Premature Exit
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: Hey! It's nice to have such positive reviews after being away for a long time, thank you all very much: Scruffable15, The cobb, shadow of the black abyss, Bewittching and Lady Arwen of Rivendell. No more delays then, let's get started.
Harry could not recognise everything around him as the light darkened and the world around him transformed to a grand building. It was in complete disarray, large pieces of rubble surrounded his feet, broken glass was scattered all around and there was a silence, a silence that only fitted. The whole atmosphere was eerie. Harry could not help noticing that the place seemed strangely familiar, but he could not honestly remember coming anywhere near somewhere like this his whole life. Parts of the wreck were dispersed about as far as Harry could see; there was an odd element of sadness about everything that Harry could not understand.
It was cold out, very cold, and the same mist that he had encountered before surrounded him, but it felt very different. Harry shivered as a gush of cold breeze passed him, where was it that Merlin had taken him? What was he to find out here? It was likely to be something important, hadn't Merlin defied his words and insisted he was to be brought here? This certainly wasn't some unknown part of the planes. Harry's senses were sharpened again, and there was no dreamlike quality. This was real.
There was a small tap from behind him, Harry did not know what he had expected when he turned around, but he did so nevertheless.
A rock had fallen from the top of a large pile of cracked marble; Harry shook his head and pulled out his wand. He had not needed it for such a long time Harry wondered if it still worked. His instinct was to test it out before he would actually need to use it.
"Lumos," he muttered and the end of his wand lit up - although the sky was darkened it was not yet black enough for this to be very effective. Harry swished his wand almost playfully and was about to turn it off when his wand illuminated something's shadow.
He raised his wand to find the source of the shadow. Then he saw him, a cloaked man half hidden simply by the darkness and strategically hidden behind the mist. Harry doubted he would have noticed if he hadn't seen the shadow, the man was making no noise and not moving even fractionally. For it was a man, Harry was sure, he was tall - his cloak was black and his face hidden by a hood. Something about the figure did not worry Harry, and made him feel slightly better.
The man took a step forward. His steps were precise; he moved the same amount of distance with each one. By the time he had reached him, Harry did not need him to remove his hood, which he had done, for him to recognise Merlin.
Harry felt angry with him. Perhaps this was Merlin's idea of a fun joke? He, Harry, couldn't see the funny side. He felt cold and slightly better and didn't have the slightest idea where he was, providing that he actually was somewhere and that this wasn't a made up world. The ruin of what must have been quite a remarkable building seemed almost depressing rather than funny.
"Harry Potter," murmured Merlin in his low, deep voice. Harry barely grunted in reply.
"I bid you farewell - and good luck."
These words snapped something in Harry's brain. He looked up quickly, now much more attentive.
"Hang on! What d'you mean -?"
But Merlin was fading away just as his parents and Sirius had. He was smiling as he vanished into nothing and left Harry to figure out where he was himself. Alone.
Harry looked around, clinging onto that last strand of hope that he might discover where he was, how to get back, or to see whatever Merlin wanted him to see and be done with it. Maybe Merlin would come back and give him more information if he sat down and went on strike, refusing to find out anything - but Harry quickly realised it was simply too cold to remain immobile. His best hope would be to wander around aimlessly and stumble across something useful.
Harry stood up and brushed flecked dust off his robes, there was one thing for it: he would have to enter the wreckage. It was hardly assuring the whole thing looked like it was going to cave in at any moment and Harry, despite knowing quite a few good spells for tricky situations, knew no spell strong enough to keep a massive stone building from falling in on top of him. He kicked a large rock away from the entrance, Harry supposed this was not the actual entrance, more of a gap made by the cracked walls. He squeezed through and squinted in the darkness for a moment, then held his wand forward to light up the way.
This was fine, he thought to himself as he walked along a lonely corridor; he had done things alone before. He wasn't completely useless - and this was much less worrying than rushing to the Ministry to save Sirius had been. He knew nobody was in danger, apart from possibly Merlin when he came back for Harry. This was almost a night-time stroll around Hogwarts without the risk of being caught by a teacher or Filch. Harry missed Hogwarts, he missed the warmth of the place, his friends, the Gryffindors, Quidditch (although he had spent one memorable afternoon with James teaching him everything he knew) he even missed the lessons. Although the building he was in now must have been about the same capacity as Hogwarts it was stone cold throughout and Harry felt constantly jumpy. The ground had twice moved from under his feet and once Harry swore that he had stumbled over a human bone, not wanting to look at it, he had continued walking with a slightly faster pace.
Then - a voice.
"It'll be here, stop wincing - I'm telling you, it will be here!" A young woman's words. Harry stopped and scrambled forwards so he would be able to hear better - he knew that voice. It had to be…Harry couldn't be sure.
They were getting closer, apparently not caring about the noise they were making. There were definitely two people, and Harry had a very clear idea of who they might be.
"Listen, I know it will be here - but they will be here, this is crazy, Hermione."
Harry suspicions were confirmed. Ron and Hermione were walking down the main corridor that this one led on to, but they sounded different. Perhaps Harry had forgotten what his friends' voices sounded like; he wondered if he should come out of hiding and greet them. Would they be surprised to see their friend, if Merlin had indeed brought them to a world where Harry remained in the planes rather than returning home? Harry knew that they certainly would, and wizards that had passed through to another plane never came back - undoubtedly his friends would think he was some kind of fake. That he was someone impersonating Harry Potter.
"They won't be here for ages yet - did you hear something?"
Harry cursed himself silently, he'd chosen the moment when Hermione was speaking to sink further into the shadows in an attempt to not be seen - but had resulted in hitting his foot hard on some object on the floor. He'd winced.
"No," replied Ron.
The footsteps carried on, got louder and then finally started to drift away into the silence again. They had passed him. He had been half hoping that they would not be able to hear or see him as if he was in a memory, but apparently not. He had to be careful, and since Ron and Hermione were the only living people he had seen since coming here he figured he should probably follow them.
Harry listened for the soft tapping of Hermione's feet and the clumsy loud steps that Ron took as they hurried off, when they were so far Harry had to strain to hear them he began to trace their steps. At one point he'd reached a joint and had wondered which way to go - before picking a route and hoping that it was the right one. He could not hear them anymore, this was hopeless - he must have taken a wrong turning.
"Up the stairs," came Hermione's mutter.
Harry froze. He had taken a wrong turning. They were on the floor below him, and about to walk up the stairs to the place where Harry stood quite motionless. Harry stupidly wondered why in all the time he had spent with James and Sirius he had never asked how to become an animagus. The idea had never seemed more appealing, if he could have just transformed himself into a bat right now then this problem would be solved.
"Ron! What are you waiting for?"
"Damn - my foot's stuck, blasted steps-"
Harry looked around in vain for a hiding spot. If he came back the way he came he would have no idea where they were going, if he continued along the draughty corridor he was uncertain as to what lay before him - plus he would possibly be seen.
But either way, if he stayed where he was now he would certainly be seen.
"Honestly, Ron? Must you every time-?"
"It's not my fault! Who put that step there in the first place, anyway? And it's dark in here-"
"Shhh, I can hear something."
She could probably hear Harry's blind panic. He was in the most ridiculous situation, being forced to stalk his friends but unable to let them glimpse him incase they decided he was a dark wizard and cursed him for impersonating Harry Potter.
"Hermione!"
Harry took that moment to bolt forwards; they were within his vision range so Harry had taken the precise moment Hermione had turned to face Ron. He caught the two struggling to get Ron out of a trick step, their wands alert in their hands, as he ran past.
"What was that?"
"No idea."
Harry caught his breath a little further on when he was sure his friends wouldn't be popping around the corner any moment. He was ready to give this a rest; this game of chase was certainly not any fun and all he knew was that Ron and Hermione were searching for something in this building. He didn't even know where he was - they hadn't said, still even now the once beautiful building looked too familiar. Harry did not want to think about what it looked like, the idea was-
"It's just up here."
"I know where it is!"
Harry scuttled out of the way. There was a lot of cracked stone and broken glass here, there was something very large and broken that Harry thought he might just be able to squeeze behind so that Ron and Hermione couldn't see him but he could watch them.
It was harder to get behind than he had thought. As he struggled, two figures rushed forward, both out of breath - evidentially having ran from the steps. They both stopped for a moment; Hermione bent over, wheezing and Ron patted her on the back kindly.
Harry took a moment to register how different their appearances now were. Clearly a good five or six years had passed since he had last seen them, though whilst speaking they had acted just the same. Ron was much taller than Harry remembered, and Harry had already remembered him tall, whilst Hermione was more or less the same height but seemed more fuller and in proportion than Harry remembered her. Ron's long nose was ever prominent as he looked down on Hermione with a still quite recognisable even on his older face, dumb struck expression.
"We need a password," he said slowly, "look," he pointed at the space around them (Harry squirmed in his hiding spot) "they've already tried to get in."
"Password?" asked Hermione in a shrill, unnatural voice. Harry was surprised - she'd so far only spoken calmly. "Can't we just - I don't know - get in?"
"No," said Ron.
And suddenly in became so apparent as to where they were Harry could have whacked his head against the half-demolished wall beside him (but preferred not to incase Ron and Hermione heard him). It was his home. The first place that had ever felt like home for Harry Potter.
Hogwarts. And it was a mess. The place that had homed so many students in Harry's time was not fit for even the most insignificant habitation of life. He had been able to tell somewhere, subconsciously, all along - but had been continuously telling himself that nothing could have happened at Hogwarts. Hogwarts was, after all, the safest place in the world. Especially with Albus Dumbledore as headmaster. What had happened to Dumbledore? He would not have allowed this to happen to the school. Even now, seeing the place he had loved more than anything destroyed, Harry was still partially refusing to believe it. He felt none of the warmth and homeliness of the castle in this cold wreck. Nothing that he felt symbolised a part of the school. It was simply old and ruined.
Why had he not known from the start? He had been in the Hogwarts grounds with Merlin, after all, but then, they had been piled with rubble and huge mounds of earth had been dug up and trees uplifted. Harry had not seen Hagrid's cabin either…what had happened to-
"Let's think…what was the password as you last remember it, Ron?" Hermione asked quietly. Her brown eyes were twinkling sadly in the light of her own wand.
"The time when…" he mumbled off and did not look at her back.
"Yes," she said firmly, "that time. After…after Harry…after it happened."
Hermione did not seem perfectly stable either. Harry felt as though he was intruding upon a private moment of his friends. He wanted very dearly to shout out something - so that they would be alert to the fact he was there, but knew this would not be possible.
He made himself think about what they were saying. They needed a password… but where were they? He had turned off the light at the end of his wand as Ron and Hermione had drawn near, and even now, from his uncomfortable view he doubted he would be able to see where he was. There was need for a different approach. Where would you need a password? Almost everywhere - his first thought was Gryffindor tower, but he knew where he was well enough to say he wasn't near a tower. Harry squinted at what must be the entrance to where his friends were headed, there was a gargoyle, a very chipped - Dumbledore's office! Ron and Hermione must need to visit Dumbledore, but why would Dumbledore be here, surely he would be with the Order at a time like this. There had to be another reason.
"It was something like…something like…"
Sweets, Harry said in his head, the password to Dumbledore's office was always some form of sweet that he had recently taken a liking to, for whatever reason. But how could he communicate this to Ron and Hermione? He tried to think it really hard in a silly hope that they would pick up his thought waves.
"Something like sweets," Ron finished, Harry's jaw fell, he for a moment wondered if he had been able to send thoughts directly to Ron, "yeah, some kind of sweets."
Hermione was not as happy with this information as Harry had expected.
"There must be a thousand different kinds of sweets out there! Not forgetting the muggle ones as well, how are we supposed to know-"
"Chocolate frog, liquorice wand, droobles best blowing gum," Ron started lamely, the gargoyle didn't move for any of these, "Bertie Botts every flavour beans, pumpkin pasties-"
"Pumpkin pasties aren't sweets, Ron," Hermione snapped. Ron gave her an aggravated look.
"You try, then!"
Hermione lips were very thin.
"Ok then - tooth flossing stringmints," she said clearly. The gargoyle moved aside and smashed into a large chunk of something hard and made a loud crack.
"How did you-?"
But Hermione shook her head and the both hurried inside. Harry wanted to follow them, he thought he probably should. If only he had his invisibility cloak, it had proved useful for things like this in the past. Worriedly, Harry followed them, but when he reached the top of the stairs a rather different scene than what he was expecting confronted him.
He'd thought this part of the castle would be just as wrecked as the rest, but Dumbledore's office was just as Harry remembered it. It was neat and oddly immaculate, perhaps nobody had known the password and the headmaster's office had not been destroyed because of this. Whatever it was that Ron and Hermione wanted was in this room, and he saw Ron reaching up for the sword of Godric Gryffindor. The only known relic of Gryffindor's that Harry had pulled out of the sorting hat whilst fighting a basilisk in his first year. Harry did not know why they had bothered so much to find it, but then, there was an awful lot he didn't know about this world.
Hermione was poring over Dumbledore's pensieve, she'd pulled it out from where it had been only partially put away and was looking into it curiously.
Harry crouched down into the corner so that neither Ron nor Hermione would be able to see him, but he could see them perfectly.
"Ron?" Hermione asked uncertainly, "do you think that this-?"
She was indicating the pensieve but had no time to finish her question. There was a loud bang and four tall cloaked figures appeared out of thin air in the room. Harry recognised them instantly as Death Eaters. Death eaters probably intent on killing them outnumbered his best friends, perhaps they were after the same thing Ron had got hold of. He was now brandishing the sword, taking one foolish swipe by what looked to Harry as complete accident.
"That's exactly what we think, too," said a voice from under one of the hoods. Harry did not recognise it; at least he had made a point of avoiding familiarity with Death Eaters.
Hermione's eyes stared at them reproachfully.
"Hand over the pensieve," another said.
Hermione did not move.
"Hand over the pensieve," the second death eater said again.
"You are a foolish mudblood, girl. Do you honestly think that keeping the memory of that prophecy will save anybody? Now hand it over, or we will take it from you."
Hermione had a very strange look on her face as she gently picked up the pensieve and:
CRASH!
She'd dropped it onto the floor, the glass had smashed, and whatever was inside it was fast disappearing. Mist arose from it and swirled all around them.
"No!" cried all four of the death eaters. One extended her long fingered hand from beneath her cloak and was madly trying the catch the vapour-ish substance as it floated away, as though she would be able to put it back in a bowl and everything would be fine.
Hermione smiled as she watched the Death Eaters in desperation, she shot a look at Ron who looked almost proud of her.
"That was your last copy of the prophecy - wasn't it? My, my, your Lord won't be happy with you," she said daringly.
"You won't make a mockery out of us any more!" cried a Death eater who as of yet had not spoken, "Crucio!"
But Hermione dodged the badly aimed spell.
Harry had never once been in a situation where there had been Death Eaters and he had not been the one fighting them. He wanted very badly to help Ron and Hermione in the five minutes that followed, spells were fired everywhere. Ron and Hermione were both very good at dodging spells, how had this come to be? Harry could only wonder.
It transpired that these Death Eaters were not particularly gifted wizards, they only seemed to want to fire the killing curse everywhere. One of them killed another and Ron stunned one to leave them with two left.
Harry clutched his wand very tightly - perhaps in the confusion he would be able to hit one of the Death Eaters with a spell on the ankles? It would be something they certainly would not expect, Harry had to keep convincing himself that this was a bad idea and he was not supposed to be here to change whatever was to happen.
He didn't care. He had a very good view of one of the Death Eaters; he was limping slightly from a spell used by Hermione and was now casting spells everywhere in agony.
But Harry couldn't finish the words before:
"HERMIONE!" Ron's strangled yell.
A scream that he would never forget.
A blinding flash of green light.
And the world was blurring away again.
Hey hey. I give you my awesomely action packed eleventh chapter! This makes you feel better, surely? A longer chapter than usual, a rather exciting fight the death eaters scene. A death. I actually think a death would make this fanfiction a 'T' - well, it's not very graphic or anything. I hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing this. It just came straight out, I had no clear idea what I was doing and I wrote it and it kind of flowed, you know? Well, please leave a review, it took me loads of effort to spend my days researching planes and writing this and then editing it whilst it takes you only a few moments to review - and it makes my day ;)
