Disclaimer: the usual. I also borrowed some Tolkien when I lacked
inspiration. Oh, and there are some Biblical references in here. I've
twisted some facts for my own purposes. Don't condemn me for it, it is
fantasy. Enjoy and review.
A/N: this chapter might get a little confusing at times, since both Harrys show up in the same scene. When this happens, the clone is Harry and the real one is Wraith. Hope it clears up some confusion beforehand. It was a bitch to write, I'll tell you that.
Dedicated to sk8reagle for the wonderful review and compliment. Sorry, less action in this chapter, but some explanations and down time is needed before the real action kicks in. Still, enjoy. Thanks.
Chapter 11
The members of the Order of the Phoenix rounded the corner at a dead sprint, hoping to take out the last lagging Death Eaters. Instead they caught a glimpse of a Portkey usage, and the young wizard who had helped them earlier crumpled on the floor, blood pouring out in torrents. Several people ran forward, while others headed back to alert the rest of the counterforce that they were finished. Clean up was need, as well as a place to put the few Death Eaters they had captured.
Dumbledore got his first good look at the wizard who had alerted him to the break-in tonight, and he suspected, had give the Ministry gift-wrapped Death Eaters for the past several months. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with black hair tied back in a ponytail, sharp features and a small scar cutting diagonally across one cheek. He probably stood around 6 feet tall, with a fairly muscular build and medium brown skin. Right now, though, one side of his face was charred and blistered with burns, one eye was swollen shut, and blood ran from his nose and split lip. A dagger, only the hilt actually visible, protruded from his side, nearly obscured by the blood.
Sirius knelt next to him and he stirred slightly. The former convict picked him up gently, trying not to aggravate the stab wound, when suddenly the injured man choked out in a faint voice, "Knife . . . poisoned," before falling completely limp.
These two words set everybody into action. Remus had Sirius put the man back on the floor and yanked the dagger out with an almighty wrench. Arabella stripped off her outer cloak and ripped it in two, using one half to staunch the wound and the other to tie it in place as a temporary bandage. Snape took the bloodied knife from Remus and began the process of deciphering what sort of poison was used, in order to brew the antidote. Charlie Weasley conjured a stretcher and floated their injured comrade onto it, while Dumbledore sent a quick message to Madame Pomfrey as to what to expect when they arrived.
While perhaps they should take the man to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore wanted to know who this mysterious young man was, and the fact that he had called the Order rather than the Ministry intrigued him. Few people outside the Order and Law Enforcement even knew it existed. He also knew he needed to be protected. No place was safer than Hogwarts, and Madame Pomfrey would take excellent care of him. The problem was getting there. The anti-Apparation wards extended for over a mile around the island, and only preset Portkeys could work here, and only in one area. The same wards were applied for Hogwarts. It would be a race against time.
Dumbledore and Sirius led the stretcher at a run down to the docks, where they had arrived by broomstick. Lashing up a quick framework to hold the stretcher steady between two brooms, they mounted up and flew off, with Snape and Charlie trailing them closely. The others would return by boat or broom, then Apparate to Hogsmeade. As soon as the flying ambulance crossed the barriers, they Apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts barrier and flew straight to the windows of the hospital wing.
The nurse was ready for them and immediately transferred the patient to a clean bed to begin inspecting him. Sirius was recruited to be her go-fer, and ran back and forth between the bed and her supply cabinet as she demanded. The white sheets slowly turned red with blood despite her best efforts, and emptied potions bottles littered the floor, making Sirius' running around very treacherous.
Snape abruptly flew in, startling Pomfrey so she began cussing eloquently at him in several different medically impossible terms. He interrupted her tirade. "I know that poison. It's a specialized Dark toxin that breaks down all blood vessels so the victim bleeds to death slowly and painfully. It takes about 30 minutes to kill, so we don't have much time. Do you store an herb known as kingsfoil?" Pomfrey shook her head in bewilderment and slight panic. "Never heard of it before."
Now Snape swore. "I can simulate the effect with a potion, but it takes over an hour to brew. There's not enough time." Dumbledore said calmly, "Go ahead and do it Severus. Even if he doesn't survive long enough to use it, someone else might later." Snape glanced at him briefly, and then all but ran down to his dungeon. For a while there was silence, apart from Pomfrey's usual mutterings as she worked. Charlie stood by Dumbledore, watching and waiting, and slowly the remaining Order members drifted in as they finished up at Azkaban and the Ministry.
As more time passed, more bruises blossomed on Wraith's skin, his nose began bleeding again as well as his gums and eyes, and the clotting stab wound opened again. He was losing far too much blood, and the symptoms were overwhelming Madame Pomfrey's expertise. Suddenly a rush of wings flew by Dumbledore's head, and Fawkes the phoenix landed on the bed, ignoring the blood and Pomfrey's irritation. As they continued to gaze silently on, the bird laid his magnificent head on the wound in the patient's side and thick pearly tears lowed onto it, flashing in the candlelight.
But Pomfrey noticed something strange happening. The man's body did not quit bleeding, but instead seemed to absorb the tears into itself. He appeared to glow with an inner light briefly, and the bleeding slowed, then stopped almost entirely. He still lay pale and unresponsive, but alive. Pomfrey checked the time; it had been over 45 minutes since the Order had brought him in. Maybe, just maybe he would survive this, but all she could do for him now was make sure he was comfortable.
Minutes dragged by like hours, and the young man remained unchanged, neither worsening nor waking. Finally Snape stalked back into the room in a hurry, clutching a bottle in his hand. He was very surprised to see that the patient was still alive, but also relieved. He inquired "Can you wake him?" "Yes, but he'd be in so much pain I can't guarantee anything." "Do it." With her wand pointed at her patient's chest, Madame Pomfrey uttered a few choice words.
Suddenly the young man stirred and moaned, his eyes flickering open. The irises were a startling blue-green, but the normally white sclera was a crimson mass of broken blood vessels, granting his eyes a hideous cast. Unperturbed, Madame Pomfrey leaned in and asked quietly, "Can you hear me?" He nodded faintly. "Good. We need you to drink this potion to counteract the poison."
She supported his shoulders as he sat up a bit, and Snape handed him the bottle. The man looked at it and recognition flickered in his eyes. His free hand groped at the pouched on his belt and pulled out a vial full of a clear liquid. With one hand he unstoppered it and poured it into the bottle, and the potion hissed before turning a red-gold color. His gaze briefly met those of the Order members watching him, and he gave a small grin, raised the glass as a toast and said "L'Chaim!" before he downed the entire thing and fell immediately into a deep sleep.
Snape, a little indignant that someone dared to mess with one of his potions, snatched up the empty vial and bottle from the bed and peered intently at them, looking for traces of whatever the young man had added. Unfortunately for him, no residue was left on either container for him to test. He glared at the slumbering figure for a moment, then turned away. For a second there was silence, and then Percy asked "What does L'Chaim mean?" The professors looked clueless, but an Auror answered him. "It's a traditional Jewish toast meaning 'to life,'" she explained exhaustedly.
Madame Pomfrey turned to them, having determined that her patient would live until morning, and exclaimed, "All right, now let me see what damage you all have sustained." A chorus of grumbling answered her, but she refused to let anyone leave until all the combatants had been checked out and fed a bar of chocolate. In the midst of all the bandaging and mending, Dumbledore announce, "Owing to the lateness of the hour and everyone's fatigue, I insist you all stay here for the night. Guest rooms are being prepared, and we will meet in the morning after breakfast. Good night."
With that, the headmaster and professors left the hospital wing. The more seriously injured adults remained there under Madame Pomfrey's care, while the others were guided to their rooms by the house elves. Soon exhaustion claimed them all.
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The next morning, the whole of Gryffindor House came down to breakfast extremely late, looking tired but triumphant. The Slytherins were surly and irritable, having been the focus of many outpourings of excess jubilant energy in the form of pranks. The Ravenclaws were not too happy either, but they had a good reason. The Gryffindor team was being congratulated still and they were nothing short of ecstatic. But the professors noticed one exception: Harry Potter.
The star Seeker seemed quiet and pensive, ignoring the celebratory atmosphere around him and picking at his food without eating a bite. He had not acted this way since the end of last year, after Voldemort's rebirth. Ron and Hermione had also noticed their friend's behavior and kept sneaking glances at him, concerned. He obviously was not telling them something. Last night he had returned to the party after a meeting with Dumbledore in high spirits and spent most of the time laughing, joking and telling stories. Something had happened overnight, but what did he know?
Abruptly Harry stood and walked out of the Great Hall, oblivious to the sudden drop in volume as Hogwarts observed its Quidditch hero depart. Gradually conversations resumed, but now everyone felt a little subdued and the celebration fell a little flat. The professors present know something was wrong. Did Harry know about last night's attack, or the young man now sleeping in the hospital wing?
They would have to wonder later, for now it was time for the Order to debrief. Dumbledore had invited all the professors to attend and several chairs had been added around the marble table in the phoenix chamber when they arrived. The meeting began, and the headmaster gave brief introductions, then described the note that had appeared and its contents. Others explained the fight for Azkaban and Voldemort's alliance with the dementors, as well as the escaped prisoners. Finally Dumbledore told of the young man who had fought against the Death Eaters and was currently lying in the hospital wing.
Professor Flitwick spoke up. "I think Harry Potter knows something. He was out of sorts at breakfast and left early without eating. I haven't seen that sort of behavior out of him since last year, after the Third Task." There was a momentary silence; the Dumbledore summoned a house elf. "Find Harry Potter and bring him here, please." The little creature was off with a "snap!" and the discussion turned to the dementor threat. Suddenly Sirius broke in with "But how many dementors actually joined? Azkaban houses almost 200, but I didn't see nearly that many leaving when Voldemort ordered them out."
Theories and questions arose, but they were all interrupted by the house elf returning with Harry in tow. He seemed distracted and distant, not all there mentally, and barely acknowledged the others in the room. Dumbledore asked gently, trying to snap him out of it, "Harry, do you know about the attack last night?" "At Azkaban? Yeah." "How?"
"I had a . . . dream, a vision . . . but it was clearer, more real than anything I've ever seen. And not only the attack, but beforehand." Agitated, Harry paced the room. "The problem is some parts are blacked out. I can't remember them, and I've tried, but spells don't work. I can feel it's something important." Sirius tried to calm him. "Can you describe what you do remember?" Harry nodded and his eyes glazed over.
"A dark corridor made of ancient stone. Death Eaters leaving, carrying out Voldemort's orders for the raid. A dreadful cold, cutting right to the bone. Voldemort was speaking to a head floating in the black flames, something unspeakably evil . . . his master. I can't understand their words. Then Azkaban, someone sneaking in the prison before the Death Eaters, transporting the prisoners away. A golden light destroying scores of dementors, more fleeing. Voldemort showed up, the dementors joined him even as the Aurors arrived.
Fighting through the corridors, trying to escape. Two creatures appeared, demons, they spoke of a talisman and took Voldemort deep underground, beneath the prison. A black orb in crimson light, with purple eyes. I remember a fight, Voldemort wrestling with someone to get the talisman. He pulled a knife and stabbed the man. I can see everything crystal clear except for his face; I can't make out the face. The blade was poisoned. Voldemort used the demons to get back to his Death Eaters, the man went with them without being noticed. Voldemort escaped by Portkey, the demons vanished, the man collapsed. That's all I can remember." He rubbed his forehead, particularly the scar as he paced. "No, wait, I remember a sound. Something familiar." He frowned in concentration. "A voice, female, and . . . phoenix song."
The members of the Order of the Phoenix glanced at each other. "Well Harry, it appeared that you may know more than we do. We have a guest down in the hospital wing that I believe you need to meet." Dumbledore led the entire group to the infirmary, only to find their mystery man wide awake and eating while Madame Pomfrey fussed over him. She seem flustered and started to tell, well whine actually, to the headmaster when he walked in. "I just don't understand it. Yesterday he was supposed to be dead, even the phoenix tears barely kept him alive until the potion was ready. Today he's completely healed! But he's infuriating! Refuses to give me a name, or what he put in the potion, or even how old he is. Says he only wants to speak with you."
Dumbledore held up his hands in a placating gesture. "All right, calm yourself. I'll speak with him." She stalked off grumbling as he approached the bed. "Good morning," he began, but then the stranger's eyes fixed on Harry, standing right behind the headmaster. They stared at each other for long moments as if silently communicating, then Harry smiled and sat down on the bed.
"So how was the wrestling match?" The other chuckled. "I was kicking his arse until he pulled that knife. I didn't have enough time to grab my own weapons beforehand, so I settled for bashing his ugly face in. He fights dirty too," Wraith added with an ironic smile. Now Harry laughed. "What did you expect? An invitation to tea at the Riddle House?" "Only if it's our heads being served with the scones." "Speaking of that . . ."
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*This is unbelievably strange* Harry decided idly as he sat disguised on his bed, chatting with himself. Or rather, his clone. At any other time he probably would have been laughing his head off, and knew that Eva was by now. But he knew that misdirection at this point would help him in his campaign, so he'd save the joke for later. He mentally shrugged. *At this point I'm a good candidate for the mental wards.*
Suddenly Remus broke in to the monologue/dialogue. "How is it you two know each other?" Harry fought the urge to smirk as he glanced at his clone. "A mutual friend introduced us last fall, and we've kept in touch. Harry here has actually helped me out in a few tight spots." *Yeah, like when ditching class and sneaking out to hunt Death Eaters.* Dumbledore just shook his gray head. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Who are you?"
Harry smirked to himself but answered, "I have many names, but you may call me Wraith." "How did you know about the raid last night?" "I was snooping around old Voldie's fortress and overheard them. So I broke into Azkaban before they did and took most of the prisoners out to a protected area of my own, and killed over 60 dementors before the Death Eaters showed up. When you engaged them, I kept them busy on their flank until those demons came for Voldemort."
McGonagall interrupted, "Harry told us all of that, but what does that . . . talisman have to do with anything? Why did the Dark Lord want it?" Harry frowned. "I wish I knew. His master spoke of a ritual involving two talismans. The demons knew where the one was, but they are still searching for the second. I don't even know what exactly they're looking for, but I have to keep Voldemort from getting it." He sighed.
Snape changed the subject with an irritated sneer. "What did you add to my potion?" The disguised teen noted his irritation and was purposefully vague. "A mixture of my own. It can be added to any potion to speed up and enhance the effects, among other things." He grinned even as the Potions Master scowled. "By the way, who has that knife?" Snape pulled it out, a nasty expression still on his face, and threw it to Harry who caught it easily.
"Wraith" examined it closely. It had a razor sharp silver blade set in an ebony hilt, with tracings in an obscure script etched into both. He flipped it from hand to hand, testing the balance, then tossed it high in the air and caught it again. This display was making the professors nervous, but the clone simply watched, smirking knowingly. Wraith arched an eyebrow, the Harry double inclined his head in a barely perceptible nod, and their game began.
Wraith twirled the knife expertly as Harry stood up and casually walked to the opposite side of the room, then he threw it at him with a flick of his wrist. Harry caught it by the hilt and smoothly spun it around his arm, tossed it up to catch it behind his back, and hurled it back to Wraith, who let it come within inches of his face before seizing it out of the air. The females in the room all gasped, horrified, but the males for the most part watched carefully.
Wraith played a little with the poisoned blade before returning it to Harry to show off with. This time however, when Harry threw it back he included two of his own knives pulled from his wrist sheaths. Wraith caught two, spun one into the air as he snatched up the third and began juggling them. When he flung these across the room, he picked up the glass from the bedside table, transfigured it into a hunting knife just to make it harder and chucked it at Harry, all within the space of a heartbeat. Harry caught all four easily and juggled them, adding a few under the leg throws before gathering two in each hand and flinging them with all his considerable strength at Wraith's face, then pulled out two more boot knives and added them to the mix.
Wraith leaped up onto the bed and bounced, with a little help of some wandless magic, did a mid-air flip as he caught two, lobbed them into the air, grabbed the next two and bounced them off the mattress hilt-first, and snatched the last two right in front of his nose. He used the momentum to toss them back as the other two pairs of knives returned to his skilled hands.
The two Harrys juggled the blades back and forth, setting up a smooth rhythm between them as the knives flashed across the room in a deadly dance. Any skilled circus juggler team would be envious of their partnership, which was easily explained by the fact that they shared the same mind. They ignored Madame Pomfrey's protests and the professors' mutterings. Then the doors of the hospital wing flew open and Ron entered with Hermione, looking for Harry. They stopped dead in their tracks and gaped open-mouthed at their friend, who was playing with deadly weapons with a complete stranger in school.
Both Harrys noticed this intrusion and decided to wrap things up. They each grabbed three blades out of the air, spun, and threw them at the same time. The knives embedded themselves in the wood floor in an alternating pattern, perfectly spaced and in a straight line. The Harrys looked at each other, grinned and briefly bowed, and then began to gather up their toys, trying desperately not to laugh.
Professor McGonagall was the first to find her voice. "Just what the bloody hell did you two think you were doing?" She only cursed when she was extremely upset. Wraith smiled at the assembled group of elders. "Just checking if Harry here had kept up on his training." Harry also grinned. "Just making sure Wraith here was completely recovered." Sirius rolled his eyes and snorted. "You're going to give me gray hairs, kid."
*You have no idea.*
Madame Pomfrey nearly shrieked at them, "You two, are you trying to kill yourselves?! Did it conveniently slip your minds that one of those blades is poisoned with a deadly toxin?!" Wraith interrupted, "Well, actually, more than one." "WHAT?!" Pomfrey looked like she was about to have a stroke. He glanced over at Harry, who tried not to smile as he told her, "Two of mine were also."
"With what, pray tell?" "Well, this one," he held up one of his boot knives, "has a Firebrand potion, and this one," this time one from the wrist sheath, "a little bit of an exotic concoction made with poison from a South American dart frog. Both fairly lethal." Wraith continued in a conversational manner, "So we actually had three poisoned and three regular blades. Oh, I bet you want your glass back." He picked up the transfigured knife and changed it back with a "pop," then tossed it to the furious nurse who slammed it back down on the bedside table.
Ron and Hermione were still staring stupidly, so Harry walked over and introduced them. "This is my friend Wraith. He's been part of my training since last fall, and was involved in a skirmish last night at Azkaban. I believe you know about Ron and Hermione." The disguised Harry nodded at them politely, but inside he nearly broke his ribs to keep from laughing hysterically. This was just too much, himself introducing himself to his two best friends. Not even the Marauders could have pulled off something this twisted. He would need to talk with the two teens later.
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, with the Order questioning Wraith about his various activities. He purposely left a few things vague that had the potential of leading them to his true identity, and noticed that the double Harry followed his lead. In the end, he agreed to pass on any relevant information he heard to the Order, but refused to relinquish the prisoners he had taken from Azkaban. "They're safer where they are for now. Once Voldemort is defeated and Azkaban retaken, you can have them back, not before."
Dumbledore finally called an end to the gathering and invited Wraith to stay another night at Hogwarts, but he refused. "I have other things I must attend to, so I'll be leaving tonight. That is, if Madame Pomfrey will let me go." He flashed her a smile he knew to be both charming and infuriating, and her return glare clearly told him to get out of her sight as her patience was at an end. A few people chuckled, especially Sirius and Remus who knew the nurse's temper after years of experience. With that, the Order members left, most heading down to Hogsmeade to Apparate home while the professors went back to their quarters.
Wraith left with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they headed back toward the Gryffindor Tower. However, as they passed a portrait of a reclining lion, Wraith reached out and touched it in a certain place, then grabbed Ron's arm and tugged him inside the tunnel now revealed. Hermione had been holding Ron's other hand and was pulled along with him, and the clone Harry brought up the rear, closing the portrait behind him. They came to a room where the torches sprang to life at their arrival, revealing a very comfortably furnished lounge with a fireplace.
Wraith dropped Ron's arm and his disguise simultaneously, eliciting a number of stammers and wide-eyed looks of astonishment as both his friends stared back and forth between the identical "twins." At that point Harry could no longer contain himself and burst out laughing so hard tears leaked out his eyes. He tried to collapse on the couch, but missed and hit the floor, still gasping for breath between giggles. Hermione finally managed to speak. "Wha . . . what's going on?"
"Oh, come on Mione, you've met my clone before. You just didn't know it." Harry continued chuckling. A light of understanding appeared in her and Ron's eyes, and she nodded slowly as many things clicked. "Let's make this a little less confusing." Harry recalled the clone to him, and the two bodies fused into one, transferring and integrating memories. As soon as there was only one Harry once again, Ron spoke. "Wraith? Is that the best name you could come up with?" Harry shrugged. "Seemed appropriate to me. Don't you think so?" "Why didn't you tell them who you really were?" Hermione interjected.
"Think about it. If they knew, they'd ask a lot of questions I'm not ready to answer yet. I prefer keeping information limited to the three of us. They'd find out about the clone, all of my abilities, my contact with Eva, all of it. They'd overestimate me, even more than they do now. As it is, I like to keep a few surprises in store for Voldemort when we meet again. Plus I'm keeping you guys safe for now. He doesn't know I'm behind the losses he's taken."
He sighed. "Besides, you know how Remus and Sirius are. Imagine how much they'd freak out if they knew it was me who was at Azkaban and almost died last night." "WHAT?!" Harry winced; he had not meant to tell them that. Oh well. He recounted everything that happened last night, starting when he was called to Dumbledore's office. When he finished his tale, both his friends stared at him in astonishment and concern. Ron shook his head.
"Whoa Harry, this is wicked. How many Death Eaters did they spring?" "Near as I can tell, almost two dozen high ranking ones, including Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail." All three teen scowled. "Over 100 dementors survived to join Voldemort too." Harry sighed again. "We hurt him, but not nearly bad enough. And frankly, I'm worried."
Now Ron and Hermione were scared. Harry was their rock; he was not supposed to be scared of anything. "Whatever that head was, it clearly has an alliance with Voldemort. They can command the ancient demon armies and possess such a great power. I could feel it, a tremendous . . ." he waved a hand helplessly in the air, searching for the right word, "evil is the only way to describe it. This war is going to be harder and bloodier than I ever expected."
All three silently contemplated the dancing flames in the hearth, considering the words Harry had spoken. Ron stirred. "What are you going to do for the summer? Are you moving in with Sirius?" Harry shook his head. "I can't. He wants me to, but I can't." "Why not? Dumbledore approved it. And where else can you go?" "The Order of the Phoenix uses his house as a base of operations for some missions and intelligence gathering. If I lived there, I'd not only be under constant surveillance but also place all of them in danger. Well, more than they voluntarily put themselves in already. Plus it's a little too well known, thanks to the trial. As for where I'm going, I've already made my own arrangements. No one will be able to find me, and it's perfect for what I need to do."
Hermione looked pained. "When you said no one, does that include owl post?" Harry nodded. "But then how will we be able to contact you?" "I've taken care of that. I'll explain later." "We won't be able to see you all summer, will we?" "That's still up in the air. We'll see what the circumstances are. Oh, and just to be safe, I've increased the protection on your houses, so you don't have to worry about Death Eaters in your backyards. Still have to worry about tax collectors though." It was a very lame attempt at humor, but it was enough to break the solemn mood. After a few minutes of idle chatter, they headed back to Gryffindor Tower.
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Thankfully, there were no more Death Eater attacks for the rest of the school year, so Harry was able to concentrate on his OWLs, although it was only Potions he actually needed to study for. Even with that his increased mental faculties and innate understanding with how nature and magic interact made it much easier than it ever had been. He spent much of his time helping Ron and Hermione study or researching what could be found on demons and their abilities. Just the memory of that head Voldemort had summoned was enough to chill him to the bone.
The fifth years spent two full days on the OWL exams, both written and practical. Harry found them all ridiculously easy, and was the first one finished on each exam. The rest did not share his sentiments; even Hermione emerged from the last one (Transfiguration) looking pale and wrung out. But it was over, and they had a full week of school left before summer. The trio spent the majority of the spare time relaxing down by the lake, playing Gobstones or just talking. Ron and Harry still did their morning workout together, but lengthened it in the absence of classes. Harry was giving Ron tips on how to continue with his training over the summer, while Hermione looked interested yet amused.
One day Harry received a summons to Dumbledore's office. He figured it would be a discussion of his summer arrangements, and when he reached the circular room he knew he was right. Sirius and Arthur Weasley were both there with the headmaster, chatting animatedly. "Ah Harry, good of you to join us. Have a seat." Harry plunked himself down in a seat by the fireplace, resting his forearms on his thighs.
"Now, we have been discussing where you are to stay over the summer, as you certainly cannot return to the Dursleys. While there is a risk, we believe that you can move in with Sirius, then stay with the Weasleys for the last two weeks of the summer." Sirius leaned forward smiling. "Now that I've got a house, or rather a mansion, there's plenty of room, you can move in immediately. We can finally be a family. Remus is living there too," he added. "Three eligible and handsome bachelors in the ultimate bachelor pad. It'll be great!"
Sirius' enthusiasm was infectious, and Harry grinned, but it was a sad grin, a bit regretful. "I'm sorry Sirius, but I can't." "What? What do you mean you can't?" Sirius looked floored. "Where else can you go?" Harry sighed. "I want to live with you, I really do. It would be great to finally have a real family. But like you said, there is a risk, probably greater than you realize." He got up and paced to the window. "You know as well as I that Voldemort is obsessed with killing me. He will destroy anyone who gets in his way. I can't risk placing you in that kind of danger, and I won't allow myself to be trapped that easily."
Sirius opened his mouth, but Harry continued. "Your place is too obvious, too well known and well trafficked. I know that the Order uses it as a staging area- don't ask how," he warned, seeing the look on their faces. "This summer will be a crucial time in this war. You can't afford to babysit me, which is what you will want to do. And I don't need to be watched after. I've spoken to Wraith and I've made arrangements to go into hiding. No one will be able to find me. I know what I'm doing." Sirius looked wildly at Dumbledore. "Albus . . ."
"Harry's right." Both Sirius and Harry were surprised. "He will be safer out of the public eye, and out of the way of the Order. No offense Harry, but you do tend to attract attention and trouble. Are you sure no one will be able to find you?" "Positive. I've tested it. Not even the owl post can find it, let alone Death Eaters. Oh, and I have something for all of you." Harry produced three sheets of parchment.
"These are instant messengers, similar to Muggle computers. Just write the name of the person you want to write to, then the message, and tap it as you say 'send.' When your parchment receives a message, it glows blue until you tap it and say 'receive,' and the note will appear. It's untraceable and fast. I'm also giving one to Ron, Hermione, and Remus. I can make more, but it'll take a little time."
Dumbledore appeared impressed, while Sirius and Arthur were fascinated. "How did you make these?" Harry only gave a secretive smile. "The library can be your friend."
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All too soon, the students of Hogwarts were packed, stuffed full from the Leaving Feast, and on the Hogwarts Express heading back to King's Cross station. Fred and George hid their sadness about this being their last trip by testing every single one of their Weasley Wizard Wheezes on any student, particularly Slytherins that happened to come across them. Harry presented his friends with their IM parchments and explained how to use them. He also decided to give one to Ginny on the spur of the moment, following an inexplicable intuition, and promised to keep them updated on anything important.
They played several games of Exploding Snap and laughed at the twins' antics. When the train pulled into London, everybody changed back to Muggle clothes and disembarked, passing through the gate back into Muggle London. Their families were waiting there for them.
"Bye Harry. Be safe," Hermione said and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before kissing Ron goodbye and joining her parents. The crowd of Weasleys was very visible among the masses of Muggles due to their red hair, and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry an extra hug, her worry for him evident. "Don't take too many chances this summer, dear. Will you be coming to the Burrow later?" "I hope so. Don't worry, I'll let you know." He gave her a reassuring smile, shared a handshake with Mr. Weasley, then threw a thumbs- up to Ron as they walked away.
He waited until the family had driven away in the Ministry limo before shrinking his belongings and pocketing them, then Apparated to his new house. Harry unpacked quickly and surveyed his room, then the entire house. Everything was perfect for his plans. He decided to relax a bit before going to bed, so he transfigured his clothes into swimming trunks, walked outside to the pool and dove in. As he swam, he was very grateful for the charm that kept the area around his house in a perpetual state of summer. The real weather outside was rather chilly and damp. He loved swimming, the sense of the water flowing, supporting his body even as he fought his way through it.
He finally emerged, dripping puddles that vanished as if soaked up by and invisible sponge, to find his IM parchment flashing blue. He grinned and shook his head as he received the messages. It seemed like every person who had one had sent him a message, either just testing it or worrying about his safety. Apparently the "Harry" hand on the Weasley clock was just spinning endlessly again, same as it had when he had disappeared last summer. Harry wrote back saying he was fine and suggesting that they put a new destination on the clock: You Don't Want To Know. After answering all the inquiries, he climbed the stairs back up to his room, quickly changed into pajamas and collapsed on the bed, falling immediately into a deep sleep.
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Nightmares were a given if you were Harry Potter. Every night since returning to his dimension, he had had at least one per night, but usually several. If it was not memories of the Third Task and the graveyard, then it was any selection of his encounters with Voldemort from years before. Then there were the visions, as his connection with the Dark Lord gave him a ringside seat to torture and murder. These had died down a bit since the Light Mark was first cast into the sky, but now they returned in full force. The only difference for Harry was that now he had devised a spell to let him record the dream and go back to sleep after he woke up yelling. That way he would not become psychotic from sleep deprivation. That was the last thing anybody needed.
About a week into the summer, the dreams changed. Harry was standing at the edge of a large ancient city, but by looking at it, one could not have guessed that it was older than Man. Harry could sense it, however; the age and wisdom that it was imbibed in, the magical wave that emanated from it, making the very air throb and his skin tingle. He waited, and soon a person appeared before him.
She was tall, thin, and possessed of an unearthly beauty that made his breath catch in his throat. Her hair gleamed silver, the same shade as her eyes and the trim on her black robes. For all her indescribable beauty, something about her warned Harry that there was something ancient and powerful about this woman; something deadly. This was confirmed when she introduced herself.
"Greetings young phoenix. I am Lady Death." Harry's eyes threatened to pop out of his head. "Do not look so frightened, I am not here on my usual business." A small inaudible sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he even felt bold enough to say, "I've always thought Death was an old man with a scythe and hourglass." "I am sometimes portrayed that way, as I have taken that form at times to accomplish my goals. But that is beside the point."
"In only a year you have grown and accomplished so much. Yet you hide so much of it from normal eyes. Why?" Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I just don't like all the attention. That's why I created Wraith, so people wouldn't know it was me. And being underestimated can be useful in a war." Death actually chuckled. "Yes. Wraith; an apt name for your work. You have done a fine job handling the powers you possess and using them properly. Yet for all your abilities, circumstances have changed. You are no match for Voldemort now."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face and he stammered, "Wh . . what? Why not?" Death looked rather grim. "He has entered into an alliance with the Prince of Darkness, Lucifer himself. The talismans he is collecting are essential for a ritual that would allow Lucifer to possess Voldemort entirely, transferring every ounce of his power into the human shell and granting immortality. When that happens, no one will be able to stop him, not even you. Darkness will overshadow the earth and enslave humanity for all time, magic and Muggle alike."
Harry felt sick and cold. "So after everything I've done, all that I've sacrificed and sweated for, there's nothing I can do?" "I did not say that," Death admonished him. "You have to find the second talisman. If you get it and destroy it, the ritual cannot take place and Voldemort will remain as he is, powerful but mortal. Then you will be able to destroy him." Harry nodded with determination shining in his eyes. "Where is the talisman?"
Death sighed softly. "I do not know. The two were created for an ancient purpose, long since forgotten. A disaster occurred and this city was banished to this place, destroyed in your world and curse because of these objects. They were separated and hidden on opposite sides of the world, hoping they would never be found again. This happened long before the founders ever conceived the idea of Hogwarts, before humans ever discovered the existence of magic. Any living memory has long since been erased by the winds of time. The only records remaining of their existence reside in two places. One the demons are currently searching for, an ancient library buried in your world. But the other is untouched in my realm, sealed from everybody but the One worthy to find the ancient relics."
Harry looked skeptical and slightly irritated. *Not another one. Why does this always happen to me? Let someone else save the world for once.* "You think that the One is me?" he asked, traces of his emotions creeping into his cold tone. Death nodded solemnly. "You can only enter this realm through dreams. So while you are here, you must search the archives for the location of the talisman. We have little time left here together. I will explain more at another time, and you will begin your search tomorrow." She turned and started to disappear into the city. "Wait! How do you know I am the One?" Harry called after her, but it was too late.
She vanished and a moment later he felt himself flying upwards, then back in his own bed he sat up abruptly with a gasp, sweat pouring off of him. He jumped up and staggered into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed he looked like death; the phrase stirred his memory. He concentrated on remembering the dream, but it slipped away just like the water through his fingers, details flowing away as he focused on them. He hung his head as he leaned on the sink and muttered, "Damn."
A/N: this chapter might get a little confusing at times, since both Harrys show up in the same scene. When this happens, the clone is Harry and the real one is Wraith. Hope it clears up some confusion beforehand. It was a bitch to write, I'll tell you that.
Dedicated to sk8reagle for the wonderful review and compliment. Sorry, less action in this chapter, but some explanations and down time is needed before the real action kicks in. Still, enjoy. Thanks.
Chapter 11
The members of the Order of the Phoenix rounded the corner at a dead sprint, hoping to take out the last lagging Death Eaters. Instead they caught a glimpse of a Portkey usage, and the young wizard who had helped them earlier crumpled on the floor, blood pouring out in torrents. Several people ran forward, while others headed back to alert the rest of the counterforce that they were finished. Clean up was need, as well as a place to put the few Death Eaters they had captured.
Dumbledore got his first good look at the wizard who had alerted him to the break-in tonight, and he suspected, had give the Ministry gift-wrapped Death Eaters for the past several months. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with black hair tied back in a ponytail, sharp features and a small scar cutting diagonally across one cheek. He probably stood around 6 feet tall, with a fairly muscular build and medium brown skin. Right now, though, one side of his face was charred and blistered with burns, one eye was swollen shut, and blood ran from his nose and split lip. A dagger, only the hilt actually visible, protruded from his side, nearly obscured by the blood.
Sirius knelt next to him and he stirred slightly. The former convict picked him up gently, trying not to aggravate the stab wound, when suddenly the injured man choked out in a faint voice, "Knife . . . poisoned," before falling completely limp.
These two words set everybody into action. Remus had Sirius put the man back on the floor and yanked the dagger out with an almighty wrench. Arabella stripped off her outer cloak and ripped it in two, using one half to staunch the wound and the other to tie it in place as a temporary bandage. Snape took the bloodied knife from Remus and began the process of deciphering what sort of poison was used, in order to brew the antidote. Charlie Weasley conjured a stretcher and floated their injured comrade onto it, while Dumbledore sent a quick message to Madame Pomfrey as to what to expect when they arrived.
While perhaps they should take the man to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore wanted to know who this mysterious young man was, and the fact that he had called the Order rather than the Ministry intrigued him. Few people outside the Order and Law Enforcement even knew it existed. He also knew he needed to be protected. No place was safer than Hogwarts, and Madame Pomfrey would take excellent care of him. The problem was getting there. The anti-Apparation wards extended for over a mile around the island, and only preset Portkeys could work here, and only in one area. The same wards were applied for Hogwarts. It would be a race against time.
Dumbledore and Sirius led the stretcher at a run down to the docks, where they had arrived by broomstick. Lashing up a quick framework to hold the stretcher steady between two brooms, they mounted up and flew off, with Snape and Charlie trailing them closely. The others would return by boat or broom, then Apparate to Hogsmeade. As soon as the flying ambulance crossed the barriers, they Apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts barrier and flew straight to the windows of the hospital wing.
The nurse was ready for them and immediately transferred the patient to a clean bed to begin inspecting him. Sirius was recruited to be her go-fer, and ran back and forth between the bed and her supply cabinet as she demanded. The white sheets slowly turned red with blood despite her best efforts, and emptied potions bottles littered the floor, making Sirius' running around very treacherous.
Snape abruptly flew in, startling Pomfrey so she began cussing eloquently at him in several different medically impossible terms. He interrupted her tirade. "I know that poison. It's a specialized Dark toxin that breaks down all blood vessels so the victim bleeds to death slowly and painfully. It takes about 30 minutes to kill, so we don't have much time. Do you store an herb known as kingsfoil?" Pomfrey shook her head in bewilderment and slight panic. "Never heard of it before."
Now Snape swore. "I can simulate the effect with a potion, but it takes over an hour to brew. There's not enough time." Dumbledore said calmly, "Go ahead and do it Severus. Even if he doesn't survive long enough to use it, someone else might later." Snape glanced at him briefly, and then all but ran down to his dungeon. For a while there was silence, apart from Pomfrey's usual mutterings as she worked. Charlie stood by Dumbledore, watching and waiting, and slowly the remaining Order members drifted in as they finished up at Azkaban and the Ministry.
As more time passed, more bruises blossomed on Wraith's skin, his nose began bleeding again as well as his gums and eyes, and the clotting stab wound opened again. He was losing far too much blood, and the symptoms were overwhelming Madame Pomfrey's expertise. Suddenly a rush of wings flew by Dumbledore's head, and Fawkes the phoenix landed on the bed, ignoring the blood and Pomfrey's irritation. As they continued to gaze silently on, the bird laid his magnificent head on the wound in the patient's side and thick pearly tears lowed onto it, flashing in the candlelight.
But Pomfrey noticed something strange happening. The man's body did not quit bleeding, but instead seemed to absorb the tears into itself. He appeared to glow with an inner light briefly, and the bleeding slowed, then stopped almost entirely. He still lay pale and unresponsive, but alive. Pomfrey checked the time; it had been over 45 minutes since the Order had brought him in. Maybe, just maybe he would survive this, but all she could do for him now was make sure he was comfortable.
Minutes dragged by like hours, and the young man remained unchanged, neither worsening nor waking. Finally Snape stalked back into the room in a hurry, clutching a bottle in his hand. He was very surprised to see that the patient was still alive, but also relieved. He inquired "Can you wake him?" "Yes, but he'd be in so much pain I can't guarantee anything." "Do it." With her wand pointed at her patient's chest, Madame Pomfrey uttered a few choice words.
Suddenly the young man stirred and moaned, his eyes flickering open. The irises were a startling blue-green, but the normally white sclera was a crimson mass of broken blood vessels, granting his eyes a hideous cast. Unperturbed, Madame Pomfrey leaned in and asked quietly, "Can you hear me?" He nodded faintly. "Good. We need you to drink this potion to counteract the poison."
She supported his shoulders as he sat up a bit, and Snape handed him the bottle. The man looked at it and recognition flickered in his eyes. His free hand groped at the pouched on his belt and pulled out a vial full of a clear liquid. With one hand he unstoppered it and poured it into the bottle, and the potion hissed before turning a red-gold color. His gaze briefly met those of the Order members watching him, and he gave a small grin, raised the glass as a toast and said "L'Chaim!" before he downed the entire thing and fell immediately into a deep sleep.
Snape, a little indignant that someone dared to mess with one of his potions, snatched up the empty vial and bottle from the bed and peered intently at them, looking for traces of whatever the young man had added. Unfortunately for him, no residue was left on either container for him to test. He glared at the slumbering figure for a moment, then turned away. For a second there was silence, and then Percy asked "What does L'Chaim mean?" The professors looked clueless, but an Auror answered him. "It's a traditional Jewish toast meaning 'to life,'" she explained exhaustedly.
Madame Pomfrey turned to them, having determined that her patient would live until morning, and exclaimed, "All right, now let me see what damage you all have sustained." A chorus of grumbling answered her, but she refused to let anyone leave until all the combatants had been checked out and fed a bar of chocolate. In the midst of all the bandaging and mending, Dumbledore announce, "Owing to the lateness of the hour and everyone's fatigue, I insist you all stay here for the night. Guest rooms are being prepared, and we will meet in the morning after breakfast. Good night."
With that, the headmaster and professors left the hospital wing. The more seriously injured adults remained there under Madame Pomfrey's care, while the others were guided to their rooms by the house elves. Soon exhaustion claimed them all.
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The next morning, the whole of Gryffindor House came down to breakfast extremely late, looking tired but triumphant. The Slytherins were surly and irritable, having been the focus of many outpourings of excess jubilant energy in the form of pranks. The Ravenclaws were not too happy either, but they had a good reason. The Gryffindor team was being congratulated still and they were nothing short of ecstatic. But the professors noticed one exception: Harry Potter.
The star Seeker seemed quiet and pensive, ignoring the celebratory atmosphere around him and picking at his food without eating a bite. He had not acted this way since the end of last year, after Voldemort's rebirth. Ron and Hermione had also noticed their friend's behavior and kept sneaking glances at him, concerned. He obviously was not telling them something. Last night he had returned to the party after a meeting with Dumbledore in high spirits and spent most of the time laughing, joking and telling stories. Something had happened overnight, but what did he know?
Abruptly Harry stood and walked out of the Great Hall, oblivious to the sudden drop in volume as Hogwarts observed its Quidditch hero depart. Gradually conversations resumed, but now everyone felt a little subdued and the celebration fell a little flat. The professors present know something was wrong. Did Harry know about last night's attack, or the young man now sleeping in the hospital wing?
They would have to wonder later, for now it was time for the Order to debrief. Dumbledore had invited all the professors to attend and several chairs had been added around the marble table in the phoenix chamber when they arrived. The meeting began, and the headmaster gave brief introductions, then described the note that had appeared and its contents. Others explained the fight for Azkaban and Voldemort's alliance with the dementors, as well as the escaped prisoners. Finally Dumbledore told of the young man who had fought against the Death Eaters and was currently lying in the hospital wing.
Professor Flitwick spoke up. "I think Harry Potter knows something. He was out of sorts at breakfast and left early without eating. I haven't seen that sort of behavior out of him since last year, after the Third Task." There was a momentary silence; the Dumbledore summoned a house elf. "Find Harry Potter and bring him here, please." The little creature was off with a "snap!" and the discussion turned to the dementor threat. Suddenly Sirius broke in with "But how many dementors actually joined? Azkaban houses almost 200, but I didn't see nearly that many leaving when Voldemort ordered them out."
Theories and questions arose, but they were all interrupted by the house elf returning with Harry in tow. He seemed distracted and distant, not all there mentally, and barely acknowledged the others in the room. Dumbledore asked gently, trying to snap him out of it, "Harry, do you know about the attack last night?" "At Azkaban? Yeah." "How?"
"I had a . . . dream, a vision . . . but it was clearer, more real than anything I've ever seen. And not only the attack, but beforehand." Agitated, Harry paced the room. "The problem is some parts are blacked out. I can't remember them, and I've tried, but spells don't work. I can feel it's something important." Sirius tried to calm him. "Can you describe what you do remember?" Harry nodded and his eyes glazed over.
"A dark corridor made of ancient stone. Death Eaters leaving, carrying out Voldemort's orders for the raid. A dreadful cold, cutting right to the bone. Voldemort was speaking to a head floating in the black flames, something unspeakably evil . . . his master. I can't understand their words. Then Azkaban, someone sneaking in the prison before the Death Eaters, transporting the prisoners away. A golden light destroying scores of dementors, more fleeing. Voldemort showed up, the dementors joined him even as the Aurors arrived.
Fighting through the corridors, trying to escape. Two creatures appeared, demons, they spoke of a talisman and took Voldemort deep underground, beneath the prison. A black orb in crimson light, with purple eyes. I remember a fight, Voldemort wrestling with someone to get the talisman. He pulled a knife and stabbed the man. I can see everything crystal clear except for his face; I can't make out the face. The blade was poisoned. Voldemort used the demons to get back to his Death Eaters, the man went with them without being noticed. Voldemort escaped by Portkey, the demons vanished, the man collapsed. That's all I can remember." He rubbed his forehead, particularly the scar as he paced. "No, wait, I remember a sound. Something familiar." He frowned in concentration. "A voice, female, and . . . phoenix song."
The members of the Order of the Phoenix glanced at each other. "Well Harry, it appeared that you may know more than we do. We have a guest down in the hospital wing that I believe you need to meet." Dumbledore led the entire group to the infirmary, only to find their mystery man wide awake and eating while Madame Pomfrey fussed over him. She seem flustered and started to tell, well whine actually, to the headmaster when he walked in. "I just don't understand it. Yesterday he was supposed to be dead, even the phoenix tears barely kept him alive until the potion was ready. Today he's completely healed! But he's infuriating! Refuses to give me a name, or what he put in the potion, or even how old he is. Says he only wants to speak with you."
Dumbledore held up his hands in a placating gesture. "All right, calm yourself. I'll speak with him." She stalked off grumbling as he approached the bed. "Good morning," he began, but then the stranger's eyes fixed on Harry, standing right behind the headmaster. They stared at each other for long moments as if silently communicating, then Harry smiled and sat down on the bed.
"So how was the wrestling match?" The other chuckled. "I was kicking his arse until he pulled that knife. I didn't have enough time to grab my own weapons beforehand, so I settled for bashing his ugly face in. He fights dirty too," Wraith added with an ironic smile. Now Harry laughed. "What did you expect? An invitation to tea at the Riddle House?" "Only if it's our heads being served with the scones." "Speaking of that . . ."
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*This is unbelievably strange* Harry decided idly as he sat disguised on his bed, chatting with himself. Or rather, his clone. At any other time he probably would have been laughing his head off, and knew that Eva was by now. But he knew that misdirection at this point would help him in his campaign, so he'd save the joke for later. He mentally shrugged. *At this point I'm a good candidate for the mental wards.*
Suddenly Remus broke in to the monologue/dialogue. "How is it you two know each other?" Harry fought the urge to smirk as he glanced at his clone. "A mutual friend introduced us last fall, and we've kept in touch. Harry here has actually helped me out in a few tight spots." *Yeah, like when ditching class and sneaking out to hunt Death Eaters.* Dumbledore just shook his gray head. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Who are you?"
Harry smirked to himself but answered, "I have many names, but you may call me Wraith." "How did you know about the raid last night?" "I was snooping around old Voldie's fortress and overheard them. So I broke into Azkaban before they did and took most of the prisoners out to a protected area of my own, and killed over 60 dementors before the Death Eaters showed up. When you engaged them, I kept them busy on their flank until those demons came for Voldemort."
McGonagall interrupted, "Harry told us all of that, but what does that . . . talisman have to do with anything? Why did the Dark Lord want it?" Harry frowned. "I wish I knew. His master spoke of a ritual involving two talismans. The demons knew where the one was, but they are still searching for the second. I don't even know what exactly they're looking for, but I have to keep Voldemort from getting it." He sighed.
Snape changed the subject with an irritated sneer. "What did you add to my potion?" The disguised teen noted his irritation and was purposefully vague. "A mixture of my own. It can be added to any potion to speed up and enhance the effects, among other things." He grinned even as the Potions Master scowled. "By the way, who has that knife?" Snape pulled it out, a nasty expression still on his face, and threw it to Harry who caught it easily.
"Wraith" examined it closely. It had a razor sharp silver blade set in an ebony hilt, with tracings in an obscure script etched into both. He flipped it from hand to hand, testing the balance, then tossed it high in the air and caught it again. This display was making the professors nervous, but the clone simply watched, smirking knowingly. Wraith arched an eyebrow, the Harry double inclined his head in a barely perceptible nod, and their game began.
Wraith twirled the knife expertly as Harry stood up and casually walked to the opposite side of the room, then he threw it at him with a flick of his wrist. Harry caught it by the hilt and smoothly spun it around his arm, tossed it up to catch it behind his back, and hurled it back to Wraith, who let it come within inches of his face before seizing it out of the air. The females in the room all gasped, horrified, but the males for the most part watched carefully.
Wraith played a little with the poisoned blade before returning it to Harry to show off with. This time however, when Harry threw it back he included two of his own knives pulled from his wrist sheaths. Wraith caught two, spun one into the air as he snatched up the third and began juggling them. When he flung these across the room, he picked up the glass from the bedside table, transfigured it into a hunting knife just to make it harder and chucked it at Harry, all within the space of a heartbeat. Harry caught all four easily and juggled them, adding a few under the leg throws before gathering two in each hand and flinging them with all his considerable strength at Wraith's face, then pulled out two more boot knives and added them to the mix.
Wraith leaped up onto the bed and bounced, with a little help of some wandless magic, did a mid-air flip as he caught two, lobbed them into the air, grabbed the next two and bounced them off the mattress hilt-first, and snatched the last two right in front of his nose. He used the momentum to toss them back as the other two pairs of knives returned to his skilled hands.
The two Harrys juggled the blades back and forth, setting up a smooth rhythm between them as the knives flashed across the room in a deadly dance. Any skilled circus juggler team would be envious of their partnership, which was easily explained by the fact that they shared the same mind. They ignored Madame Pomfrey's protests and the professors' mutterings. Then the doors of the hospital wing flew open and Ron entered with Hermione, looking for Harry. They stopped dead in their tracks and gaped open-mouthed at their friend, who was playing with deadly weapons with a complete stranger in school.
Both Harrys noticed this intrusion and decided to wrap things up. They each grabbed three blades out of the air, spun, and threw them at the same time. The knives embedded themselves in the wood floor in an alternating pattern, perfectly spaced and in a straight line. The Harrys looked at each other, grinned and briefly bowed, and then began to gather up their toys, trying desperately not to laugh.
Professor McGonagall was the first to find her voice. "Just what the bloody hell did you two think you were doing?" She only cursed when she was extremely upset. Wraith smiled at the assembled group of elders. "Just checking if Harry here had kept up on his training." Harry also grinned. "Just making sure Wraith here was completely recovered." Sirius rolled his eyes and snorted. "You're going to give me gray hairs, kid."
*You have no idea.*
Madame Pomfrey nearly shrieked at them, "You two, are you trying to kill yourselves?! Did it conveniently slip your minds that one of those blades is poisoned with a deadly toxin?!" Wraith interrupted, "Well, actually, more than one." "WHAT?!" Pomfrey looked like she was about to have a stroke. He glanced over at Harry, who tried not to smile as he told her, "Two of mine were also."
"With what, pray tell?" "Well, this one," he held up one of his boot knives, "has a Firebrand potion, and this one," this time one from the wrist sheath, "a little bit of an exotic concoction made with poison from a South American dart frog. Both fairly lethal." Wraith continued in a conversational manner, "So we actually had three poisoned and three regular blades. Oh, I bet you want your glass back." He picked up the transfigured knife and changed it back with a "pop," then tossed it to the furious nurse who slammed it back down on the bedside table.
Ron and Hermione were still staring stupidly, so Harry walked over and introduced them. "This is my friend Wraith. He's been part of my training since last fall, and was involved in a skirmish last night at Azkaban. I believe you know about Ron and Hermione." The disguised Harry nodded at them politely, but inside he nearly broke his ribs to keep from laughing hysterically. This was just too much, himself introducing himself to his two best friends. Not even the Marauders could have pulled off something this twisted. He would need to talk with the two teens later.
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, with the Order questioning Wraith about his various activities. He purposely left a few things vague that had the potential of leading them to his true identity, and noticed that the double Harry followed his lead. In the end, he agreed to pass on any relevant information he heard to the Order, but refused to relinquish the prisoners he had taken from Azkaban. "They're safer where they are for now. Once Voldemort is defeated and Azkaban retaken, you can have them back, not before."
Dumbledore finally called an end to the gathering and invited Wraith to stay another night at Hogwarts, but he refused. "I have other things I must attend to, so I'll be leaving tonight. That is, if Madame Pomfrey will let me go." He flashed her a smile he knew to be both charming and infuriating, and her return glare clearly told him to get out of her sight as her patience was at an end. A few people chuckled, especially Sirius and Remus who knew the nurse's temper after years of experience. With that, the Order members left, most heading down to Hogsmeade to Apparate home while the professors went back to their quarters.
Wraith left with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they headed back toward the Gryffindor Tower. However, as they passed a portrait of a reclining lion, Wraith reached out and touched it in a certain place, then grabbed Ron's arm and tugged him inside the tunnel now revealed. Hermione had been holding Ron's other hand and was pulled along with him, and the clone Harry brought up the rear, closing the portrait behind him. They came to a room where the torches sprang to life at their arrival, revealing a very comfortably furnished lounge with a fireplace.
Wraith dropped Ron's arm and his disguise simultaneously, eliciting a number of stammers and wide-eyed looks of astonishment as both his friends stared back and forth between the identical "twins." At that point Harry could no longer contain himself and burst out laughing so hard tears leaked out his eyes. He tried to collapse on the couch, but missed and hit the floor, still gasping for breath between giggles. Hermione finally managed to speak. "Wha . . . what's going on?"
"Oh, come on Mione, you've met my clone before. You just didn't know it." Harry continued chuckling. A light of understanding appeared in her and Ron's eyes, and she nodded slowly as many things clicked. "Let's make this a little less confusing." Harry recalled the clone to him, and the two bodies fused into one, transferring and integrating memories. As soon as there was only one Harry once again, Ron spoke. "Wraith? Is that the best name you could come up with?" Harry shrugged. "Seemed appropriate to me. Don't you think so?" "Why didn't you tell them who you really were?" Hermione interjected.
"Think about it. If they knew, they'd ask a lot of questions I'm not ready to answer yet. I prefer keeping information limited to the three of us. They'd find out about the clone, all of my abilities, my contact with Eva, all of it. They'd overestimate me, even more than they do now. As it is, I like to keep a few surprises in store for Voldemort when we meet again. Plus I'm keeping you guys safe for now. He doesn't know I'm behind the losses he's taken."
He sighed. "Besides, you know how Remus and Sirius are. Imagine how much they'd freak out if they knew it was me who was at Azkaban and almost died last night." "WHAT?!" Harry winced; he had not meant to tell them that. Oh well. He recounted everything that happened last night, starting when he was called to Dumbledore's office. When he finished his tale, both his friends stared at him in astonishment and concern. Ron shook his head.
"Whoa Harry, this is wicked. How many Death Eaters did they spring?" "Near as I can tell, almost two dozen high ranking ones, including Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail." All three teen scowled. "Over 100 dementors survived to join Voldemort too." Harry sighed again. "We hurt him, but not nearly bad enough. And frankly, I'm worried."
Now Ron and Hermione were scared. Harry was their rock; he was not supposed to be scared of anything. "Whatever that head was, it clearly has an alliance with Voldemort. They can command the ancient demon armies and possess such a great power. I could feel it, a tremendous . . ." he waved a hand helplessly in the air, searching for the right word, "evil is the only way to describe it. This war is going to be harder and bloodier than I ever expected."
All three silently contemplated the dancing flames in the hearth, considering the words Harry had spoken. Ron stirred. "What are you going to do for the summer? Are you moving in with Sirius?" Harry shook his head. "I can't. He wants me to, but I can't." "Why not? Dumbledore approved it. And where else can you go?" "The Order of the Phoenix uses his house as a base of operations for some missions and intelligence gathering. If I lived there, I'd not only be under constant surveillance but also place all of them in danger. Well, more than they voluntarily put themselves in already. Plus it's a little too well known, thanks to the trial. As for where I'm going, I've already made my own arrangements. No one will be able to find me, and it's perfect for what I need to do."
Hermione looked pained. "When you said no one, does that include owl post?" Harry nodded. "But then how will we be able to contact you?" "I've taken care of that. I'll explain later." "We won't be able to see you all summer, will we?" "That's still up in the air. We'll see what the circumstances are. Oh, and just to be safe, I've increased the protection on your houses, so you don't have to worry about Death Eaters in your backyards. Still have to worry about tax collectors though." It was a very lame attempt at humor, but it was enough to break the solemn mood. After a few minutes of idle chatter, they headed back to Gryffindor Tower.
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Thankfully, there were no more Death Eater attacks for the rest of the school year, so Harry was able to concentrate on his OWLs, although it was only Potions he actually needed to study for. Even with that his increased mental faculties and innate understanding with how nature and magic interact made it much easier than it ever had been. He spent much of his time helping Ron and Hermione study or researching what could be found on demons and their abilities. Just the memory of that head Voldemort had summoned was enough to chill him to the bone.
The fifth years spent two full days on the OWL exams, both written and practical. Harry found them all ridiculously easy, and was the first one finished on each exam. The rest did not share his sentiments; even Hermione emerged from the last one (Transfiguration) looking pale and wrung out. But it was over, and they had a full week of school left before summer. The trio spent the majority of the spare time relaxing down by the lake, playing Gobstones or just talking. Ron and Harry still did their morning workout together, but lengthened it in the absence of classes. Harry was giving Ron tips on how to continue with his training over the summer, while Hermione looked interested yet amused.
One day Harry received a summons to Dumbledore's office. He figured it would be a discussion of his summer arrangements, and when he reached the circular room he knew he was right. Sirius and Arthur Weasley were both there with the headmaster, chatting animatedly. "Ah Harry, good of you to join us. Have a seat." Harry plunked himself down in a seat by the fireplace, resting his forearms on his thighs.
"Now, we have been discussing where you are to stay over the summer, as you certainly cannot return to the Dursleys. While there is a risk, we believe that you can move in with Sirius, then stay with the Weasleys for the last two weeks of the summer." Sirius leaned forward smiling. "Now that I've got a house, or rather a mansion, there's plenty of room, you can move in immediately. We can finally be a family. Remus is living there too," he added. "Three eligible and handsome bachelors in the ultimate bachelor pad. It'll be great!"
Sirius' enthusiasm was infectious, and Harry grinned, but it was a sad grin, a bit regretful. "I'm sorry Sirius, but I can't." "What? What do you mean you can't?" Sirius looked floored. "Where else can you go?" Harry sighed. "I want to live with you, I really do. It would be great to finally have a real family. But like you said, there is a risk, probably greater than you realize." He got up and paced to the window. "You know as well as I that Voldemort is obsessed with killing me. He will destroy anyone who gets in his way. I can't risk placing you in that kind of danger, and I won't allow myself to be trapped that easily."
Sirius opened his mouth, but Harry continued. "Your place is too obvious, too well known and well trafficked. I know that the Order uses it as a staging area- don't ask how," he warned, seeing the look on their faces. "This summer will be a crucial time in this war. You can't afford to babysit me, which is what you will want to do. And I don't need to be watched after. I've spoken to Wraith and I've made arrangements to go into hiding. No one will be able to find me. I know what I'm doing." Sirius looked wildly at Dumbledore. "Albus . . ."
"Harry's right." Both Sirius and Harry were surprised. "He will be safer out of the public eye, and out of the way of the Order. No offense Harry, but you do tend to attract attention and trouble. Are you sure no one will be able to find you?" "Positive. I've tested it. Not even the owl post can find it, let alone Death Eaters. Oh, and I have something for all of you." Harry produced three sheets of parchment.
"These are instant messengers, similar to Muggle computers. Just write the name of the person you want to write to, then the message, and tap it as you say 'send.' When your parchment receives a message, it glows blue until you tap it and say 'receive,' and the note will appear. It's untraceable and fast. I'm also giving one to Ron, Hermione, and Remus. I can make more, but it'll take a little time."
Dumbledore appeared impressed, while Sirius and Arthur were fascinated. "How did you make these?" Harry only gave a secretive smile. "The library can be your friend."
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All too soon, the students of Hogwarts were packed, stuffed full from the Leaving Feast, and on the Hogwarts Express heading back to King's Cross station. Fred and George hid their sadness about this being their last trip by testing every single one of their Weasley Wizard Wheezes on any student, particularly Slytherins that happened to come across them. Harry presented his friends with their IM parchments and explained how to use them. He also decided to give one to Ginny on the spur of the moment, following an inexplicable intuition, and promised to keep them updated on anything important.
They played several games of Exploding Snap and laughed at the twins' antics. When the train pulled into London, everybody changed back to Muggle clothes and disembarked, passing through the gate back into Muggle London. Their families were waiting there for them.
"Bye Harry. Be safe," Hermione said and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before kissing Ron goodbye and joining her parents. The crowd of Weasleys was very visible among the masses of Muggles due to their red hair, and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry an extra hug, her worry for him evident. "Don't take too many chances this summer, dear. Will you be coming to the Burrow later?" "I hope so. Don't worry, I'll let you know." He gave her a reassuring smile, shared a handshake with Mr. Weasley, then threw a thumbs- up to Ron as they walked away.
He waited until the family had driven away in the Ministry limo before shrinking his belongings and pocketing them, then Apparated to his new house. Harry unpacked quickly and surveyed his room, then the entire house. Everything was perfect for his plans. He decided to relax a bit before going to bed, so he transfigured his clothes into swimming trunks, walked outside to the pool and dove in. As he swam, he was very grateful for the charm that kept the area around his house in a perpetual state of summer. The real weather outside was rather chilly and damp. He loved swimming, the sense of the water flowing, supporting his body even as he fought his way through it.
He finally emerged, dripping puddles that vanished as if soaked up by and invisible sponge, to find his IM parchment flashing blue. He grinned and shook his head as he received the messages. It seemed like every person who had one had sent him a message, either just testing it or worrying about his safety. Apparently the "Harry" hand on the Weasley clock was just spinning endlessly again, same as it had when he had disappeared last summer. Harry wrote back saying he was fine and suggesting that they put a new destination on the clock: You Don't Want To Know. After answering all the inquiries, he climbed the stairs back up to his room, quickly changed into pajamas and collapsed on the bed, falling immediately into a deep sleep.
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Nightmares were a given if you were Harry Potter. Every night since returning to his dimension, he had had at least one per night, but usually several. If it was not memories of the Third Task and the graveyard, then it was any selection of his encounters with Voldemort from years before. Then there were the visions, as his connection with the Dark Lord gave him a ringside seat to torture and murder. These had died down a bit since the Light Mark was first cast into the sky, but now they returned in full force. The only difference for Harry was that now he had devised a spell to let him record the dream and go back to sleep after he woke up yelling. That way he would not become psychotic from sleep deprivation. That was the last thing anybody needed.
About a week into the summer, the dreams changed. Harry was standing at the edge of a large ancient city, but by looking at it, one could not have guessed that it was older than Man. Harry could sense it, however; the age and wisdom that it was imbibed in, the magical wave that emanated from it, making the very air throb and his skin tingle. He waited, and soon a person appeared before him.
She was tall, thin, and possessed of an unearthly beauty that made his breath catch in his throat. Her hair gleamed silver, the same shade as her eyes and the trim on her black robes. For all her indescribable beauty, something about her warned Harry that there was something ancient and powerful about this woman; something deadly. This was confirmed when she introduced herself.
"Greetings young phoenix. I am Lady Death." Harry's eyes threatened to pop out of his head. "Do not look so frightened, I am not here on my usual business." A small inaudible sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he even felt bold enough to say, "I've always thought Death was an old man with a scythe and hourglass." "I am sometimes portrayed that way, as I have taken that form at times to accomplish my goals. But that is beside the point."
"In only a year you have grown and accomplished so much. Yet you hide so much of it from normal eyes. Why?" Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I just don't like all the attention. That's why I created Wraith, so people wouldn't know it was me. And being underestimated can be useful in a war." Death actually chuckled. "Yes. Wraith; an apt name for your work. You have done a fine job handling the powers you possess and using them properly. Yet for all your abilities, circumstances have changed. You are no match for Voldemort now."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face and he stammered, "Wh . . what? Why not?" Death looked rather grim. "He has entered into an alliance with the Prince of Darkness, Lucifer himself. The talismans he is collecting are essential for a ritual that would allow Lucifer to possess Voldemort entirely, transferring every ounce of his power into the human shell and granting immortality. When that happens, no one will be able to stop him, not even you. Darkness will overshadow the earth and enslave humanity for all time, magic and Muggle alike."
Harry felt sick and cold. "So after everything I've done, all that I've sacrificed and sweated for, there's nothing I can do?" "I did not say that," Death admonished him. "You have to find the second talisman. If you get it and destroy it, the ritual cannot take place and Voldemort will remain as he is, powerful but mortal. Then you will be able to destroy him." Harry nodded with determination shining in his eyes. "Where is the talisman?"
Death sighed softly. "I do not know. The two were created for an ancient purpose, long since forgotten. A disaster occurred and this city was banished to this place, destroyed in your world and curse because of these objects. They were separated and hidden on opposite sides of the world, hoping they would never be found again. This happened long before the founders ever conceived the idea of Hogwarts, before humans ever discovered the existence of magic. Any living memory has long since been erased by the winds of time. The only records remaining of their existence reside in two places. One the demons are currently searching for, an ancient library buried in your world. But the other is untouched in my realm, sealed from everybody but the One worthy to find the ancient relics."
Harry looked skeptical and slightly irritated. *Not another one. Why does this always happen to me? Let someone else save the world for once.* "You think that the One is me?" he asked, traces of his emotions creeping into his cold tone. Death nodded solemnly. "You can only enter this realm through dreams. So while you are here, you must search the archives for the location of the talisman. We have little time left here together. I will explain more at another time, and you will begin your search tomorrow." She turned and started to disappear into the city. "Wait! How do you know I am the One?" Harry called after her, but it was too late.
She vanished and a moment later he felt himself flying upwards, then back in his own bed he sat up abruptly with a gasp, sweat pouring off of him. He jumped up and staggered into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed he looked like death; the phrase stirred his memory. He concentrated on remembering the dream, but it slipped away just like the water through his fingers, details flowing away as he focused on them. He hung his head as he leaned on the sink and muttered, "Damn."