A/N: Happy New Year!! I had this chapter ready as of last year, but ff.net decided to piss me off and wouldn't let me upload this chapter for the past 4 weeks. Sorry to all those who have been waiting.
By the overwhelming decision of the majority, it has become apparent that this universe holds one certain and undeniable truth:
I AM EVIL
There is a thin line between madness and genius. I cross it often.
It seems that I have succeeded in confusing the whole lot of you, especially with the whole clone issue and which Harry was really Harry and which died. I have also succeeded in making a lot of people cry or scream curses in my direction. That was my intention. Everything is completely screwed up right at the moment, and no one really knows what's going on. Except for me!! So hang in there, I'm about to confuse you even more. The full explanation is coming later.
It also seems that I've become a bit of an addiction to some people. Well, I've been addicted to writing this story for a year and a half now, so I'm glad that it's paying off. I figure that if I can't sleep, I'll post this and make sure you can't either. So thanks to everyone who reviewed, and even to those who read without reviewing. You guys and your encouragement make this all worthwhile.
Speaking of addictions, the whole thing with Harry and the talisman is not intentionally based off of Gollum and Lord of the Rings. While I am a big fan, Harry is not going to be calling it his Precious. The same essential idea lies behind the power of the talisman however, how it draws people in to obtain it and use it. It's mainly a safety mechanism. But it has no master. Just to clarify things a little bit.
Answered some reviews at the bottom. Read if you want.
Dedicated to Bladeliger786, who pestered me incessantly until I could post.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his universe, and I'm not making any money off of this. The FINE acronym comes from "The Italian Job." I own the Guardians, Eva, and practically all the other realms of this screwed up universe. If you don't recognize it, then it's also mine, but I'm still not making any money off of it. Pity.
Chapter 33
Voldemort laughed.
It was not a nice laugh.
It was terrible joy and triumph and blood thirst and conquest and anticipation and fear and power lust all wrapped up in a sound only comparable to the shrieks of the Furies flying into battle.
It echoed through the oppressive air hanging over the farthest reaches of the Forbidden Forest, mixing with the ashes and dust and debris that was once the mighty castle of Hogwarts, to shatter the hopes and dreams of the people who once called it home and safety.
Voldemort stood in a clearing lined with knotted tangled trees, all yews of ancient times scowling under the dim dull brown of the sky, perfect for this ritual. The Death Eaters who had survived the resistance at Hogwarts stood at attention in a circle, watching their Master as he prepared the final steps for the ceremony. Not one of them dared move, despite the unnatural chill of the air that had little to do with weather and a lot to do with the presence they could feel lurking just out of mortal sight.
At their Master's beckon, the Death Eaters drew closer, forming a tighter circle of living bodies around a pentacle burned into the grass and drawn in blood. The first talisman lay at the center, the shocking purple/silver 'eyes' piercing through flesh and bone to the souls beneath as it seemed to glare at the Death Eaters. The ebony surface appeared to pulse with a living rhythm, drawing energy from the surroundings.
A cackle from Voldemort managed to draw most of their attention away from the nearly living object at the center, as he finished one last spell on their surroundings and tossed his wand aside. Soon he never need bother with such a crude form of magic any more. He stepped into the center of the pentacle, the second talisman held firmly in his right hand, the clean lines and glint of steel no longer pure, but sinister.
Voldemort stood there in the exact center for a long moment, and the Death Eaters dared not even to breathe. The air hung thick with anxious anticipation, tainted with fear. Finally he spoke, softly hissing, "At your command, Master."
A chill breeze blew, as if something monstrous was inhaling, drawing everything towards the center. Then a voice, shrill as a howling cat on a chalkboard yet rumbling with the deepest thunder, echoed from all around. "Now. You may begin."
The orb talisman throbbed with energy, a ring of dark flames surrounding it at Voldemort's feet licking low to the ground. Ignoring it, Voldemort called out, "Lucius Malfoy, my faithful servant, step forward." The man straightened, visibly suppressing a shiver even as he approached his chosen Master. At a look he knelt just outside the carved lines, bowing low and keeping his eyes to the ground.
Voldemort smiled a death's head grin, full of rotting pointed teeth and malicious mischief. "You have proven yourself to me. Now you will receive your reward." Lucius rose and stood with the pride of a Malfoy, letting a tiny smug smile drift across his lips as he looked the Dark Lord straight in the eye. It was his turn for power – this was what all he had wanted to accomplish by joining the Darkness.
Then his eyes bulged out, his mouth falling open as he gasped for air, tasting blood on his tongue. Voldemort withdrew the dagger, now shiny with wet blood, as the elder Malfoy expelled all the air in his lungs from the new hole in his trachea. One hand reached up slowly to his neck, and he stared at the blood now seeping down his black robes in a crimson tide.
At a whispered command, the blood ceased soaking the cloth and began running down like water on plastic. He felt a curious draining and sucking sensation swirling through his body, drawing upwards and out. Lucius could only watch as his blood, his precious pure bred blood, dripped off at his feet, pooling then draining into the grooves made in the grass by the pentacle, filling them in.
Ice crept up through his body, sucking all strength and leaving only emptiness behind. His vision wavered as black encroached, narrowing down to a pinpoint of light in the distance.
As he dimly felt his body fall to the ground, that light flickered, then was snuffed out with a blast of icy wind.
The pentacle glowed balefully with red light, streamed through the thick liquid lining it. The orb pulsed stronger yet as the ebony flames grew higher, fluttering like raven's wings while leeching all heat from the air. The Death Eaters were panicking like animals, fighting to get away and save themselves. But in mind only; the spells on the clearing held them firmly in place, moving not a muscle until their Master called them forward for their reward.
Voldemort examined the knife with almost adoring attention, then licked a line of blood from the steel blade. A hissing breath signaled his satisfaction, and he extended one hand, long pale finger crooked in invitation as he beckoned his next follower to him.
************************************************************
Despite the fact that it was nearly noon, the forest was dark as pitch and nearly as filthy. Snape utilized this to his advantage, creeping stealthily through the haze and following his path back to Hogwarts.
Or what was left of it.
Everyone who had managed to make it to the mountains had seen and felt it as Hogwarts disappeared in a huge explosion, flame and smoke erupting like an enraged volcano. All the magic tied to the school had vanished, imploding with a violent rushing wind that had carried the debris further up, until the smoke and ash blotted out the sun, creating this unnatural dusk.
Unsure of how the battle had ended, Snape had the wound in his side healed quickly by a subdued Madame Pomfrey, then began the treacherous path back to his former home. The forest was silent aside from the occasional crack and rumble of trees shattered on impact from falling stone, and Snape crept through it as swiftly as possible, not eager to be crushed himself.
Soon he emerged from the forest, hiding among the burnt skeletons of trees at the edge to survey the grounds. What he saw shook even his calloused heart. Death lay like a smothering blanket on once peaceful landscape, present in the oozing blood, mangled bodies and shattered ruins. The air itself was foul, thick with stench and ash, choked with decay and blood and smoke. Nothing even moved aside from a few guttering fires where a proud castle once stood.
Snape stepped out from cover, knowing that nothing alive remained here but needing to check for himself. He drew up part of his cloak around his mouth to breath through as he gingerly began making his way around a pile of demon corpses. Then he heard the whine and stopped, searching for its origin.
The low sound of an animal in pain came again, followed by a couple weak yips. Snape knew those sounds. Quickly he headed in their direction, kicked aside a couple carcasses, and found him. A silver wolf lay panting and wounded on its side, hot blood matting its fur to its ribs. Snape swore softly before he asked with incredulity, "Lupin?"
A quick yip confirmed his instincts, and Snape knew he wasn't safe, not with this transformation. But maybe he could reverse it, as it had nothing to do with the natural lunar cycle. Drawing his wand, he muttered feverishly, "Finite transmorphium," hoping this had enough power to undo it. If not, it might just make the wolf mad, and then he was really dead.
A beam of sunny-yellow light enveloped the wolf, and slowly, agonizingly, he began to change back into Remus. Snape watched with impassive eyes as bones cracked and reformed, stretching skin like wax over the new shapes, fur gradually sinking back into their follicles. Sharp canine fangs withdrew to normal teeth as paws expanded and elongated into fingers and hands.
Finally the man lay shuddering and bleeding on the torn-up earth, his eyes closed as he panted shallowly and coughed. Luckily his wound didn't appear that deep, and Snape managed to at least seal it with a few healing charms, which he had grudgingly learned even though he much preferred potions.
Once he knew Remus would live, he tried to get him to rise. "Come on Lupin, we need to leave," he hissed as he half-pulled the werewolf upright. "No," came the weak, pain-filled response, "no . . . I . . . Harry, oh God . . . I didn't . . ." Snape shook him roughly. "What happened? What about Potter?" Remus only moaned softly and hung his head.
"Where is he?" Snape gritted out, patience gone, but Remus was sinking into shock and didn't answer. Easing him back to the ground, Snape started a quick search for the teen, dread prickling at his gut. Potter hadn't made it back to the mountains, either one of them, and if Remus was any indication, something had gone seriously wrong.
Reaching an area relatively clear of demons, he halted as his eyes went wide at the horrific sight. Surrounded by fallen foundation stones, Harry lay there on the burned grass, eyes blankly staring at the sky above the blood-darkened blade protruding from his chest.
Snape swore quietly with feeling and stood there staring, as the last faint flicker of hope he had carefully nurtured died. With Potter dead, they had lost. Voldemort had the talisman. It was only a matter of time, maybe a handful of days at the very best, before he wiped out the Hogwarts survivors and last of the resistance.
Snape painfully straightened and with a short spell had the mangled body floating after him, albeit deprived of its new piercing. They may have lost, but that didn't mean they would quit fighting. Snape wasn't the type to wait quietly for doom to crash down on his head. A blaze of glory was much too Gryffindor for his liking, but as long as he took a few of his enemies with him, it would be good enough.
Shaking himself from these dour and unhelpful thoughts, Snape carefully made his way back to where Remus lay curled in a shaking ball. He shook the man's shoulder until he looked up, and said softly, "Let's go." Realizing the wards were down and wouldn't prevent him, Snape took hold of both Harry and Remus, and Apparated to the mountain cave, leaving the battlefield to the silence of death.
Or maybe not.
Snape had missed one.
*****************************************************
Harry floated in a massive sea of pain and weariness, barely aware of his surroundings. Even the huge stone pinning his leg painfully to the ground hardly attracted undue attention. He vaguely thought that it must have broken his leg when it landed, but the agony of being ripped in half and the shock of Hogwarts exploding made that bit of pain trivial.
But as his body begged to be relieved of this unbearable torment, his mind stubbornly rebelled against it. His talisman had been taken from him, and he would do anything to get it back. He could feel it getting farther away, and instinctively he tried to get up and follow it. Weakly he managed to prop himself up on his elbows, but a single tug at his trapped leg sent such a crashing wave of pain through him he fell back, gasping against the darkness encircling his vision.
It did clear his mind however, and his anger sharpened his focus marvelously. He lay on the blood-soaked ground and tried to assess his situation analytically. His clone was dead and half his soul gone; his magic severely depleted; Hogwarts evacuated and destroyed; Voldemort had the talisman and had gone to do the ritual which would make him immortal and invincible.
Basically, it didn't look good. At all.
He remembered Lady Death's warnings when he had first refused to destroy the talisman per her orders, and winced. This was all his fault, and now he was helpless here, unable to do anything but wait until Voldemort/Lucifer came back to finish him off.
Or maybe not.
Staring blankly up at the clouds of smoke and dust hanging low in the sky, Harry realized he could do one thing. It was risky, but not more so than staying here, plus he was fairly confident it would work. After all, he had done something similar before although not deliberately. He took a deep breath of foul air and closed his eyes, turning his senses and whatever scraps of magic he could reach inward.
He could still sense, albeit faintly, the nearly nonexistent link that had once connected his soul together in one whole. He could follow it, he knew he could. And he even had a pretty good idea where his other half had gone.
Time to have a chat with Lady Death.
Now he turned his attention to his heart, thudding with life, doggedly restraining him here to this plane of existence. Gathering his strength, Harry set all his magic and will on stopping that beat.
His heart beat, skipped, beat again, paused, beat twice, struggled to maintain a life rhythm. Harry's senses dimmed and faded away, leaving only this trembling organ and its echoing thunder that slowed more and more, but still blocked him from the dark path where the link shone faintly. This was the last obstacle.
One last thrust of magic, a shouted command.
*STOP!!*
It quivered, then was still. The dark path lay open. Instant of eternal silence.
Then the battlefield held only the dead.
*****
The first thing Harry was aware of was the screams.
The screams of the damned, burning, melting, decaying in an endless lake of fire.
The screams and cackles of demons feasting on ill-spilt blood.
The screams of souls plunging headlong to destruction and powerless to stop it.
The screams of a mother forced to watch her child be ripped apart before her eyes.
The screams of souls rushing by him for the world left behind, terrified of the unknown and emerging, still screaming.
The screams of a man as every bone in his body was snapped into tiny fragments.
But most of all, as the others faded in the distance, the screams of utter rage that echoed over the plains of the dead, screams originating from a furious Fate.
"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!!! YOU MAGGOTY DISEASE-RIDDEN PILES OF STINKING RAT ENTRAILS!!! GET YOUR LOUSY BASTARD CARCASSES BACK HERE NOW!!!"
Harry opened his eyes to find himself lying flat on his back in a hilly field of soft fern-like grass, staring up at a sky so brilliantly blue it seemed overlaid with white and gold. Of course, the fact that the sky also seemed to be spinning erratically in his vision convinced him that it probably wasn't a good idea to move anytime soon. Besides, there was a strange thumping under his head that he wasn't sure whether it came from his skull or not.
That question was solved when he heard two laughing voices approach – he was hearing their running footsteps on the ground. "That was . . . bloody brilliant," one panted as they stopped just out of Harry's field of view, hidden by the tall grass. "Indeed . . . I don't believe . . . we've ever heard anyone . . . scream that loud."
"Not Ginny when she found her dolls shaved bald . . ." "Not Ron when we turned his teddy into a spider . . ." "Not even Percy when we showed Penny that naked baby photo . . ." They broke up laughing again, and Harry closed his eyes with a smile to hear the infamous Weasley twins in their element.
Suddenly a very familiar voice interrupted, "What did you two do now?" That was Ginny, amusement shining through each word. "Why, darling Gin-Gin, you gave us the idea."
"Yes. Remember in our third year we said we'd send you a Hogwarts toilet seat?" "We decided to leave Fate a gift in her room since she keeps popping up to bother Death."
Loud feminine laughter joined them, and Harry could identify at least three different voices. Then Tori asked, "How many?" Fred answered with clear satisfaction, "Chaos helped us a lot. By the time we finished, we couldn't walk into the room."
A whole group of people were roaring with laughter now, and Harry reveled in the pure sound of it. It had been so long since he'd heard such unrestrained glee. Sirius barked out a particularly loud laugh and said lazily, "You know, it isn't exactly the smartest thing to go pranking Fate."
George shrugged and said pointedly, "It wasn't all that smart to go prank Snape in his own dormitory either, but that never stopped some people."
Fred grinned. "Besides, she deserved it." George nodded enthusiastically. "It was harmless . . . mostly."
"Chaos' trap won't hurt . . . that much."
"Just a little fun."
"She'll get over it."
Dumbledore shook his head with a grin. "I seriously doubt that boys. More likely she will nurse her grudge for the rest of eternity, cursing the fact that she can't do anything in retaliation."
There was a general noise of consensus, and Harry opened his eyes to find that the world had stopped spinning around him. He should try to get up and find Death before his time here ran out. He stretched a bit, finding all of his muscles working despite the pain that still throbbed through him. But even that had diminished to manageable levels, probably now as his other half was closer than a universe away.
Then Lily spoke up, and Harry froze to listen to her voice. "Has anyone seen Death lately? Destiny, Chaos and Time were all looking for her earlier." Cedric shrugged and settled casually back into the grass. "So was Love. Word is that she's locked herself away in the city somewhere, savoring her newest acquisition. At least according to the new arrivals."
James grumbled, "There sure are a lot of them today. Good thing most of them don't stick around here. But I saw a whole group that looked like students just a bit ago." Percy cleared his throat, apparently wanting to leave that subject alone. "By the way Ron, what do you think of it here so far?"
Harry started; he had forgotten. He listened with a strange ache of sadness as Ron answered slowly, "Well, it's nice and all, and a great change from . . . well, the war and all . . . but," he sighed. "I miss Hermione. I keep remembering the last time I saw her face . . . how devastated she was. And Harry too."
He paused, then said with a savage relish, "At least she took care of Malfoy. And then Death exiled him down . . ." He snorted softly. Lily drew in a little breath and blew it out. "At least you haven't seen either of them here," she reminded Ron, who startled a bit. "Oh . . . yeah, I guess . . . you're right."
Harry chose that moment to sit up and take stock of his surroundings. The group of about a dozen sat off to his left on the opposite side of the crest of the hill, only a few meters away. Smiling in relief at the familiar faces, Harry scrambled to his feet and walked over to them. At the sound of his approach, they all turned and eyes went wide.
Ron gaped for a moment, then jumped to his feet and hugged him tightly. "Harry! When did . . . how . . . ah hell mate, good to see you!" James and Lily were right behind, and as soon as Ron released him they swept their son in a massive hug for the first time. Harry felt his shoulder grow wet with his mum's tears, and had to blink back his own.
Eventually they broke away, and Sirius ruffled his hair with a grin. "Nice to see your hair back to normal, even if it does look like you stood on your head in a tornado." "What?" Harry reached a hand up, and to his surprise the long heavy braid was gone, replaced by his infamous short and wildly untamable mop, exactly like his dad's.
Smiling widely, he shook his head free from the extra weight and commented, "Well, that's a relief. Unexpected, but good." Ginny snickered and ran a hand through his hair. "I like it. This suits you anyways." Lily laughed and ruffled James' hair. "We can tell exactly where you got that from now."
James shrugged out from under Lily and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, looking at once joyful but solemn. "Harry, I'm sorry to see you here, but still, seeing you again is just . . ." He smiled, unable to find words to describe the feeling. Ron suddenly looked despondent. "So, if you're here, then Hermione is all alone." He looked around, half fearful and half hopeful. "She's not . . . she's not going to follow you here, is she?"
Harry shook his head. "She's safe with your family for the moment. And I'm not staying." Everyone seemed startled, then Sirius barked out a laugh. "You're just dropping in for a visit again? At least this time you said hello. And how do you keep bypassing the entrance?"
Harry frowned, so James explained, "Everyone who comes here first arrives in the city to meet Lady Death, before she sends them out here. You just keep popping in from nowhere."
Harry shrugged and quirked a small smile. "Yeah, well, I'm a little unorthodox. I still have some unfinished business back there. But I need to talk to Death." Tori snorted. "Usually people try to avoid her company, not seek her out."
Harry grimaced. "Something's going on with the Guardians, and it's all centered around the talisman, Lucifer, Voldemort and me. Someone's screwing someone over, I know it."
Sirius nodded darkly. "Yeah. We're the ones getting screwed. We're not supposed to be here." Harry looked up sharply. "What?" Everyone nodded, grim expressions on their faces. "We're not supposed to be here," Fred reiterated.
"Y'know, that whole blood, gore, fire and death upon your head and why don't you come meet Lady Death? Not supposed to happen, at least not yet," George clarified.
James bumped Sirius' shoulder with a playful grin. "Padfoot here even picked a fight with Death after she brought him here. I thought that if she was a man, he would have decked her." Lily swatted his shoulder. "Look who's talking, Mr. I-pranked-Death-because-I-was-sulking-over-being-killed."
James put on a perfect doe eyed expression of innocence. "Tell me again, who was it who actually slapped Death across the face when she realized her son was all alone?"
Lily turned a bit red as Harry grinned at her. "Mum? You slapped Death?" She nodded a bit shamefully, then straightened. "It served her right. She even admitted that she wasn't supposed to have done anything with us, but she did anyways and left you alone with my awful sister."
Harry furrowed his brow with confusion. "How could she do that? She's a Guardian; there are rules they have to follow. She'd be going against the entire order of her existence." Tori arched an eyebrow wryly. "Well, apparently she's breaking the rules then. What can they do? Kill her?"
Sirius frowned, eyes fixed on Harry. "She said it wasn't her call, that she was just following orders from someone else. When I asked, she said, 'Ask your godson.'" Now they were all staring at Harry, who was growing more perplexed by the second.
He raked a hand through his hair and confessed, "I have no idea what she's talking about. I haven't spoken to Death since the first episode with the Dream Stand." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "You mean, you're spoken with Death before?"
Harry nodded, even more confused. "She's the one who directed me to the talisman and let me search the shadow archives for its location. She also showed me the dream in Voldemort's throne room that allowed me to rescue Snape."
Fred and George exchanged glances, then slowly George said, "Fate said something about Death meddling in something she shouldn't . . ." "Because that's Fate's job," Fred finished with a little grin. "She's been really mad about that."
Harry turned and frowned in the direction of the City of the Dead, not liking the picture that was beginning to coalesce in his brain. "I need to speak with Lady Death," he said abruptly, and as he started for the city at a fast clip, the others followed.
Sirius came up beside him and asked softly, "Harry, how are you doing?" "I'm fine," the teen answered shortly, and Sirius snorted. "You do know that 'fine' is really an acronym for Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?"
Harry couldn't help but smile at that. "In that case, I'm perfectly fine."
Ron tapped his shoulder as he matched his long stride. "Harry, what happened? With the battle I mean. How'd you get here?" Harry sighed. "The battle was a complete disaster. I'm not sure, but I think we got about two-thirds of the students evacuated to the cave and took out a good portion of the Death Eaters. But in the end the last of us ran with our tails tucked. He had some demons in reserve, and surrounded us on the lawn, but everyone else managed to get to the forest. Except me, Harry and Remus."
Ron nodded. "You were Wraith." "Yeah," Harry scrubbed at this face with his hands, noting the pain that still wracked his body just under his conscious mind was slowly easing with every step taken towards the city. "Voldemort forced Remus to transform, and the werewolf went after Harry."
Lily gasped behind him. "He didn't hurt him," Harry hastened to add, hating every word, "but somehow Harry fell on his sword, and it impaled him through the back."
He winced in remembrance, hearing the sharp indrawn breaths around him. "I felt him die. Half of me just suddenly ripped away to leave a great bloody hole. I couldn't move it hurt so bad." The twins nodded sympathetically, knowing exactly how that felt.
"Voldemort found me there and stole the talisman. When he left, they blew up Hogwarts. Basically nothing remains." He kept striding forward with his eyes straight ahead, determined not to let them see how badly it affected him, and for a while they marched in silence.
Finally Ginny asked softly, "Harry, how did you get here?" Harry didn't answer for a long moment, and she was about to ask again when he finally spoke. "I . . . my body was trapped under one of the foundation stones. I didn't have enough strength to lift it off by magic. I couldn't move, and I wasn't going to wait around for Voldemort to come back and finish me off. So . . . I used what magic I could . . . and I . . . I stopped my heart."
Ginny inhaled sharply. "Suicide?" she murmured unhappily, "but that . . ." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I need to speak with Death, and this was the only way I know." He tried to smile at her, but it came off as a twisted grimace. "Besides, does it count if you don't stay dead?"
"How do you know that you won't?" she countered with a touch of fire. "You've been here a long time already." He shrugged. "I'm guessing. But I've never stayed dead before, and besides, Death owes me one. Or two, or a few."
Now they were skirting through the edges of the city, the others clearly jumpy even as they followed Harry. "We've never come this far in before," Cedric whispered, glancing warily around. The city seemed to frown upon their presence, but undeterred Harry managed to lead them to the center, where just as in the City of the Guardians, a giant library stood.
Fred tried to lighten the mood as Harry lifted his fist to knock. "Harry, hasn't anybody ever told you never to knock on Death's door?" George nodded sagely. "Just ring the bell and run. Death hates that." James grinned. "Playing Ding Dong Duck with Death. Should have thought of that one ages ago."
Harry rolled his eyes and knocked sharply three times. The door swung open, and Death's voice floated out to him. "Do come in, young phoenix. Your friends must stay outside." They all looked more than happy to stay where they were, but as Harry stepped forward Sirius put a hand on his shoulder. "Careful Harry, she likes to be purposely cryptic."
Harry nodded in acknowledgement, then walked through the door, which immediately slammed shut behind him. He felt his feet carrying him along a dizzying maze of corridor without any input from his brain, and knew that unless Death let him out, he would be lost in here forever. Finally he turned a corner and walked into a room that at first made him think he had stepped outside.
The ceiling glowed with the same blue-white-gold, grass swished underfoot, and a fresh breeze stirred through his hair as he looked around, trying to find the entrance that he had just walked through. He quickly forgot about that when he looked forward again. Lady Death stood there, incongruous in the verdant grass in her austere silver and black. At her feet sat Harry, arms casually draped over his drawn-up knees, watching him intently.
Death sighed. "Do you know, young phoenix, that most suicides go to hell?" Harry frowned. "Why is that? Why do you punish those who want to embrace you early?" Death arched an eyebrow. "Because they're usually too depressing to keep around here. It's one of the cruel ironies of the universe."
Harry rolled his eyes as he snorted softly. "Yeah, it seems to be full of those. But this isn't about suicide, it's about solutions." Harry at her feet piped up wryly, "Death isn't the answer, she just has them."
Harry eyed him. "Speaking of that, what happened between us? How did he become autonomous?" Death frowned slightly. "Did I not tell you to destroy the talisman as soon as you found it?"
Harry protested, "Yes, but the documents I found said that it would be next to impossible to destroy. Even the Guardians couldn't do it without the risk of something seriously going wrong."
Death shook her head. "If you had followed instructions, you would have found those to be true for anyone but you. Just as the One of prophecy could be the only one to claim it, so he could be the only one to destroy it safely."
He frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. How was I supposed to do something the Guardians can't?" Death almost smiled. "While we could not ourselves, we could ordain someone else to do it for us. It's one of the loopholes in the laws of the universe. We cannot break them, but we can bend them. You were even given instructions on how to do it."
Harry shook his head. "What instructions? And what does this have to do with him?" He gestured with irritation at his counterpart, and Death calmly clasped her hands in front of her. "You were given instructions on your birthday, and it has everything to do with him. The talisman's powers are far too strong for a mortal to withstand for long. It changed you.
"With using your clone, it split you into two people. Did you not notice that it was only after you recovered the talisman that you, Wraith, were willing to kill? That you were not above grandstanding, or that you let your anger feed your magic and increase your power? The talisman removed your inhibitions and changed you. The clone was more Harry than you were."
Harry scowled at that. "Why didn't you tell me before? I would have destroyed it if I knew it was affecting me." Death shrugged. "Would you have? The dagger talisman, once claimed, attached itself to you. It made you want to protect it, to keep it from Voldemort, to keep away from the orb talisman. I told you to destroy it, thinking that you would have before it managed to start affecting you. Instead you used it to pick a fight."
He glared. "Again, why didn't you tell me that? It could have saved us a lot of grief." She met his glare with an impartial one of her own. "It was not my place. It was all in the instructions Fate gave you." Harry muttered, "And we're back to the damn instructions. What do you mean? I've never spoken with Fate."
"No, you have not," she agreed placidly, "but all the Guardians can appoint one of the Shamak'la to do what needs to be done. You do not need to speak to Fate for her to order you around. She meddles quite enough by being invisible."
"Like you, you mean," he shot back in frustration. "Sirius was right. You are being cryptic."
The corners of Death's mouth twitched in an almost smile. "I am answering you quite clearly. It is you who is not asking the right questions."
Harry exchanged an exasperated look with Harry and sighed heavily. "Fine. According to the prophecy, I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort. But now that he has the talisman, he's got Lucifer with him. So if he has help, I need help. Can you help me?"
Death stared at him. "You are asking me to violate my Code of the Guardians." "Apparently you already have," Harry retorted. "Why is my request so different from you snatching the wrong people at the wrong time? At least this would do some good." Death winced, nearly imperceptibly but enough for Harry to catch it.
"For that matter, he's not supposed to be here either," Harry pointed at Harry. "If nothing else, I need him back. The prophecy speaks of One, not One Half."
Death shook her head. "You cannot have him back. He is dead."
"So am I."
"Yes, but technically you are only mostly dead. He is all dead."
Harry frowned. "But we're both only half here, so technically he can only be half-dead. And isn't he me too? So he can't stay dead for long, just like me."
Death bit her bottom lip before answering. "Yes and no. He is half of you, but all dead, so he belongs here."
Harry shook his head. "No, he's mine and belongs with me, so I think my half-life outweighs his half-death."
She rubbed her forehead. "But your half-life is decaying more towards half-death the longer you stay here."
Harry threw up his hands in frustration. "This isn't nuclear chemistry. I need answers, and quickly." He began to pace. "A prophecy is connected to the laws of the universe, which cannot be violated. I need to be whole again in order to complete it, so by your own mandate of existence you have to give him up."
Death sighed, unhappiness flitting across her features. "This is different. He is mine, since he is dead. My job is to take people, not restore them. Singly I do not have that power."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a headache that threatened to be a migraine in proportion. "All right." He continued pacing while he thought. "Is there any truth to the stories of people making deals with Death? Is there any way for us to work out a compromise? I need my other half and the ability to defeat Voldemort before I go back."
Death arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think you will go back? By your own admission, you are dead." He shot her a venomous look. "Are you going to claim me as your own as well?" he asked softly.
She shrugged. "Well, as you have said I have already violated my rules. Maybe I will just decide to keep you here, as my rightful property. I am sure you would be delightful company." She ran a possessive hand through Harry's hair, petting a faithful pet. "It might be fun to have two of you."
Harry growled and stepped right up to her, meeting her inhuman silver gaze.
"You're wrong. First, if I was permanently dead, I don't think there would still be two of me here. Second, I've never stayed dead before. I'm guessing I'm not allowed until it's my time. Which lastly means that universal law cannot dictate that until the prophecy is fulfilled. So don't even start with me about me being your property too. I'm not in the mood."
She pursed her lips. "You are quite adept at manipulating the laws to suit you. You have a better chance at immortality than Voldemort at the rate you are going."
He glared at her. "And whose fault is that? If you and Fate hadn't started meddling in the first place, things could have been quite different."
She smirked at him, the most emotion he'd ever seen in her eyes conveying through the ice exterior. "Yes, I have made some mistakes, but they are relatively minor compared to the mistakes you have made. So if I wanted to keep you here with me, who is to say that I am not stopping you from making an even greater mistake?"
Harry huffed out a breath, wondering if she was trying to justify her meddling and if she actually had the power to stop him.
He changed tactics and tried to reason with her. "If Lucifer takes over, isn't your own power threatened?" Death met his eyes almost unwillingly, then nodded once, and he pressed, "So it's in your best interest to help me." She nodded again, and he sighed. "So tell me. What do you want from me, in return for what I need?"
For an eternity, Death stared at him contemplatively, thinking and sizing him up. Then her silver eyes turned to the bright sky above, seeing beyond it into the unknown distance. Harry waited, forcing himself not to wring his hands together by gripping at his sides, tensely hoping.
Finally Death focused on him again, eyes locking. "There is a way, but it will affect more than just you. Symmetry must be kept."
She looked down briefly at Harry sitting at her feet. "I can make you a deal; a life for a life. I can restore both of you, rejoined as a whole, and give you a portion of my own power. This can be used for only one purpose – to defeat Lucifer. Very shortly he will be embodied, and when he comes after you, you can deal with both him and Voldemort at same."
Harry blinked, surprised. She was giving him exactly what he needed, and without extra haggling on his part. Death must have seen the hope rising, for she raised a hand as if to forestall his reaction. "In return, once your enemy is defeated, you will follow him. You must die, and you will belong to me, here, permanently."
Harry nearly laughed. That was it? His life in return for the safety of the world? He'd taken that for granted, subconsciously at least, ever since he learned how far Voldemort was willing to go to kill him. He let a slight smile cross his lips as he commented lightly, "That sounds fair to me. We have a deal."
He held out his hand, and with a sly smile Death grasped it firmly with her ice cold one. Immediately he felt it: the fiery power within him joined and tempered by icy strength, frozen in his chest with a specific purpose.
He closed his eyes and shivered as it became part of him, the knowledge of what he had done and what he now had to do pressing heavily on him. Death released his hand, but he stood there gasping and shuddering for another long moment. Eventually Death said with an impatient bite, "You do not have much time, young phoenix."
He nodded, fighting down the chills, then offered his hand to Harry. After he hauled himself to his feet, they clapped their hands on the other's shoulders, and with a weird flowing motion like vapor through water, Harry stood there whole again.
He sighed with relief as the last pain of separation vanished and his power recharged. He felt like his old self again, before the talisman-induced schizophrenia started playing with his mind. He looked at Death, a Mona Lisa smile on her lips, and with her single nod the world around him dissolved in a swirl of colors.
Harry found himself floating in nothingness, and nearly groaned. Not this again. He was sure Death did that on purpose, the conniving little . . . Why couldn't he just take the express back to reality?
He fought against it, trying to find a light to lead him back to his world, even as the ice in his chest seemed to want to go back to where he'd just left. Concentrating fiercely, he found a connection that seemed familiar and grasped it firmly, hauling himself back towards reality.
With a jolt and a loud gasp of desperately-needed air, Harry lay on the blood-drenched, debris-strewn battlefield, leg still pinned by the massive stone, and completely exhausted. Despite that, he felt marginally better than he had in a long time, and definitely better than when he'd left.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, and as the sky was still choked with dust and smoke he couldn't tell. How long did the ritual take? How much longer did he have before they came for him? Putting that aside for now, he concentrated on getting the blasted rock off his leg.
A simple Levitating charm moved it enough for him to slip out, and gingerly he tested his leg. His foot was at an unnatural angle, no doubt due to a broken ankle, and his shin was curved inward from a shattered tibia.
Painful and inconvenient, but not crippling. If he had enough time, he could heal himself enough to walk; too bad he didn't have all his potions on him right now, or else it'd be fixed in less than a minute.
Idly he wondered whether or not Madame Pomfrey had survived, and how much she'd scold him for getting injured yet again. Briefly he thought about going to the cave in the mountains; somebody there would be able to fix him up in a trice, plus he could see exactly who had survived.
But Voldemort/Lucifer would be coming for him personally, and this confrontation was guaranteed to be messy. Better to stay out here where everyone was already dead. The fewer witnesses, the better. He'd better be ready.
Harry glanced around for his staff, remembering that he'd dropped it somewhere nearby, and frowned when he didn't see it. Holding out a hand, he summoned it to him, and about ten feet away a demon corpse shifted aside, and the staff limped to his hand.
Examining it closely, Harry noted with despair that there were a few hairline cracks in the wood, and the ruby on top was missing along with the carved claws that held it in place.
Sighing, he tried to summon those to him, but they only came after his third attempt, the ruby the only piece still intact. Probing the wood along the fracture lines, he knew that he could repair them fairly easily, given some time and attention.
Using the staff to steady himself, Harry managed to clamber to his feet and limped away towards the ruins of Hogwarts. With whatever time he had, he needed fix his staff, rest himself, and heal his leg.
He had one last chance, and he was not going to screw this up.
***********************************************
Death strode out of her city and out into the hills, where she knew they liked to gather. Sure enough, a crowd of now over 100 people were milling and talking amongst themselves. Several were telling stories, and one blond haired teen was acting something out for a crowd of students his own age amid much laughter. Some of the younger ones played in the grass while others simply reclined easily, watching the sky.
She stood at the top of a hill, watching them and debating how to do this. She hadn't told Harry all the specifics of the deal she had offered him, but she was worried that if she had, he would have refused. After all, she wasn't actually supposed to do this.
Death couldn't imagine how many rules she was breaking, and certainly if the other Guardians got word of this they would be furious.
Internally she shrugged. Too late for anybody to do anything about this.
Now looking down at the group, she realized she hadn't thought about the details when she offered the deal, and she pursed her lips with irritation. Maybe she should just do this as simply as possible, and let them work out the kinks. Who knows how long they'd last anyway, and after they were gone it really wasn't Death's problem anymore.
Sirius spotted her and broke off his conversation with Fred and George to call out to her gaily, "Well, good morning to you, Lady Death. Where be Harry this fine day? And what have we done to merit the pleasure of your company?"
Everyone turned to look at her, and Death met all their eyes calmly with her usual icy exterior.
"Your presence is not longer required here."
She clapped her hands twice, and with a rush of hot wind they all disappeared. Death closed her eyes and slumped a bit as the last little flicker of fire inside her sparkled out, its purpose fulfilled. She hadn't told Harry that just as she gave, she had to take. Her power alone couldn't have done what he wanted, so she borrowed some of his, trading ice for fire.
She was still standing there when an altogether too familiar scream raked across her nerves. "What in the name of all seven circles of damnation did you do now, you crazy bitch?!"
Death smiled, feeling a bit of her old spirit manifest in nearly forgotten mannerisms. "Look who's talking. And besides, it isn't your place to swear on my realm, now is it Fate?"
She turned to see Fate boiling towards her like a thundercloud, and as dark as one, eyes and hair rippling in her angry colors. Behind her, Destiny followed at a more stately pace, her face creased with worry and perhaps a touch of fear.
Chaos loped alongside, looking positively joyful at the impending confrontation, and no doubt at what she had just done. He always loved calamity and confusion, especially when he caused it. No wonder the Weasley twins got along with him so well. Still, there was also some worry in his sparkling blue eyes, and his youthful face had some unaccustomed frown lines.
Love sprinted easily as his side, sporting the appearance today of a lovely young blond maiden with graceful energy, complementing Chaos with youth and beauty. She was frowning prettily but unhappily at Death, who felt vaguely irritated at her chosen façade.
She preferred it when Love didn't go with the stereotypical foldout look and did something different, like a middle aged man with graying hair and a pot belly. Or an older woman thick from childbearing but still with her same beautiful smile. Or one memorable time when she assumed the male counterpart of Fate, and had her three Shamak'la running in terror of a temper tantrum.
Death decided to ignore those two for now and focused on Fate, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am only doing what you wanted me to a long time ago. I'm putting things back."
Fate was literally shaking with rage, her voice loud but tightly controlled. "What have you done?" she gritted out. "We all felt it. Now what did you do?"
Death shrugged. "Exactly as I said. Putting things back, hopefully to rights. Nobody is where they are not supposed to be anymore."
Destiny sucked in an unhappy breath between her teeth, which were biting her lower lip. "You don't understand. Whatever you've done has seriously disrupted everything. My books are useless now. I can't write them."
Death gave a negligent shrug. "Nothing I can do about that. What is done is done, and it cannot be stopped now." Fate growled, a low rumble in her chest. "You're acting like you used to before the whole talisman fiasco. Remember what that led to? Now it's getting worse!!" The two women glared at each other, tension and violence building between them like a storm.
Chaos stepped forward and clapped a hand on Death's shoulder. "Hey Death, normally I like anything that put Destiny's nose out of joint. But this time, I think you've seriously gone too far."
Death cocked her head. "And you do not like the fact that you cannot continue your competition with the Weasley twins."
Chaos grinned his lopsided beaming grin, mischief shining in his eyes. "Well, yeah, that too. If it wasn't for the fact that they're mortal, I'd've sworn they were the missing two parts of my triplet."
Death allowed herself to be amused, and a tiny smile curled the corners of her lips. "Chaos, I name thee Weasley."
Laughing heartily, Chaos changed his hair to a fiery Weasley red for a minute and very nearly could pass for Fred and George's brother, especially with that grin on his face. Fate rolled her eyes and poked Chaos rather roughly in the chest. "Quit encouraging them," she ordered, and he rubbed at his chest as he chuckled. "You're just mad over that toilet seat prank. That was classic."
Fate huffed and rounded on him, and while they bickered Love walked up to Death and said quietly, "I don't understand. You've just decreased your own power, and for what? This is not the time to be weakening yourself. Our enemy will take advantage." She looked around at the empty plain, sorrow radiating from her. "You're making all our jobs harder to do, except for Chaos and he doesn't need it."
"No, but it helps!" he shot back before Fate directed her ire on him again, with was rather surprising since they normally got along so well. Love's golden eyes, the one part of her that never changed, met Death's silver ones. "What have you done?"
Death contemplated telling her, explaining this multi-realm chess match in action. How sometimes a sacrifice needs to be made for the greater good; that one piece must be taken for another to advance to victory. Her gambit was risky, yes, but if it worked the payoff would be worth the risk.
But she doubted the others would see it that way. They would question her motivations, and those she couldn't explain at the moment. Not when she barely understood them herself.
Without answering, Death straightened and turned away, escaping that searching gaze that seemed to piece through her and emerge knowing all too much. "Just wait and see," she called back, and disappeared in her city, internally cursing the lot of them. Especially Love.
It was all her fault.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Raven Eades: Hope you recognize a quote or two in here. *winks* Thanks for the inspiration.
The Keymaker: Thank you so much for your insightful reviews of most of the story. I appreciate your encouragement, and actually agree with most of your observed complaints/disagreements. However, the romance bit stays the same. I do believe that heroes are capable of finding true love, and history shows that most are not doomed to live alone. In JKR's version Harry will probably end up with someone really special. I'm not trying to do a stereotype, but rather make a point as to how much Fate is actually meddling with Harry's life. Also it sets up a nice unrequited love aspect with Eva, which is a lot more fun to write and tease the readers with. The fact that I'm single has nothing to do with it. *winks* As for the word count, the first stats I saw on OoTP in a magazine said 121,000 words. But later stats expanded it to over 200,000. I'm inclined toward the larger number, since it is a massive book. Still, I think this project might come out to the same length or larger when it's finished.
JamesTag: Ummm, if I'm evil, which we both agree on, why in the name of all that's holy would you want me to have your children?! You might have to fight it out with Michu. (see below) Never hurts to have one more person bowing at your feet though.
Michu: Glad I keep amazing you. And the offer's still up? You might have to fight with JamesTag about it. (see above)
Pheonixelemental: So how many evils was that? I lost count. You're going to come and beat me?! *snorts with laughter* That might be mildly entertaining. The Latin sayings mean, respectively, "No one strikes at me with impunity," and "I'm not lost."
Clifjumpr13: You think so little of me. I won't and can't do that last bit since there are no prisoners to release. They're all dead. Here there's no such thing as dying nobly. Name one character who has – I dare you. And yes, there are main characters left alive. Battered and bruised and despairing of life maybe, but still alive. *grins unrepentantly* Looks like you got your wish. Now that I'm back here, seems I can't leave. *growls* And quit calling me kid. I'm not your sister.
Fallen Shadows of Light: Thank you!! Someone who questions what Eva really is. I don't think most people realize that she's not human. What she is exactly will be explained later. As for Death, she's meddling with something she never should have touched. And Harry – well, Harry's not half dead, he's actually mostly dead. I try my best to come up with original ideas, or at least modify old ones enough so that they become mine. Thanks.
BladeLiger786: Happy Birthday!! So for your present, this chapter is dedicated to you. *winks* Sorry, I've been trying to post this chapter since last year, but ff.net is being stupid and keeps giving me an error message. Eva/Wraith ship? That would be rather explosive, to say the least. But it would follow my theme/obsession of dualities.