Chapter 4

The Restoration of Prabhakar

Harry sighed, he had received his book list several days before, it was getting close to the time he would have to go to Diagon Ally. Harry felt so tired… and lonely, he was close to almost wishing he had never been born. It was so difficult allowing Hermione to remain under the Shadow's control. Harry wondered how long it would be before he went completely insane; if that happened… he shivered to think of all the destruction he could cause. He hoped Hermione didn't remember anything of what he had taught her.

"Neo, what is going on?" asked Dumbledore.

Neo sighed, "Nothing you can help, I suggest you ask her to teach Potions," he suggested.

"Why?" asked Dumbledore, "I already have, she taught all last year."

"Her personality and memory have been erased; that is why," replied Michael.

"Who?" asked Dumbledore angrily. "One against which you have no chance," replied Michael.

"What is your real name?" asked Dumbledore.

"My name? 'One of god-like power but is of insurmountable and undefeatable evil'," Michael gave a small smile.

"What?" asked Dumbledore rising.

"What I was… is very different from what I am," said Michael meeting his gaze. Dumbledore gave Michael one of his piecing looks. Michael stared right back, his expression closed.

"You're fighting me," said Dumbledore.

"I wouldn't call that a fight… I would call that a… skirmish," replied Michael coolly.

"Where did you learn this? I know you are one of the Ancient Ones, but legend doesn't tell us how powerful, or why they were powerful," said Dumbledore.

Michael gave another closed expression, "Legends hide riddles, riddles hide truth, truth hides in everything else," Michael answered evasively, "Truth, itself, is now subject for debate."

Harry had managed to put the first two pieces together, now he had to meld them; that way they would become one. It had, at least, taken his mind off his problems… For a time; but they kept coming back from time to time. Harry put it down, it was time to go to Diagon Ally.  Harry grabbed his cloak and apparated into Diagon Ally, he didn't have to go to Gringotts, he had taken care of that a while ago.

He walked into the book shop and stopped, his mind drawing a blank, there was Hermione and Ron, they were kissing, Harry gave a repulsed look and continued, "Well, honey," said Ron with great emphasis on 'honey', "You know who that is?"

Harry ignored him until Hermione's answer caught his ear, "No, who is he?" asked Hermione.

Harry stopped dead, this was too much, he turned around, "Well, Ron," started Harry almost friendly, then his voice turned harsh and he started to speak in different languages Ron lifted off the floor and slammed into the bookcases behind him, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER YOU…?" finishing with a word in Parseltongue for which there was no translation.

"Hey stop it, you jerk!" said Hermione.

Harry rounded on her, but stopped. Hermione looked him in the eye, something was familiar about that look… love, desire, longing, loneliness, sadness and anger. She felt the same thing… from somewhere… deep in her heart a great longing… It struck her memory, but it was lurking just out of her reach. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he answered.

"That's not an answer," snapped Hermione.

"You're right, it's not," replied Harry calmly, almost submissively.

"Why won't you give me a straight answer?" asked Hermione.

"Because, I don't know if I'm supposed to," answered Harry, "But you can call me… Professor Potter, I'm your Defense against the Dark Arts teacher."

Hermione snorted, "You're too young to be a professor," she said in a 'don't mess with me' tone.

"Perhaps, but if you have a problem with that, maybe you should bring it up with Headmaster Dumbledore," replied Harry in a factual but submissive voice.

"How old are you?" asked Hermione.

 "Eighteen," replied Harry still sounding a little submissive. He knew this was happening to him, but he couldn't stop it, he couldn't do anything else…

"Doesn't that mean you're in your last year at Hogwarts?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," replied Harry.

"Do we know each other?" asked Hermione.

"In a way," Harry responded cryptically.

"That's still not an answer," Hermione snapped again, "Now answer me."

Harry winced and glanced up at her, "Yes, we do," answered Harry.

"Then why don't I remember you?" she asked.

"Because… Perhaps you should ask lover boy," Harry snapped at Ron, "I'm sure he has a wonderful explanation."

"Put me down," Ron snapped. Harry gave a smirk, "Is Ronny boy scared?" he taunted, "Perhaps wants his Hermione to protect him?"

Ron looked murderous, "Why don't you put me down, then we'll fight," he snarled.

"Oh shut up," said Harry, "I'd have you in the air again in a few seconds, git."

"Put… him… down," said Hermione in an angry tone. Harry glanced at her and assented. He let Ron go; fortunately, Hermione didn't tell him gently, so Harry threw him higher; then dropped him hard. Turning sharply, he grabbed his books off the shelves and hurried towards the front.

"What was that about?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know," Ron lied still sounding angry, "He's a git. But," he continued, "I'll protect you."

Hermione smiled, "I know you will Ron," she said, "There is something strange about him… I wonder what it is."

"I'm sure it's nothing serious, is it Hermione?" asked Ron. "You're right, I'm sure it's nothing," replied Hermione her voice wavered slightly, her curiosity faded.

"Innocence, destroyed," muttered Harry, "Love broken, doubt grows, War brews. War becomes our life, doubt becomes prevalent and doubt becomes a way of life. Love destroyed, innocence gone, trust shattered and life becomes worthless to us." Harry paid for his books and left, he wondered; had he seen what he thought he had seen. Did Hermione feel the same way as he? He could have sworn she had that look in her eyes, the same look he knew only the two of them could see in each other. But it was somehow different, more suppressed. But it was there none the less, perhaps it was like when she lost her memory. He would have to help her regain it again. Anger seethed in his soul, how DARE they violate her… He would have his revenge… but first he would have to plan it. Harry left Diagon Ally and went to Number 12 Grimmald Place, "Hello Tonks," Harry said with a slight smile, "I have something I would like to discuss with you."

"OH, hi Harry! What can I help you with?" asked Tonks excitedly.

"Retribution," replied Harry in a dark voice.

A few days later, Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with a smile, he knew where he was going now, how he would exact reprisal… revenge for Hermione. Even if she didn't remember… to his surprise, Hermione walked into the Head Boy/Girl car. "Hello," muttered Harry, his mind still on his plan.

"What revenge, for who?" asked Hermione.

"What?" asked a shocked Harry snapping back into reality. But before Hermione could answer, a teacher entered to give Harry his instructions. The ride to Hogwarts was uneventful, other than Ron and Hermione acting a little… close. But other than suffering that; it was just as Harry planned; he wouldn't wreak his vengeance… yet, that was to remain until later. He left the car and walked to the back of the train, he smiled, he still hadn't shown his full power, the only true weapon at his disposal, other than Prabhakar, the one not touched in many years, if ever… He stepped out into the fresh air, watching farms flying towards and away from him. He wished his life had been as simple as this… But his fate lay elsewhere. He hoped Hermione would forgive him in time, but as for Ron, Harry didn't care; he wondered how it was going to end. Everything had changed, he knew only what would have happened if he hadn't defeated Voldemort. This future, he didn't know, he hoped it would be alright. Time was funny that way; constantly changing for those who knew the future, but those who didn't; their futures remained fixed. Harry gave a smirk; Ron didn't know the future, but Harry would certainly change it for him… Harry sat down and pulled out Prabhakar, he concentrated on repairing it.

Soon, they arrived at Hogwarts, it was raining, Harry put on his cloak with a smile, he had done it. Prabhakar shone brightly, but somehow darkly, once again whole, as he slipped it into its sheath beneath his cloak. He had repaired his sword, but would he be able to repair his heart? He sighed; Hermione was his heart, its entirety. His heart wasn't broken, it was separated from him.