Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor anything otherwise related. I do, however, make claim on NM Harry's personality as well as those of all the other canon characters and my original chars.
Time passes like a flash.
One minute it's there,
then gone in the aftermath.
People you love die,
but their memory lives on;
Until it seems
that they live again.
"Remembrance" by Anastasia Snape-Vickers, in memoriam of Severus Jardin Snape (2001-2156)
Chapter 3
People You Love Die
Erik was walking towards the kitchen when he heard a muffled curse from above him and looked up to see Harry coming down the stairs, his face black was rage. He instinctively shrank back from the man but managed to find the will to ask him a question.
"Something wrong?"
Harry paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked across the entrance hall at him. His emerald eyes seemed to flicker at the edges with dark shadows…or perhaps that was just a trick of the light.
"Everything is wrong," he growled in response before he turned to the right and stormed down to the main study. Erik watched him pause at the door then he grasped the doorknob and turned it, entering quickly. The door slammed shut behind him and the Russian wizard was certain he heard a faint scream of rage and sorrow come from within the room.
Continuing on his path to the kitchen, he wondered aloud, "Just what have you brought back, my love?"
- - -
"So let me get this straight," growled Harry, steepling his fingers and glaring at Violet over them. "You dragged me out of death so I could fight for you?"
"Yes," replied Violet, lifting her chin bravely.
Beside her, Adam said, "He is insanely powerful. There hasn't even been anyone recorded with that much power since your time!"
Harry frowned at that. Then he asked, "There were only three powerful wizards during my lifetime: myself, Voldemort, and Albus Dumbledore. Which of the three are you comparing this…" he paused to sneer in contempt "…Dark Lord to?"
Adam looked at his cousin then back at Harry before he replied.
"I-I'm not certain. The only one we really know of is you. Any information on Dumbledore or Voldemort has been mostly forgotten by the masses. Some of them don't even remember either of the wars during your time."
"I see," said Harry. He then looked at his half-uncle and added, "Does anyone in this time beside the family know the specifics of Voldemort's death?"
Etienne shook his head sadly at that.
"Alas, only the family really remembers. Your father's sacrifice was deemed a small part by the history books and was left out. As was Jardin's. Most hardly even know you nearly died on that field."
Harry cursed foully in Elven, absently touching his chest over his heart where Ardwynhén herself had nearly killed him. Jardin had given his life for him and his father had kept him from almost dying a second time! How dare history brush them aside as though they were nothing!
"Damn the history books," he growled, slamming a fist down on his old desk. He then locked eyes with Adam and snarled out, "What do you know of this Dark Lord of yours?"
"He was a following of nearly three hundred – maybe more – as far as we can tell." The younger man shook his head and continued, "We can't even field that many Auror's any more. Too many have died in the field and after that, no one's wanted to join up. We've had at least forty men and women leave our ranks in the past year alone!"
"Humphf. Figures. Only a handful of Auror's, even in these times, will stand against the Darkness."
Harry barked out a harsh laugh at his own words and shook his heads.
"I see that some things never change. Now…tell me, why should I fight this Dark Lord for you?"
Violet and Adam both stared in him in shock, leaving Erik to say something. He spun away from where he'd stood staring into the fire blazing on the hearth to shout, "Why? Because otherwise he'll destroy us all!"
Harry frowned and said, "Everything seems fine here."
"You built these wards strong, Harry," said Etienne. "I think even Merlin would be hard pressed to get through them, even after all these years." He then paused and added, "But the Dark Lord hasn't been striking at families. He's been hitting the more public places."
"Diagon Alley?" said Harry. "How? Hell, Uncle, I built these wards after getting a glimpse at the spells for the one's used to safeguard it!"
Etienne shook his silver head and said, "Those wards lack one specific thing that you built into the one's here: a focus. You cast the wards then linked all of them to those crystals, remember? The one's that are buried at the edges of the property and around the house?"
"Vaguely. It's hard to remember everything from when I was alive. And Ni was really the one to think up that idea, not me." He smiled wistfully and murmured, "She was a brilliant woman."
"Yes, she was."
Harry sat in silence for a moment then looked at Adam and said stonily, "Take me somewhere he's struck. I want to see the damage with my own eyes. Then we'll decide if I'm going to help you."
"And if you don't?" asked Violet, looking worriedly up at him as he stood. He stared right back at her, knowing that the only reason she had really brought him back was fear for her children and family. That he could understand all too well.
But he'd never allowed anyone to fight his battles for him.
He stared stonily at her for a moment then said gruffly, "I committed suicide once. I can damn well do it again."
With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Adam no other choice but to follow him. After they had gone, Erik looked at Etienne and asked, "Would he really?"
The old wizard nodded in response and whispered, "Yes."
"Then I hope he finds something to change his mind," said Erik, looking at his wife, who stared back worriedly at him. "Or else we won't have much of a world to raise our children in."
- - -
Adam and Harry walked gingerly down the main street of what had been Hogsmeade village a mere two weeks before. The Dark Lord's forces had swept down upon it in the middle of the night and had razed it to the ground.
Not a soul who lived within had been spared.
Harry's fists clenched as he looked around at the destruction, flashbacks of the same sort of chaos he'd seen years ago during Voldemort's reign zipping through his mind. He took a step forward and felt his foot hit something. Looking down, he saw a miraculously intact bottle of butterbeer laying on its side an inch or so from his toes.
Crouching, he picked up the bottle and looked at it for a moment before he stood. Adam stared incredulously at him as he jerked out the cork and downed half the bottle in one go.
Harry allowed himself a small smile as he murmured, "Still as good as I remember." He then looked at the collapsed, burnt-out buildings around him, remembering the last time he'd seen the village. It had been so busy, so bustling with life then…now it was nothing more than a ghost town.
Turning, he looked up at the distant spires of Hogwarts and sighed.
"Damnit," he muttered before downing the rest of the butterbeer. He hurled the bottle into the remnants of the Three Broomsticks then, watching it shatter against the remains of the fireplace mantle.
Turning his head slightly towards Adam, he asked, "A night attack, was it?"
The Auror looked up in surprise from inspecting a section of untouched grass amidst the burnt that had likely borne a body at some point in time to respond, "Yes." He looked at the shattered buildings and continued, "They had no warning at all…"
Harry frowned at that and muttered, "It's the war all over again."
"What?"
"Nothing."
Adam looked at him oddly and Harry turned away, mentally brushing back the memories of the long ago war that he'd lost Niamh at the beginning of. He then sighed and looked up at the cloudy, gray sky, muttering, "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
Regret helping our family?
"We took care of our own problems," whispered Harry, feeling reassured by Niamh's voice. He'd felt her presence nearby for the past ten minutes and had taken comfort from it. "Why do they need me to take care of theirs?"
He almost saw her frown then and the darkening of her blue eyes.
Times now are not like ours were, my love, she said. Help them."And if it takes a year?"
Then it takes a year. We are here waiting for you, Harry, and we won't leave. Help our family survive.
He sighed, shoulders slumping slightly as he heard her words. Then he looked towards his right shoulder where her presence hovered and said, "I don't like this."
But you'll do it.
"Have I ever let you down, Ni?"
He saw her smile in his mind's eye – that brilliant smile he'd kill to see in the flesh one last time – and heard her chuckle softly.
Never, my love. Now go and reassure our poor great-great grandchild before he dies of stress.
Harry smiled and muttered, "Yes, ma'am."
As he turned to walk back towards Adam – he'd wandered away to look at the buildings at some point in time – he heard Niamh mutter, Chauvinist pig.
"Wench," hissed Harry back before he squared his shoulders and went to do what he'd never wanted to do again.
He went to begin the waging of a war.