you'll eventually die from some other wand!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Malfoy hissed.
"And you underestimate me," Harry said coldly. "It's almost sad. I thought better of you."
"You underestimate me!" Malfoy said. "You have no right to mock me as you are!"
"I know you, Malfoy. I have known you for far longer than you deserved to be known. I know your tricks. I know your weaknesses. I know your strengths. I know your thoughts. I know every little thing that you could possibly think to be an advantage. I know your very secrets. I know what you're plotting. I know more than you want any man at this time to know."
Malfoy took a step back. Normally he wouldn't have believed a word of it, but the tone in Harry's voice stated plainly that he did not jest.
Harry sensed his hesitation and attacked. With a wave of his hand Malfoy went flying into the far wall. He hit it with tremendous force and clearly fought hard against unconsciousness. All the angry feelings Harry had felt that night came out. Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand at the beginning and he left it untouched until Harry finally stopped himself. Malfoy looked a wreck. He lay unconscious, but not dead. Grabbing his wand that had remained untouched throughout the battle and, with a wave, Malfoy's memory vanished.
Harry whispered a charm and held out his hand, palm up. A small ball of golden energy formed in his hand and it looked as if small wisps of silvery clouds came from the very air and sucked into the ball. When no more wisps came, Harry blew on the ball in one, quick puff. A flash of light illuminated the room and instead of a ball of energy, a small glass sphere the size of a marble which seemed to be full of white smoke appeared. As Harry held it in his palm, the smoke inside suddenly turned scarlet. Scowling, Harry dropped the Remembrall into his pocket and, with a wave of his wand, the lights came back on. He already knew he had forgotten something. He had been trying to remember it from the beginning and he didn't need a glass ball of memory to tell him that.
He didn't look at the dead Muggle. The telephone suddenly rang. That must be her friend. Harry closed his eyes against the horrible crime that had been committed. He couldn't understand why everything began to mean more to him than it used to. Scowling again, he turned on his heal and swept out of the battleground that had previously been a hotel lobby.
He felt more comfortable in the dark than most people. People feared what they didn't know and in the dark, they couldn't see anything well enough to realize the difference between appearance and reality. Harry belonged in the dark. He didn't need eyes to tell him things. The darkness made sure that he alone knew everything hidden and no other knew the truth.
Tonight, however, the comforting blackness didn't help him as much as he had hoped it would. On the contrary, he kept picturing the safety of the common room. The fire burning low and giving the room a strangely unreal look, casting shadows in the corners that appeared to be more like comforting pockets of blissful ignorance as opposed to eerie shadows of unknown fear. He immersed so deeply in his thoughts that he failed to be on his toes as much as he should have been and consequently didn't feel the new presence until its force had heighten considerably. .
Cursing, he raised he hand, ready to strike.
"I didn't come to hurt you, Harry," said a wizened old voice. Harry lowered his hand. Dumbledore.
"What do you want," he asked coldly.
"I came to find you," he said simply.
"I'm here," Harry said.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "And two hours ago Death Eaters stormed Hogwarts."
Harry frowned. "No, they didn't."
"They did," Dumbledore said, his piercing blue eyes looking deep into Harry's. "There were few casualties. One, however, was a major target."
"Me," Harry said simply. "Tell me something, Dumbledore. If I told you that you were supposed to be dead by now, would you believe me?"
"I would," Dumbledore said. He didn't seem surprised.
"I suppose tonight was the night you were supposed to die," Harry said, looking into the slowly lightening horizon. "And Voldemort didn't come after you because he was concerned with my portal. Damn it, Dumbledore! The more I try to keep history unchanged the more I fail miserably! I suppose Lupin portkeyed me to safety?"
"He did."
"Then I haven't caused too much damage."
"On the contrary," Dumbledore said quietly. "You have been more of a help than a hindrance."
"But for how long?" Harry asked. "Do you honestly think that every little mess up I do here will have no effect on the future? What if, because of everything I've done causes Voldemort to defeat me? It's like giving Voldemort a second chance."
"I have to have faith that there was some reason the portal would not let you go back to your own time," Dumbledore said. Harry did not ask how he knew. "Perhaps there's a greater purpose for you being here."
"Or perhaps there isn't," Harry said. He scratched his wrist. It was itching. It hadn't hurt since Voldemort had been destroyed. He looked down and the cobra looked up at him, ready, as always, to strike. It was just another of the many scars Voldemort had left him.
"I suppose you have no reason to want to help, do you?" Dumbledore asked. "I have no idea what ails the child."
"He's not a child," Harry said coldly. "And no, I have no wish to help."
"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "You don't want to interfere."
"I don't want to be here!" Harry yelled suddenly. "You have no idea, how could you?"
"I know what it is like," Dumbledore said quietly. "To think the entire world has been placed upon your shoulders. I know what it's like to have lost far more than you could ever hope to gain. I have been beaten down more times than you have years. But the difference, Harry, is that I have never once turned my back on all those who love me."
"Is that so?" Harry said quietly. "Then why is it you turned your back on me?"
"I never did that, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "You may use that as an excuse to hate the world, but just because a person dies, doesn't mean they are not with you every moment of every day."
"Where were you when Voldemort was gone?" Harry asked, practically shouting. The pain was starting to hurt again and he was angry, not at Dumbledore, but as his weakness, showing its face again. "Where were you those three days I was left dying slowly? Where was anyone?"
"We were right there with you," Dumbledore said firmly. "You are strong, Harry, but you have so much to learn. If you were dying, then why was it you lasted three days longer than you should have? We were there for you every minute of it. And where are you now that your younger self is in pain? We can do nothing for him. It is Voldemort's curse and we cannot break through."
"He must save himself," Harry said. "I did."
"The past is different. You said so yourself."
"Not this," Harry said. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist where, many years ago on that very day, he too had been under Voldemort's curse. He frowned and quickly removed his hand when he realized what he was doing.
"He's in a lot of pain," Dumbledore said.
"He's not. He just doesn't know what's going on."
"Then why is he screaming in his sleep?"
Harry looked sharply at the old man. "I did not scream."
"The past has been altered," Dumbledore said. "This time he might not wake. If you do nothing, he may die and all of time will be ended. Voldemort will rule the world."
Harry contemplated what he could do. He could either go help, or he could stay here and do nothing. He knew what he had to do.
"Take me to him."
A/N: Bum Bum Bum!!!!!! Cliffy! Bwahahahahaha! Oh, that was me possessed, by the way.
Gil: I couldn't tell.
Me: That was sarcasm.
Gil: No s*** Sherlock.
Me: Language!
Gil: I used *!
Me: Whatever... Please review! Reviews are good! They make me happy!