Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of it's characters, so don't sue me!
Pairing: hmm…not sure, but will be slash if anything…
Warning: Some spoilers from OoTP. (order of the phoenix - for mere mortals)
Plot: A weird thing which I just thought of this morning (I don't think I am copying anyone, so…shrug)
Basically, my theory on how Harry could get out of the war (kind of), and still manage to save all the people whose lives 'supposedly' depend upon him. Afterall, Harry's a teenage boy…if it were you in his place, don't you think the pressure would have some…unforeseen consequences?
Blackmail, pure and simple
Pausing mid-stride, Severus Snape felt a trickle of fear snake down his bruised spine. Shaking free of his overactive imagination, the Professor resumed walking to his quarters, looking forward to a stiff drink and the consequential oblivion it would offer.
So lost in telling himself he was simply being paranoid, now that he knew Voldemort knew he was a spy, the normally vigilant potions Professor failed to notice the narrowed green eyes watching him from the shadows.
As soon as the man had turned down the stairs that led to the dungeons, Harry stepped out into the empty corridor.
Feeling the ripples of pain increasing in intensity, and noting the shortening pause between attacks, the black-haired boy knew his time was running out fast. A glance at his watch confirmed what he already knew - there was only two hours until midnight.
Heading swiftly for the Headmaster's office, Harry knew Dumbledore would be waiting. He was also aware that Dumbledore most likely believed him to have gone dark - which wasn't going to make him any more receptive to his cause. Still, it would make what he was about to do to the old man easier.
The Gryphon opened to Harry's 'chocolate beetles', and the young wizard quickly ran up the stairs, wincing as the pain reached its peak.
By the time Harry got to the door at the top, the pain had disappeared, leaving Harry pale and shaking, but able to carry a conversation at least. Drawing in a deep breath, Harry prepared to alienate the man he regarded as his mentor and a good friend.
For a moment Harry allowed himself to imagine what he'd be doing right now if he was a normal boy - asleep with the rest of his friends by now, or possibly cramming in some last minute homework…something ordinary. But thanks to Voldemort, he was anything but ordinary…sometimes he didn't know whether that was something to be grateful for or not.
His sight prodded him into action - giving him a full on vision of himself lying on the staircase shaking from the pain. Shrugging out of his funk, Harry acknowledged the need for haste, and pushed the door open.
Sat behind his desk, in the tall, wooden chair that resembled an old-fashioned throne, Dumbledore presided over his court of dusty tomes and delicate parchment clad in a robe of red silk. Tired blue eyes peered at Harry with disappointment and tired resignation evident in their depths.
Snape had obviously pulled the Headmaster from his sleep, judging from the dressing gown, lack of hat and an air of vulnerability that wasn't present during the day. Right now Dumbledore looked exactly like what he was - an old man, and evidently aged by the news that Harry'd gone over to the other side.
"Harry." Dumbledore greeted him with a slight nod that did nothing to hide the wariness in his eyes.
"Headmaster." Harry inclined his own head, face expressionless as he took in the tenseness of Albus' grip on the wand he had out in plain sight on his desk. "Relax. I'm not here for what you obviously think I am."
At his words, Dumbledore's face registered brief shock, which the Headmaster was then quick to conceal. Still, he didn't try to pretend he didn't know what Harry meant - the blatant presence of his wand made pretence redundant.
"What are you here for then?"
Drawing nearer the desk Dumbledore was seated behind, Harry ignored the shocked exhalation at his appearance, knowing full well he looked, at best, like a ghost.
"I'm here to make you an offer,"
"I'll never join Voldemort! You should both know better than to offer such a thing - I'll never stop fighting him either!"
Letting his exasperation show, as Dumbledore butted in before he could finish, Harry momentarily wondered why everybody thought Dumbledore was so clever.
"I know that! Come on, give us some credit. In any case, no, I didn't come here to ask you to 'join us'. I came to propose a truce…of sorts."
Blue eyes narrowed, in a supposedly shrewd manner. "Will he stop persecuting muggles and muggle-borns?"
His attempt to shock Harry back to the side of the 'light' by telling him what Voldemort was all about, fell…rather flat.
"In a manner of speaking. Here, read through these - they should be pretty self explanatory."
Tugging Dumbledore's copy of the contract out of his back pocket, Harry put it on the desk himself. Wouldn't do for Dumbledore to know everything Harry could do, i.e. wandless magic, especially since he now considered Harry to be on the other side.
Crafty green eyes watched as shaky, veined hands cautiously picked up the sheets of parchment before him. Dumbledore's rheumy blue eyes widened, first with surprise - at the official-ness of the documents - then with incredulity, when they saw what they were suggesting. Finally, Albus' head came up to look at Harry, with something akin to dumbfounded disbelief.
Voice deadpan, the Headmaster was the first to speak. "You've got to be joking."
When Harry made no response, Dumbledore glanced down at the parchment again - then his eyes came back up, more urgent than before.
"This, what you're suggesting is ludicrous! Give Voldemort reign over his own piece of land? - what kind of sick fantasy of his is this?"
Halting his own hysteria, the 'Great Dumbledore' - 'Defeater of Grindewald' - lowered his head. Inhaling deeply several times, Albus regained control of himself, and managed to meet Harry's empty look with a level-headed, rational one of his own.
"Harry, my boy, there is nothing you could possibly say, or do, to make me sign onto this monstrosity. Your master will be defeated, maybe not this day, but he can't hide forever. I think you'd better take this with you, I'll destroy it if you leave it here."
Stepping up to the desk once more, Harry stared hard at the person he'd looked up to for so long. To suddenly see how things would end with Dumbledore's tactics, and have your eyes opened up to the man's foolishness, was a rather strange experience - to put it mildly.
Realising he was scaring the old man again Harry relented his gaze slightly, allowing the slight wonderment that Trelawney had managed to avoid interfering for so long, to pass through his mind, before going back to business. Afterall, that's all this was…business.
Leaving the parchment where it was on the desk, Harry diverted his gaze from the Headmaster and paced away from him - not wanting to see his face.
"I'm not your boy, y'know - I never was. Mind you, Voldemort isn't my 'master' either, so I guess that makes me a stray."
The sudden glow of his green eyes as he 'saw' Dumbledore about to interrupt, was so great it cast a slight shadow on the wall Harry was facing. Holding up a hand to halt the man's words, Harry quickly closed his eyes tight shut.
"Let me have my say."
'Seeing' Dumbledore reluctantly close his mouth, and ease back slightly in his chair, Harry continued with what he needed to say.
"I came up with the documents on your desk. I came up with the idea for this 'segregation'. I then approached Voldemort to get his approval of the idea - and his signature."
"I also went to the Minister of magic. And got his signature."
Opening his eyes, Harry turned to face the uncomprehending face of Albus Dumbledore.
"I was the one who came up with the idea of putting all muggles under the responsibilities of the Minister of magic. Until such a time as muggles are fully aware of witches and wizards, and as such are capable of having their own say in this agreement - anything about muggles in this…cease-fire, must be authorised and overseen by the Minister."
"And, with all the main players in this contract already signed…"
"Whether or not you also sign is a moot point - it makes no difference to the fact that these plans are going ahead. With the full co-operation of both the ministry, and the 'rebel camp' a.k.a. Voldemort and co."
"I merely made it possible for you to be added into the contract - as another ambassador for muggles, if you like - because I was under the impression that you'd want to be kept informed of any future alterations or additions that are made to the contract…"
"Forgive me if that impression was a mistaken one."
A moment passed in silence, then another, and Harry knew the path that the future took hinged on the Headmaster's reaction. A turning point in history, which - unfortunately - Harry had little to no influence on.
Finally, with an expression of mingled distaste and bitterness, the outmanoeuvred Albus Dumbledore - 'Defeater of Grindewald' - reached once more for the contract.
Holding out one fragile, liver-spotted hand, he ground out his request. "Quill?"
Tugging the once-more clean quill out of the ever-useful back pocket of his jeans, Harry silently handed it over, reluctant to rub in the defeat.
"I take it this is to be signed in blood?"
Again, the barely civil tone of the Headmaster was clearly showing the strain not to curse and scream, but when Harry answered the question with a nod, Dumbledore didn't hesitate or flinch - a sharp downwards movement viciously ripped through the fleshy part of his palm.
Angry, decisive movements drew the weak blood into the shape of a signature.
As soon as the 'e' was finished being wrought the entire parchment glowed a bright red, and the silent 'boom' of pent-up magic exploded out of the room. A strangled 'Wha…?' of shock escaped Dumbledore's throat, before he figured it out.
Feeling the metaphysical reverberations as the other two anchors were slammed into place, Harry allowed a brief smile to cross his tightly clenched lips - the strain momentarily lifted from his shoulders.
"A…a…tri-…!"
Sparing a disinterested glance at the stuttering and suddenly-pale Headmaster, Harry felt his lip curl upward in a snarl of disgust. God - the man couldn't even speak now!
"Yes, a tri-grounded contract. The triple signings make it the most stable of all contracts - unbreakable. Adaptable, yes. Breakable, no."
The poor man was purple in the face by now, and Harry knew that this action would destroy any kind of affection the man still held after being virtually forced into signing the truce.
"You, you tricked me! You did need my signature afterall - otherwise there was the chance the spell could weaken over time, and be broken!"
"Yes, I did need you. I sincerely thank you for your help. Inadvertent though it may have been."
Snatching the document out of Dumbledore's now-loose grasp, before the enraged wizard could do something foolish, like try to destroy it - and end up possibly giving himself a heart attack in the doing - Harry then turned his back and headed for the door.
"First, you blackmail me. Then I find that you tricked me as well! I see Voldemort has taught you very well - I just hope you remember how traitorous he can be in your own dealings with him!"
Hesitating at the door, Harry couldn't let that falsehood lie. Half-turning, just enough for Dumbledore to see his face, Harry met the blue eyes head on - even as he felt his time fast running out.
"Voldemort didn't teach me those methods though, sir. You did."
Leaving the flabbergasted man, staring slack-jawed at the empty doorway, Harry bolted down the stairs and following corridors.
Making it out of the castle with barely minutes to spare, Harry tore down the castle pathways for as long as could - running like the hounds of hell themselves were chasing at his feet.
When he'd gotten as far away as he thought he could, the black-haired boy veered off the path and darted into the forbidden forest. Tonight no giant spiders or werewolves could possibly touch him, and as such the forest offered the best, most neutral, safety.
The first shielding of trees was easy to bypass, but by the third Harry was panting with the effort to keep going as the pain wracked his body. The sixth came - deeper than the spider's territory - and he couldn't go any further.
Sinking to his knees, the screams he'd withheld bubbled up inside - ripping his throat up as they tore out of his mouth and rang through the trees.
Small animals ran and hid. Larger predators paused in their business, to pay homage to the agony in the noise filling the forest. The centaurs, in their wiseness, leaked tears of silver and pawed at the ground in distress, intuiting the shift in the world that had been wrought that night.
Up in the castle, tucked up snug in their beds, the growing witches and wizards, and their older teachers shot upright as one - terror filling their hearts as they wondered what kind of creature could create such a sound. With renewed fear, the first years took note of Dumbledore's warning about the forbidden forest, and those that had detention in it the next night suddenly felt very ill.
With one last howl of agony, Harry's body gave up the fight, and he collapsed into unconsciousness right there - sprawled among the pine needles and damp foliage - and the ancient trees rising up all around him offered up their innate magic to the depleted young wizard at their feet, aiding him as best they could.
This chapter will probably seem really weird and ambiguous (hell, it IS), but I promise things will become clear next chapter as the plans get started!
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, don't know if I mentioned it before but this fic may become slash later on…although I'm still only toying with the idea of the pairing - I think I could make it work - but it may just turn into a friendship…dunno yet.
R&R, please? How did you like the ending - did you get the fact that Harry was in a great deal of pain? I thought it was pretty clear. shrug