Scars of the Future
Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.
A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!
Now, my patient reviewers...
Suuki-Aldrea- What will happen next, I wonder? Thanks for the review!
UK All The Way- Of course stupid Harry! You're absolutely right. grins evilly
Almadynis- Here's more!
LaxGoalie- Glad you're enjoying it, and thank you for adding me to your favorites list! No, it's not Sirius, unfortunately. Don't worry! Aragorn will have more of a part in the not so distant future, there just hasn't been anywhere to put him or anything for him to do yet. All right, just because you asked, I'll have some mischief making done by Fred and George and Merry and Pippin.
LATMC- You should be worried, let me tell you. Harry's not entirely stupid, he just really wants Sirius to be alive again. (Don't we all?) Then again, maybe his hopes aren't entirely false…Here's more, enjoy!
Dracula555- Uh oh indeed. evil smirk
Callisto Star- Thank you! Here's more!
to nowhere- Thrilled that you're obviously impressed and enjoying the story. Frodo angst rocks, doesn't it? Lol. Thanx for the review!
Celebwen Telcontar- blank expression Impressive. Someone who actually (I'm assuming) read the Silmarillion and remembered it all. Admittedly, I read a third of it before OotP came out, and then I forgot about it. Actually, I understand your um…opinions, and I'm glad you took the time to leave a well organized review rather than an inarticulate flame. Now, some people might call you a ranting insomniac, lol, but a more accurate description would probably be 'devoted aficionado'. I hope you don't take offense to that, it's supposed to be a compliment…
coolmarauders- Sirius is back? Hmm…maybe.
Brownie/Melody- Welcome aboard, and hang on because it's probably going to be a bumpier ride…very please you're enjoying the story. Like I've told my other reviewers many times, I cannot take full credit for this story. I've done all the writing, but probably 95 of the plot was created by Animagus-Spirit. (See first chapter for more details.) Anyway, thanks for your review. I hope you like this chapter just as much as the rest!
eresseabound- Is it Sirius indeed…
I want to thank all of you for waiting so patiently, I promise the next chapter will be up much, much sooner!
Chapter 8: Falling Into Fantasy
The chill and gray darkness of early morning found Harry sitting on the street corner, alert and impatient. He struggled to see through the dense fog that seemed to hang in the air like a wool blanket. The atmosphere was again bleak and wet, quite unlike the previous year, when the season had been blazing and the rays of the sun beat down. Even though it was yet a mere thirty minutes until sunrise, Harry highly doubted there would be much of a sun to see.
Hearing footsteps, Harry stood up. He peered forward into the gloom, and saw the silhouette of a man moving toward him. A moment later, Sirius emerged from the murk.
"Hello, Harry," he said, smiling.
Harry grinned. "Hey, Sirius."
Sirius glanced quickly around, as if to make sure they were alone. He lowered his voice. "Listen, Harry, I can't stay long, I'll explain later. But here," he reached into the pocket of the large, shabby overcoat he was wearing and pulled out a bottle made of purple glass. He handed it to Harry.
Harry looked at the small bottle. It appeared to be about half full of some sort of liquid. "What is it?" he asked.
"A potion. It will make everyone believe all I've told you."
"How did you get it?"
"I was quite good in Potions when I was at Hogwarts. Of course, that was before Snape was a teacher," he finished with a smirk.
"What should I do with it?"
"Pour the entire contents into a pitcher of whatever they're drinking for breakfast," he said. "Mix it. It's tasteless, so everyone will get some amount of it and never know, but the amount doesn't make any difference. Don't drink any yourself, though. "
"Everyone but Moody," Harry noted.
"They'll convince him then," said Sirius. "I have to go now. Hurry Harry, go do what I told you. I'll be back tomorrow. Goodbye."
"Bye," said Harry, although Sirius had already turned and begun striding back into the mist. Harry quickly started walking back to #12, intending to do as directed.
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Soft footsteps echoed off the stone and dirt walls of the corridor. A figure stopped before the throne-like chair. His long, dirty black hair fell into his eyes as he bowed before the man seated upon it.
"It is done, My Lord. I have given Harry Potter the poison and he will soon be administering it to those who dwell in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."
"You have done well," said Voldemort. "Return to Grimmauld Place and wait for him. He will come running when he sees what the potion does to his…friends. You did ascertain to tell him that he must not take any himself?"
"Yes, My Lord, as you commanded."
"Good. Once Potter is within my grasp you will be rewarded, for Lord Voldemort always rewards those who do what he asks."
"It was your ingenious mind, My Lord, that wrought this infallible plan," the man said, bowing again.
"Enough," Voldemort commanded. "Now, go, and do not return without Potter, or the consequences will be far worse than you can imagine."
"Yes, My Lord," he said, and bowed one last time before departing to do as he had been ordered.
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Harry crept stealthily into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasly had been temporarily distracted from setting the table by a timely dungbomb that was dropped in the hallway.
Harry quickly moved to the pitcher of orange juice and poured half of the clear liquid into it. Just to be safe, the other half he emptied into the tea kettle. He stirred them both a bit with a wooden spoon he had found on the counter, then sneaked out the door and was back in his room before Ron had completely waken up.
"Morning, mate," yawned Ron, rubbing his eyes. "Wha's for breakfast?"
Harry shrugged. "I was just about to go down now."
"Right," said Ron. "Be down in a minute then."
Harry left the room, went down the stairs and entered the kitchen, faking a yawn and rubbing his eyes. "Morning, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasly with an edge of irritation. The rancid smell from the dungbomb still hung thickly in the air. Sorry, Mrs. Weasly, he thought.
Harry was the only other person in the room, and Mrs. Weasly was still putting the finishing touches on breakfast, every now and then muttering something about abominations in the family causing mayhem everywhere they go and destroying everything they laid hands on. He had to look away to hide his laughter.
A few minutes later, as Mrs. Weasly was placing bacon on the table, Ron and Hermione tramped into the room. They were followed a few minutes later by Merry, Pippin, and Gandalf. Frodo, Sam and Legolas followed Remus and Mundungus.
Harry sat, perched on the edge of his seat as each person sat down. He was extremely alert, almost jumpy with anticipation. His senses felt enhanced; he was aware of every sound, sight, smell, and touch. The sound of Mrs. Weasly setting the jug of orange juice on the table, along with the tea kettle sounded like thunder. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Frodo as he poured the steaming liquid into the delicate china in front of him. Like a hawk watching a mouse, Harry watched intently as the hobbit lifted the cup to his lips and delicately took a drink of the corrupt tea. He could almost see it sliding down his throat and into his stomach. With barely containable patience, he waited. He did not have to wait long.
Within seconds, Frodo's faced paled drastically and sweat broke out on his brow. The hobbit let out a choked cry and began to shake, then slid sideways off the chair. Instantly Sam was on the floor beside him as everyone else at the table leapt to their feet, shouting orders to one another or gasping in fear.
It was Legolas that saved him. With the quickness only an elf could posses, he knelt beside the hobbit and turning him forward, he placed his long finger down Frodo's throat, causing him to vomit the contents of his stomach, thus ridding himself of the poison that was within him. The hobbit collapsed, exhausted, in the elf's arms.
A hand rested on Legolas's shoulder. He looked up to see Aragorn standing above him, smiling gratefully but looking worried. "You have done well my friend," he said, and knelt beside the elf.
"It was you who taught me such things," the elf replied.
Nodding, Aragorn lifted Frodo into his own arms and studied the pale complexion and sweat-ridden body. "None of you eat or drink anything in this room," he said, and stood and carried the hobbit to his room and laid him on the bed, still unmade. He removed the vomit-drenched shirt and with a cloth wiped Frodo's clammy face before gently covering him with the soft sheets. "Oh, Frodo," he murmured. "What has befallen you now?" Footsteps were heard and several concerned faces entered the room.
"What's wrong with him?" Sam demanded, tears coursing silently down his face. Behind him, Merry and Pippin nodded, their own tears falling gently. Aragorn met Gandalf's eyes and nodded; the wizard gently closed the door.
"Frodo was poisoned," the former ranger said, causing quick inhalations of air, more like hiccups, from the hobbits. Aragorn held up a hand. "Our friend will be all right. Thanks to Legolas, most of the poison has been removed from his body. I do not know what sort of poison this is, do not know whether it was meant to kill or to weaken. Legolas, if you would bring me whatever it was he drank…" The elf nodded and left the room. "He will most likely be quite weak for a few days' time."
"Who would poison him, Aragorn?" Gimli asked.
Aragorn shook his head and looked to Gandalf, who said, "I do not believe anyone within this house would cause any harm to any of us purposefully. However," he paused and let his gaze travel to each one of them. "There are those who can be easily influenced to do something of evil."
"You believe others are working through someone in this house?" Aragorn said.
The wizard nodded. "Yes, I am afraid so. As to who, I do not know, and that is what we must find out."
"And how do you suppose we do that?" demanded Gimli.
"Each of us must shadow a member of this household. Who does not matter." Gandalf said. "Meriadoc, I want you to keep and eye on the twins. Pippin," he hesitated as if thinking. "I think you should follow Harry. As for the rest of you, it does not matter. I believe you can choose for yourselves. Yes, Samwise, you may remain with Frodo if that is what you wish."
"What about you, Gandalf?" asked Aragorn.
"I am reporting directly to Albus Dumbledore, he will better know who to suspect than I." Gandalf turned and walked to the door, but before opening it he turned. "I trust you will inform Legolas of this task." Aragorn nodded. The wizard let his gaze travel to Frodo, lying asleep on the bed. "I only wish I could be here when he wakes. I promised him he would not suffer if he agreed to join us, and it seems he has already endured too much. I feel I have not been there for him when he has needed me," he said, his voice full of remorse, and opened the door and left.
No sooner had Gandalf gone then Legolas entered, carrying the tea kettle in one hand and a tray of food in the other. "Forgive my delay," he said. "Molly bid me to bring you some food. She has just prepared some more, and I am sure it is edible, for she allowed no one else in the kitchen and I carefully observed her actions."
Aragorn nodded his approval. "I trust your decisions, Legolas, hannon le." He took the kettle from the elf and removing the lid looked into its contents. As he had suspected, there was nothing obviously wrong about the tea. "I will examine this the best that I can," he said. "As for the rest of you, Frodo needs quiet, you can dine in the kitchen, or if you would prefer, in Merry and Pippin's room." The hobbits, Merry and Pippin that is, nodded, for their room was closest to Frodo's should he need anything. "You as well, Sam. Frodo will be all right without you for awhile. You can return here when you have eaten," he paused and looked directly into the stout hobbit's eyes. "And only then, Sam." The said hobbit nodded, though unwillingly.
As the others began to leave to eat, Aragorn turned and laid a hand on Frodo's brow. "I will find who did this to you, my friend, I promise you, and he will be punished."
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Harry burst through the front doors of Number 12 and sprinted down the street, stopping only at the corner. "SIRIUS!" he shouted. "SIRIUS!"
In answer to his calls, Sirius stepped from behind a nearby building. "Hello, Harry," he said calmly.
Harry stared at him, in disbelief. A moment ago rage and confusion had coursed through his body. Now, seeing Sirius before him he was taken aback. He had not expected the man to answer his summons, but now that he had, all anger left him. "You-you've been here? The whole time?"
Sirius nodded. "Yes, waiting for you. I knew you'd need answers."
Harry studied him. Something stirred deep within him, some inner alarm that was telling him, trying to tell him at least, that things weren't right, but he couldn't bring himself to listen to it. From a clump of nearby bushes, Pippin observed the scene before him with intense curiosity. What was going on here?
"I don't understand," Harry said.
"The weakness is just and unpleasant side effect of the potion. They'll all be well soon, and with renewed thoughts. But I advise you to come with me."
"Where?"
Pippin crept closer so to better hear the conversation that was transpiring.
"To find Pettigrew and turn him in. Then I need not worry about hiding. I just almost lost my life and I have decided to enrich it and really live again, and I need that rat to do so."
"You mean to go to Voldemort?" said Harry, entirely taken aback.
"Yes."
Pippin felt his eyes widen and wondered if he should turn back to get one of the others, but he found himself unable to move from his post.
"How do you know where it is?"
"I studied the movements of Death Eaters and found it." Sirius said. He began walking away and then turned around. "Are you coming?"
For the first time since seeing Sirius again, Harry began to have doubts. He paused just a moment, but then nodded. "I'm coming."
"Harry, no!"
Both Harry and Sirius jerked around. Pippin had leapt out of the bushes and stood on the sidewalk, staring at them both.
"Who is this?" demanded Sirius in a manner too frightful to be inconspicuous.
"Harry, please, it isn't right!" the hobbit shouted.
Harry looked from Pippin to Sirius and then back to Pippin. "Pippin, what-"
"You've been blinded by grief! Frodo was poisoned, Harry, poisoned!" he pleaded.
"Don't talk about things you don't understand! Locomotar Mortis!" Pippin's legs snapped together and he fell over, his head slamming on the hard concrete and knocking him unconscious.
"Come on, Harry," said Sirius. Harry took one last look at Pippin, then turned and ran after his godfather.
TBC!
