A/N: I know, I know, a long time comin' and not as long as usual. I apologize, but I have driven over 5600 miles, through snow storms, ice, sheets of rain, 70 degree weather, Amish people and a pregnant woman in the last few weeks.
It's been a busy beginning of the month.
So, add in a chapter that had to be redone once I actually thought about the plot line, here is chapter 41. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I sure wish I did.
Thank you everyone who reviewed!
Chapter 41: Shadows and Light
"Severus! Somebody get Professor Snape!"
"Harry! Dammit Harry don't do this to me! Wake up! Wake up!"
"You there! Nate! Go get Madam Pomfrey!"
"Harry!"
If Draco Malfoy had cared to look at his clothes, he would have noted that they were ruined. Both shirt and pants had bloodstains on them, and his sleeve was ripped from where Harry had torn it in his struggles. But Draco did not care about his clothes, or how his hair was rumpled, nor how distraught he might have appeared to his Housemates – his entire world was narrowed down to the boy convulsing on the ground, trapped in a vision.
"Draco, I need you to grab his hands. Millie's going to grab his legs; we need to get him to stop slamming himself against the ground." Pansy's voice was strangely calm. She met Draco's gaze evenly, and he nodded, moving around Harry's body until he could pin the thin wrists to the ground with his own weight.
"Millie?" Pansy turned to her longtime friend, who nodded and did her best to keep Harry's legs against the ground. "Good. Where's that – ah, thank you Neville." She took the water basin and rags Neville gave her, quickly wetting one and trying to wipe away the blood on Harry's face. "I can't tell where it's coming from." She shook her head and growled under her breath.
"Let go of him." Blaise was suddenly at her side with a bucket. Pansy glared up at him, but scrambled away when Blaise suddenly dumped the icy water onto Harry's head.
Draco let go of Harry's hands and jumped to his feet, enraged. He fisted his hands in Blaise's collar, shaking him. "What in the blazes do you think you're doing!" He pushed the boy away harshly, watching him stumble over his feet.
Blaise glared at Draco, but nodded down at the boy on the ground. "Waking him up you fool."
Draco's gaze snapped back to Harry, who indeed had stopped convulsing on the ground and had finally opened his eyes. The blond fell to his knees, scooping up the smaller boy and holding him tightly, ignoring the cold.
"Can't…breathe…" Harry pushed at Draco gently, coughing. The blond let his grip loosen by fractions, but did not let him go completely.
"Harry you idiot." Draco buried his face into the dark, wet hair. "Don't do that to me."
"I'll try." Harry snorted faintly.
The door to the Common Room exploded inwards, scattering the students in every direction, all of them pulling out their wands and aiming them at the door. Severus Snape pushed past the remains of the door, casting a glare at the enraged animagus that had gotten fed up in trying to guess the password. Ginny's head poked around Sirius' side, her eyes wide as she stared into the chaos of the Common Room.
"Is he still unconscious?" Severus stalked up to his students, kneeling down next to Draco and Harry.
The blond shook his head. "He's conscious. Blaise doused him with water. We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey though, he was bleeding again –" Harry began to shake violently in Draco's arms, his green eyes dull and vacant. Draco cursed and looked up at Severus, a helpless expression on his face. "He was fine a minute ago."
"Give him to me." Severus held out his arms, picking up the small body easily and standing. "I need you to go to my office and firecall Healer Fabing. Tell him he is needed and that Albus will pick him up specially. Then go to the Headmaster's office and tell that old fool that the healer is waiting for him. Do you understand?"
Draco nodded swiftly, getting to his feet and all but sprinting from the room, followed by Blaise and Neville. Severus took a deep breath and shifted the body in his arms, looking down into the glassy eyes. His expression hardened and he moved towards the door.
"Harry?" Sirius was at Severus' side in an instant. "Harry can you hear me? Harry?"
"Shut up Black." Severus snarled at him, not slowing down in the slightest.
"Bugger off Snape." Sirius reached for the boy, but Severus pulled away from him, a low growl escaping his throat before he could stop it. "He's my godson Snape!"
"Piss off, Black. The boy needs to get to Poppy immediately and he doesn't need you slobbering on him the entire way there. So shut up, buck up and pick up the pace!" Severus' vehement reply left the animagus stunned. Quietly he turned and followed the Potions Master, a slightly dazed look in his eyes.
"Is Harry going to be okay?" Ginny turned to look at Pansy, who was staring at her bloody hands silently, an unreadable expression on her face.
"I don't know."
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"Poppy!" Severus' bellow made the Head Nurse jump. She turned to face him, her eyes going wide at the sight of Harry in his arms.
"What happened?" The Potions Master passed her on his way to the private rooms at the back of the Ward, making Poppy have to trot along side of him to keep up.
"Potter had a vision."
"Oh dear," Poppy shook her head as Severus laid the boy down on a bed, quickly stripping away the ruined clothes and tucking him under the covers.
"I've sent for Healer Fabing." Severus kept his eyes on the boy as Poppy bustled around the room, placing potions in easy reach for the professor. Sirius hovered silently in the door, trying to stay out of their way and mostly succeeding.
"Good." Poppy ran her wand down the length of Harry's body, tsking as the extent of his wounds was revealed. "Severus, do you have any more of that Skele-Gro in your lab? We don't have enough here."
"Don't have enough?" Sirius took a step forward and glanced over at the nurse. "What do you mean you don't have enough Skele-Gro?"
"His hip has been broken in several places, as have all of his bones in his left leg. He was lucky that none of the tendons have been too badly damaged and that we are able to work on him immediately. The breaks are bad, Sirius. Almost as though he has been crushed by something." Poppy shook her head and sighed. "Ever since Mr. Potter has come to this school I have gone through more Skele-Gro than I had in the previous five years before his admittance."
"That's not his fault!" Sirius took another step closer to his godson, and scowled. "It's not like he goes searching for those confrontations…"
"They just find him, yes, yes." Severus stood and glared at Sirius. "Help Poppy while I go to my lab."
"Whatever, Snape. Just hurry up." Sirius knelt down next to the bed and picked up the bowl of water and rag sitting on the table next to the boy.
"I'll be right back, Poppy." Severus shook his head and strode out the door, not looking back. Poppy let her gaze linger on the sight of godson and godfather for a moment before giving herself a firm shake and pulling out her wand once more. There was so much to do.
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Gwyn ap Nudd rose from his throne, a shower of dust falling from his clothes and skin. His hall was dark and cold, the grand fireplaces long dead. His gray eyes scanned the empty hall, searching for any sign of life. No sound, save his own footsteps and ragged breathing disturbed the silence. He was alone.
A frown marred his pale forehead. That cannot be correct. He was the Lord of the Dead, a ruler of one of the Underworlds. Where are my people? He took a hold of the ancient doorknob, tugging at the oak doors. With a mighty creak the heavy slab of wood opened, and he stepped out into the courtyard.
Where once a prosperous village stood, there was nothing. No castle, save for the room he had been in, remained. The Dark reached for the dim light of the castle, hungry tendrils of power searching for a way to reclaim his essence. What is going on here? He took a step back into the doorway, gripping the cold stones of his throne room tightly. Where is my Court? Where are my people?
Gwyn ap Nudd threw back his head and focused his will, quickly becoming frustrated with how weak he was. The call that had woken him reverberated in his soul, the mournful voice calling for him, calling for help. Weakened legs trembled and he tightened his grip on the wall and door, holding himself up by sheer force of will. Where had the call come from? Who dreams of me now, in these dark days?
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The body of Cho Chang was thrown in pieces to the Cwn Annwn, who tore the flesh from the bones greedily, gulping down the cooling meat with the occasional snarl and snap at anyone who ventured too close to their cage.
Voldemort watched them, his eyes still burning with rage. I nearly had that brat of a boy. If it hadn't been for that girl…his hands curled into claws and he dug his fingernails into his wooden armrests. Even the screams of Ezekiel's victims did not soothe him – No, his eyes narrowed down into slits. No, I will not rest until that boy is dead. I want his broken and battered body in front of me, screaming for mercy. I want to watch him writhe and beg as I let Ezekiel play with him. I want him to watch, gagged and sprawled at my feet as I slaughter all whom he holds dear.
One of the bodies chained to the walls shuddered and went limp, the contents of its bowls spilling down its legs, the stench of it filling the room. Voldemort snarled, surging to his feet and slamming Ezekiel against the mess with a wave of his wand. The torturer whimpered and held out his hands towards his master, pleading with him silently, but it was not Ezekiel that Voldemort was seeing just then. In his mind he replayed the battle with the Brat-Who-Lived, wondering where the boy got his strength. It must be Dumbledore, Voldemort let his torturer go absently, sinking back down into his chair and staring at the far wall sightlessly. How else could the boy be so strong? He is far too young to wield such power – no; he rubbed a hand across his mouth and tapped his lips gently. He will be weak now. Yes, very weak.
"Ezekiel!" Voldemort's sharp bark made the torturer jump, raising his bloody face to his Lord's sight. "Get me my Lieutenants. It is time."
Ezekiel's eyes widened, but he struggled to his feet painfully. "As my Lord wishes it." He bowed carefully, his left arm hanging at a funny angle. "However, my Lord, it is not the night of the dark moon, therefore…"
"Be silent you imbecile!" Voldemort snarled, slamming a hand down on his desk. "Get out and do as I say! Or shall I find a new Pet to please me? I fear you are forgetting your place here."
Ezekiel paled and threw himself to his knees in front of his lord. "Please, my Lord. Do not send me away! Forgive my boldness, for I live only to serve you."
A cruel smile spread across the Dark Lord's face. "Remember that, Ezekiel, and do not dare to question me ever again. Your…talents…are many, but mind me in this," Voldemort leaned forward slowly, pinning the other man in place with his stare. "You are not the only one in this world that has such talents. While I am fond of that mouth of yours, there are many others who can take your place at any given moment. Now, leave me."
Ezekiel trembled before his lord, his eyes glassy, but he rose to his feet and bowed low, backing out of the room as quickly as he could. Voldemort leaned back with a pleased smile on his face. It is time to move. He nodded slowly, reaching out to pick up the Book of Living Dead and caressing the cover gently. Hogwarts will be mine, Dumbledore's head will sit on a spike and that boy will call me Master before I am done.
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Harry gasped as he opened his eyes. Blackness surrounded him and he frowned, running his hands down his sides in confusion. There was no pain. But I should be in the Hospital Wing…He sat up carefully, quickly glancing around to make sure he was alone. Then he turned his eyes to his body.
The last thing he remembered was…Cho. Harry closed his eyes tightly, his breath hitching in his chest. Hot wetness pressed against his eyelids but he forced the tears back. I have no time for tears. He opened his eyes and blinked the blurriness away, and then grunted. The familiar weight of his glasses was gone, and yet his eyesight was not the customary blurriness he was used to. What in Merlin's name is going on?
"Alright, Harry." He pushed himself to his feet and dusted his hands off, glancing around warily once more. "You're obviously in the Otherworld. Now, find your way out." Speaking to himself helped push away the rising despair that was threatening to choke him. Snap out of it, Harry. Think clearly. Cho did not sacrifice herself for you to bugger it all up by giving up right afterwards.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself as best he could. His thoughts were chaotic and hard to push away, making concentration difficult. He rubbed his hands against his trousers and growled, picturing the sky in his mind. His thoughts finally slowed, finally letting him expand his consciousness to the Dark around him. To his left he felt a pull, the brightness of a Path seeping into his mind. He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders, keeping the feel of the Path in his mind, using it like a compass needle. He started walking.
Why is it that no matter how long I seem to spend in this place, real time barely moves at all? Harry shivered; there was a chill spreading through the Dark. It had already created goose bumps on his skin, and he knew it would not be long before he would be able to see his breath frosting on the air. What is going on?
The Path appeared in front of him suddenly, the light from it nearly blinding him. He stumbled, nearly falling over his own feet, his arms reeling about him madly. "Ooof!"
"Are mortals always so clumsy?" A slightly familiar voice made Harry turn.
The selkie hadn't changed one bit. A slightly amused grin was a bit better than a disdainful sneer, and the brown eyes were warmer than Harry last remembered.
"I remember you!" Harry blurted out before thinking. He blushed and dropped his gaze for a moment. "Er, sorry."
"Mortals." The selkie seemed amused, setting its pack down on the ground with a shake of his head and rummaging through it. "You're becoming quite a regular here."
"Yeah, I guess." Harry shrugged and scuffed a toe into the soft dirt of the Path. The light was slowly spreading out from where they were standing, illuminating a few dead trees to either side of them. Harry eyed the fauna carefully, the space between his shoulder blades beginning to itch. "Er…these trees weren't here a minute ago."
The selkie looked up and followed Harry's gaze. He grunted once and returned to poking around his pack. "The Worlds are returning. The Sea is rising and the Courts are coming back."
"Huh?" Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and bit his lower lip.
"Mortals." The selkie's sigh was long suffering, but he finally found what he was looking for and stood. "Here." He held out a tough-looking slab of jerky and a water skin. "Eat this."
Harry took a step away from the offering. "Thanks, but no."
The selkie glowered at him and thrust the food at him once more. "Eat, you idiot. I'm not about to poison you, not after risking my neck in a fight with the Spider over you."
"But…" Harry gingerly accepted the offer, but did not take a bite. "I thought mortals couldn't eat stuff from…here. Not without getting trapped."
"Yeah, well, that goes for normal mortals." The selkie shrugged and rolled his eyes. "You're a wizard, right? That means you have immunity from that curse. Add in the fact that you have some nifty little potion that's nearly made you part of this world, well, then…" He trailed off with a shrug and folded his arms across his chest. "Now, eat. The Morrigan will have my head if you wander around here weak and tired."
"Are you a follower of the Morrigan?" Harry asked between bites of hard jerky. It was by far not the best meal he had ever had, but it filled his stomach and answered a rising need he had not even noticed until the sharp, salty scent of the meat hit his nose.
"Of course not. I'm a selkie. My Lord is Barinthus, dolt." The creature rolled his eyes and started walking down the Path, pausing only once to gesture for Harry to keep up with him. "Now, the crows, the banshees, wailing wraiths, they are the followers of the Morrigan. Or at least, those are the ones that stuck around."
"Then why are you helping me at her orders?" Harry finished his jerky and licked his fingers, lapping up every last bit.
"Because Barinthus and the Morrigan made an agreement before they slept, that whoever woke first would take care of their followers. Honestly…" The selkie snorted and eyed Harry carefully before handing over another strip of meat.
"Well, it's not like I was ever born here, now is it?" Harry retorted, but took the meat anyways. "I am a student, and I do have classes to take so its not like I have all the time in the world to study up on the Otherworlds and the Old Gods. Add in the fact that, oh, I have a nutcase trying to kill me…"
"Excuses, excuses."
"What?!"
"Well," the selkie raised an eyebrow at the boy. "They are. You could have made time to find out the legends and whatnot. And there was always visiting here, you know."
"How the hell do I visit here, when every time I've come here it's been against my will or because I've taken a potion!" Harry stuffed the last of the jerky into his mouth and glared at the selkie.
"Well, you should have found a teacher then. Someone to show you how to get here on your own, preferably to a marketplace, and not in the middle of the Dark."
"There are no teachers for me! They've all disappeared!" Harry wiped at his mouth with his hand and sighed, his anger leaving him in a rush. "Don't you think we already thought of that? That I had already searched our Library for something that might help me? There's nothing….absolutely nothing."
"But the Clans…" the selkie shook his head and watched the boy carefully. "The Clans should have had a Lore Keeper in their ranks…"
"The Clans are gone. The McVir family was all that was left, and it was slaughtered by the Dark Lord." Harry sighed heavily and looked out into the shadowy forest that had rose around them. "The Clans in America died out a generation ago, and the only one left from them is a mindless old man in a hospital somewhere in Idaho."
"This is grave news." The selkie frowned and rubbed his neck distractedly. "The Morrigan will not be pleased."
"She won't be pleased? Try me. How do you think I feel?" Harry grumbled, his shoulders hunching miserably. "I have to get back to my world – something…" Harry's breath caught in the back of his throat and his eyes burned. "Something's happened and they need to know about it."
The selkie pursed his lips and nodded, gazing off into the distance. "Alright – but first I'm taking you to a marketplace. There are…protections on these places, to make sure no one will fight inside the walls of them. They feel a bit different than the Paths, which aren't always safe. C'mon, I'll take you to one and then you can go home."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I still don't know how I get here in the first place! I mean –,"
"Then figure it out." The selkie's sharp tone silenced the boy. "Look, no one here can teach you what you need to know. You say there's nothing in your world that can teach you what you need to know. Fine. Then make it up as you go along."
Harry blinked at the creature next to him, an angry blush spreading across his cheeks. "I didn't ask for this."
The selkie turned his gaze to Harry, the look in them so alien it make the boy shiver. "That is not my problem. It is your problem and you must deal with it, or give up and die."
"I –," they had slowed to a stop and Harry growled softly under his breath. "I can't give up."
"Then you have no other choice than to figure this out." The creature shrugged and turned away once more.
"But why me?" Harry knew, intellectually, that they really did not have time for his tantrum, but the hard knot of anger simply wouldn't dissipate.
"Chance? Fate? Who knows." The selkie sighed and turned back to the boy, his expression softening slightly. "Perhaps it was not fair – but you cannot change that. Now, come along, we're wasting time."
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, glaring at the selkie's back as he started to walk away. Then his shoulders slumped and he let out a long rush of air. Bowing his head for a long moment, he pulled himself together. When all of this is over I'm going on a vacation. Someone else can save the wizarding world next time. He raised his head and squared his shoulders, trotting a bit to catch up with the selkie. I'm definitely going on vacation after this.
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Healer Fabing sighed as he straightened up from Harry's bed. The boy's bones had been set and were healing nicely. Harry's eyesight had been corrected and his shattered cheekbone repaired, but still, the boy would not wake.
"Is there anything you can do for him?" Sirius Black sat perched on the edge of his chair, his eyes never leaving the boy's face.
"We have done all that we can. What he needs is a way to control the visions, a teacher of some sort, anything. They are what is tearing the child apart, not the broken bones he comes back with." Aaron sighed and folded his hands away into the sleeves of his robe. "It is his mind I worry about the most."
"But he'll be alright, won't he?" Sirius dragged his gaze away from Harry's face to look up at the Healer. "He's never going to take the potion again – I won't let him, not if I have to stay right by his side for the rest of his life. He'll never take it again, I swear it." The blue eyes were fierce.
"I'm afraid that is not problem." Aaron shrugged and moved to the end of the bed, sitting in a chair near the wall. "The potion is in his system and it will not leave it for a very long time – if ever, since he's taken it so many times. He is the only wizard that has survived multiple doses of the potion – all other test subjects died after attempting to take the potion more than twice."
"Died?" Sirius' voice cracked. "And Albus let him do this more than once?"
Aaron shrugged once more, his eyes moving from the animagus and back to the boy. "Albus has his reasons for doing things. He has had many hard choices to make."
"Hard choices? Harry's not some choice, some thing he can decide to sacrifice at will! Harry's a – a – a person! He's my godson not some tool." Sirius surged to his feet, his hands curling into fists at his side. "How dare you stand up for that old fool –,"
"Albus Dumbledore is no fool, and I'll thank you to keep from insulting him in my presence." Healer Fabing's withering glare made a dent in Sirius' anger, deflating him a bit. "He has had to make hard choices – and yes, ones that you – and I – do not like. But," the healer's bloodshot eyes met Sirius', "what would we have done without the knowledge that Harry provided? We would have been defenseless when the Dark Lord attacked. We would not know of his plans, nor of his new weapons. Don't you see, Black? Albus has had to do what circumstance has forced him to do. He does not like it, let me assure you – but that did not stop him from doing it."
"He should have." Sirius' anger returned with a vengeance. "There were other ways to get the information that he wanted, other methods he could have explored first instead of turning immediately to Harry. He's only a boy!"
"I was – and am – aware of that, Sirius." The Headmaster's tired voice startled both men. Albus stood in the doorway, almost hesitantly, looking from Sirius to Aaron and back again. "Has he woken?"
"No. He's still unconscious." Sirius ground out between clenched teeth. "Not that you care…"
"But I do care, Sirius." Albus lifted his chin slightly and stepped fully into the room, ignoring the low growl that came from the animagus' throat. He stepped over to the boy's bed and sat down on the edge of it, reaching out to touch the lank hair spread out across the pillowcase. "Oh, my child," he bowed his head and let his hand fall back into his lap. "I am so very sorry."
"Fat lot of good your apology does now." Sirius glared at the older man, the vein in his forehead throbbing. "Look at him Albus! Look what you've done to him! Are you proud? Are you happy with your precious information now! Was it worth it –,"
"Yes, Sirius." There was no twinkle in the Headmaster's gaze as he looked up at the sputtering animagus. "It was worth it – and no, I am not happy. I will never be happy with my decision to use Harry's connection with Voldemort, but that is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I made the decision, the choice to have Harry take the potion; I cannot change that, and nor would I. Harry supplied us with the best information we could have ever have hoped for, and because of him, we are prepared against the Dark Lord's attack."
"I – I – I will never forgive you for this." Sirius' eyes were bright and shiny. "James must be turning over in his grave right now, and Lily," Sirius shook his head slightly, the movement spilling the tears over his eyelids. "How could you, Albus? How could you?" The animagus did not wait, but turned blindly for the door and stumbled out into the hall.
"He doesn't mean that, really." Harry's soft voice surprised the other men in the room. Albus leaned forward, his heart beating hard in his chest, reaching out for the boy's hands and scooping them up in his own.
"Harry?" Albus forced a smile on his face. "How are you, my boy?"
"Tired." The green eyes were clear and bright – too bright. Albus frowned slightly and leaned forward, peering into Harry's gaze.
"Healer Fabing?" Albus leaned back and caught the healer's gaze. Aaron hurried forward and flicked his wand over the boy, checking him over.
"He appears fine." Aaron frowned and pulled Sirius' chair closer to the edge of the bed. "Would you look at my wand and follow it, please, Harry?"
"How come I can see now?" The boy tracked the wand back and forth as Healer Fabing watched his pupils contract and expand.
"You suffered a terrible blow to your face in the vision. It shattered your cheekbone, and Severus was worried it might have affected your eye, so he made sure you had a sight regenerative potion. It corrected your vision along with any damage there might have been from the bone shards."
"But…" Harry turned his head to look at Albus. "It was only a vision, I did not go there physically."
"Yes. We think whatever happened in your mind made your body believe it was happening to you physically. You used up all of Madam Pomfrey's skele-gro stock. Severus had to get the reserves out from his lab and that was barely enough. He's down in the dungeons making more as we speak." The twinkle returned slightly to his eyes and he leaned down slightly. "Severus has been in quite the mood."
Harry, however, did not laugh. "What day is it?" The green eyes turned dark and they never wavered from the Headmaster's gaze.
"Friday, Harry. It is Friday." Albus exchanged a look with Aaron. "You've been unconscious for half a day."
Harry frowned slightly and let his gaze slide from the Headmaster and focus on the ceiling. "Friday." A line appeared between his brows as he nibbled on his lower lip. "Voldemort is already on his way. I –," a sight blush spread across the pale cheeks. "I kind of made him mad."
"I believe, Mr. Potter, Voldemort was already mad long before you were born." Albus patted the boy's hands gently.
Harry shook his head slightly and met the Headmaster's gaze once more. "No, he wasn't." The boy's eyes were pained. "He just wanted a home, is all. It's why he's attacking Hogwarts; it's why he wants it so much. If he wanted magical artifacts, he would have taken over Gringotts, or the Ministry, but he's bent on taking Hogwarts – he always has been."
"How do you know this, Harry?" Albus stroked the pale hands gently, his heart sinking.
"I saw his memories." Green eyes became dull as he stared past the Headmaster into somewhere only he could see. "He hungered for knowledge as a student – I think maybe hoping that one day someone might see how great he was and offer to let him stay at the school full time. He never considered anywhere else home."
"Harry…"
"But…something changed. He – he became bitter, angry, hateful. He went around the world, giving up pieces of his soul to gain more and more power." Harry's gaze sharpened and he blinked several times. "And now he wants to come home. The Riddle Mansion has only been a trophy for him to hold over his muggle father, a victory over his memory." Harry shook his head slightly and swallowed. "He hates you for driving him out of his home." He met the Headmaster's eyes evenly, color swiftly fading from his face.
"He needs to rest, Albus." Healer Fabing tsked as he busied himself at the bedside table. He picked up two vials and uncorked them, raising an eyebrow at the older wizard. "Albus…"
"Yes, yes." The Headmaster reluctantly let go of Harry's hands and stood. "I am glad to see you awake, Harry."
Green eyes shone brightly in the dim room. "It is good to be awake." He glanced towards the door and smiled slightly. "And don't worry about Sirius. He'll get over his snit soon enough."
"Sleep well, Harry." Albus backed away from the boy's bed and let Aaron feed the child the potions he held. His blue eyes were dark as he watched Harry slip back into slumber and with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumped. I would ask for your forgiveness, child, if I felt I deserved it. He shook his head slightly and quietly left the room, making his way to his office and his reports.
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Roan rubbed a hand across his face, sighing heavily. The marketplace he had led the lad to was in an uproar, and he'd barely been able to push the boy through one of the doors leading to the mortal world before he had been noticed. The resulting chase through the stalls had taxed him thoroughly.
"A selkie in a marketplace? Whatever has the Otherworld come to?"
Roan froze as his breath caught in his throat. He turned slowly, his eyes growing wide as he caught sight of his Lord standing behind him. He quickly knelt, bowing his head. "My Lord."
"Rise, Roan." Barinthus' voice was warm. He placed a hand on the selkie's shoulder and squeezed. "You have done well to stay awake all these long years."
"I have only done as you wished, my Lord." Roan was nearly trembling with excitement.
"And you shall be rewarded for that." The god looked past the selkie's shoulder and out over the dwindling marketplace, his expression falling. "How few we have become," he shook his head and sighed, his hand slipping from his servant's shoulder. "Come. I will need your help. The others are coming – the Sea is rising. There is much to do."
Roan nodded eagerly, hastily falling into step with his Lord. "Are you all returning, my Lord?"
Barinthus' eyes gleamed. "Aye, we are." They took the North Road from the marketplace, the dim light of the Path pulsing brighter with every step the god took on it. "The time of the One God is almost over. He must learn to share in this new age."
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"Michael?" Ron frowned as he looked around the abandoned classroom the other boy had asked to meet in. "Are you here?"
"Sorry I'm late." The Ravenclaw slipped through the door and closed it behind him, casting a silencing spell to insure their privacy.
"Do you have it?" Ron bounded eagerly to the other boy's side, a fine flush spreading across his cheeks.
"Yes." Michael suppressed the smug smile he could feel growing and opened his book bag to pull out several large sheets of paper. "Here." He spread them out on one of the large tables that dotted the edges of the room. "Do you see these faint lines?" He traced over a light blue line that encircled the entire school grounds. "That's where the old boundaries of the school are – where the Wards extend to after dark."
"So we'd have to get him past that line before darkness falls in order not to set off the alarms?" Ron chewed on his lower lip, his brows drawn together in thought. "But what about the Wards that are up now? We have to get past them first."
"Yes, but that can be taken care of. The Headmaster and Filch have an arrangement so that he can take students across the Wards at night for detentions – it's a password of some sort. We'd either have to get permission to cross the wards or get the Headmaster to let the students out onto the grounds tomorrow to get this to work."
"He'll never agree to that." Ron shook his head and growled softly. "And what about You-Know-Who? He has to have someone watching for people slipping off into the forest…"
"Yes, but if we're with Harry Potter he'll more than likely leave us alone." Michael folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "After all, the Dark Lord wouldn't want to hurt his most loyal follower, now would he?"
Ron's expression darkened as he planted his hands on the desk and stared down sightlessly at the map. "Maybe." He sighed and tapped his fingers on the wood nervously. "We still have to get past Potter's honor guard."
"That'll be easier if we have access to the grounds." Michael made a face. "He and his boyfriend will probably take off for the Quidditch Pitch to go snog under the bleachers or something."
"Ich." Ron turned slightly green and pushed himself off the desk. "Thanks for that image – ew."
"Well, what do you expect from two freaks like them?" Michael shrugged carelessly and began to roll the parchments up carefully. "What we need is for the Headmaster to allow us out onto the grounds tomorrow. It's imperative to our plan."
"Yeah." Ron planted his hands on his hips, a deep frown creasing his face. "Why don't you go talk to your Head of House, I'll go plead with McGonagall and maybe get Eloise to talk Madam Sprout into letting everyone out tomorrow. Surely," a glint entered the Gryffindor's eyes, "Surely the Headmaster won't begrudge us one day of freedom before You-Know-Who tries to take the castle."
"An excellent idea." Michael inclined his head slightly, hiding his smirk. "Shall we get started?"
"Yes." Ron nodded decisively, squaring his shoulders and plastering a smile onto his face. "Lets."
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"Albus?" Minerva slipped into the Headmaster's office, a particularly strange expression on her face.
"Yes, Minerva?" Albus glanced up from this pile of papers, the dark circles under his eyes standing out in the gentle light given off by his desk lamp.
"I – have an odd request." Minerva crossed the room and sank down into one of the plush seats that sat in front of Albus' desk.
"What is that?" The old wizard leaned back in his chair and took of his glasses, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
"The children…would like to go out tomorrow." Minerva frowned, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "I was approached by Mr. Weasley with the idea, and then by a few of the other teachers, whose students would also like to go outside tomorrow."
"While I can understand the children's wish," Albus sighed, shaking his head and slipping his glasses back onto his nose. "It simply isn't possible. It is too dangerous…"
"Surely, not if we have all the teachers and the Order members out patrolling the grounds?" The Transfiguration professor bit her lower lip and sighed. "You know as well as I do that I am the last person that would intentionally put the children into harms way – but they are frightened, Albus, and I am afraid that the tension is getting too much for them. What with the Order members warding the castle and the teachers helping to fortify the already existing wards…"
"I understand, Minerva, I do." Albus closed his eyes for a long moment, conflicted. "I'm afraid it simply is too dangerous."
"Albus." Minerva leaned forward slightly, her eyes bright. "Would it not be even more dangerous for the children to be strung so tightly that they snap at the first rush of the gates?"
"And you think that letting them run out onto the grass for a day will help this?" Albus frowned. "Minerva, this is not like you…"
"I know." She looked away, her expression falling. "It is just –," she spread her hands helplessly. "You-Know-Who has never made a direct attempt on the castle before, not like this." She turned back to him, her eyes shadowed. "Death Eaters I have faced, yes. But the army of the Dark Lord?" She shivered slightly. "Forgive me Albus, if I do doubt the outcome of this battle."
"Minerva." Albus rose and walked around the table, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Voldemort will never be able to take this castle as long as I am alive, as long as there are people here who fight against the raging Dark. Hogwarts herself won't let him step one foot into her halls while there are still some left to fight him."
"But what about his Death Eaters, his Dementors, his Dark Creatures?" Minerva shook her head rapidly and swallowed. "They will be able to come into the castle."
Albus squeezed her shoulder and let his hand drop to his side, walking slowly over to the fireplace and stared down at the flames. "Perhaps you are right." Minerva turned in her seat to look at him. "Perhaps we do need one day to forget the Darkness that looms over us."
"But you just said…" Minerva rose, taking a few steps towards him.
"Perhaps I was wrong." Albus' shoulders slumped and he clasped his hands behind his back tightly. "I have been wrong about a number of things."
"Albus –," Minerva crossed the last bit of distance and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You have always done your best. You are not Merlin, nor are you a god. You are human, and you make mistakes." She let her hand drop from his arm and took a step back. "You have never steered us wrong in all the years I have known you. Do not doubt yourself now."
Albus turned and gave her a half-hearted smile. "You are right." The smile did not reach his eyes, and the ever-present twinkle was greatly dimmed. "Forgive an old man and his musings."
"There is nothing to forgive." Minerva tucked her hands into her sleeves and met his gaze evenly. "As for tomorrow?"
"We will have to put everyone on guard – even Percy." Albus' expression darkened slightly. "We will patrol the borders of the wards, especially near the forest. I will inform the children at dinner."
"Lovely." The small smile that slipped across her face was genuine. "I will inform the other professors and Order members." She turned and made for the door.
"Make sure to have at least one Order member watch the Weasley family carefully." Albus' voice halted her and she turned to look at him.
"Why?"
"I would not have them use this opportunity to harm any of our Slytherin students." Albus' expression was grave.
"Albus!" Minerva frowned and shook her head. "They would never endanger us like that."
"I would still have you assign someone to watch them for me." Albus did not back down. "I would rather be too cautious than too trusting."
The pleased expression had rapidly faded from Minerva's face. "If that is what you wish, I will have someone watch over them for you." She inclined her head slightly and turned back towards the door, slipping out before the Headmaster could say another word.
Albus sighed once more and made his way back to his desk, rubbing his hands together. He had felt the tension rising in the students, but had hoped that the Dark Lord's attack would come before they reached their breaking point. He stared down at his reports, a sinking feeling spreading through his stomach. Please Merlin, he closed his eyes and gripped the edge of his desk tightly. Do not let me have made yet another mistake.
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End Chapter 41Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!