The War's Beginning
"Harry you really should come down stairs for a bit. Mums made some scones. They're really good." Ronald Wesley mumbled happily, stuffing the last of a said pastry into his mouth. He wore a thin orange shirt with a small stain of sugar on the left arm, along with a pair of loose pants that were a bit to short for his lanky legs.
Harry did not reply, staring out the window silently. The redhead giving a small shrug then turned away and left the boy in peace, though the darker haired young man could see the worry in the straight uncomfortable stance of his friend's departure.
Harry knew well he was being stubborn, but he couldn't help it. The lad also was quite aware that he couldn't allow himself the comforts for now.
The war was coming, and quickly, dredging itself from the bowels of the darkest places of the wizarding world. It was the snake that slithered up, releasing its venom into the world as if it had no other purpose than to release destruction. Harry thought that maybe it didn't, Voldemort had no other purpose.
Harry had dreams of these things at night: the unstoppable slaughter of Muggles and wizards alike, their screams punctuation the waking and dreaming world with a bright splash of red, that melded over into his waking thoughts and fears. It was only when he could find peace and solitude did he dare try to think of ways to deal with these hardships. He couldn't allow Ron and Hermione to, to be put at risk.
At least not now, they were all he had left. That and his rage, the painful pull of a sarcastic smile came to his full lips. Yes, he knew that well enough.
The young man had lost himself to seek revenge for all those murdered, Cedric, the Flitdon's a wizarding family, that had not been judged as pure enough to survive the last deadly curse. Leaving a boy behind, one that was about eleven, Harry had seen him the first day of school and knew at once what he felt.
Loneliness, desperation to be accepted by anyone, and that all consuming hatred for the beings that had stolen away his 'normal' life, Harry would be oh-so-happy to help that young man realize his dream.
Harry Potter would be happy to kill Voldemort.
He was planning now, testing his skills daily with Ron and Sirius so that he would be prepared for the final battle. Hermione and Remus worked nearly non-stop, researching the old forgotten spells that may in fact sway their side to victory. It was harsh, agonizing and painstaking, work that made the mind numb to the atrocities surrounding the world around them.
The Order had found evidence of 'testing' spells on Muggles, by Death Eater's. The bodies discovered through links of spies and several other magical tracing outlets. Harry could remember the bodies vividly, the blood moving over the image as if a mockery of the life that had once been there.
The spells tested were horrible. Some would freeze a individual in place then slowly turn their cells functions backward, until the persons body started to explode. Others would give frostbite to a certain part of the body, maybe an arm or leg. Then slowly move and unfreeze, moving over every part until it reached the head. And lastly, the most sickening spell of all, at least in Harry's opinion was Dereadfills Bite.
It was the corrupted form of the Dementors Kiss, a spell that was…evil. This one was much, much worse. It didn't simply remove the soul and leave a shell, which could remember very little; no it removed the soul and then left the mind completely in tact. The body could still move and act with a completely functional brain, and yet left the knowledge that they had once been a whole being. The person was left only with the remembered feelings of the soul, and was in fact, dead. At least to Harry, he would want to be.
Voldemort had attacked a muggle family, reducing them these tortured creatures. To an entire family, a wife and mother, a father, a daughter, and lastly a newborn son.
Withholding his own voice Harry stood up, pushing his body along the rooms edge. It was overfilled as usual, but this was the Burrow, and he was in fact staying with the Wesley's house. As were Hermione, Sirius, Remus, Blaise Zabini (a young Slytherin who had refused the mark and was currently helping in the research department), and Pansy Parkinson, each for there own reasons. Although for the moment only Ron, and his mother Molly were in the house, the others out doing their own part for the Order.
Hermione had gone with Blaise to one of the libraries of the ancient studies. Remus and Sirius off trying to help Dumbledore with something or the other. Pansy Parkinson was with Draco Malfoy not surprisingly, helping with a Dragon capture.
But that was the way the world worked, everyone did everything for his or her own reasons. Not because it was right, or because it was good. None of those misconceived ideals that they'd all been taught in school, no honor.
Nothing was good, only better.
Harry picked up his wand; the wood was burning, faint and yet nearly pleasant in its own way. After all the pain would remind him that he was indeed there, that he was the Boy-Who-Lived, and that no matter how desperately he wanted things to change all he could do was move with the world around him.
Harry had learned that in life, there are only queens, and pawns.
Silently he left his temporary room, avoiding looking at the vacant room across the hall.
It was, or had been Ginny's room; the girl was not there. She was at St. Mungo's, still recovering from the DeathEater attack that had left her unconscious for months. Ginny's pain had torn a massive hole in the Wesley family, leaving each of its members nearly silent with their own personal turmoil.
It was driving Ron mad with guilt, that his younger sister had been the one to suffer, and not himself. Although Harry could understand to a certain extent, he'd known more about guilt than most people could comprehend.
The Boy-Who-Lived also knew well that his best male companion and trusted fellow could not allow this judgment to cloud him for long, Ron was true to his redheaded nature, rage would only get him killed in battle.
Harry went down the houses stairs, and into the kitchen, which still smelled of baking bread and sweet sugar. He offered up a smile to Mrs.Weasley, who was busily putting away several of scones, into small magically sealed packages. He assumed the goods were for Fred and George, who were currently living in a small flat in muggle London. They'd been able to afford one of the nicer places now that they had money to spare; it was a real help to the whole family.
Harry had visited their apartment once before, and thought it was nice enough for two bachelors. Although nothing he'd be happy with himself, everything was just to urban for him, if he lived long enough Harry quite wanted a house someplace in the country where he could just be himself.
The twins tested most of their potential products for their newly opened shop Weasley's Wizard Weezes (which luckily enough Harry had quite an investment in so he got to try any of the new products for free in his spare time.) In their apartment, Ron had been there with him and Harry couldn't stop the smile from coming to his face at the happy memory.
The four of them (Ron and the twins) had spent the entire day discussing, and testing the new tricks that the store might be making for Hogwart's students. Some of Harry's personal favorites had been the, Duplicating Draught of Dismemberment (a drink that tasted faintly of chocolate and would give the illusion that an arm or leg had been removed from the body, something they'd felt would do well near Halloween), as well as the False Flinching-Finger Pinchers (one of the more ingenious designs that mimicked either a regular Tasty Todd's Peppermint Spider right down to the small white and black stripes, or a Fudge-Field Mouse lollypop. Depending on which sort you wanted and how long you wanted the supposed 'venom' for the victim to last, the two sorts would be sold in separate bins.)
Fred and George had managed to make the spider and mouse both carry a bite that would bring growing itchiness for several hours afterward, Ron had thought it would do wonders for a few of the Prefects at school. Harry had noticed that they could even move around when asked, which would no doubt make them a best seller when it came to getting back at someone unnoticed.
Harry's most favorite design was one he'd asked to keep, Black Bottles of Black Beetles, or a small bottle that looked like any old ink container. But in all actually held several hundred condensed beetles that would do just what their 'owner' (or the owner of the bottle) would ask.
It was a simpler design, but something that Harry thought could really do some good when it came down to it. The beetles were very hardy dark little things with two sets of pointed legs that could lift about ten times their own weight and move things around easily.
"Now dear would you mind going to check on Ron? He's been outside training for some time now." Mrs. Wesley spoke up rubbing her fingers over the spotted-stained apron, which she was currently wearing. Harry gave a small nod and stood up from the table, watching as she spelled the gift baskets away and too her offspring.
Sometimes he was curious if his mother would have done something similar, from what Remus and Sirius had said Lilly had been a wonderful cook.
It was nearly disappointing he hadn't inherited that trait, he was far too much like his father, whom Sirius claimed couldn't even boil water.
"Just like your father Potter, idiotic, mislead, and totally inept."
Harry nearly gasped at the voiced memory that pushed itself into his consciousness; he hadn't seen Severus for weeks now, forcing himself to treat the man as if he was nothing.
No, he was nothing; the bastard had manipulated him into believing he was capable of honest judgments. That he wasn't a vindictive, heartless bugger who did not deserve the air, which he breathed.
But it had all been a lie, a painful well-woven lie.
I know that's not true.
Harry watched silently as Ron moved with his wand, casing curses and counter curses without taking a breath. He knew, some part of him realized that all he was doing was hiding and that Severus had something wrong.
The sun was bright, merry in a way that just didn't fit what Harry was feeling at the moment. Despondent feelings that swirled in his gut and made him feel dizzy, although in reality he wasn't.
The dark tanned young man watched as Ron finished his training, turning to glance up at his best mate. They hadn't spoken of the kiss some month's before, just as they hadn't spoken about their one night tryst with Hermione.
These things and so many more judgments of night long past, rested beneath the ground. The youthful knowledge of right, and wrong slowly being torn away bit by bit, leaving only the urge to fight behind.
"You're mum says to come inside." Harry spoke, Ron giving that sheepish smile that was only a memory of the real one, his eyes turning downward slightly, and longer red hair falling over them in the moment.
"Mum worries to much, I mean I'm just training...its fine. Sirius and Remus don't have to be here for everything." He gave a small huff and sighed shaking his head, stretching his shoulders for a moment.
"She's just still worried over Ginny Ron, that's all. I wouldn't really be so hard about it." Harry spoke turning to lead his companion inside, the lanky taller man following behind him.
It's strange how the world changes when you're afraid of it.
The book was familiar, all to familiar as Harry finally delved into its pages, using his wand for light in the darkness of his bedroom. Ron was asleep in the bed just beside his own, so he had to be careful.
He had no urge to explain why he was trying to find information on forbidden magic's; Ron was still to incensed by his sisters attack not to too hate them all. Every deviant spell, as well as every witch and wizard who used them for their own selfish purposes.
'How nice it must be to see the world in separate shades of black, and white.'
Harry's boxy fingertips ran over the edge of the page as he read the information that it contained, he needed to know.
He had to save Severus, even from himself, no matter what it cost.
Harry had to know what exactly, Actodum's Gate was.
The Way of the Gates Fact or Fiction? By: Morgan Mumps.
The Gates System, referring to the collection of magical pathways that exist. These ancient by-ways connect all that is magic from the past, to that which is in the present, as well as the 'dams' which prevent Muggles from using Magic.
They are supposedly in essence the roads by which all witches and wizards reach their magical power, and in the past have been manipulated for means of good and evil. In the past Morgan the Fae used such by-ways to ultimately kill Merlin, taking his very soul and sealing him within the last byway, Actodum's Gate.
One thousand, five hundred and fifty years ago the gate system was sealed so that no further meddling could contaminate the magic. Using several encrypted books to render it nearly impossible to seek this power, for which only on key existed, the key has been lost and so now the books are useless.
Notes: Actodum's Gate is the last reserve of the magical world, it is were all magical creatures and their sources exist on a plane that only the strongest wizards may in fact even touch. If this Gate is opened, it for a short amount of time gives even Muggles the ability to use magic, although that would be preposterous, it rendering average wizards and witches with such powerful ability that it might in fact drive them insane.
Notes: It is rumored that to use the Gates to their full potential, one must have a living source to connect back to the real world; this can only be accomplished through the ancient spell work related to The Joining Ritual, illustrated in my earlier works. See pages 789 for definition.
This is clearly all rumors, supposed information, and relies little on fact. After all how could our entire world forget such an important function?
But one must wonder with a curious mind, what if the key was found?
Or more importantly, who would find it?
There was a crash downstairs loud and shaking as if the door had been pushed open by a spell. Harry moving at once, he would not loose anyone else to these attacks. Ron already out of the room to try and protect his family, as he had not been able to protect Ginny.
Molly Wesley had the door open, as it had pushed off Severus's feeble attack, apparently it had been used only to draw attention. The light to the kitchen already on, her older eyes spotting the boys with certain stillness. "Ron go get some healing potion now! The strongest we've got, its upstairs in the potions cupboard. " She looked stronger now than Harry had seen her in months, crouched over the bloodied body of an unconscious Severus Snape. Her hair was a mess, puffed out in away that made her look windblown, intelligent eyes fastened on the man as she attempted to steady him into consciousness.
Harry stood still as Ron departed, his eyes wide and nearly unseeing as he focused on the others mutilated body. His skin was paler than Harry had remembered it, large open wounds on his arms, cloak torn to shambles. The blood seeped out of the thick black material and onto the floor from his thick and thin wounds that covered most of his body. Severus's eyes were closed in pain, as he attempted to speak, voice riddled with unseen pain.
"Spell the doors, windows. We are not safe here." He managed to rasp out, throat dry and cracking in away that was distinctly unsettling, Molly nodded glancing to Harry.
"You keep an eye on him Harry. I need to do the spell work." She bustled out of the room wand in hand and Harry kneeled down, helping Severus up and into the living room.
The other was shivering, his strong hands curled into themselves.
Harry took the potion from Ron, pouring it down Severus's throat, as the grown man could not hold it himself, the shaking was to severe. The magic smell oozed over the air in a thick mist that Harry had felt far too many times in his life, it was nearly ghastly, thick with small traces of the potions original contents.
"I've been compromised. We have very little time left, much less than I thought." The others thinner lips spoke wrapping around the words in away that was very stressed, Harry was unable to look away from them.
He'd never felt such fear before, not even when he'd thought he was going to die, facing Voldemort. When he'd seen Severus's dirtied bloodied body on the kitchen floor something had shot through him that couldn't compare to anything else.
Mortal Fear.
" Voldemort has found the key to Actodum's Gate. He plans on using it in the next month; we have run out of time. Now is the time for war." Severus looked up, into Harry's eyes staring at him with such intensity that the young man could not comprehend for a moment.
Then, with a deathly sort of silence, the younger lad understood. Severus knew that the time had passed for his life. His purpose would be fulfilled with the Joining, with Harry; this was their death sentence.
No more time for games, joy's and idleness with the only people he'd ever loved, or been loved in return.
It was time for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, to die.
Everything would rely on Actodum's Gate.