Title: Revenge from the grave.
Author: Black blade
Chapter tile: On the other side.
Disclaimer: umm looks up innocently not mine.
Summary: Slash, One year has passed since the day Harry Potter was killed by Voldemort in a desperate effort to save Snape from certain death. Harry is back from the grave to finish the job he was born to do. Kill the murderer of his parents. Will he succeed or will he fall? For there is no coming back from the dead if he fails again.
Beta: Websurffer. Thank you.
Reviewers: Thanks mates. Love the kind words.
Author's note: This is the second part of what happened to Harry when he died, just so you don't get confused. Sorry for the large delay I haven't given up this story I just haven't had the time, sorry.
xXx
Harry followed the invisible strand of magic that linked him to Voldemort. He had a sense of de-ja-vu as the town passed by under him. By the time he landed outside the old house he was shivering with the cold and shaking with nerves.
He looked at the house then looked in the direction he had come from. He was at the half way point he could walk into the house and most probably to his death or he could turn and go back to Hogwarts and let Severus die. A feeling deep inside of his cried out that he needed to save Severus while another asked why he should save the life of a man who had taunted and ridiculed him for the last five years.
In the end the part to save Severus won out, Hermione would have called it the 'saving people' part of him He hid his Firebolt in an over grown bush outside the house and slipped around the side of the house. He found the window he'd used to get in during his vision and pushed the glass up and pulled himself through.
He pulled out his wand and crept down the hall. The feeling of eyes on his back as the passed the pictures gave him the shivers. Out of the corners of his eyes he was sure he could see dark shapes.
He kept walking ignoring the feeling. He reached the end of the hall where the door that would led him to the dining room stood. He pushed open the door with issued a soft squeal in protest. The dining room looked the same as Harry rushed, as silently as he could, to the other end.
His luck holding again as the door in front of him had been was left ajar. He pushed it open breathing a sigh of relief as the creaking of the door went unnoticed by the men inside. Harry slipped in not bothering closing the door and running the chance of the men hearing the under oiled door's protests. The death eaters were still crowded around Voldemort and the ten kneeling death eaters. Harry assumed that Voldemort had just finished initiating the ten of them in fact that theory was confirmed shortly as Voldemort's voice cut through the air.
"Welcome to the death eaters," Voldemort hissed as the other death eaters cheered.
Harry sided up to Voldemort like he had done last time taking in the bleeding pile that was Severus. He pulled the invisibility cloak closer to his body as he stared down at the broken body of his professor in horror. The man's injuries looked even worst in real life Harry. He felt like throwing up or crying at the sight. Severus body seemed to be twisted up in a ball. Bloody hand marks scored the floor in uneven lines around the body.
In fact if Harry couldn't see the slight shivers that racked the body he wouldn't have believed the man was still alive by the amount of blood covering him. How could these monsters do this to another man? Flesh and blood just like them? How could they take pleasure out of this?
As if in slow motion Harry pulled out the sock from his pocket as he leaped towards Severus. Being careful of the man's injuries he grabbed up Severus's hand and curled it around the sock. Severus didn't move next to him at Harry's touch, in fact, Harry hoped the man was unconscious.
"Home," Harry whispered activating the portkey, it would take five seconds to work.
Five
Harry's cloak slipped slightly off one of his shoes unnoticed.
Four
Voldemort noticed the foot in mid air next to his prisoner.
Three
Harry grasped as a claw like hand wrapped around his ankle he struggled kicking out at the man, who let go with a grunt.
Two
A hand grasped his cloak.
One
Harry was violently ripped off Severus as the man disappeared.
Harry was flung across the room landing in a painful pile.
"Well, well, well. What de we have here?" Voldemort sneered advancing on the prone boy.
Harry scrambled back, his back colliding painfully with the wall, as his scar flared up with pain. Voldemort flicked his wand and whispered a locking charm. Harry gulped, so much for the under thought out plan, Harry mused to himself.
Harry jumped to his feet, pulling the cloak around him, he looked down to make sure his body was covered. He skipped to the side as Voldemort reached out for him.
"Come on, Potter, lets not play hide and seek," Voldemort taunted, red eyes flashing, like a snake seeking a mouse.
Harry shivered as he shifted away from the man. His eyes danced around the room looking for a way out. The death eaters were closing in on all sides, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he was found. He pulled his wand, if he was going down he was going to take some of these bastards with him!
"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.
A red beam of light streamed from his wand, Harry put as much power as possible into it spell and was rewarded as three death eaters went down. After that, it was all a blur of coloured lights as they came from every direction as Harry dropped to the floor to avoid being hit.
If he weren't in such a serious situation he would have laughed, for the spells were doing more damage to the other death eaters and the décor than to Harry. The few spells that did come in his direction were easy to roll away from.
"Stop!" Voldemort shouted.
Instantly the light show was over. Harry felt slightly disappointed that snake face had stopped his entertainment. He had just noticed Crabbe had his wand pointed in the direction of Malfoy and wanted to know what would happen next.
"There's an easier way to find the boy, Accio invisibility cloak!" Voldemort hissed.
Harry, who wasn't expecting Voldemort or his death eaters to have an ounce of intelligence, was caught off guard at Voldemort spell. Before he could utter a spell he crashed into Voldemort, who held the back of his cloak in a vice like grip.
"Nice of you to join us again, Potter." Voldemort hissed in his ears, making Harry shiver.
He was either catching a cold or was scared shitless, unfortunately he was forced to bet on the latter. Voldemort ripped off his cloak revealing him to the rest of the conscious death eaters. Harry glanced around and his panic filled mind, for some twisted reason, noted the large number of unconscious death eaters. Not too bad for only getting in one spell, Harry thought to himself.
Harry's smirk was wiped off his face when Voldemort unexpectedly let him go. Harry fell to the ground painfully as he landed awkwardly on his side. He righted himself quickly and jumped to his feet, wand still held in his hand. He was proud of the fact that his hand didn't shake as he held it out; if only he could make the rest of his body do the same.
"Wish I could say the same about seeing you, but I don't know how anyone could say they come to these meeting to see your ugly mug," Harry taunted.
"Crucio!"
After the first spell Harry could only recall the pain. Hours or months later the pain stopped for a minute. It took him minutes to pull himself together enough to even realize the pain had stopped. He hurt all over, his head pounded, his body was cover in a film like substance, that Harry believed might be blood, and he didn't want to tempt fate to raise his head to find out. He believed that even raising his head at this moment in time would end his life.
He felt the air brushing against the broken skin of his torso and made an educated guess that his shirt was missing. How the piece of cloth had been removed and how was a great mystery to the broken teen.
He lay on his side curled in a slight ball as both his front and back felt like they were on fire. His breathing came in gasps and each intake of breath sent stabs of pain through his crest. He guessed his leg and wrist were broken and his fingertips were ripped apart from clawing at the floor.
Pain exploded in his side as some one rolled him over with a rough kick, Harry groaned. He felt the cuts on his back break open on the wooden floor and groaned again. It was then that he voices penetrated the hazy around him his slow moving mind.
"Harry…"
"…is he alive…"
"…looks dead…"
"He is alive and he will die…"
"Hand him over Tom…"
Harry opened one eye, for the other refused to cooperate with him at that moment in time. His vision was slightly blurred he assumed his glasses must have fallen off at one point. He didn't know why that thought amused him and he was sure that he wasn't too far from becoming insane by the pain racking his body and mind. He could see a group of people in black cloaks in front of him, death eaters, his slow mind offered. He congratulated it that it could even recall the name before pain butted into his thinking.
He painfully rolled his head to the other side. Just to see if the grass was greener on that side. A gasped issued from the group. Harry looked at them in detached fascination as blackness crept into the sides of his vision. He felt like he was drifting away from his body as he looked at the blurry people in front of him. His mind couldn't even recall names to him they could have been Tom, Dick or Harry for all he knew.
The pain in his too small body over ridded all thinking except survival. He was starting to know what a science experiment mouse felt like.
"Hand him over Tom," the one with the white beard at the front of the group said.
Harry's eye slipped off the group and stared at the floor. He could see bloody claw marks on the floor and he was wondering where they had come from. He seemed to recall another man with black hair and cloak.
No, no that was from before or was that another time?
"Why should I do that?" Another man hissed.
Harry was confused and his head hurt from thinking, he started to relax against the floor, the darkness called to him.
"What are you offering for him," the hissing man spat.
Harry was growing numb he couldn't feel anything and his vision was tunneling in, his breath was coming slowly. The light was getting brighter the darkness at the sides of his vision were growing darker. Making a very twisted and weird black and white picture.
The hissing man seemed to realize that Harry's attention was wandering for pain sliced through his body. He arched his back in pain but didn't scream his throat wouldn't allow any more noise. The curse lifted and he focused on what was happening. The light and dark receded, much like a middle-aged man's hairline.
There seemed to be a growling in the room and Harry looked up into the face of a man. The brown haired man stopped when he saw Harry watching him. He knelt down close to him as shouting sounded in the room.
"Harry, can you hear me?" the man said brokenly.
Harry continued to stare unable to voice his answer or to physically answer either.
"Don't worry Harry we'll get you out of here." The man reached out with a trembling hand and grasped Harry's bleeding one.
Harry frowned he felt the hand on his it felt cold to his over heated body.
"Isn't this sickening sweet," the hissing man mocked.
The brown haired man looked up and growled.
"Does the werewolf want to save Potter? Well To bad. Avada Kedavra!"
Time stopped as Harry stared up at Remus, who wore a horrified expression, as the green light surrounds him. He felt his breath hitch, his heart beat once then stopped and his vision wavered. The green light entered him like poison and his breath stopped altogether he seemed to be floating he saw himself sprawled out on the wooden floor of Voldemort's lair, Remus crouched next to him.
He heard the evil laughter of the man who had just killed him. He saw the stunned and painful expressions of the order. He felt the sadness and despair. He saw the silent tears. He saw the end of one thing the beginning of another. He felt the glee of the masked men. He felt his own sadness and rage at the injustice of the world.
He watched as Voldemort and his death eaters disapparated from the room with a pop.
He watched as Remus gathered his body in his arms and held him close as tears fell down his face.
He watched as Dumbledore gave orders to the order to go to the headquarters.
He watched as Remus lifted up his bloody body in his arms and disapparated out.
He watched as Dumbledore looked down at the blood stained floor with tears of his own spilling down his face.
Harry slowly pulled away from the room and looked to the bright light behind him then back to the room.
He had failed.
Voldemort was still alive.
He had failed.
The snake faced mad man should be dead, not him!
As the light pulled him away, rage and hopelessness consumed him. Voldemort should be dead! Harry Potter should live to old age, the age where you revert back to a baby and have to wear diapers, and watch as his grandchildren destroyed his home.
He shouldn't have failed!
A great sadness descended on him all the rage disappeared as he thought about all he had left at the hand of a mad man. Would his friends live long lives now that he was gone?
xXx
'People once believed that when someone dies, a Crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the Crow can bring the soul back and put the wrong things right.'
xXx
White light flashed, when his vision cleared he stood in a lush rain forest in front of him was a wood and rope bridge across a valley. Harry gasped at the beauty before him, he felt tainted faced with the images of heaven. He fell to his knees over whelmed by deep feelings.
The magic in his veins thumped in time with a heart he believed would never beat again. Magic, life and death filled this place; the trees sung to him their stories of times forgotten by all. He knew instinctively that the bridge in front of him was the last leg of his travels. Over that bridge would be his final resting-place. He had wished many times to see his parents and godfather, but now facing that decision he couldn't decide.
He had made friends build a life for himself and mourned the passing of his loved ones that had passed before him. Voldemort still lived to threaten his friends. Could he stand back and let snake face kill his family? Could he live with his parents and godfather knowing he had doomed the magical world?
"You look lost, little one?"
Harry's head spun around to glaze upon a beautiful young woman behind him. Harry wiped harshly at the tears that had fallen down his face before rising to his feet. The young woman of late twenties stared kindly down at him. Her kind featured face made even Harry smile gently back at her. A faint silver glow surrounded her body and bathed the grass under her feet in light.
"I am lost…ma'am," Harry replied unsure of himself. "I don't know what I should do now."
The woman smiled gently at him, "I can feel the hurt, pain and sorrow in you unlike anyone that has passed through these lands, what make you different?"
"I…I don't know…oh sorry I didn't introduce myself," Harry said in a rush, blushing. "I'm Harry Potter."
The woman took Harry's offered hand in hers, "Shelly Webster."
"Why are you here?" Harry asked uncertainly.
Shelly smiled sadly, "I'm waiting for some one. We were killed on the 'day of the dead'. He went back to right the wrong against us. I'm waiting for him."
"He must mean a lot to you."
"Yes we were going to get married until…"
"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely.
"Oh don't bother yourself with that, little one. It was meant to be."
The two fell into thoughtful silence each remembering a life lost to them too early.
"Did you say he went back?" Harry asked a few minutes later.
"Yes, it is said that a crow is the line between the underworlds and the world of the living," the woman glanced over his shoulder. "And I believe that you are still needed little one."
Harry turned to see where the woman was looking to see a large Crow perched on the rope bridge.
"Time travels differently here, little one." Shelly said softly close to him. "I believe that you may still be able to help. Your sorrow is too deep for your soul to rest, the land of the living is calling you back little one."
As if hearing her works the Crow cried loudly, the bird flapped suddenly rising in the air to wheel around the two.
"My Eric told me once that when he returned a year had passed there while only minutes had passed here. You can put to rest the sadness in your soul little one." Shelly said giving Harry a gentle push towards the bridge. "Good luck little one," Shelly called as Harry hesitantly stepped onto the bridge.
He walked a few more paces on shaking legs until he stood in the middle of the bridge unsure of what was to happen now. The crow cried loudly making Harry look up as it flew down to him and settled on the bridge's rope guild line.
The crow cocked its head to the side as if saying 'well what are you going to do?'
"I want to go back," Harry said softly. "I have a job to do."
The crow cocked its head looking into his eyes and Harry felt like it was looking into his soul as well. Then the crow took flight and spiraled down beneath Harry's feet towards the raging river below.
Harry watched it fly, so freely in the air. The crow cried back up to his as if asking 'are you coming?' Harry looked once more to the lush forest, where Shelly still stood, on one side of the bridge and the lighten forest on the other then back to the crow.
His mind made up he swung his leg over the rope side rail and looked down at the raging river far below. The crow came back up to him, then spiraled down as if mocking him. Harry smiled then let go of the rope and jumped like a swimmer driving from a high board.
The river grew closer and closer, he looked to the side to see the crow beside him. He looked up at the bridge then closed his eyes. He felt a tingle across his skin then it was gone along with his awareness of time and space.
xXx
Harry opened his eyes to darkness and the feeling of being underground. A steady thump, thump, thump resounded around him as he lay on his back. To his ears it sounded like a drum. He raised his hands only to encounter a barrier above him. His hand crawled over the soft surface, he was boxed in!
Panic flared in his mind as he smashed his hands into the wood above him. He couldn't breath the air was thin and stale. In panic he punched and kicked, ripping away the silk covering. The wood gave wayunder Harry's hash treatment and dirt and soil poured into Harry's limited space. He may be home but he was stuck under six feet of dirt.