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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity
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Chapter Eight: Kansas City Shuffle
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It was the fifth of October and the first Hogsmeade weekend. With the rebirth of Voldemort and the war going on, Harry had decided to stick with the Time‑Turner and stay on thirty hour days. He had been long used to the altered sleeping schedule anyway so changing it back was not a high priority. Things had been surprisingly tame since the beginning of term, thanks mainly to Harry's insistence that he had no interest in being involved with Dumbledore's war now that Voldemort was out in the open. Apparently his disinterest at faceless muggle attacks and the Dark Lord's attention being focused on their ridiculous prophecy was not quite getting through to Hermione, and more surprisingly Sirius.
Harry had after much cajoling, taken the animagus revealing potion despite not really caring to learn how to turn into an animal. This had been fine originally, being all but convinced he'd have an awesome form; a panther or a thestral or something equally cool, but no... his form was not quite so impressive. The upshot being that his godfather had been laughing his arse off since he had learned of it, teasing him mercilessly.
"Damn Sirius," he said on the way toward his destination, walking passed a distracted Neville Longbottom.
There had predictably been a new Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at the beginning of the year, but compared to Alastor 'I am completely off my tree' Moody, a frog faced spinster was nothing but a pushover. From the looks of things it seemed as though the Ministry had appointed her to mess about with Hogwarts and probably try to kill Harry if the opportunity ever arose, but with the outing of the Dark Lord her primary purposes had been left a little moot.
The defence teacher had attempted to get him to show up to detentions following the one and only class Harry had attended, but due to his policy of not going to them she had so far been left disappointed. Even appealing to Headmaster Dumbledore, who had told her that Harry rarely bothered going to class let alone detentions, and before she could ask any further questions, proceeded to vanish in a flash of phoenix fire.
Harry found that story amusing for some reason he could not quite put his finger on.
Nevertheless it was due to the esteemed Dolores Jane Umbridge, which was a ridiculous name by the way, that Harry was on his way out of Hogwarts and toward today's meeting. The woman had cornered him and told him of the new Minister for Magic, a man named Rufus Scrimgeour, and how the former Auror had wanted to meet with Harry and perhaps speak to the press. From Sirius' comments, the aunt of one of the pretty Hufflepuffs in Harry's year was the current Director of Magical Law Enforcement. And she had turned down the top job allowing a far less competent candidate to become leader of Britain's magical government.
Harry liked the idea of meeting with this Scrimjeour. Talking to the press side by side with the Minister for Magic would be just the kind of thing a heroic young world saviour type such as himself should be doing.
It was his duty after all.
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"May I introduce to you all Harry Potter." The man had streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair, and the yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire‑rimmed spectacles were calculating, betraying the smile on his face as a fake, the kind of obsequious smile which was always pasted across a career politician.
The man had no idea who he was dealing with.
Harry flicked open his designer Hack Sunglasses and confidently placed them on his face, shading his eyes from the glare of a noonday's sunlight. Acromantula carapace armguards and signature dragon leather boots gracing his form stood out against the formal attire, and he released the previous summer's well practiced Visible Aura.
Harry strode up to the podium to the distinctive opening bars of a song stolen the previous evening from Sirius' vinyl record collection; a man named George Thorogood proclaiming to the world the manifestation of an individual 'Bad to the Bone.'
The press had no idea who they were dealing with either.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen." he whispered, relying on a subtle magical amplification to make himself heard by all those present.
The first to get over the entrance was Bella's old roommate, the Daily Prophet's highest paid journalist, and so she got out the opening question. "Harry, they are calling you the Chosen One. Is it true you are the only one who can defeat He‑Who‑Must‑Not‑Be‑Named?"
"Well let me just say: 'the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ...' A prophecy such as this sounds pretty clear to me." Harry answered with a winning smile. "Would you not agree Rita?"
"So it is true?" Another reporter exploded, and all those listening in over the wizarding wireless held their breath. This was turning out to be a far more interesting broadcast than the expected political rhetoric.
Scrimgeour moved in to answer this one. "Of course, and together the new Ministry will do everything in its power to help young Harry do his duty."
Young Harry is it now?
He unleashed another smile and twinned it with a more intense flaring of his magical aura, retuning attention to a more appropriate focus, back onto the young man.
"Interestingly enough, I have no desire whatsoever to help your pathetic nation. You people threw me into Azkaban for attempting to save a young girl's life, and as of two months ago I was to be returned to my cell for sedition of all things."
An echoing quiet met these words.
"That is right. You people have cured me of my desire to save anyone I do not know personally. I am going to allow Flighty and the Shiny Hand Gang to kill you all. Likely as not he'll turn this country into his own private dictatorship..." he trailed off for a vicious few heartbeats. "That is, unless..."
More quiet.
Eventually one of the shocked audience shouted, "Unless what?"
"That's just it. I do not know. But I think it's about time you all start thinking about what you can do for me. What does Harry Potter want, what does Harry Potter deserve, what are you willing to give Harry Potter for him to even want to save your very lives?"
With that he gave his best Lockhart smile, wandlessly span off a fine grey mist, and vanished with a near inaudible crack or apparition.
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"Interesting press conference Harry." The blonde said in her distracted tone, leaning against the corridor wall with a folded peace of parchment grasped in her hands.
"Yeah well, I thought so too. Bloody hate the kine you know? A bunch of hapless lemming, sheep." He muttered this looking her over, and after a time down to her hands. "What's that you've got there Luna?"
"You gave me it a few moments ago and asked me to deliver it to you when you showed up here. And here you are, so please accept this parchment. Did I deliver it well Harry?"
"I gave it to you?"
"Yes."
"Polyjuice potion again?"
"I do not think so. What does it say?"
Harry unfolded the parchment and read three polyjuice imposter questions before concluding that he really had written to himself. Scanning down to the actual message he read:
'You can get to Bella if you move right now. She will be at the Hall of Prophecy at eleven forty five.'
"Tempus!" 13:34
"Fuck!" Harry loudly spat. "I've got to go Luna, I only have two hours left today and I have less than no time."
"I'm coming with you." she said looking him directly in the eye, "And you yourself have said you have no time, so neither do you have time to argue."
"Gah! Double Fuck!" He just grabbed the cherubic girl, forcing their hips together and wrapped the Time‑Turner around their necks.
As they reappeared across the sands of time Harry bolted straight for Minerva McGonagall's office, Luna not far behind. Harry didn't pause as he sent a 'Stupefy' at the Transfiguration Professor and charged directly to her floo connection, bellowing, "Ministry Atrium!" before vanishing in a wash of green flames.
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Climbing toward the Hall of Prophecy with the cheerful bounce of one under the Imperius Curse, Neville Longbottom easily bypassed an unseen William Weasley, shrouded as they were both were beneath invisibility cloaks. At that exact same moment the first Harry Potter was meeting Rufus Scrimgeour for the first time to discuss the upcoming press conference.
Also at the same time the second Harry Potter found himself charging through the weekend staff milling about Ministry of Magic building in London.
It was also at the same instant a man once named Tom Marvolo Riddle, who had since taken on the pseudonym of Lord Voldemort, was concealed from sight using his impressive skill at Invisibility. A branch of magic similar but totally unrelated to the Disillusionment Charm, which allowed one to be utterly concealed from sight without the latter's propensity for a shimmering effect which gave away one's location.
He was making his way through the halls of the first place he had ever thought of as home, a building which was his by right of birth and blood; Hogwarts Castle, formally known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Reclaiming his relic of the Ravenclaw family from the hidden room took the most powerful wizard in the world no effort at all, and sliding his way through the Headmasters Office to claim the famed relic of Godric Griffindor took him scantly more trouble.
The sword he had seen the boy wield through the memory of the first Triwizard Task was exquisite, a masterpiece of goblin magic. From what the waif had told him, he knew that the sword could be summoned using the old Sorting Hat, and so following his plan Voldemort unleashed a controlled burst of Fiendfyre at the artefact before sweeping from the room. Dumbledore would not be distracted long, and facing the old man in his stronghold was not the order of the day.
Voldemort felt one of his Death Eaters summoning him, and decided this brief stay in his old home was to be cut unfortunately short.
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"Weasley!" snapped Harry, closing on the eldest brother. "Get the Order here right now there is going to be an attack."
The man removed his hood and looked startled that he'd been spotted, though Harry in no way intended to share with him how it was scent which alerted Harry to the older man's presence. Luna and he pushed passed by Bill Weasley without checking to see if he complied and headed for a room with a number of blank doors.
"Any ideas Luna?" he abruptly asked.
Pondering, the blonde replied, "My Mum used to work here but I don't know. Maybe if we just ask?"
"I would like the room with the prophecies please!" Harry requested with a shrug. Surprisingly enough the front door locked itself and the gateways span to accommodate his command. "Huh, I can't believe that worked."
Towering shelves of spheres were on all sides and neither knew where they were supposed to go, "Damn it," he swore, they had less than two minutes. Green eyes furiously searched the aisles, thinking as he ran.
"They appear to be sorted by the date they were made..." she mused. "Harry, when was your prophecy first spoken?"
"Er‑, I think it was the middle of nineteen seventy‑nine." he answered, following a few moments of consideration. "Around then at least, maybe." Luna grabbed his hand, and a short time later the two of them came across Neville Longbottom of all people, and he already had his hands on a small spun‑glass orb.
Throwing subtlety aside Harry shot off a 'Stupefy' without second thought and his companion attempted an 'Accio' to get at the prophecy quickly.
Both failed as the boy erected a wobbly 'Protego' shield charm, just as twenty witches and wizards in Death Eater garb stepped into view.
"Fuck. Again!" Brushing off Sirius' favourite spell Harry unloaded a second stunning hex, but this time with what his godfather called a 'Bletchly Twist,' and the bolt of red energy crashed right through both Lucius Malfoy's powerful shield, and Longbottom's indistinct protection. Incidentally dropping him like a stone.
Luna had the presence of mind to use a summoning charm again, grabbing the orb without comment, and Harry turned to the Death Eaters. "What are you idiot's doing here?"
"Potter, give us the prophecy and we will let you go," the light haired aristocrat said with scorn.
Looking over at the man's gloved hand Harry commented, "I'm sure there are many people who would give their left arm to be in your place Lucius. But I do not think you are in a position to negotiate. You are a peon, just another of your master's little toys."
This resulted in a widespread bristling among the cloaked figures, but with their objective being held at wandpoint by Luna, they dared not attack.
"Potter, you‑"
"Call him. I want to make a deal."
"What?"
"I said call your half‑blood sack of snake remains. I have something he wants..." Harry gestured to the object in Luna's hand with a tilt of his head, "and he has something I want. Call him NOW!"
They obeyed.
Proving they were, at the very least, capable of following simple instructions.
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Lord Voldemort swept into a most curious scene.
In a large clearing between stacks in the Hall of Prophecy his Death Eaters were standing with wands drawn on one side of the clearing, and a large crew of the Order of the Phoenix were standing, wands also drawn, on the other side.
Yet nobody was fighting.
Standing with a relaxed and somehow insolent slouch, the boy and a small blonde girl were right in the middle. No man's land. Preventing any fighting from breaking out by shear presence alone.
"Good afternoon." The boy nodded politely, "How has your day been thus far Lord Voldemort?"
Somehow this was asked in a way that was clearly not mocking.
"It has been quite well Harry Potter, although I admit to having expecting the child of Frank Longbottom to have been more successful than it seems he has been."
Some of the Order members were losing their confidence now that the Dark Lord was there in person, and the Death Eaters were similarly given a boost to their morale. They would find out later the reason the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in no way involved was because of a massive attack on Upper Flagley, a small part‑wizarding village in South Yorkshire. With the efforts of the aurors being assisted by Dumbledore, this left the three dozen or so combatants quite alone for a bit of a parley.
"I personally think this thing is a load of crap." The boy said, once more gesturing to the precious orb. "But then again, you might be interested in its contents seeing as I already know what it says."
"I see." Voldemort said, speaking mostly to himself. "Would I be right in assuming you want safe passage out of your current situation?"
"Erm‑, no not really," Potter said, frowning. "I can kill you fairly easily. I think we have established this fact enough times don't you?"
The barely human form of Voldemort was of course about to violently protest at this flippant remark, when the blonde child made it clear that the prophecy would not survive an attack, bringing attention to the menacing glow of her wand tip.
"Then what is it you want Harry Potter. We do not have to be adversaries, I once offered you an honoured place by my side and you turned me down if you recall."
"I was eleven!" Potter exploded. "Of course I was going to turn you down. Your whole 'there is no good and evil only power' speech was never going to work on a kid who still believed in all that garbage."
It was the Dark Lord's turn to think on this statement, and he eventually asked, "So you are offering to join me now?"
"I can't." The boy's response was heavy with a sigh. "When you hear the prophecy you will understand why I can't."
"Then I shall ask one final time. What is it you do want Harry Potter?"
"Bellatrix."
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"Bellatrix." said Harry, thinking how he was getting tired of this pointless back and forth. "I want Bellatrix. You can have the prophecy, I'll even give you safe passage out of here if you so desire it."
Harry watched as the red eyed stare shift to his once most loyal servant. It was clear to anyone watching that the woman really did not want to be where she was standing. Shifting foot to foot, looking monstrously uncomfortable, and attempting to avoid everybody's eyes. Harry had noticed it during the wait, the woman had been throwing occasional glances at him when she believed none of the other Death Eaters were looking.
So when the Dark Lord did not immediately reply Harry went on. "When I say I want her, I mean I want sovereignty over her Dark Mark too. I did quite a bit of research when I got out of Azkaban, and I am confident you have the necessary skill to accomplish this. I want her back but I will not allow you any lingering control over her."
The man was thinking for a long time and Harry could tell the exact moment Voldemort began contemplating how to accomplish the magic necessary to do as he requested. When Harry noticed this he threw in a sweetener. "I would swear an Unbreakable Vow that the prophecy contains a piece of information you do not have, and goes to explain why I didn't die in nineteen eighty‑one."
"Agreed." Voldemort said as he staked over to Bellatrix and pulled violently on her emaciated left arm. As he waved his yew and phoenix wand, Harry heard a soft chanting which he believed to be a mixture of spells mostly in parsel, although he could not hear it clearly enough to understand the precise incantations.
Three tense minutes later Bellatrix let out a loud "squee" and ran over like an overly enthusiastic little girl, jumped into a smiling Harry's arms and finding herself lifted into a piggyback.
"Let me see Bella." he asked, and the woman showed him her left arm. The skull and snake of the Dark Mark ripped before their eyes at the initial skin contact between Harry and Bellatrix, after a few moments the tattoo's soul magic shifted and her forearm was now embossed with a tiny Griffon, impeccably detailed in all of its rampant glory.
At the sight Harry smiled and near silently whispered, "Target Rodolphus" to his new companion, and then more loudly ordered Luna to toss over the prophecy, keeping his word to the very letter.
"Now!" Harry shouted as the spun‑glass ball was still in the air, and the two unleashed the pleasing green of the Killing Curse a fraction of a second before Luna added her own.
Both Harry and Bella's bellowed "Avada Kedavra!" smacked uselessly against a professionally conjured transhield, but just as Redolphus Lestrange began charging his own curse with a smirk, the cherubic blonde got him in the toe of his right foot, and the hateful rapist fell, dead away with his final smirk still gracing his lips.
Much cleaner than divorce.
The thought lanced right through Harry's mind before he could stop the callous notion from presenting itself, and he was forced to intone: "Imprimis Patrocinor!" The military grade magical armour wrapped his blonde friend an instant before she got fried by what Harry would tentatively describe as Devil's Fire, sent forth by the Dark Lord now he had the prophecy safely grasped in his off hand.
The thick blue shield of magic coalesced in front of Luna Lovegood and effortlessly took the powerful spell.
Bedlam broke out as Harry piggybacked his friend, attempting to get out of the centre of a fire fight. Seeing as he had already been stunned, out of action and without so much as a chance, one of the Death Eaters took the opportunity to slice poor Longbottom in half with a butchering curse.
The Order of the Phoenix paired off with one another, doing their best not to get overwhelmed by the superior numbers, and Harry realised that with Voldemort himself in the room, pretty much all of them were going to die.
"Fuck for a third time! Bella get down and keep the Death Eaters distracted if you can. Do not get hurt!" Wasting no time he whispered 'Sonorus' and bellowed, "Everyone! On the count of three ignore defence and volley on Voldemort with your best hex!"
"THREE!"
A number of Killing Curses, flame spells, Dragonfyre, and assorted dubious magics all combined on a single position, smashing through a triple shield; a sandwiched solid barrier between two strong mage shields.
Bloody hell, there is no way anyone could cast such balls difficult spells like that so fast!
This thought battered his mind as Harry watched the thing degrade regardless at the huge volley of hexes. Sixteen powerful spells, cast with frantic desperation were enough to once again dispatch the Dark Lord, and Harry had the sneaking suspicion it was Luna's 'Avada Kedavra' which had actually gotten through.
The victory was not without cost however. Letting go of all pretence of defence had allowed the cloaked figures to land a fair few curses of their own and more than just Sirius' cousin was down, with the purple haired girl spewing up what was almost certainly her own intestines.
Harry sent Bellatrix over to save the girl and linked up with his blonde friend once again in an attempt to harass their retreating foes. Spying Mad‑Eye Moody getting close and personal with one of the masked figures, Harry looped a slashing spiral and as he jabbed letting out a whispered:
"Pupugi!"
Firing into the melee being something which Sirius was forever telling him not to do for some reason. At the last instant the one legged man ducked to the floor and the high level piercing curse took his opponent in the shoulder.
With a grin and a mocking bow Harry moved off, extracting his friends from the fighting.
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By that evening the dust had for the most part cleared.
Bellatrix was in the Harry Potter Wing of Hogwarts dosed with dreamless sleep potion and being treated by Poppy Pomfrey, who was visibly surprised that Harry himself did not need treatment. Bella was in pretty bad shape, most of it was from her long incarceration at Azkaban Prison and the Dementors. Most of it, but not everything, part of the damage seeming somewhat ethereal. It took a little bit of convincing for her to get any treatment at all seeing as Harry was pretty much her only advocate, and it was her altered Dark Mark which finally persuaded Albus to allow her to stay in the castle.
Dumbledore was not entirely pleased with Harry as it turned out. Apparently holding the country to ransom was not a suitably heroic thing to do from his perspective, but with his actions at the Hall of Prophecy having succeeded in killing Voldemort again, and most likely saving many of the Order's lives, the old man was in a forgiving mood.
A handful of phoenixes had actually died of their injuries, though Harry was quite pleased that Tonksy was not one of them. Harry rubbed his sternum at the memory of her breaking it during the summer, back when he was sternly refusing to call her anything but her hated first name.
Only three Death Eaters lost their lives in the fighting, Redolphus Lestrange being the only one from the Inner Circle, and the rest had taken the body of their lord with them when they retreated. The absence of the Sword of Griffindor as well as the destruction of the Sorting Hat had been noted, and a large number of howlers had been prevented from reaching Harry, but other than those relatively minor problems the day had ended without further drama.
It was early Sunday morning when Harry decided to take a stroll down to Hogsmeade for no other reason than to relax for a while and get out of the castle...
...when a bright bolt of red light impacted his back and everything went dark.
He awoke several hours later and wondered just how many times one person can get kidnapped in a single lifetime before he reached his maximum quota.
Harry Potter found himself looking down a familiar length of holly, one he knew to be exactly eleven inches in length, and containing a single feather once belonging to a phoenix named Fawkes. Things really could have been going better, but then again, this was pretty standard as far as his life went, par for the course and all that jazz. What was being tied to a chair with his own Ollivander wand pointed at him, when stacked up to all the other enjoyable goings on that had happened over the past few years, hell the whole of his life?
"..."
"We don't have time for another flashback Harry."
"Sorry Gin. For a moment there I had a little déjà vu."