Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Chosen Ones
8/8/05-8/10/05
Minerva lazily drifted between the realm of dreams and reality as she dutifully read the dreadfully boring article about exploding cauldrons in the Daily Prophet. She felt her eyelids droop as she read and reread the same sentence five times in repeated succession without so much as an inkling of comprehension. The day just seemed to drag on forever as she waited for the Potters to return from the Quidditch World Cup. For the umpteenth time that day, she couldn't help but wonder why they didn't bring Harry along with them. It was as much Harry's birthday as it was Dylan's, but then again, this was Lily and James's family, not hers.
Dropping the newspaper, Minerva gently propped herself comfortably up against the couch arm and prepared to take a small nap. Just as her eyes drifted shut, an ear-splitting scream had her jumping out of the couch in seconds, hands groping wildly for her misplaced wand. Finding her missing wand in the back pocket of her robes, Minerva quickly proceeded to storm upstairs and towards Harry's room - the last door down the right hall.
Rapping her knuckles loudly across the door, Minerva frantically shouted, "Harry, open the door! Harry!" When silence greeted her, Minerva decided she was going to take matters into her own hands, which meant she was going in regardless of what Harry wanted. "Alohomora!" Turning the knob, Minerva blinked in surprise when the door refused to budge. "Alohomora!" she repeated, slightly more forceful this time. "Alohomora! Alohomora!"
Another piercing scream, louder and more heart-wrenching than the last, shook Minerva out of her stupor. "Harry, tell me what's wrong! Harry! Open the door!" When everything became deathly silent, Minerva feared the worst - several morbid possibilities leaping into her mind, none of which was even remotely pleasant.
Turning away from the door, Minerva quickly raced back downstairs and into the living room. If anyone, Dumbledore would know what to do in a situation like this. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, she stepped into the empty fireplace and shouted, "Hogwarts," just as she released the powder. In a burst of sickly green flames, she was gone.
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Standing in front of the Potter's house, Voldemort silently reveled in the exhilaration of the prospect of killing some of his more powerful opponents. As his servants slowly gathered around him, he turned his attention to his more trusted Death Eaters. "Severus - Bella, I want you two to stay out here with a handful of Death Eaters and make sure no one gets in and no one gets out. Kill anyone who gets in your way."
"I wouldn't have it anyway, Milord." Bella answered, dropping to one knee.
"Yes Master." echoed Snape, his stoic expression belying his inner turmoil.
"Regulus, Lucius, and Rodolphus will accompany me inside with the rest." Voldemort added, turning to the last three in his inner circle. "Let it begin." he finished with a soft hiss as he glided towards the front door, blasting it open with a simple charm. Stepping into the living room, he was slightly surprised that it was empty. Save for a weak energy trail that led up stairs, the whole house seemed pretty empty.
"Milord?" Rodolphus asked as he glanced around the room.
"Search the house and kill anyone you come across." Voldemort snarled before following the faint trail of energy upstairs, which stopped before a room labeled, "Room of Harry Potter – Do Not Disturb."
With a silent scoff, Voldemort reached out his hand to turn the knob, but quickly discovered that the door wouldn't budge. Pointing the tip his wand to the door knob, Voldemort hissed, "Alohomora." Much to his annoyance, the door remained obstinately locked. Narrowing his crimson eyes into thin slits, Voldemort moved on to more powerful unlocking spells – determined to open the door at any cost.
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Odion's eyes widened slightly as he watched several cloaked men mill in and out of the house, ransacking and destroying everything they could lay their grubby hands on. Was this really the same house he had visited twenty minutes prior?
Shaking himself out of his stupor, Odion quickly apparated into Harry's room, easily infiltrating the barrier he had created. "What the…?" he whispered incredulously as he felt the barriers around him weaken.
Lifting Harry into his arms, Odion quickly proceeded to focus all his energy onto strengthening the collapsing barrier. Whoever was on the other side of the door was not the same person that had been there twenty minutes ago, Odion deducted. This person was stronger, possibly even more powerful than him, and reeked of dark power and malicious intentions.
Knowing the barrier wouldn't hold much longer under the constant assault, Odion hurriedly grabbed Harry's limp arm and made a shallow cut down the length of it, watching distastefully as the blood pooled on the ground. After sealing the cut, Odion shifted Harry's weight to his right arm and stretched out his left.
A flurry of words erupted from his lips as he chanted the spell in the long-forgotten language of the Ancients. The puddle of blood began to glow a dim gold, slowly turning brighter as Odion neared the end of the spell. Just as the last word of the chant left his mouth, the golden glow receded and the blood began to shift and mold itself into an exact replicate of the child in his arm. When the transformation was finally complete, the duplicated Harry gazed up at Odion with a blank look that was void of both emotion and will. Odion moaned painfully as he tried to cope with the repercussions of the Human Duplication Spell – energy loss and a major migraine.
Locking eyes with the duplicate's dull, emotionless ones, Odion lifted a finger and aimed it at the child's heart. He paused for a second, contemplating his actions, which in a sense, would be no better than a murder's, but in the end, decided that his initial intention would work for the better good of everyone. "Avada Kedavra." As soon as those cursed words left his mouth, the duplicated Harry flopped soundlessly onto the ground, eyes staring unseeingly ahead.
A timeless moment followed as Odion steadied his shaking body by grabbing onto the bed post. He took a shaky breath and smiled sardonically as a thin trail of blood leaked from the edge of his lips and coursed down his chin. "This may really be the end for me…" he whispered, knowing he was going to suffer the consequences of going over his magical limit by performing several powerful spells in close succession. Realizing it was only a matter of seconds before he fainted from exhaustion, Odion quickly tightened his hold around Harry lithe form and apparated out of the house.
A split second after Harry and Odion departed, the door burst open, leaving a slightly perplexed Voldemort staring at the lifeless body of Harry Potter.
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Dumbledore hummed a small, offbeat tune as he exited the room of requirements. There was a slight skip to his walk as he turned the corner. He blinked his eyes in surprise when his Transfiguration Professor smacked straight into his chest, nearly toppling over him in her rush.
"Albus!" Minerva cried with relief as she scrambled off the headmaster.
"Minerva," Dumbledore greeted cordially. "I thought you were watching young Harry for the Potters."
"I am!" Minerva answered, wringing her hands. "Something happened to Harry! He was screaming in pain and when I tried to check on him, the door was locked. I tried the Alohomora charm, but it didn't work. When I asked Harry to open the door, he didn't respond. I think something happened to him! Albus, I don't know what to do! What should I do? Oh, we have to get back there now!"
"Let's go," agreed Dumbledore, the usual twinkle in his eyes disappearing as he hurried towards his office, where the only fireplace linking to the Potters' house resided. He only hoped everything wasn't too late, or else he'd never forgive himself.
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"That was boring." Regulus whispered to Rodolphus.
"That might be because the house was empty." Rodolphus shot back, not in the mood to discuss the raid with his friend.
"Master hasn't said a word since the raid," Bellatrix added, squeezing herself between her cousin and husband, "do you think he's displeased?"
"Right, because Master talks so much when he's in a good mood." Regulus sneered.
"In other words, if Master was displeased, we'd be under the Cruciatus Curse." Rodolphus explained when Bellatrix crinkled her forehead in confusion. "But what I don't understand is why we are taking the time to march back to the manor instead of apparating."
Casting the Dark Lord a weary glance, Regulus answered in a hushed tone, "Maybe he's trying to work out his frustrations by walking."
"What frustrations?" Bellatrix whispered back in an equally soft voice.
"Well, I heard Master hasn't found a decent bed partner in ages…" Regulus whispered excitedly with a suggestive smirk. Faster than he could say, "oops", he found himself at the end of Lord Voldemort's wrath. "M-Master," Regulus gasped painfully, immediately identifying the curse as the Cruciatus Curse (he would know, he cast it almost three times a day, once after each meal). Digging his fingers into the flesh of his palm, leaving bruising indents, Regulus shakily wheezed, "F-Forgive…me!"
"Lord Voldemort does NOT forgive." he hissed, increasing the power of the curse three-fold.
Regulus's eyes bulged as he screamed and writhed in pain, causing his cousin to wince slightly. Bellatrix refrained from covering her ears to block out her cousin's pain-filled cries out of fear of being placed under the same curse for showing weakness. If there was one thing Voldemort did not tolerate, it was weakness, and he had made his philosophy very clear from the very beginning – Those too weak to control their fears and emotions were better off dead. Well, it was one of his many philosophies…it ranked in importance right below the one that said all muggles (and muggle-lovers) were scum; therefore undeserving to walk amongst the living.
"You will do well to remember not to gossip behind Lord Voldemort's back." the Dark Lord hissed, his crimson eyes flashing ominously as he lifted the Cruciatus Curse. "Especially when he's three feet ahead of you." he silently added with a pointed glare at both Bellatrix and Rodolphus, who shrunk back in fear.
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Minerva gasped at the destruction around her as Dumbledore hurried outside without a word to his companion. Tilting his head heavenwards, his suspicions were confirmed at the sight of the Dark Mark hanging ominously above the house. He felt his hands tremble as he hurried back inside. "Minerva…" he began, but immediately dropped what he was going to say when he spotted the Transfiguration Professor slowly walking down the stairs with a small bundle cradled in her arms. "Is that…?" he softly whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Harry's dead, Albus." Minerva answered, slowly laying Harry's limp form on the couch. "He was just a child! Who would do such a thing?" she suddenly demanded, tears spilling from her eyes.
"It's Voldemort."
"W-What?"
"His mark hangs above this house." sighed Dumbledore as he gently touched Harry's cold cheeks. "I never meant for this to happen. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone by asking Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter to swear to keep their distance from Harry. I always believed Voldemort would try to persuade Harry to join his side by force - Voldemort could and would use anything or any method to achieve his goals. I had thought it was best for Harry to remain unattached. I thought by doing this, I could prevent Voldemort from using the people Harry cares about against him. Never in my wildest dream did I expect Voldemort to actually kill Harry, who was possibly Voldemort's key to world domination."
"Albus…" Minerva whispered. She wanted to comfort the old headmaster and tell him everything was going to be okay…but it wasn't. She turned her head away to allow the headmaster some privacy as he cried.
"Minerva," Dumbledore whispered, his eyes slightly red. "We need to leave. I'm going to take Harry to the Ministry. I need you to go inform Mr. and Mrs. Potter about Harry and ask them to meet me in my office."
Minerva gave a small nod as Dumbledore lifted Harry into his arms. "Albus," she whispered just before the headmaster left. "we all made our own share of mistakes. We're only human, we aren't perfect. Don't take all the blame."
"But Severus had hinted to me several times that the way I had asked everyone to treat Harry was the wrong approach. I should have listened to him, Minerva." whispered Dumbledore sadly. "I'm a old fool for not recognizing something that even James's worst rival had noticed."
"But James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Peter chose to obey your orders. You didn't force them to neglect and isolate Harry. You just did what you thought was right - and in a sense, I think your idea made sense. I'm not trying to make you feel better or place the blame on anyone else. All I'm saying is that we'll just have to deal with this problem together, learn from our mistakes, and move on. We can't change history, Albus."
"Thank you, Minerva." Dumbledore replied with a small, sad smile.
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Dumbledore waited with baited breath for the Potters to crash into the office at any minute…He wasn't disappointed when Lily, who looked like she had ran all the way from the Quidditch Stadium to Hogwarts, burst into his office with puffy, red eyes and quivering lips. James appeared behind her a few second later, arms wrapped tightly around Dylan, who looked more annoyed than worried. It took a less than ten seconds for the rest of the group (Moody, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and everyone else who had attended Dylan's birthday) to assemble in the little office, which left Dumbledore little to no space for movement. Actually, it was kind of getting hard to breathe too.
"I wasn't expecting…everyone." Dumbledore stated bluntly as he eyed the array of Aurors and Professors. "Might I suggest we discuss this in a more…shall I say spacious room?"
"No, tell me what happened to my son!" Lily cried. "You promised that he'd be safe as long as we kept out distance from him! You said that as long as he didn't learn magic and stayed home, he'd be safe! You lied to me!"
"Lily…" Dumbledore whispered in a pained voice, his eyes softening slightly as he gazed at the hysterical woman.
"Let's hear what Dumbledore has to say first." James suggested, wrapping a comforting arm around his wife's waist. "Maybe this is all a mistake and Harry is just injured or…"
"James, Harry is dead." Dumbledore interrupted. "We found his body in his room."
At this, Lily released a suffocated sob as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Voldemort," Dumbledore continued, causing several people to flinch, "finished Harry with the Killing Curse."
"Maybe it's an imposter?" James suggested. "Maybe it isn't…"
"We've ran a blood test and it is indeed Harry." answered Dumbledore, who released a pained sigh. "I didn't think Voldemort would actually kill Harry. I thought he'd try to persuade Harry to align himself with him."
"I should've spent more time with him." Lily sobbed. "I shouldn't have listened to you!" she finished, glaring hatefully at Dumbledore. "If I had taught him magic…he could've defended himself…Harry…" she finished with a strangled cry.
"Even if you had, I doubt Harry would have stood a chance against Voldemort."
"He wouldn't have had to face him if we had brought him to Dylan – no their – birthday!" Lily hissed. "I neglected Harry because I trusted you to make the wise choice! I trusted you when you said it would benefit Harry in the long run if we kept our distance from him!"
"Lily, I'm only human." admitted the headmaster as he picked up a stack of his papers, utilizing it as a fan to give himself some air in the overly crowded room. "I make mistakes like everyone else."
"I lost Harry!" Lily shouted vehemently.
"But wouldn't this give Dylan a fair shot against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Peter squeaked, "You know, with Harry out of the equation, the balance between Light and Dark is once again balanced...I think."
"Harry is the grain the grain that tips the scale in the upcoming war. While there is a chance that Harry could have turned out good, there's an equal chance that he could have turned out dark." mumbled one of the aurors.
"I don't give a damn." Lily hissed in a dangerously low voice.
"Hey…I'm suffocating…" interrupted Peter, raising his hand as if he were asking for permission to speak. "It's like 200 degrees in here!"
"I am suffocating too," Sirius hissed back, "but this isn't the time for complaining." he growled, swiping the wayward tear from his eyes. He had never been a good godfather to Harry…damn it, he didn't know anything about Harry! He had been to caught up in the prophecy and listening to Dumbledore to care about his godson. He had always dreamed of being the perfect godfather, but this…It wasn't supposed to be like this!
"I for one don't want to die…" Peter continued.
"Shut up, Peter." Sirius yelled, eyes blazing with fury. He knew he was being unfair to his short, chubby friend by venting his anger on him, but damn it, the rat didn't know when to shut up and it was driving him up the edge.
"Both of you; shut up." Remus interrupted as James tightly embraced Lily, trying to offer her what comfort he could give.
"Can I have my cake now?" Dylan asked as he fanned himself with his hand. "I'm hungry." And for once in his life, he was totally and utterly ignored.
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"Where is the old coot?" Sheena hissed as she twisted her hand nervously. "He can't possibly have messed up when he specifically told us not to mess up. Fatima, is he here yet?"
"No, he isn't." Fatima replied. "For goodness sake, Sheena, lighten up! Odion's almost 300 years old. He can take care of himself!"
"And it isn't your place to care for him like that. You're not his wife. Odion has a wife and that's Diana."
"Lyon!" Fatima admonished her companion as if he was a 3-year-old child. "You don't have to be someone's husband or wife to care about them. We can care about each others as friends, companions, or even as acquaintances!"
"Damn it, where are you guys?" two voice shouted in unison.
"Roslyn – Simon, we're in the dining room!" Fatima answered at the top of her lungs.
"Come over here, it's Odion, and he's injured!"
"What?" Sheena asked as she rushed out of the dining hall, following the trace of Simon's energy signature onto one of the training grounds. The sight of the barely conscious Odion made her heart twist painfully in her chest as she knelt beside him, gently asking if he was going to be all right.
Taking his left hand, Fatima quickly checked his pulse, paling almost immediately at what she found. "He's used a lot of magic today and he's completely depleted." she explained as Odion's eyes slowly rolled into the back of his head.
"He's dead, isn't he?" Sheena asked with barely controlled horror.
"Um, no," Fatima replied slowly. "Odion's not dead…he's just depleted."
"What do you mean?"
"This," Fatima began, referring to the magical depletion, "on top of the injury he had never completely recovered from fifty years ago…well, I'm afraid he's going into a magical coma."
"This isn't a time for jokes," Roslyn warned as she craned her neck over Sheena's shoulder to get a better look at Odion.
"And when do I ever joke?" Fatima hissed.
"Fatima's telling the truth…Odion's in a magical coma." Lyon whispered after carefully examining their leader.
"Why? What happened?" Sheena whispered hysterically as she tried to shake Odion awake.
"I think we're going to have to ask our Chosen One – that is, if he was conscious during that time. They usually pass out after the initiation. I still remember mine – I was out for days." Simon answered, returning with a frail, little boy with messy black hair in his arms. "If my assumptions are correct, Odion saved this little boy at possibly the cost of his own life. When we," Simon explained, nodding towards Roslyn, "found Odion, he was clutching this boy like a life-line. Odion didn't say anything but his eyes spoke volumes. He wants this boy taken care of."
"You make it sound like we mistreat the brats." Lyon hissed.
"I did not!" Simon retorted. "Well, maybe you do, but the rest of us…"
"That's enough!" Sheena shouted, eyes tearing up. "Fatima," she whispered, looking towards her best friend and medical expert, "is there any way that…?" she asked with a tinge of hope lacing her voice.
"There's a possibility he will never wake up," Fatima began, but quickly added, "but there is an equal chance that he will. We just don't know when. It could be tomorrow, a few days, maybe months, or even years. All we can do for him is ensure he's comfortable and getting the necessary amount of vitamins and minerals while he is unconscious."
"This isn't fair," Sheena whispered as she lightly caressed Odion's cheek.
"Nothing ever is." Lyon snorted, though his eyes softened slightly as the sight of his friend.
An uncomfortable silence followed before Fatima suggested that they move Odion into his room, where he would be most comfortable.
"Hey, he's waking up!" Simon stated incredulously.
"He is?" Sheena asked excitedly, staring expectantly at Odion.
"No, I mean this little guy." Simon whispered, shifting Harry's weight to his other arm. "It's amazing. They're usually out for days…even weeks sometimes. He has potential to be great…it's only been 45 minutes…"
"The same potential as him." interrupted Lyon, eyes narrowing slightly. "He had the same potential and power, waking up only minutes after the initiation."
"Give it a rest," Roslyn interrupted. "Not everyone with power is going to turn out bad! Now be quiet, he's opening his eyes."
"I say we kill him before he kills the rest of us after learning all our secrets." Lyon voted.
"You're paranoid." snorted Simon before turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.
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TBC
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