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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity
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Aftermath: 33% Professionalism
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Harry woke with such a monster headache it wasn't even fair. He refused to open his eyes, instead opting for a completely understandable, pitiable groan. "He's awake." A voice of pure evil—hellspeak, the kind which makes one's bones and mind hurt merely hearing—spoke loud in a clipped English accent of one raised by the middle class.
"Die screaming 'Mione," he managed, barely comprehensible.
Perhaps he'd been drinking again?
He didn't know.
Maybe he'd taken an axe to the head or something, or could conceivably convince someone to find him an axe, and use it to end the madness. There were lots more examples of the language spoke only by the damned, but Harry still refused to open his eyes, or attempt to comprehend what was being said.
"Eh-knee chance... Pain... 'otion?"
"Tamsyn is dead you fool," Hermione shrieked at him, notching the headache up just a little further. "A little bit of pain hardly compares to that now does it!"
Ah, at least that explains why she was so grumpy. Harry opened his eyes and grasped a small purple potion, with a swirly wash and terrible taste the agony wreaking havoc throughout his skull began to fade. He rolled over, ignoring the still damp bloodstains soaking his clothes, and crawled toward Tam's still form. With a hand to her thin pale neck Harry discovered a lack of heartbeat.
"Yup, dead," he said simply.
"You do not seem all that broken up about it 'Arry," Fleur observed, her tone a touch cold. Disapproving.
"Her deeds and legacy will live on..." Harry told the room grandly, even though he was lying a pool of his own blood. "Like the sweet sounds of parsel whispering on the wind..." Hermione looked like she was going to murder him for this cavalier attitude, but Harry kept waxing poetic. "Always know that she will be with us all, in our hearts and minds forever—"
§For the love of Merlin please just tell them I am still alive!§ Nagini-possessed Tam hissed in annoyance. When Harry kept on spewing meaningless drivel the huge viper slithered onto the table and made an aggressive move, predatory and threatening to bite. §Now!§
§Fine. You ruin all my fun.§
§How did you know?§
§Know what?§
§That it would work. That you would win, and that I would come rescue you.§
The room was looking with various states of incomprehension at Harry and Nagini conversing in Parseltongue. Hermione worked out what must have happened first and voiced her suspicion to the air. "Nagini is Tam? Wait, Tam has a shade form? What the hell."
"You are correct, Hermione..." Harry turned to her with a smile. "My hunch was that defeating Voldemort in my head—with the help of another part of his soul—would transform Tam into the primary soul fragment. Thereby making me Tam's Horcrux."
"So, no more changeovers?" asked Sirius.
"No more changeovers," agreed Harry.
Everyone looked at each other for a while, thinking through this latest and most ridiculous impossibility, all the while none of them able to understand the incensed spitting of the large green snake on the table.
§What do you mean hunch?§ Tam hissed. Seeing Harry just smile benignly and refuse to answer she tried again. §What do you mean Harry? Hunch? You were scamming me weren't you!§
"Come on, let's rebirth dear Tamsyn."
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In the Ritual Room on Caerbannog a small group gathered around one of those 'boil a missionary' cauldrons, Tam busy possessing a conjured grass snake, fearful of harming her familiar by spending too much time in the viper's body. Hermione was unaware Caerbannog even had a Ritual Room, but was holding herself back from commenting. The shock of her girlfriend's death, and then not death had rendered her a little shaken.
Harry cracked open a small can, similar in appearance to one normally filled with a muggle fizzy drink, and began emptying a murky brown-purple potion into the cauldron. The can was clearly bigger on the inside because the liquid kept on flowing until the massive thing was filled almost to the brim. Tam always kept a few of these Rebirth Potions stocked for 'Harry dying emergencies,' so they wouldn't have to brew from scratch every time.
"We're going to have to tweak the formula a little because the ingredients are slightly different," Harry mused aloud.
§I know, I know,§ hissed the cantankerous snake, impatient and worlds of annoyed. §A couple extra Eye of Newt and toss in some Runespoor Skin on the second stirring cycle.§
Everyone looked sort of bemused as Harry simply set about heating, and stirring, and preparing.
"Alright, here we go," the teen spoke after a long while. "Bone of the forerunner unknowingly given. Voldemort's pelvis, taken from his corpse after Hermione killed him."
"Why the pelvis Harry?" asked Hermione with a shake of the head.
"It amuses me."
"Flesh of a servant willing shared..." Harry began, waving over to his brunette friend. "This is why we had to tweak the potion, you're up Hermione."
"What?"
"If you do it, it should cancel the Blood Protection, and you two can get back to..." Harry didn't get to finish, as a sliver of her skin was dropped into the potion, enthusiastic and without a moment's hesitation.
"And blood of an enemy forcibly taken..." Harry said to the air. "Shit! I forgot to capture a Death Eater."
§Oh just use your own blood you idiot,§ commanded Tam from the floor. §Zap the potion with the Resurrection Stone to make up the difference... Same as for Hermione not really being a servant.§
§I'm your enemy?§ asked Harry in puzzlement.
§I am going to strangle you as soon as I get a body back. So yes!§
§Think you can take me Riddle?§ he taunted. "Bella, I need you to forcibly take some of my blood, so I'm going to have to fight back."
The potion fizzed a burning red colour so bright it hurt the eyes, while Harry and Bellatrix got into a smackdown. Even with the leeway offered by the Resurrection Stone they only had around a five minute window to get all the ingredients into the cauldron. He flailed and kicked as best he could to prevent her from doing so, but it took Bellatrix a mere ninety seconds to slash open a cut on Harry's arm.
Casually tossing in the conjured dagger covered in Harry's blood, Bella went back to watching, and after a steady build the potion flared a blinding white. It got zapped by the Resurrection Stone, turning a pale green. Finally Harry threw the tiny grass snake into the mess, simply assuming everything would work out fine.
As he did so he got the distinct impression most Dark Rituals were not performed in such a shoddy and audacious manner.
Harry shamelessly raked his eyes over Tam's smooth ivory skin, taking in her long firm legs, curves, and lines. Then he got to the face, and the scowl, and the knuckles as they met his jaw.
The girl couldn't half punch like a heavyweight.
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Despite nigh crippling levels of blood loss Harry managed to get in a few hits of his own, but as was inevitable, the naked redhead kicked the living shit out of him. It took Bellatrix and Dumbledore to restrain her long enough for Harry to recover and return to his feet.
"It worked, stop being a whiny little bitch," Harry told her, headache returning full strength.
"What happened—?" Lily asked, not really knowing what was going on, standing between Harry and the murderous proto-Dark Lord. "Why is she attacking you?"
"Your son is a manipulative fucking bastard," Tam swore vengefully. "That is what happened."
"Would you have gone for it had I asked?" Harry retorted. "Hey Tam, I want you to put your soul, your very existence on the line, based on nothing but a hunch and good intentions?" She was about to open her mouth but he interrupted. "—No, you wouldn't have. It would have seemed too risky, and you'd have made me come up with another way. Like building him a prison or something less permanent, and that we both knew he'd eventually escape."
"I don't understand what is going on either," Hermione put in.
Harry took the offered healing potion and warily found a seat across the room, far from the still pissed off Riddle girl.
"The reason I wanted Voldemort captured, was so I could basically... eat his soul," Harry started. "I like being a Horcrux. It's cool not having to worry about liver damage, or an assassin killing me due to lack of vigilance." He sighed. "But I do not like worrying about changeovers, or having a Dark Lord constantly making trouble for me. So I came up with an idea, I wanted my good friend Tamsyn to be the one I was connected to..."
"He wanted me, Voldemort, and himself all inside his body at the same time..." Tam took up the explanation, having obviously deduced most of it during the brief wait before rebirth. "It should have just been screaming and willpower, but we got into a kind of imaginary sword fight, it was... a singularly odd experience. Anyway, we destroy Voldemort's soul, and absorb maybe a little of what makes him... you know him."
"But Tam would not have gone through with it had I asked," Harry admitted. "So I set up a situation where she'd have to make a snap decision on whether or not to risk her existence to save me."
"And I acted the bloody hero," Tam said, hanging her head in dismay. "Being around you guys is bad for my health!"
The room was quiet, absorbing this for the longest time. After a while Albus asked an obvious question. "How did you know it would work?"
"He didn't!" the redhead exploded.
"Did so," Harry lied obviously. "Fine, I was about fifty-one percent sure it would work. My projections said so."
For some reason they were all glaring at him. Especially Tam.
"Suck it up, you're immortal now. Happy fucking birthday. No more Thanatophobia."
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Hermione shuffled her feet. This was all incredibly fascinating of course, and it had been an ever so long day. Duelling Voldemort, having all those people call her "the greatest witch of the age," the aftermath. And then Harry attempting to vanquish the Dark Lord for good using a strange Chinese meal.
But none of that was the most important thing.
No, they were in this, until recently unknown Ritual Room on Harry's floating home, and there was no longer any pressing need to do anything. The day was over, and any glares or recriminations could obviously wait until another time.
And well, Tam was all naked and sweaty. And they could touch again. After weeks and weeks... and weeks and weeks, of not being able to get touched by Tam.
Okay, so maybe her thoughts were running a little wild, but that was clearly the important part about this wasn't it? It had been weeks. Weeks!
"Oh for heaven sake," blurted Harry. "We can talk about this tomorrow? Hermione looks like she's about to explode."
Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Hermione blushed, but refused to lower her gaze as her girlfriend turned big brown eyes on her. Tam was just looking at her for a while without expression, and she blushed a little harder.
"You are absolutely correct Harry," she said. Carefully making her way over to Hermione, Tam lightly brushed the smallest finger of her left hand against the brunette's cheek. Noting the lack of screaming or fire, she concluded the Blood Protection had been blessedly neutralised. "Goodnight all."
Then Hermione was lifted off her feet and over Tam's surprisingly strong shoulders.
Without another word the two women left the room.
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"What do you say?"
Sitting down to breakfast the next day, Harry was snacking on a light repast. It was tasteless, and what flavour there was to be had was all cardboard and ashes. Attempting to keep such distaste from showing Harry chatted with Tonks and his mother, kicking back and distracting himself.
There was no sign of Tam and Hermione.
Putting down his fork and glaring with mistrust at the mostly untouched meal, Harry replied to Tonks' statement, "A galleon for late this afternoon?"
"Too rich for you?" replied the metamorphmagus.
"Not a chance in hell. Fifty quid says those two won't make it out until next morning at the earliest." Cocking an eyebrow he wheedled, "What about you mother dearest?"
"No bet." Lily had the London Times' crossword open in front of her, keeping out of the discussion, though a look of concern occasionally flittered across her brow. "Why aren't you eating?"
"Bland and unpleasant," he stated. "Wish I could blame the house‑elf."
Slapping the newspaper down—'MASSIVE TERRORIST ATTACK' featuring prominently on the headline—she asked, "What's wrong with your food?"
"Nothing. I took a spiritual mauling last night, battling Voldemort's soul. All the colours are washed out and my food tastes like it's already been eaten."
"Spiritual damage?" Tonds said, confused.
"Tam was telling me about it a couple days ago. Warning of the possibility anyways." Harry went on. "Same thing happens when a loved one dies, or you are forced to move home unexpectedly. Breaking off a committed relationship. That type of thing."
"And that makes food taste bland?"
"When it's this bad, yeah. Food is flavourless, kissing less fun, and music greys out lacking much emotional response... life just isn't as enjoyable," Harry said. "You know that thing about vampires being unable to see their reflection? Same thing. 'Cos they're soulless. I guess if I looked into a shiny surface right now, my mirror image would seem kind of wispy."
"Wow, really?" said Lily. "Weird."
"That's soul magic for you."
"Hmm..." Tonks seemed to ponder something. "If sex is less fun, why are you betting the two lovebirds are going to be occupied until next sunrise? Surely Riddle is just as 'soul injured' as you?"
"Yup. But I'm basing my wager off of her personality and egotism." Harry grinned. "Even if right now it's more an athletic and technical exercise for her, Tam's not gonna stop until her beau is in a sex-coma."
"Besides..." Lily said, musing in high percentage speculation. "Those kinds of things, music and kissing, they are all 'good for the soul.' Correct?"
"Right in one," said Harry. "I should visit an art gallery or something today. Help my spiritual essence grow back faster."
"Wait," Tonks held up a hand. "Souls grow back?"
"Hey you guys..." Bellatrix's greeting interrupted the conversation. She strolled into the breakfast area with little Rose bouncing on one hip. "The Dark Mark on my arm has changed."
"Really?" Harry grinned. "Soul magic! What's it changed into?"
"It looks like a bunny rabbit crossed with a spanner for some reason." Bella rolled up her left sleeve and showed them. There it was, the greatest of apex predators and a tool the Yanks call a wrench. "I like it."
"Yeah, me too," Harry agreed. "It has something... a grandness to it maybe."
The room was beginning to fill up as Harry set about feeding his daughter. The little one never cried when he was there, and as the one person who actually had any experience in the matter, Lily's opinion was the only that mattered. And according to her it was the weirdest thing ever.
All in all it was quite a domestic scene. Peasant, even pacific.
So inevitably, and not two minutes later, Sirius shambled through the door looking a little hungover.
"Scrimgeour wants to talk to you," he said, eyes wide at the newspaper's terrorism headline.
"Tell him I'm currently engaged in matters of grave magnitude, and I'll get back to him." Padfoot didn't respond, and without turning from his toothpaste orange juice Harry finished. "You brought the Mirror into the room during a mealtime didn't you?"
It really wasn't a question, and Sirius should have known better than to fly in the face of policy.
"Good morning Minister," Harry greeted his Mirror, with a beaming smile he knew Scrimgeour hated more than any other. "What may I do for you today?"
"Is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named dead for good this time?" The man stated his question bluntly, not wanting to get bogged down in any of Harry Potter's shenanigans.
"Yes."
He moved to hand the Mirror back to his godfather when Scrimgeour interrupted. "The Death Eaters still control of both Hogwarts and the Ministry building, what are you planning on doing to combat them?"
"Me? Plan?" asked Harry in confusion, returning to the communication device. "What are you talking about?"
"You are contracted to fight the Death Eaters."
"Who is in charge, do you know?" asked Harry, rubbing his suddenly aching temples.
"Our sources suggest Draco Malfoy is currently in command."
"Well there you go. None of my business."
Scrimgeour too was visibly fighting back a headache, Harry could tell, he knew the signs well enough. "The Death Eate—"
"These aren't Death Eaters," Harry interrupted. "If Malfoy is in charge, you are fighting The Earl of the North, and his Black Guard. A totally different Dark Lord and a completely different set of minions... If you want to contract me again, I'll be willing to negotiate."
"For Merlin's sake Potter!" spat Scrimgeour, having heard the title Earl of the North and been hoping Harry hadn't. Ah, the wonders of a time travelling friend and completely unpredictable future knowledge. "What do you want?"
The one true saviour of the world gave the sitting Minister of Magic for Great Britain a 'big friendly smile.'
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Harry won his galleon from Tonks of course. It was the next morning, if only just, Tam flopping down in the main room with visible signs of exhaustion... at eleven fifty-eight am. She was looking good, and Harry told her as much, causing her to unleash a 'big friendly smile' he'd bet, never in his entire life, had Voldemort sported across his visage.
"No Hermione?" he asked wryly.
"Sleeping soundly," she answered with the pride of a job well done.
Easy money.
Some of the thoughts and ideas he'd been running through over the past couple of days made themselves known, but Harry was content to just sit in a companionable silence for a while. The war was over, no more idiotic prophecy, no more Dark Lord, no more Azkaban Prison. Freedom from all his responsibilities. Not that Harry really took many of his responsibilities all that seriously, but it was the thought that counted.
"Did we perform some huge terrorist attack on Britain the other night?" asked Tam, interrupting his chain of thought.
"Erm—, not that I know of?" replied Harry
"It was all over the news."
"Sirius and my mother mentioned something about it. Muggles killing muggles right? What's that got to do with us?""
"Uhuh," said the redhead sceptically. "The outskirts of Upper Flagley, Montrose, and Ottery St. Catchpole, were apparently all struck by ICBMs—that's intercontinental ballistic missiles to you and me—in addition to two other locations the newspaper didn't specify." Tam paused, perhaps giving him the opportunity to admit something. "Kind of seems like it might have been us."
"Coincidence?"
"Uhuh."
"Ottery St. Catchpole..." said Harry. "Isn't that where Luna's dad lives. And didn't little Ginny Weasley grow up there...? Pretty sure I visited once."
"The others are all part-wizarding villages too."
"Probably coincidence?" he repeated. "Not everything that happens is us you know. Besides, I was busy the night before last." Harry gave his brother time to finish her breakfast fruit and was in the middle of drinking down a big jug of pineapple juice, when Harry was brought back to his original thought chain. "So we are going to live forever now?"
"Not quite," Tam told him. She'd been reflecting on the state her girlfriend had been left in, tangled in sweat-matted enervation, and nothing seemed to be shifting that smile anytime soon.
"But the Horcrux? If you die I can revive you..." Harry frowned. "And if I die, you can revive me."
"The Horcrux ritual allows one to survive the death of their body, but if the person were to die of old age, the other piece of soul would die too."
"So if you die of old age, my scar vanishes?"
"Yeah," Tam confirmed. "This is why Voldemort had no reproductive organs, nor the drive of sexuality. That was the sacrifice for a counterpoint ritual which rendered his body ageless."
"So Voldemort could survive death, and didn't age?" Harry repeated. "I can't imagine you making that kind of sacrifice..."
"Yeah well, Hermione wasn't at Hogwarts during the forties was she?" Tam said with that same serene smile. "Friggin' spitfire that girl. I can tell you Voldemort wouldn't have gone to those lengths either if she'd been around."
"How romantic."
"Fuck you."
"Only if Hermione watches."
"Gah!" The redhead shuddered. "I'm still a guy remember!"
"Not according to your mindscape self."
"Look, I see myself in this body, but I am still a male..." Tam told him slowly and precisely. "I don't see how you are finding this so hard to accept. It's straightforward enough, and you seem to take everything else in stride."
"You're a girl, ner ner ne ner ner!" Harry taunted.
A thought struck the redhead and she pointedly asked, "Are you saying girls are inherently inferior to boys?"
"Why of course," Harry said simply. Knowing the two were not alone in the room, and that more than one of the people on board the airship might have a problem with such a statement. "Forgetting for a moment the trump club that is arithmanc proficiency, it's not as though I have any competent females in my life."
Lily, who had been listening in on this conversation, began scowling. Harry pretended not to notice.
"I see," said Tam, not missing the fact Harry was just fucking with his mother. "I suppose that makes a kind of sense."
The two began digging themselves into a nice big hole as the conversation delved deeper and deeper into a bunch of misogynistic bullshit, sure to rile up any real female within earshot. When Lily eventually bolted from the room in an indescribable rage, the two just shared a mischievous smile.
"Yeah, my girlfriend won the Triwizard Tournament."
"And mine is Albus Dumbledore's apprentice."
"And in her own way Luna is just as scary as Bellatrix."
"And don't forget your mother twice defeated Voldemort at his full power."
They both started laughing. It was going to be fun dealing with whatever the girls of Caerbannog were going to come up with to make them pay. Always play the long game, that way nobody will be able to keep up.
"Oh shit I forgot," Harry said after a while. "We have another job to do."
"Hmm?"
"I took a contract to defeat Draco Malfoy, retake Hogwarts, an end the war," Harry told her. "And I said you and I would do it alone."
Tam frowned. "What did you ask for in return?"
"Well I didn't want to interrupt while you were, y'know... busy," he began. "So for your help I just got cash."
"Fair enough."
"I made Scrimgeour agree to deal with the Goblins, and alter a treaty to basically get me in the clear with Griphook and his guys..." Tam was about to remind him about naming all the Goblins the same was one of the things which pissed them off about him, but thought better of it. "—and the Minister also has to convince Liz to make Caravel Caerbannong a Province of Great Britain."
"Like Monaco or the Flamel Estate?" asked Tam.
"Yeah."
She mulled it over in the head for a while. "That is actually a pretty good idea. We would have a level of autonomy even when you do not have the Ministry by the balls thanks to the prophecy."
"That's what I was thinking."
Right then a group of incensed witches stormed into the main room, looking at the two with thunderous expressions. Hiding their amused smiles the brothers both thought:
This was going to be fun.
Something to uplift the spirit...? Perhaps... Before winning this next war too.