Title: Earthquake in the Clouds
Author: Sandolious
Rating: T or PG – 13
Warning: Homosexuality and Heterosexuality. Violence. Language.
Summery: AU; Paradise is where the souls live, once the fleshy body dies. For one man, though, fate is unpredictable. Banished from Paradise, he must complete his journey to get back home. Trouble arises when memories surface and war is on the horizon. HP/SS; DM/HG; RW/CC; LM/GW; JP/LE
Disclaimer. I own nothing but the story.
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Rain fell in sheets on the cold cement ground. The street lights flickered and ignited the deserted sidewalks. Black clouds thundered, lightening crashed and the heavens wept for the loss. An angel had fallen. God had forsaken one of his own by mistake. Lightening flashed again, blinding the road, and in its wake left a crouched figure in the middle of the street. Thick ruby blood ran from wounds at the base of his broken, slashed apart wings down his bare spine and into the flowing current, washed away with the rain. Black feathers swirled in the puddles, mixing with the blood and dirt. Ropes tied around the masticated wing base, twined around the up slope of his shoulder back down around his back knotting in the middle on top his spine to rope around his torso into a knot. His tattered khaki pants clung to skin, while his feet, covered in scratches and bruises were bare to the rough rocky ground. The figure tittered and stood, shoulders hunched under the dead weight of his wings. Straightening even further, the man surveyed his surroundings and took measured steps toward the phone booth to his left, two light posts away.
He, an angel, black winged and abandoned, wandered through the storm; he, an immortal, a fallen, marked by another by error. This accident broke his soul, his spirit lay in heaven, his heart drown in the pain ripping through his abused body. Torment, torture and exile. Fallen and forgotten. He, an angel, sat upon the roof of the phone booth, pelted by rain, washing away the grime sticking to him. Clutching one leg to his chest, resting his head against his knee, he tapped his dangling foot against the metal of the booth. Listening with eyes closed as his beat, echoing through his bones, was drown out by the tapping of the rain against the ground. His wings drooped behind him, barely grazing the shimmering concrete. Several feet in front of him lay an old weathered sign. In the dim light of a dying street lamp, the sign mocking said, "Welcome to Salvation, a piece of Heaven on Earth."
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He was running late. Potions Master Severus Marcus Snape did not run late. He stalked through the streets of Salvation to his meeting at the old Opera Palace as quickly as he could without losing dignity. As he pasted an unused open side street he caught a glimpse of a man sitting upon a phone booth, but pushed it to the back of his mind as he rushed forward and into the Opera Palace for his meeting with his mentor and employer, Albus Dumbledore.
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The Angel continued his vigil upon the booth, as the sun rose and far into the night, after the sun had set. Eyes always closed, foot tapping, wings twitching in phantom pains as the wind rustled the feathers. Whispers of prays to god in Latin could be heard by straining ears and tears of suffering ran down his pale cheeks. Redemption would not be forthcoming.
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Severus paused outside the Opera Palace after his meeting had concluded. Taking a deep breath of the crisp winter air, he muttered, "Old coot," into the fading wind. Turning, he began a leisured pace down the street, towards his little shop of "horrors," reviewing what had happened in the meeting. The Dark Lord was gaining power but his last action was somewhat baffling. The Dark Lord had setup to conjure a demon from the realm beyond, however, something was a miss and after the ritual was completed nothing had appeared. But the markings and after waves of magic could be felt. He had conjured something, but it was not a demon and it was currently roaming freely in the British Isles. Whatever it was that had happened, he was assigned to found out and capture the supposed beast before it was found by muggles or the Dark Lords factions. Severus paused in his steps thinking back to why he agreed to being an active agent of the Phoenix, but chalked it up to being a idealistic twenty year old. Continuing on his way he stopped again, spotting the man still sitting upon the phone booth on the deserted street. This time however he took stock of the battered appearance and the black feathered wings. What was a fallen angel doing in Salvation and why was it simply sitting there in the cold.
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Miles away in the other realm, arguments raged on. The falling of our young angel had the heavens divided. His lord ship, D'moins sat upon his throne with a grieving heart. He had a duty to fulfill any law set before him, even if it was unjust. And even now, he did not have the power to rectify the situation. He had cleaved off the pearly white wings of their young angel and banished him to torment because of a failed attempt to resurrect a demon from the underworld. The young angel was marked by the evil being who had summoned. A lightening bolt scar ran across his forehead. As the law decrees no one marked by evil, no matter the circumstances, was to reside in Heaven, and thus they were to be banished. And he, as ruler, was to respect the law in all its entirety. So with a heavy heart and mind, he punished an innocent. One of his favorites and waited for the arguments to begin. For the young angel who was marked was known well in the heavens. Known for his mortal life, known for his parentage. Our young angel was known for his soul.
"The law does state the fact Miss Malfoy. There is nothing you can do. He was marked. Accident or no accident. He was to be banished." the Minister of Law reminded the young angel leading the opposition.
"Yes, that may be true but article 73 section 3095 paragraph 87 of evil markings, subsection 18 states that an angel wrongfully marked may be given the option of redemption and the mark be removed by a higher power. Therefore, who ever was there to witness his punishment either did not know the laws of this land or refused to acknowledge this section. He was wrongfully banished and not given the proper information to refute the accusation!" the young angel Malfoy argued. Her tame brown hair lay in thick braided ropes down her back, while her hazel eyes flashed with emotion. The pearly white wings, taunt and twitching were coiled on her back. Dressed in a knee length dark maroon war robe with slits up the side to her belt, wrist and forearm bands with her families crests grazed her skin. Thick weather flat footed leather sandals laced up her calves, rested on her feet. She was Hermione Granger-Malfoy, High Priestess of Earth and Scholar of the Arts. A political figure with enormous influence.
"Be that as it may, Miss Malfoy, our god can not be proven fallible. Thus he can not simply reverse his judgments and punishments. Legally he has to fulfill the laws, no matter the circumstances. Which he indeed did. Now though the laws do state that redemption was an option during his sentencing, it cannot be called now. He must go on the path put before him, even if it does not lead back to here." the Minister of Deliverance spoke, after the other ministers had come to an agreement. Hermione stared unbelieving at her fellow angels.
"This is not the end." Hermione hissed stalking out of the chamber of commerce. Her husband, Draco, watched her go with a heavy heart. The young angel Harry was like a brother to them. One they would watch over no matter what.
"Lord D'moins? I have a request to ask." the young Malfoy bowed before the throne.
"Speak Archangel Malfoy." the god said, intrigued. It was not often that a Malfoy would ask for something.
"I request that my wife and I become the Fallen's guardian angels." This request though simply asked, caused an uproar within the chambers. The ministers and other high priests shouted in protest while others urged D'moins to grant the request. Chaos had taken control of the situation again.
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In the small town of Salvation, the storm continued to rage on through the night. Power lines were knocked down and stray braches thrown through the air. The rain poured down in buckets, while lightening flashed menacingly in the blue-black sky. The streets were flooding, the wind ripping apart gardens and bushes. Devastation was left in the wake of the storm. And in the middle of this natural violence sat the battered fallen, struggling to keep balance upon the top of the phone booth. The mixture of little clothing, icy rain and harsh wind, tore apart his skin and turned his lips blue. Barely conscious the little angel continued to fight against the elements. He knew his time was coming soon, and as the lightening flashed again in an array of eons old roots, his eyes fluttered shut. His body, limp, was thrown into the air by the harsh winds, hit by debris and slide roughly against the concrete street to a complete stop in front of the welcome sign. His mangled body bled into the flood water and drained into the sewers.
As the storm persisted in its tirade the heavens became alight. High above the storm, pearls of white formed and flew as fast as rain to the unconscious body of the fallen. The light engulfed him and the surrounding area, evaporating the rain and shielding him from the onslaught of the raging weather. The wounds littering the abused body began to knit together and heal, fading into flushed sun-kissed skin. The pearls of light continued to heal the fallen, while two watched this happening from a fate globe in the other realm. They sighed in relief as their beloved awoke, alert and in better spirits. He knew now. They defied all, broke laws and bended the rulings for their use. Manipulation would come easy to them for this cause. They watched their childe, and hoped beyond the celestial gods, the fallen would survive the trial he was now embarking. James and Lily knew they would be calling in for favors, for fulfillments, for inner workings of the underground. And they waited for the sun to rise on the completion of this journey. Their beloved son, would survive. Today was the beginning of change in all the worlds. Fate was going to lose. They would make sure of it. Together they will all triumph.
The Fallen was known to the other realm as Darnth Harold Potter, Harry if you will. Though the accurate age of his life is well over five hundred years old, his body appeared to be in the mid-twenties. Standing up, he felt lighter, a void within him now filled with hope. The tatters of cloth he had called clothing at one point was rejuvenated into a loose pair of jeans; soft cotton t-shirt with a slightly oversized gray sweater over it, trainers and a wool cap. The black wings, once again attached to his back, fluttered with life and energy. It was then, in the gray gloom of a post rainy day, Harry took to flight, searching. There was something here he needed to find, or someone. And for now, all he could do was look for clues to what he needed; what he was fated to fine.
Fate was cruel. You see, it would pluck you from the safe confines of your home, open your belly up, stick a filthy hand into your gut and ripe out your innards. Fate would then stuff them back in torn, bleeding, useless; give you a needle and thread and set you down far away from your home. Fate's parting words would be: clean your wound, sow it closed and find your way. Ambiguous words for the newly departed. Riddles aside, when your body is twisted, filled with pain and your mind is vacant of conscious thought, there is little you will retain. The moment you are left alone, broken, there is little you are able to accomplish. After a while, life, in a grueling manner, wraps you in its embrace of thorns and you are trapped, forgetting why you were thrown there in the first place. Your center is concentrated on the pain that is present when you are so tightly embraced. Fate, in all its wisdom, is malicious.
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Severus on the other hand was just sitting down to a hot cup of strong Earl Grey tea. The fire place roared softly in front of the leather lounge chair stationed a few feet away. The polished wood floor lay covered in oriental rugs in multitudes of design. Book shelves encased the walls. There was no part of the wall that lay with out books except the windows and their frames. Thousands upon thousands of tomes littered the room. The most interesting part of the whole warm room was the door. With no knob or indent, the door was a solid piece of thick oak. Upon close inspection the design could be seen. Snakes and panthers roamed across the wood in breathtaking detail. They seemed alive, moving of their own free will. And if you were to look closely at the darkly polished oak, you would see the panther with emerald green eyes and the snake with sole black.
Taking a small sip of his tea, Severus relaxed back into the lounge chair, sighing as he eyes slide close. The warmth of the tea seeped into his chilled hands and body. The day had been long and hard, filled with several uneventful and unhelpful interviews with informants. No one knew of what might have been summoned, nor were there any theories. Beyond that, there were no stories littering the muggle or magical world of a dangerous beast running amok. For once it seemed, the Dark Lord's mistake did not end in catastrophe. Taking another sip, Severus hoped, it would stay that way.
Long into the night, Severus sat pondering. Going over all the interviews and investigations. With nothing conclusive, he was lost in which direction to go. Turning his eyes to the calmly burning fireplace, he theorized. It was just as he was drifting off to sleep, lulled by the flickering embers, when the epiphany struck. There was a slight lingering trail he could follow. The calculations began to form in his mind, the plan forming shortly there after. He finally had a breakthrough. A breakthrough which would put him in favor of both masters. Relaxing back into the soft embrace of the chair, Severus fell asleep, thoughts lingering on the being brought forth. However even those thoughts could not hold off the comforting pull of sleep's embrace.
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Harry flew across the town, committing to memory where things were. It would not do for him to lose his wits. The sun was just grazing the horizon when he finally began descending to the ground. The search from above gave no clues as to what he may need to do while in the city, and the pull he had felt nagging at the back of his mind had yet to change. This journey… was turning out to be more difficult then he had previously thought.
Spotting a large open back yard, Harry made a quiet landing just as the beginning rays of sunlight chased away the linger darkness of night, setting the sky on fire. Grateful to be out of the sky so no one could spot the fallen angel, Harry began making his way towards the large old Victorian ancestral home several yards in front of him. The soft white paint sparkled orange and pink in the sunrise, while the dew covered grass shimmered. The two story house was impressive. Windows, the eyes of a home, seemed to be everywhere, blinds still closed as if it had yet to awake. The porch which was three-fourths of the back wall lay centered with several chairs, couches, benches and swings littering its open embrace. The overall appearance made the home seem welcoming; drawing Harry towards the enchanting figure. Stopping at the bottom steps, Harry took a closer look at the house trying to gather more clues as to its inhabitants. Muddy shoes sat proudly by the screen door, waiting to be washed. A tattered novel, cotton quilt and battered blue teddy bear lay forgotten on an invitingly comfortable couch.
Fatigue finally catching up to his body from flying all night, Harry staggered to the couch, tripping on the final step. Setting the novel, 'Lovers and Snitches' and the teddy bear on the chair next to the couch, Harry wrapped his wings protectively around him and lied down, drifting off to sleep instantly, unaware of the waking occupants inside the house.
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Severus knew the minute he threw open his front door after being rudely awakened by the persistent pounding and frantic yelling; he should have moved the moment Weasley moved in across the street. Glaring menacingly at the 26 year old, six foot red head, Snape waited for the Neanderthal of a brat to explain why he was pounding frantically at his door at this ungodly hour as if the Dark Lord himself was on his heels.
"Weasley." He spoke in chipped tones, beetle black eyes narrowed, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Calming his breathing just enough to relay the morning's events, Ron Weasley, smiled a weary smile, his freckles still contrasting his pale face.
"Good Morning Severus! I have a slight… problem that needs to be dealt with, hopefully by you." The red head rasped. "You see this morning an unauthorized… creature made it successfully through the wards. The ones you and Albus had place on the property assuring me the family would be safe. The creature was then lulled to sleep as the wards permitted and is now napping on my back porch. I have a feeling it might be what you have been searching for the past few days. There are traces of dark magic on it, and since it safely got through the wards, I was going to interrogate it." That said, the young man took another deep breath before racing back to his home, wanting to be as far away from the surly grumpy man as he could.
Severus stood still, watching the retreating back of the young man, going over what he had just said. A creature, tainted by dark magic, breached a heavily warded house with out any problems. A creature who may just be what the Dark Lord had summoned. Things were looking up. Casting a lingering glance at the comfortable lounge chair, Severus quickly laced up a pair of boots, checked his attire, ran a hand through his lanky locks of obsidian and calmly began his trek towards Tree Willows, the ancestral home of Ron Weasley and his wife, Cho Chang.
Knocking on the front door, he was greeted by the happily pregnant young Chinese woman, Cho. Her almond brown eyes sparkled with warmth and rusted brown shoulder length hair lay tidy. The swollen belly peaked out with pride on her small slim body.
"Mister Snape. Good Morning. Please come in, Ron is waiting on the porch. Due be quiet the poor thing is asleep and the others are still sleeping." She spoke kindly leading the pale man into the house.
"Miss Cho, a pleasure to see your beautiful face this morning. I had the brief thought, seeing Ronald so early and in his state of anxiety, that I would miss seeing such beauty today." Severus smirked, following the young blushing hostess.
"Severus Snape! I've never! You'll do well to not have Ron hear you, he is terribly protective of me. And it is entirely uncouth to flirt with a pregnant married woman." Cho admonished. Smirking, Severus stopped at the backdoor, turning slightly towards the glowing woman.
"That may be, my dear lady, however, I was so entranced by your captivating beauty, I could not stop my admission. Beauty such as yours should be regaled." And with a slight up turn of the lips, Severus was out side, shutting the door firmly leaving the young Asian woman shaking her head at foolishly flirty men.
Once outside Severus spotted the red head perched on the railing eyes planted on the mass of black feathers laying on the family couch. Walking silently and cautiously towards the two, Severus scanned the creature for its magical signature. Finding the Dark Lords symbol integrated with the creatures own natural symbol, Severus nodded to Ron.
"This is indeed the creature Mister Weasley. The magical signature is similar to that of the Dark Lord. Now we must figure out if it is violent or not. If you will do the honors Weasley." Snape said motioning to the creature.
Gathering all his courage, Ron moved quietly towards the creature. Placing his hands on the wings, Ron shook the animal, roughly trying to rouse it as quickly as possible. After a few moments of the movement, he felt the muscles stiffen and took a step back, wand at the ready.
The mass of feather twitched sporadically for a minute before a pair of feet and legs uncurled from under the mass and touched the porch. Next the black wings unfurled and stretched to get length, revealing the body of a young man with sun-kissed skin, shoulder length black hair and a peculiar scar across his forehead. The man stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, popping vertebrae loudly. Letting out a sigh of relief, the man's wings fell into place on his back and his arms dropped to his sides. He stood there silently for a few moments, waiting, while listening to those around him.
Severus and Ron who had watched the proceedings figured this was an intelligent being who so far, was not violent. Putting his wand away, Ron took in the sight of what appeared to be an angel. Clearing his voice, he introduced himself.
"Good morning sir. I am Ronald Weasley, owner of the home in which you are currently at and this is a friend of mine Severus Snape." Ron smiled at the still unmoving man. Opening his eyes, Harry stared at the red haired man in front of him. His aura oozed warmth and sincerity. Turning to the other man, Harry's startling deep emerald eyes widened. He knew this man. Knew his aura. His smile and humor. He knew this man meant something to him, however the memory fluttered at the edge of his conscious grasp.
"Sev," Harry whispered in a soft tenor voice, taking a step back. No, no! This is all wrong, Harry thought frantically, he did not know this man, unconsciously taking another step away from the dark haired man.
"Your reputation precedes you even into the otherworld Severus!" Ron joked watching the angel in the corner of his eye.
"Who are you Angel?" Severus growled walking towards the slowly retreating figure.
"Fallen, I'm fallen." Harry spoke voice wavering as he continued to back away from the imposing figure in front of him.
"Severus… I think you need to back off." Ron spoke after observing how the young angel began to tremble under Severus' glare.
Ignoring him, Severus went on.
"Why are you here? What is your mission?"
"I… I…" Harry stuttered, stopping his retreat as his wings brushed against the porch railing.
"You're what?" Snape snarled, wand pointed at the trembling figure.
"I'm sorry!" Harry yelled, flicking his hand in Snape's direction and letting loose a strong wave of protective magic. Snape and Ron flew through the air when the wave hit them. They landed unscathed on lawn disoriented and searching frantically for their lost wands. The seemingly non-violent angel, had just thrown two of the strongest wizards in Salvation on their respective arses without batting an eyelash.
"So much for non-violent." Ron muttered while searching for his wand after standing. Severus snorted and turned his gaze back to the angel, who was still standing on the porch. The screen door opened slowly, as Cho walked through followed by a tall man with long platinum blond hair and steely gray eyes and a young woman with long red hair tied into a bun, soft brown eyes surveying the scene before her. The two occupants standing on the lawn were now moving as quickly as they could back to the porch. One fearful for the newcomers' safety while the other angry the angel had the audacity to use magic against them.
"Ron? What's going on? We heard the scream and felt the magic all the way in the house." Cho asked once her beloved was at her side. Ron however was not listening; he stared at the angel still backed against the railing. All eyes turned to the night-winged man cowering from them, fear stuck in his eyes.
"Once again Fallen! Why are you here?" Ron growled, holding his wife protectively.
"Ron!" Cho gasped the anger and fear in Ron's voice plainly evident.
"Answer!"
"I… I… banished … laws against those marked… exiled… Hermione… Draco… Help!" Harry mumbled eyes unfocused. His body began to sway, emotions raging through his confused mind. Over head the sky began to darken and fill with foreboding clouds. Thunder cracked and lightening lit the sky a fire.
The platinum blond man and red head woman noticed the drastic change as an ominous warning. They tried to instruct Snape and Weasley to stop this line of questioning to no avail. Cho tried to reason with the duo, but by now they were not listening. The stress of the war and political subterfuge the duo had been through recently was finally being released in their merciless questioning. They stood menacingly over the fallen, who was on his knees, clutching his head, whimpering two names over and over.
With a blinding flash of light, the magical folk shield their eyes from their view of the fallen. Once dimmed, there stood before the precession two people wrapped in war robes. The man, a thin muscled blonde with icy blue-gray eyes and alabaster skin stood protectively in front of the fallen and his companion. He glared threateningly at the group, causing the majority to shiver and back away except for two people: Severus and the platinum blonde. The woman kneeing next to the fallen had wrapped her arms around the trembling boy. Long chestnut bushy hair was plaited into three thick braids running down her back. She whispered quietly into the man's ear, while her brown eyes turned to the group, piercing their souls with her radiating anger. Standing and helping Harry to his feet the woman took place next to the man, protecting the fallen from the group.
"What has he done to warrant this kind of action?" The man asked icily, staring straight at Severus.
"He breeched a safe house and did not give his intent for being here. Nor when questioned did he state what faction he was part of." Snape sneered, unimpressed by the man's intimidation tactics.
"And when you saw he was reacting badly to the questioning? Did you attack him or act in a threatening manner?" the woman asked, surveying the group, judging them.
The group remained silent causing the duo to bristle.
"Well human? Did you? Did you enjoy bringing an innocent to tears? To ripe away the only stability he may have had? To bring up horrific memories the likes of which you have never seen…. Well answer me HUMAN!" the woman screamed causing the group to step back from the foreboding female. The man drew the woman into his arms, calming her down a bit. Though one could see the rage simmering in her eyes ready to boil over at a given notice.
Sighing, the man looked at Cho, smiling softly. "Excuse me Miss…?"
"Cho. Cho Chang-Weasley. And you?" Cho spoke softly, trying to see the fallen through the people before her.
"Miss Chang. First let me excuse my companion and I for causing such trouble however, as you could see… a mismanagement of anger and emotion was causing my brother here great duress. And we, my wife and I, could not simply watch it continue another moment. So, dear lady, we apologize for this misunderstanding. Now introductions. Herm if you would." The man finished charmingly, causing Cho to smile at the two.
"Miss Chang, let me introduce myself. I am Hermione Granger-Malfoy, High Priestess of Earth and Scholar of the Arts. This is my husband Archangel Draco Malfoy, High Priest of Water. We are Harry's allotted Guardian Angels." Hermione bowed slightly once she was finished speaking.
"Who's Harry?" the red hair woman asked stepping forward.
Stepping apart, Harry stood in the vacant space. Arms tightly wrapped around his chest, eyes focusing on the ground. His wings grazed the polished wood porch and twitched with anxiety. Sighing softly his raised his green eyes to the group.
"Fallen Angel Darnth Harold Potter. Ambassador of the Starlings and Guide to the Heavens. I am the Soul Cleanser." Harry spoke softly tenor wavering slightly, eyes never staying on one person for very long. "A pleasure, I am sure."
The group stood in shocked silence. These three people seemed so familiar as if the memory was lost and grasping at it was like grabbing at falling sand, it continued to slip through your fingers.
"We're being rude," Ron admonished, breaking out of his stupor. "I am Ron Weasley and this is my home. Cho is my wife." Cho smiled gratefully at Ron and continued with the introductions.
"This dark brooding man is Severus Snape. The blond to his right is Lucius Malfoy, and the red haired woman here is his wife Ginny Malfoy. Now let's continue this over tea. By the looks of it, Harry was it?" Cho paused, at his confirmed nod, she continued, "well Harry looks like he may be faint and this appears to be a long morning." With the agreement of the others, the group proceeded inside of the welcoming house, while two men continued stand outside.
"I believe… my behavior was unjust Mister Potter and want to… apologize." Severus ground out, face twisted in a grimace.
Harry stared hard at the man, looking for deception. When none was found, he gave a curt nod. "Accepted Severus Snape, Potions Master and spy." Harry walked past the man who was so heart wrenchingly familiar and into the house where the others were gathered.
Severus stood out side a few more moments gathering his wits and pride. He was so familiar and Severus knew deep down he could not forget a pair of eyes so green. Kicking the railing in frustration, he made his way into the house and impending discussion.
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Dmetri Malfoy was an honest, dependable, and innocently sweet child. At the age of four she stood at not quite three feet, a small child for her age. With hazel eyes, strawberry blond hair, milky white skin and a permanent mischievous smile, she was the unconceivable cross of the Weasley twins and the aristocrats of Malfoy. She could manipulate most people who were not family into giving into her demands while those who were close to her knew what her tactics would be and came prepared. Today, however was different for Dmetri. She had been sick recently, something similar to the muggle flu but with magical out bursts. No one knew what was going on with her, so the medi-witches and medi-wizards simply told her parents to keep her in bed with the proper potions for her symptoms and see how it would fair. They also advised not to touch her due to the probability that it might be contagious or that the magic outburst could be triggered by their touch and cause harm to both parent and child.
So Dmetri wasted away in her bedroom at her uncle's house. Her parents were visiting for the winter holidays and she was to stay in bed. This morning, though, seemed to be filled with activity especially since the yelling from outside had wakened her. Tired physically from her sickness and from being left alone for several weeks, Dmetri climbed out of bed and down the hall to the stair way where she peered through the railing to see what as going on. As her mother and father along with aunt and uncle came in escorting two others, she waited for them to take theirs seats before creeping downstairs to get a peak. Not two minutes later a creature she had only heard myths about walked into the house wearing a sad smile. He paused just before entering the lounge area and looked up at Dmetri. Smiling, he turned and stood at the bottom steps staring at her. Then kneeled down, opening his arms and waited, eyes locked on the small child.
Severus, who had made his way to the lounge entrance, watched all this with a curious eye. He was shocked to say the least when the Malfoy brat rushed down the stairs in her pajamas and straight into Harry's arms. Sneering as the angel picked up the child, Severus made his way into the lounge and sat stiffly in a high backed chair next to the love seat the Weasley's were occupying. The Malfoy's relaxed on the couch with the Guardians next to them, leaving the ottoman in front of Severus the only free seat.
Harry, hugging the child still, stood a few feet opposite of Severus, staring at the man intently before floating a foot and a half off of the floor. Harry then proceeded into lotus position with the child hidden from view by his wings. Dmetri waited quietly, as the angel had said, for the right moment to announce her presence. So while waiting she ran her small warm fingers along the black feathered wings, petting her angel.
Harry couldn't help but smile as he was secretly being petted, careful not to have Snape catch him in the act. The man was so bitter. His aura was a maze of scars and wounds some still bleeding others far too old to have been there.
"Now would you like to tell us this story of how you came to be here Harry?" Lucius probed diplomatically, eyeing the hovering ebony winged creature on his far right.
Harry sighed, shifting Dmetri slightly before recounting his tale. Dmetri, leaning back against Harry's chest, closed her eyes listening to the tenor voice vibrate through his chest and drifted off into a light sleep.
"I… Don't know where to really begin Mister Malfoy. But the beginning is the best. Several days ago the alarms went off alerting the High Council a major war was going to break out soon in Destination Six E. This realm and planet. We decided the best course of action was to wait it out for now and send reconnaissance agents to get a better look at the problem. One of the agents was captured and misidentified as a demon before we could recover the body so it might be reunited with the spirit. This lead to the Dark Lord, Thomas Riddle, making preparations to summon a demon with a similar marking that was found on the agent. Now for a brief course on markings. All agents carry their inner marking and one of their superior officer; I guess you would call them. The angel captured was under my supervision and thus carried my mark, which Thomas found. Now normally an angel has the power to negate any summoning call made, however you will find Thomas and I are very similar in the fact that we tend to break rules which are not suppose to be broken. I denied the summoning and was marked by him. A backlash of power is what I can gather. Now this all leads into the Laws of the Land which Mione is more qualified to tell you about." Harry spoke, deliberately with even tones. His mask was tightly in place causing his Guardians to frown slightly but not mention it.
Hermione smiled at the group relieving some of the tension that had risen during Harry's speech. "The Laws of the Land were made eons ago by the first god, Raph. He set down basic guidelines for his people and those incoming from other worlds. As different problems came to be, different laws were modified or created to keep control. Soon there was a small government created to keep peace so the god would be able to concentrate on the jobs at hand, thus the High Council was created. Several gods and goddesses later D'mions our current god became ruler. Now there is a law in effect which states any angel who is marked by an evil being or evil creature is unable to reside in the Heavens. There are several other laws and subsections that go along with that but essentially that is all you need to know. So as the ruler D'mions was forced to follow through with the law even if it was unfair and the person innocent. God is infallible. D'mions, with a witness, punished Harry with the ripping off of his white wings, tortured to the correct extent of the law and exiled forcing him to Destination Six E." Hermione finished grief and guilt lacing her voice. She curled around her husband, staring at Harry with watery eyes.
"Lily and James, my biological parents from when I was a wizard healed me when I fell unconscious after I had arrived on the planet. I then went out searching for what I was supposed to find. There had been this nagging feeling at the back of my mind. After the moon began its setting I looked for a place that was close to land in and rest before beginning my journey again. And I believe that's it. This all leads to the present. Except I do have a question for Miss Malfoy." Harry finished, half smiling, head cocked to the side in query. Ginny nodded eyes on the green eyed man.
Opening his wings, Harry uncovered the sleeping child ensconced in his arms causing Ginny and Lucius to gasp.
"Dmetri was trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, but I thought it would be more beneficial for her to just join us. She's an odd little creature." Harry continued while the Weasley's and Malfoy's sat is shock. "She has this unique magical signature but was fighting with this other magical signature that was unleashed in her by an outside force. Cleansed that right up. Now she's perfect. Or at least healthy. Bright one she is. Bit lonely though and sad." Harry finished running a hand through Dmetri's strawberry locks. He looked up at the group in confusion at their silence, shrugged and continued to pet the child.
"She's been very ill lately. Not like the shining star of energy she was a few months ago. We never knew what was wrong with her. She just… lost the sparkle." Ginny smiled sadly, reaching out for her baby. Harry climbed to his feet and released Dmetri to her mother. Standing back, next to his guardians, he motioned for them to speak in private. Hermione nodded in response and looked to Cho.
"Miss Chang is there somewhere we might be able to talk in private for a few minutes. I am sorry to say our time here is limited."
"Of course, there is a study just a few doors down. Let me take you there." Cho smiled, struggling to her feet for a brief minute before stepping away from the loveseat and guiding the three newcomers to the study and returning a few minutes later.
"Do you believe them Severus?" Lucius asked once Cho was seated again. The others turned their attention to the dark brooding figure.
"There were no indications in their speech patterns or body language to suggest they were lying. However, those things are easy to manipulate. Even more suggestive that they were not telling us everything was the lack of emotions from Potter. While the other two were very expressive. So it's more like he is hiding something from everyone. I don't trust them. I cannot advise you any more than that." Snape spoke neutrally; eyes adverted to the door frame where the others had left through.
"They seem nice." Cho said hesitantly, relaxing as Ginny nodded.
"Dmetri would not have come to Harry, had there been any ill will towards us." Ginny said, brushing hair from Dmetri's eyes.
"I think it would be conducive to keep an eye on the boy for now, and report all this information to the necessary people. No one else. Dumbledore, Riddle and Moody." Lucius stated watching his wife.
"So Ginny, when shall we expect another?" Cho joked, jolting the others out of the somber mood that had fallen upon them. Lucius and Ron laughed, while Ginny turned an interesting shade of red. Severus stood, giving all his regards and left to make the proper reports to his masters.
Harry returned to the door way a half hour later. Face pale and eyes glassy. He looked ill with a slight sheen of sweat covering his skin.
"Would you like a room to rest in?" Ron asked, getting to his feet and steadying the wavering figure. Harry nodded eyes unfocused.
"Please." He whispered and was escorted up the stairs and into a pale blue room where he fell on to the bed, instantly sleep. Ron closed the door and returned down stairs. Announcing lunch was to be prepared.
Harry, sprawled chest down upon the bed shifted in his sleep, wings hanging limply off the bed, grazing the floor and twitching. Rapid movements behind the pale eye lids were the only clue a nightmare was beginning.
Harry stood as a wizard in front of an army of men in white masks. Wands aimed on him, while another man stood opposite of him, wand at the ready, face hidden by a hood. Behind him stood another army, wards at the ready. The tension was palpable between the two opposing forces, and with a shout the battle began. He was unable to tell who threw the first curse. Bodies were dropping to the ground one after another in devastating carnage. Harry, himself, was watching stunned as he fought the leader of the opposite army. Hex, curse, shield, and dodge. Movements ingrained into this body, reaction time alarmingly instant. For hours the battle raged on until he was fed power by a man behind him. A spell chanted. And the body of the opposing leader was destroyed, the soul torn apart and sent to different realms. Then Harry wavered, the magical flow too taxing on his system. In that instance when he was vulnerable, he was stuck by an unnamed curse. His eye sight wavered and body began to numb. Then he fell, the world blackening to single pin prick and in the tiny view he saw someone, heard their voice call his name and he relaxed knowing he was safe with this person. His ears began to ring and his world was finally midnight black, unconscious or dead, he didn't know. Didn't really care as his soul was finally at rest. Mission Accomplished.'
Harry shot away, gasping for air. He tumbled to the floor in his hurry to sit up. With wide un-focusing eyes Harry searched the room before crawling to the corner and wrapping his wings around his body as a shield while he gathered his breath. He knew the practice. The ingrained meditation of relaxing the body helped him focus once more, recounting the dream and encounter with the people downstairs. He continued to remind himself that he was safe for several minutes. Stress from all the happenings lately finally catching up with his mind.
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On their return to the other realm, Draco and Hermione stood at the gates, gazing across the land of their home. The gate alone was daunting for any lost soul searching for sanctuary. High above the iron gates protected by gargoyles was the staircase to the heavens city. Golden steps arched into the clouds, casting a shadowed rainbow on the deserted stone ground. Angels could be seen flying through the air to places of great importance. The buzz of the new inner war was beginning to take affect and there would be armies began to prepare. The duo made their way slowly through the gate and up the stairs, steeling them selves for the chaos soon to brush upon them. They knew, as the leaders of the rebel faction there were going to be consequences for their supposed treachery, however, they also knew D'mions was supporting them, under a guise of course. There was nothing more they could do besides prepare. And prepare they did.
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As the sun rose high in the sky, shafts of golden light lit the room up, turning it surreal. The polished wood poster bed reflected the light against the dark blue walls causing orbs of light to scatter across the room. As the sun continued to get higher in the sky, Harry stared mesmerized at the refracted light. With each change in height, the sun's rays would cast moving shadows across the room until the point where a single shaft of light hit the full length mirror in the far corner, opposite where Harry sat on the floor. From the mirror the beam crossed the room to a crystal figure of a tear drop and emitted a barrage of rainbow colors across the floor, bed and walls. The room looked magical, as if from a dream. Harry, watching the dazzling array of color and light against the shadows, sighs, smiling. He mentally goes over what had been told to him, what he had dreamt, what he had remembered. He smiled sadly as the array of colors begins to fade, the happiness of the moment fading with the colors until the room is sparsely lit by the overcast sky.
Going to the closet he picks out a change of clothes and stands in the middle of the room, hunched over, willing his wings away; gasping as the pain rips through his still strained muscles. Slowly, he makes his way to the bath room where he bathes, changes and steps back into the room towel drying his hair. There pausing at the bed side, he drops his towel onto sheets and wiggles his toes against the fluffy beige carpet. This, Harry thought, is what life is for. Smiling, he set out to find the others.
After a thorough search of the upper levels, he made his way down the stairs to find the family that had welcomed him into their home. At the bottom step he paused listening to the conversation going on in the lounge, before stepping closer, and standing next to the door frame, head turned towards the lounge.
"…went remarkably well." The deep voice of Snape monotones.
"Now Severus, you know keeping the truth from me never works." A gravely old voice spoke, chastising the snarling bat. There was a pause in the conversation, as if there was a stare off going on, but Harry reasoned that Snape would never enter a staring contest with another human being or anything really.
"Of course, Headmaster." Snape sighed, defeated.
"What shall we do with the … angel, for now, sir?" Ron's voice slunk in.
"Hmm, well Ron, I do believe he should stay here, until we know more. He will be able to be observed here rather than anywhere else, unless you have a problem with this? If so, we could always had Severus lodge him." The old voice spoke cheerfully, discussing him, as if he were a child or inanimate object.
The conversation continued with Severus' vehement protests to having the angel stay with him, causing the others in the room to chuckle. Harry looked vacantly at the staircase, counting the steps as his mind analyzed the situation. There was little he could do for now. He would bide his time until he was informed enough to know what was going on in this world and what these people had to do with it. Straightening, he pulled an ebony feather from his pocket, holding it in his up-turned palm. Thinking of several tracking charms, he blew across the feather watching it burst into several smaller feathers, which hovered for a moment above his palm before shooting off into the lounge. Waiting for several seconds and taking a calming breath, he pushed away from the wall and made is way into the lounge, face devoid of any emotion. Masks tightly in place, if they weren't going to treat him with respect, he thought, then they will face his emotionless wrath.
The conversation stopped the moment he was noticed, standing in the door way, surveying the group of wizards. Snape stood next to the fire place, arms crossed, glaring, Ron and Cho sat in the same loveseat while an elderly man with twinkling blue eyes and a long beard sat in the high backed chair. The couch was full with the Malfoy's and another pair. A woman with graying brown hair tied up in a tight bun, brown eyes and a tight lipped smile. The man next to her was a red head with freckles, a mischievous smile and small pointed horns, hidden under a spell, peaking out of the fringe of his hair. Looking closer at the red-head, Harry smirked, laughing, startling the group at the out burst from the young man.
"Fred! You imp! Draco will kill you, when he knows this is where you have run off too." Harry snickered, plopping ungracefully into Fred's lap. For his part, Fred looked unabashed and mused Harry's locks of hair.
"Now why would the little dragon want to harm me?" He smiled innocently and almost pulled it off, if the gleam in his eyes had not been present. The others stared at the duo in curious fascination. The old man was the first to speak in the pause.
"Mister Weasley, you know this man?"
"Of course, Albus, this here is Harry Potter, Angel Extraordinaire. He is one of our converts. Wonderful little prankster when given the proper opportunity and even when not. Though, you probably would never believe me, since he is a sweet little boy most of the time. Innocent as they come. Ain't that right love." Fred smirked, poking Harry in the side.
"I should hope not. With all the blood tainting my skin, it's a wonder, it hasn't turned red yet!" Harry laughed, moving to the floor at Fred's feet.
"Now, now Harry love, I know you have taken a liking to some violent sexual fantasies, however they will not cause your skin to change hues, only I can do that if I properly remember. Besides, my dear test subject," Harry shuttered, " Anyone who died at your hands must have done something pretty terrible. They only call you in when…." Fred trailed off, sobering his expression.
"Mister Potter, I do believe introductions are worth being mentioned." The elderly wizard said in the stifling silence to follow. Harry turned his attention to the wizard and nodded, observing the deceptive man.
"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of the local College of Magic. The lady to Fred's left is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor. And it seems as though you know Fred already?" He finished in a questioning tone, eyes imploring.
Harry nodded his head slightly, rolling his eyes. "This little demon managed to be sent to heaven with his twin. I was the one to find them." He spoke, monotone.
Deep inside his mind laid a storm brewing softly over the heat of conflicting emotions. The hands of will, stirred the cauldron while the ingredients one by one began to gather. Memories torn apart to be seasoned and thrown in. There in the middle of this potion hovering over the boiling pot, stood the heart, scarred. Pumping sluggishly, vainly keeping the spirit alive, a battered rod in an oiled machine. In the flesh of his skin, Harry nudged Fred's leg. He kept silent, as the old man, Dumbledore, continued to prod him for information. There was nothing in this world, even in the burning core of molten lead, would make Harry give this manipulative old man information.
Later that night, Harry stood on the pouch gazing at the semi overcast sky. Counting stars and their constellations. Star after star, name after name, crossed his mind in a meditative pattern. Calming the turmoil frothing at his mind, from the informal investigation. As his eyes continued to cross the vast blanket of obsidian, Harry planned for tomorrow. His search had to continue. He needed to find his connection. It was there, close, urging him to discover it. Pushing him gently, determinedly. Tomorrow would bring perspective. Tomorrow would guide. Cause nothing was going right at the moment. It was a mess fate had left him in. He was determined to make it through this trial and back to him home.
Morning however, brought rain in heavy seeded clouds.
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Best Wishes,
Sand