Title: The Herald of Truth
Pairing: DM/HP, RW/HG... so far
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
DISCLAIMER: Me? Own Harry Potter? Laughs hysterically, tears pouring forth from eyes Oh gods! Ahahahahahahahaha! If you don't get it, that's a no. I don't own Harry Potter. I only own the plot and any characters you don't recognize.
Summary: It's the middle of the war and the casualties are amazingly high on both sides. There isn't a reason to laugh or be happy anymore. But suddenly, the Secrets of Hogwarts are being revealed one by one. Everyone is paranoid and everything is in disarray. Who's doing it? What are they trying to accomplish and who's next? SLASH. R/R
yah de yah Parseltongue
Blah Flashback
Chapter Seven: The Gold Scroll
Anyone who walked into the Great Hall that morning, could tell that there were students who discovered that this mixing with other houses very satisfying and that others were doing anything in their power to resist against it. It was those others that would bring upon the hall the final wrath of the Herald.
And that wrath, which had been in the making since the firming of the resolve to unite and was bigger than this whole event would be the final card that ever needed to be played.
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
Draco had been following Hedwig for 3 hours now and in that 3 hours, he had gone through every stage of boredom there was. During the first, he had bitched and moaned about Harry's utter Gryffindorish behavior. During the second hour, he had bitched and moaned about the utter primitiveness of the outdoors and how his hair would never be the same and how if he came out of this with a tan, he would hex the git for his utter stupidity. Now, in this past hour, he was bitching and moaning about how utterly boring this hunt was. Weren't there supposed to be attackers? Weren't there supposed to be dangerous creatures? And then it hit him.
"Hedwig?" he queried in a sweet voice that wasn't fooling the intelligent animal one bit. Yet, she stopped and swooped down onto his shoulder all the same, cocking her head to the side as she waited for him to voice his question. "Are you, by any chance, taking the safe route?" The bird cocked her head to the other side and Draco swore he saw mirth in those eyes. Before he could interpret that, the bird was in the air again.
"Ruddy bird," Draco expostulated., kicking a rock moodily.
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
Harry walked up yet another set of stairs.
"How many staircases are in this ruddy castle," he asked himself stopping to take a breather. "And why the hell have I not seen anyone since I escaped? And why the hell is this place so dirty?" He wiped his finger along a railing, sneering at the grime that was now on his finger tips. Really, if you were going to put your home base in a castle, the least you could do was make it a pleasant looking if slightly sinister castle. What else were house elves for? Realizing what he was doing, he mentally checked himself. God, but Draco had rubbed off on him.
He continued walking through the castle, entertaining ideas of introducing Martha Stewart to Voldemort and seeing who finished off who first.
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
"First, I'm going to save him. Then, I'm going to castrate him and then I'm going to skin him. After that, I'll kill him. Or maybe I'll kill him, raise him from the dead, and then skin him…" Draco muttered to himself still following Hedwig. "I hate you for this, Potter. I really really do." In the next second, however, Hedwig was gone and all that was left was an eerie silence. Draco was at a loss for where she could have gone so quickly.
"Hedwig," he called softly. There was a pained hoot in answer and then a wet snapping sound. Draco swallowed the bile that raised up suddenly with difficulty. A twig snapped behind him and he whirled around, wand out and pointed before he even registered the motion himself.
"Now, Draco," the figure drawled and he paled. "Is that any way to treat your father?"
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
The Great Hall stared at the shimmering gauze like scroll in front of them. This one was undoubtedly different from the others that had come into the hall. This one had not arrived by owl or by a belligerent messenger, but had blown in on a gentle wind.
I didn't want it to come to this…and I hope to the gods that I am forgiven for what I am about to do…
Harry Potter
Seventh Year Gryffindor
Loves to fly
Secretly desires to be a normal average wizard
It wasn't a smiling picture that flashed on to the screen. The Harry Potter here looked as if he was fighting and failing to hold back tears. Everyone stared at the screen now. Some with anticipation and others with horror. Others mocked the picture being presented to them whispering things like "What's Potter got to cry about? His parents are already dead" or "Figures Potter would be a crybaby."
I can't believe there are those among you who would be callous and unfeeling enough to mock the person who will die for you.
No one missed the implication of that sentence. There were no ifs and buts. Only certainty as if it were a prophecy. Anyone about to make a smartass comment was instantly shut up.
It's amazing that he cares so much about the good of the people when there practically isn't any good of the people left. Did you know he used to live in a cupboard? Yes, the rumors are true. He was never treated like a king, didn't live in a mansion, and didn't have servants catering to his every whim. He was bloodied, abused, and thrown into a cupboard to live as if he were some kind of defunct troglodyte.
None wanted to believe this, but the pictures on the screen were more than enough proof.
He didn't know about Voldemort or how his parents died until he was eleven. Every year that he's been here, he's been chased by Voldemort and his lackeys and every summer following that, he's forced to spend time at a muggle residence where he is chained and tortured. What a wonderful life Harry Potter leads, right?
The pictures on the screen had progressively been becoming worse and worse. Potter chained to his bed, Potter sporting a black eye and vicious cuts all down his arms and legs, and Potter strapped down to his bed as they whipped him over and over again, but never made a sound.
And then he comes to school hoping to get away from it all, only to be met with taunts and accusations. He is ridiculed for something that he can not prevent by himself. Despite expectations, he is one person. You call yourselves wizards and witches. What good is the power granted us if we do not use it and if we expect one boy to take on the burdens of many?
The pictures that were now being shown were not too much of an unusual sight. Everyone had seen Potter crying when the scroll had started, but had not paid it too much attention. Now, looking at this close up, they were able to see the pain and torment in those jaded emerald eyes and they realized that they were partly to blame.
The Hall gasped when Harry Potter held a knife to his arm and viciously pulled it across his flesh. Blood bloomed almost instantly. He stared at his arm in rapture for a few minutes before whispering a healing charm.
"Save the wizarding world first, Harry. It's not their fault. Just Voldemort. Just Voldemort."
The Hall stared on amazed and not a little bit horrified as Harry re-affirmed his promise to kill (in spite of their cruelness to him) Voldemort, but this time in blood. At this point they were feeling rather… shitty. This is possibly because they were; shitty that is.
The scenes of Harry's past and present continued to flash onto the screen in a smooth mix reminiscent of one's worst nightmare. The hall watched and with every second that passed, their egos deflated more and more.
How could someone so selfless exist? How had they lucked out when Harry was born? More than half of Hogwarts had been in tears when the Dursley abuse was shown, but by the time it had gotten to Voldemort's tortures even the staff could not take anymore. Merlin, what had they done?
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
The duel had been going on for a little over an hour but both participants were showing no signs of fatigue or duress.
"Well, Draco, it seems as if you have learnt something at that precious light school of yours, but it's not en-"
"Tortugeo!" Draco shouted and immediately Lucius was on the ground withering in pain.
"Father, dearest," Draco sneered as he circled his father's prone figure on the ground. "Your
greatest shortcoming has always been the fact that you do not know how to shut up. Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."
Lucius merely continued to whither on the ground.
"No answer? Come now. You're usually so longwinded. Draco laughed evilly. By now Lucius had been under the curse for close to 10 minutes. "Did you know one of the effects of this curse is that if you are kept continuously under it for more than 15 minutes, your blood starts to boil. Sounds a bit unpleasant, don't you think." Draco asked conversationally.
Lucius looked at him with wide wild eyes and finally, he screamed. He screamed like a drowning man. Smirking, Draco cancelled the spell. The lone figure of Lucius twitching there was somehow more satisfying then if he had simply killed the man. He transfigured a twig into a jar and then Lucius into a beetle placing him in it. Before he could feel accomplished satisfaction, however, he heard a scream. What bothered him most about it was that it sounded like Harry. He began moving as quickly as possible in the right direction.
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
He hadn't known what to expect when he had first escaped and began to search this fortress for Voldemort, but it wasn't this. There sitting in the middle of the room was a baby boy who couldn't have been more than 2 years old. The room was decorated to be a nursery, that was for sure, but what could Voldemort possibly be doing with a child.
"I see you've met my heir." Harry's head whipped around quickly at the sound of Voldemort's voice. He was a little baffled as to why his scar hadn't erupted into pain, but he appreciated the moment of lucidity.
"Confused?" Voldemort continued, conversationally. "The child isn't more than a year. Just the age you were when I took your parents." Voldemort laughed cruelly at this, which really pissed Harry off, but he decided to contain it.
"Why do you need him? Is he even yours?" Harry said getting past the shock as best he could.
"Everybody needs an heir," Voldemort said calculatingly and as for the 'is he mine'? Take a gander at his left forearm." Harry took a few tentative steps towards the middle of the room, making sure that his back was never turned on Voldemort. The child looked up at him and gurgled happily, raising its arms to be lifted and then that's when Harry caught sight of the dark mark, burned into this infant's innocent flesh.
It sickened him to see the dark mark on one so young. On a baby. This soul wasn't given a chance. He would defeat Voldemort. So lost was he in his thoughts, that he did not notice Voldemort was speaking. Had he been listening, he would have learnt something very important about this particular child. He interrupted Voldemort's long spiel.
"This will end today, Voldemort. It is either my life or yours."
"Is that so, Potter?" Harry merely nodded , eyes dark with steely determination. "Well, then. By all means. To the courtyard?" Voldemort said it as if he were offering a guest tea, but Harry was anything but the regular guest and tea was anything but an option.
"To the courtyard," Harry agreed.
It had taken mere minutes to get down to the courtyard, but to Harry it seemed as if forever and a day had passed by… twice. When they had left the room, his scar had burst into pain, blood dripping steadily down his head. He realized there must have been some kind of wards up in the nursery. Now, however, wasn't the time to think of such things. He faced Voldemort, wand in hand. This was the end for one of them and Harry was determined to make that one Voldemort.
The duel began and Voldemort started off with an amplified form of Crucio which wrenched a cry from Harry. He screamed, but it was not in agony. It was in rage. He burst into a green and black flame, taking Voldemort by surprise.
Crouching on the ground was the avenging angel of death and Voldemort was scared.
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
The scroll hadn't stopped its torture of their consciences yet. Instead, the picture had changed. On the scroll screen now was an image of Draco Malfoy, sneering at the hall and, possibly, the world at large.
Draco Malfoy
Seventh Year Slytherin
Secretly desires a world without Voldemort
The whole hall gasped.
Draco Malfoy, the ice prince of Slytherin and dead sexy stud of Hogwarts is not all he is cracked up to be. In fact, Draco is constantly abused by his nut of a father and not just verbally.
The ice prince picture melted into that of a bruised and beaten Draco. Lucius Malfoy stood off to the side.
"I'm only teaching a lesson that must be learnt, Draco. The Dark Lord will not stand for such impudence and will not be nearly as patient as I." Draco spit blood out onto the floor.
"That's actually believing I would join his service."
"Crucio."
Draco's screams filled the hall. The scene disappeared in a swirl of colors.
It seems that all of you have been severely misinformed when it comes to your classmates. You let harsh prejudices dictate your life decisions when all of you have so much in common. It's tragic. Where do you run when you have sunken too low? Who is your only source of hope?
This has been a secret for almost half a yea, but no longer.
The pictures of Draco and Harry in pristine condition were back, but now closer together.
Draco and Harry have been dating for half a year. A scene of Harry and Draco kissing passionately.
Where are they now? Fighting Voldemort.
And there was Harry in all of his green and black flamed glory dueling with the evil that they had accused him of aiding. They were so ashamed. The hall erupted into noise, but firm resolve made it organized. Students and staff stood and left. First through third years were safely sequestered in their house towers with house elves to aid them in anything that was needed.
Aurors were called and as one student, staff, and Aurors entered the Forbidden Forest ready to provide any back-up necessary for their savior. If they had stayed just a while longer, they probably would have discovered the most important secret of all. The secret of who was behind the scrolls.
!THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT.THOT!
Author's Note:
Um, hi! Watsuppity? I know. I know. I took a really long time to get this out and it's nothing special. I'm not going to make any excuses to you, but the epilogue will be out in a week or less. I can promise that. And there will probably be a poll too. Hee - 3 It's been a great adventure and I can't believe I'm almost done with it. It'll be the first fic I've ever finished I think. Alritey then. You know the drill. Read. Enjoy. Review.
Reviewer Responses:
Dracoroxmysox: As you can see. Everything is okay...well, for now.
Enchantress of the Dark: I'm laughing, but you can't see me.
Jujube15: You had me laughing for ages when I read that.
Blackvwidow: thank you.
Tannak: Your wish is my command.
Aly-of-tribond: I really like cookies.
Imperfection is Bliss: Well, this chapter answered the first part of that question. As for the second. A Dendrophiliac is a person that loves plants and trees and such to the point of well… to the point of having relations with them.
Thank you, all.
RainWaters
