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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity

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Chapter Six: A Beautiful and Terrible Thing

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With a flick the French woman's platinum blonde hair brushed lightly across Harry's face and he was once again offered a scent which had been growing on him throughout the year, a scent that reminded him of spring days in his youth. Comparing his experience growing up in his relative's dubious care with that of time spent in Azkaban filled the fourteen year old with an odd sense of nostalgia to be working in light rain tending to his roses. He found it strange that the beauty before him could bring out pleasant memories from a time he always thought of as hell.

"We share 'ze victory 'zen. 'Ogwarts an' Beauxbatons both win." she said in an English heavily accented in her native timbre.

Harry's amusement peaked as he thought that she must have really been getting worked up about this particular bit of nonsense, and raising an eyebrow at her mulish look, he acquiesced with a tired, "Fine."

Grasping her left hand in his right the two placed their free hands on the angular cup, and for the second time in his eventful life Harry felt the navel‑hooking sensation which marked portkey travel. He crashed to the ground as always when experiencing magical forms of transportation, saving his life as a spear of crystalline ice rocketed through the place where his chest would otherwise have been.

"Kill the pair!" an aristocratic voice ordered, although the words were misheard by the teen, who rolled to the side and instantly unleashed a swelling mass of Hoarfrost from his Horntail wand. The spell on the tip of his mind thanks to his recent conversation with the Veela girl.

The mass of frigid magic impacted the unsuspecting Death Eaters who were lined up for an instant victory and so were not expecting to be faced with hastily organised resistance. Flashes and bangs were traded between the two champions and their dark cloaked foes, back to back they covered one another as lances of power crashed into Fleur's powerfully cast golden dome.

"Avada Kedavra!" incanted the dark haired man with a yell, and a pudgy masked figure took his last breath, offering them both an opening. "Get through that door Fleur, my portkey is not functioning."

European accent strong, the blonde sang out the five syllables of a limb severing curse 'Conseco Artus' and a bright blue ribbon raced out over her shoulder as the two charged forward, onward through the unknown of this mansion‑like fortress.

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Some long time later the two champions found themselves at a dead end, the warren of curving and interconnected corridors having gotten them thoroughly lost. There were no windows to be seen and Harry had concluded whatever this place was, it was either built completely underground, or was the colossal basement of some distant building.

Taking in his companion's look of focus as she was clearly attempting to think of a way out of her current situation, Harry once more noticed that the woman was, well... hot. There was simply no other word for it, tumbled hair and scrapes really did add to the woman's image.

"Will you stop looking at me an' 'elp think of a way out of this 'Arry." demanded Fleur, shaking him from his thoughts.

As he was about to respond a stabbing pain lanced through his forehead, similar to but subtly different from the sensation indicating a changeover, and as Harry's hand raced to his famous scar he changed what he was about to say, "He's here, Voldemort-, they've called him."

"Yesss I am here Harry Potter. I do not think you will escape me this time." The bald headed form of Voldemort declared in high pitched sibilant tones following a silent apparition into the room.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! We need to get out of here now. We can't get out of here because there is a madman standing in front of the only door. Any bright ideas there Harry, besides taunting I mean?

All the while his mind was charging through concepts which were less than helpful, power was bleeding off the self styled Dark Lord, making it clear that he was far out of Harry's league in terms of brute magical horsepower. Green eyes span to face him anyway with Harry throwing out a reflexive, "I don't know what you're talking about Flighty ma boy. I've successfully killed you three times now, and even dispatched your pet snake back when I was a second year."

Voldemort's eyes predictably narrowed in fury and Harry found himself recovering from an unimaginably powerful Cruciatus Curse to the sight of a softly glowing French girl utilising borderline magics. Forcing himself to his feet through the residual pain he whispered "Pupugi!" to let fly his trademark 'dragon‑slaying' curse, and the effectively transparent piercing magic cut a deep gash through the Dark Lord's neck, skittering past the targeted eye at the last instant.

With a roar the twisted man's firing speed went through the roof and the two teenagers fell back on the complete defensive. Harry recognised a portion of the spell‑string Voldemort was using as the same one the champion himself had used following the second task. Knowing the moment a churning black‑red spell was about to be cast, Harry realised that his companion was going to be incinerated and there was no shield he could cast to stop it. And worse, she was barely on her feet in the corner, so he could not tackle her out of its path.

I need a solid guardian. Need. I want, I need, a solid guardian. The thought blazed through Harry's mind and he pushed his intent through his magic, draining it brutally. No time to see if it worked, Harry dove to close the distance and let fly the pretty, calming green of a Killing Curse...

...before blacking out to prevent a changeover.

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This place really should be re-named 'The Harry Potter Wing of Hogwarts,' the exhausted teenager thought sardonically. If he combined with the number of hours spent in the place with the fame from his younger years, he might even be able to swing it.

"Awake again I see Mr. Potter." The school healer said as though she was in fact expecting to see him following the third task.

"Maybe you should start calling me Harry..." a thought occurred to him, "You know Poppy, you must have seen me naked more times than any other woman on earth. Interested in me showing my appreciation for all the care and attention?" he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows.

Shaking her head without answering the school healer got back to performing the diagnostic charm, and just as Harry noticed her eyes drift to the top right corner of the room he injected, "Get your mind out of the gutter woman, you're supposed to be a professional."

She blushed brilliantly at being caught out, and Harry smiled a winning smile at the woman who he decided in that moment actually was looking pretty good for being in her late forties.

While it was clearly the dead of night Harry did not have to wait long before an entourage of people scuttled into the Hospital Wing and he asked anyone and everyone the question he most wanted answered, "Well then, what the hell happened this time?"

"It appears as though Voldemort somehow diverted the portkey which was placed on the Triwizard Cup to take you to Malfoy Manor." It was Albus who eventually spoke.

"Malfoy Manor huh? Did I kill the Dark Lord again?"

It was Fleur who answered, "Oui. I managed to carry you out of 'ze wards an' back to 'Ogwarts once you fainted."

"I did not faint!" Harry exploded vehemently, "And why didn't you Rennervate me so I could have walked the last path to the castle under my own strength?"

Huffing about ungratefulness she went on, "I was about to do so, only then I decided you would 'ave stunned me and told everyone it was you who did 'ze actual rescuing!"

Damn, that was actually his first thought, the woman was becoming too good at reading him that was for sure!

"You did a full animal conjuration... wandlessly. It was great!" Sirius cut in excitedly, "I watched Ms. Delacour's memory in the Pensieve. It looked just like Hagrid's pet Hippogriff Buckbeak, and it kind of dove into this black and red spell."

"Indeed, it appeared to distract Voldemort long enough for you to deliver a Killing Curse." That last was said with a disapproving look on his bearded face.

Thinking for a while as the others chatted, Harry was once again beginning to feel the fatigue which accompanied healing. "So I'm four and oh now, at some point someone is going to have to explain to me what makes this guy the most powerful Dark Lord in history..." eyes drooping from one potion or another, he muttered his final comment as sleep took him, "he seems kind of a pansy to me."

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Leaning against a solid marble wall the perfect image of a pretty teenage girl, the redhead was studying an eleven inch length of holly in admiration as she had done many times before. Diagnostic spells ran on the artefact had shown that there was a good reason the wand was as well matched as the thirteen and a half inch yew wand with which the individual was most familiar. The magical core this wand used was from a phoenix, a tail feather taken from precisely the same phoenix as the other, far more familiar wand. Which was a good enough explanation as any as to the redhead's good fortune.

The individual did not have a name. She did however have a purpose. Once had two purposes in fact, but with the death of the Basilisk the only thing left to do was resurrect her master. She was forced to do so a second time as her master had once again gotten himself killed by a teenage boy, requiring the scraping up of drying blood from the floor near where Voldemort had fallen.

The scraped blood was to be used in a rebirth ritual today, as today was three days following summer's solstice, and the redhead had ready a hastily constructed homunculus body. The hideous thing had been finished mere minutes previously, allowing the ritual to go ahead once again.

What had the once Ginny Weasley conflicted however, was the certain knowledge that she would have likely stood up much better against the two champions, than had her ostensibly far more powerful master.

A circumstance which was ridiculous in the extreme.

Watching dispassionately when Lucius Malfoy shuddered as he separated his left hand and dropped it into a large bubbling cauldron, the redhead walked over as she had done three months before and added blood, forcibly taken from Harry Potter during the fight, the same day, from this very location, into the same cauldron. From her lips clearly enunciating the appropriate words, completed the ritual flawlessly.

The Dark Lord Voldemort, an anagram of his birth name, robed himself and set about creating the specifically requested golden hand for his Inner Circle follower. He then made a grand showing of how vitally important it was to acquire the full wording of a prophecy of all things, which seemingly had been the cause of his first downfall.

The Death Eaters present were all overawed at their Master's capacity for surviving death, and they cheered at their new objective.

The redhead went back to its study of the holly wand, deep in conflicted thought.

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The end of fourth year had approached and Harry Potter was thinking back over the previous week since his newest kidnapping and the most recent dispatching of his family's murderer. Other than a night spent with Trace as he had been doing intermittently throughout the year, and a more than pleasant meal on the Beauxbatons carriage enjoying a world class serving of salmon in mushroom sauce, his week had been both relaxing and uneventful.

The one regret on Harry Potter's mind was that Fleur had gotten to the press before he could, so his whole heroic princess rescuing story had been scuppered before he could even get it off the ground.

Looking over at his godson Sirius said, "You're thinking about the girl again aren't you?"

"Yeah, can you imagine her face if people start asking her about how brave and heroic I am, while they all think she was yelling 'save me, save me' the whole time. That would have been brilliant!"

Hermione interjected, "I heard that she's sworn never to set foot outside of France until she is married and has children. You do not make the best impressions on people Harry."

Taking one last glance around the Black Lake, Harry turned away, heading back toward the castle. "Come on, let's go get the full story out of Albus. I really shouldn't have put it off until the last day."

The dog animagus followed beside Harry, quietly saying, "Yeah, I for one want to know what happened to Remus."

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"You do not know what happened to Remus Lupin?" Albus half questioned, half stated in his office twenty minutes later. The disbelieving question looked as though it had aged the man fifty years.

This does not bode well, thought Harry, it was like the Headmaster thought they already knew something bad had happened and wasn't expecting to have to tell them himself.

It was actually Hermione who, in a small voice answered the question. "Professor Lupin was a werewolf, and he lost control of his transformation during a full moon at the end of last year. I-, I didn't know he was your friend."

"What do you mean Hermione?" Sirius demanded in a flat voice.

"Professor Snape killed him to save me."

"..." the room was stunned for a moment at this revelation.

"WHAT!" the animagus roared, as he span to leave the room with little doubt as to his destination.

The door back to the hallway slammed shut at Dumbledore's command. "This is not the subject I expected to be discussing this evening. I assure you it was not done out of malice, please watch the Pensieve memory and judge for yourself what Remus would have wanted to happen in the situation."

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"I'm still going to kill Snape. What makes you think the memory is even genuine?" Harry's godfather declared yet again after an hour of argument. Harry himself could see both sides. A feral werewolf going berserk around schoolchildren, and if the man was anything like Sirius had attested he would have preferred to be killed rather than pass on his affliction. It might have played out the way Dumbledore claimed, not everyone got a happy ending unfortunately. Harry knew that in his bones.

"What subject did you anticipate discussing this evening Albus?" the green eyed man enquired, hoping to move beyond the bad news for a while.

Taking the out with a look of relief mixed with one of trepidation, the aged man said one pluralised word: "Horcruxes."

"Good, new information, I half expected for you go on about the damned prophecy Sirius told me about, 'power to vanquish the Dark Lord' and all that bollocks."

"Oh, the prophecy, yes I shall give you the full wording first..." seeing Harry's rolled eyes the Headmaster continued regardless.

'... one with the power approaches ... thrice defied him ... mark him as his equal ... power knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can die while the other survives ... power to vanquish ... seventh month dies ...'

After mulling over the prophetic words for a span Harry asked, "What's this crazy power I'm supposed to have? No wait, 'neither can die while the other survives?' So does that mean I am just as immortal as he is?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore warily confirmed the second point. "However the method by which Voldemort has attained his immortality leaves you at a distinct disadvantage." Waving for the man to go on Dumbledore complied, "Your mother performed a ritual on you when you were a baby, and I believe a side effect of this ritual caused Voldemort to unknowingly transfer a small amount of his soul onto your famous scar. If I am correct in my supposition that tiny piece has entangled, meshed together as it were, with your soul, rendering you as the prophecy asserts; 'the Dark Lord's equal.'"

Okay, now that was not the kind of statement which could have been predicted in a million years, and probably needed to be thought about for a while... later. Eventually he voiced a simpler conclusion, "Those changeover headaches when I use too much magic in one sitting, that's the sliver of the Dark Lord's soul trying to take me over? Possession I guess, or something like it?"

"Indeed, I was quite confident in my conclusions, however the events following the second task were more than confirmation."

A long contemplative silence descended on the room as each became lost in their own thoughts. Hermione having the fastest moving brain today was the first to ask a question. "You mentioned a word; Horcrux. What does it mean may I ask? What is it? Are they?"

"A Horcrux is an item produced by a decidedly dark ritual. It involves sacrificing an innocent in order to damage a witch or wizard's soul. This ritual uses this damage to slice away a small section and encase it into an object which then becomes known as a Horcrux." Seeing that everyone was following his description Dumbledore continued. "And I have reason to believe Voldemort has created more than one."

A few seconds thought and Harry suggested, "Ginny Weasley's Diary right? That must be why she's helping him."

"Alas I believe you are correct, the process has doubtlessly killed the poor girl by now. And if your tale at the climax of your second year is true, I believe her body is being used by a sixteen year old Tom Riddle."

Sirius and Hermione came to the same conclusion. "So there could be hundreds of these Horcruxes scattered around the world, and they could look like anything and everything?"

Harry laughed, "They won't be old mars bar wrappers and tin cans Hermione. He's a maniac remember, I'd bet you anything he'd put one in the Ministry Atrium or something stupid like that just so he can laugh at everybody."

The Headmaster smiled a little at the phrasing. "Yes, the suppositions I have come to a quite similar. I also believe he would be limited in the number of Horcruxes he could make, knowing that the instability in his soul would kill him if he pushed it too far. As far as I am aware no‑one else in history has successfully created more than two of these objects."

A while was spent going over the points again and Harry finally just quit. "I'm going to bed, I want to spend a while thinking about this... Are you coming to-, urg, damn Fidelius, to stay with us in an unnameable location at some point this summer Hermione?"

At her nod Harry swept from the room, evident distraction behind his eyes.

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While his godson was zooming his way back to London on the Hogwarts Express, Sirius was ensconced in Dumbledore's Office arguing himself hoarse. "Why? What in heaven's name could he possibly say to convince you he is anything but a murderous bastard?"

"You saw the Pensieve memory as well as I. It is clear that without his aid Ms. Granger and her associate would have perished." insisted the elder man.

"The man is a master Occlumens, he can alter his recollections you have said so yourself. So that means you believe him for some other reason, tell me why. That bastard has gotten enough of my friends killed as it is and I will not take the risk."

"You are simply going to have to trust me Sirius." They argued on for the longest time, with Sirius doing most of the arguing while Albus stubbornly refused to give away any further information. Eventually the Headmaster managed to manoeuvre his way toward a change in topic. "What plans do you have for this summer? I assume Harry is going to continue practising beneath the wards of House Black."

Sirius looked mulish for an instant thinking on whether he was going to leave the topic of his old friend's demise alone for the moment. "Yes we are, and probably research the ritual for creating a Horcrux. You should give us the books you have to save us some time though, because we are going to find out about it regardless as to whether you think it safe knowledge to have."

"I was planning on it Sirius. There is little of value I can teach Harry myself which you could not for the time being, not until he learns more of the basics of magic at any rate. However I would advise you to teach him the shield Imprimis Patrocinor if you know how to produce one."

Thinking the animagus went on, "No, I haven't tried to teach him. Why, do you think this is important?"

"It is imperative for him to know this. I will demonstrate. Cast a cutting or bludgeoning spell at me." Dumbledore ordered clearly placing his wand on the table. "Impactus!" sent high level blunt force at the old man's chest, which detonated quite harmlessly a short distance from him. "You can cast one can you not?"

"A wandless shield, I didn't even know one that strong was possible." Coming back to the earlier question he answered, "I am able to cast one, but casting it takes me almost thirty seconds, so I have never used it in a real fight."

"Understandable, but you know it well enough to teach so that should be enough. Once he can do it with proficiency I would advise Harry to use the same intent wandlessly, this is how I produce the defence. Although it is quite draining I assure you."

Nodding along with this Sirius asked the thing which had been bugging him since he first saw the French girl's memory. "How can a person conjure something as complex as a Hippogriff without a wand Albus?"

"I have a suspicion, nothing more." The old man intimated stroking his long white beard. "I do not believe he did. I remember a time in my youth when I accidentally transfigured my brother Aberforth into a goat when he was attempting to steal my hard candy. It was accidental magic of course, but amusing nevertheless, even my mother thought so."

Shaking his head at the ridiculous story he asked, "So how did Harry do it then?"

"I believe he must have transfigured an insect or perhaps a rat, which I assume was in the room at the time. An incredible feat given how much you said he struggles in the area, but far from impossible."

The two talked for a while longer, Sirius brought together plans for how they were going to spend the summer, and getting what information he could about the goings on of the Order. Eventually deciding he had gotten as much done at Hogwarts as he was going to Sirius got up to leave, still unsure as to whether or not he should kill Snape in cold blood.

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As he walked down the dark path Harry was lost in thought. The Dark Lord was obviously dead set on killing him and Harry really could not condone such a course of action. The man had killed his parents, but then again he had never met his parents so it's not like it was really all that much of a loss. No, what Harry was annoyed about was that the man kept trying to kill him now, for no gods damned reason at all.

Stepping into a well recognised alcove he waited for the enforcer patrolling the corridor to pass him by.

Harry was tempted to owl Voldemort the full contents of the prophecy just to make sure the guy knew he was wasting his time. He wouldn't use Hedwig of course, she was much too valuable a friend to risk some headcase harming her, but a post owl, why not?

Shrouded in his father's old invisibility cloak Harry continued on his way.

No, apparently the Dark Lord was wasting a great deal of his effort in an attempt to break into the Ministry, so Harry would just leave it alone. Maybe he would be getting in the way of someone else's plans if he sent a letter to Voldemort. There was that other thing too, apparently there was an outside chance Harry might be invincible. And the only real downside was that he could not risk magical exhaustion because it had the high likelihood of him going berserk and killing everyone.

He began travelling down a long‑ass flight of stairs.

That's just it though, he had only experienced one changeover and that was only because he didn't know to be wary of it. He had completed a full Triwizard Task, fought his way through a Mansion Fortress, and had successfully killed a Dark Lord without suffering from enough magical exhaustion to become susceptible to the soul fragment. Surely that meant that Harry was competent enough not to let it happen, and could be happy in the knowledge that he might well be immortal. Pretty much immortal maybe? Semi‑invincible perhaps? Even better, he had been given this great boon without having to perform a dangerous soul damaging ritual as had the Dark Lord.

If only he could think of a good way to test it though.

As he arrived at his destination, deep down beneath the bowls of Castle Azkaban, Harry Potter acknowledged to himself that he was sorely tempted by what was being offered by these turns of events.

"Hey Bella, I brought you some more hot chocolate."

"Harry‑ee," squealed Bellatrix Lestrange.