Master of the Ring

Chapter Seven: In the grim darkness

Regeneration comes in many forms. For a TimeLord or TimeMage, it is accomplished by releasing, either voluntarily or by reflex, the regeneration energy stored in their cells when they are exposed to the Untempered Schism as adolescents. A WarLord, on the other hand, has a body flooded with nannites which can, in the event of fatal injury or disease, completely rewrite the DNA of their host, creating a new body from the remains of the old. Feral Mutants simply heal, at different rates and with greater or lesser degrees of success. The creatures known on Earth as Phoenixes or Simorghs instinctively use regeneration energy drawn from their natural link to the Vortex to reverse their ageing process.

For Harry Potter, known as The Seeker, the process was a hybrid one. His body was full of Borg nanoprobes which had been reprogrammed by The Doctor. The nanoprobes had assimilated the Phoenix feather which had been the core of his original wand, flooding his cells with regeneration energy and linking him to the Vortex. Later exposure to the Untempered Schism had strengthened these links and provided more regeneration energy. But Harry was at base, Human, not Shobogan. He had only one heart and his physiology was not as sturdy as that of the natives of Gallifrey. The Aeldari gene markers that made him a wizard slowed his natural ageing process, certainly, but did not make him more robust. It was only the enhancements made by the Borg technology that allowed him to survive the process at all, and there was a cost. After each regeneration, he needed to sleep while the nanoprobes recharged themselves from the Vortex. Usually, the sleep was dreamless, but this time – perhaps because there were still traces of the Truthsayer drug in his system – Harry dreamed.

It might have been the old Great Hall, but the banners hung around it were all different, but somehow familiar. Ancient war-flags, mostly slashed and bloodstained. As Harry looked at them, names floated through his mind: Imrryr, Lwym-an-Esh, Arnor, Koln, Ferelden, Loos Ptokai, Palaven, Macragge, Svalbard and many more. Names Harry didn't recognise, for the most part, but which were all heavy with meaning, if only he could recall….

"Harry?" The voice interrupted his thoughts. British, male, educated, accent like Hermiones'. The man in front of him was tall and well-built, clad in a silk suit, shirt and tie. His handsome face had Caucasian features, but was ebony black, the long hair snow-white.

"Hi, Harry!" He said. "I'm Jerry Cornelius. We've met before, but you won't remember…?"

"I do now." Harry told him. "Years ago, during the Blackstone Case. You needed me to pass on an extra soul I'd left lying about?"

"Yes, you could put it like that." Cornelius replied. "Look, there are people here who want to speak to you, and we don't have a lot of time."

Harry now noticed that the four tables he had expected had been replaced by a single one, around which people were sitting. Cornelius took his arm and led him forward.

"Pardon me saying so." Harry remarked. "But you do look a bit different from the last time I saw you."

"A bit negative, you mean?" Cornelius chuckled. "It happens sometimes. Goes with the job. You look different yourself, you know!"

He guided Harry to a seat, then sat down beside him.

"Well met, My Lord Seeker." Said a quiet voice rom the head of the table. The man sitting there wore a buff-coloured tunic, his face was thin, the skin pale. Long, red-gold hair was held back by a blue circlet. His almond-shaped eyes were milky-coloured, and Harry realised he was blind. Beside him sat another man, identical in dress and appearance, except that his eyes were keen and full of intelligence.

"I am the Captain," the blind man said, "this is my brother, the Steersman. We have brought you here so that you can in some measure understand what is being asked of you."

"You want me to become the Eternal Champion again?" Harry asked.

The Captain shook his head. "No. The Eternal Champion is a sign, if not the cause, of the wounds my brother and I have long sought to heal. The Multiverse is flawed, My Lord Seeker, flawed from its' beginning, because it was never meant to be."

"Come again?" Harry said. "Never meant to be? Are you telling me that after all these years, it was the Cock-Up Theory that was right after all?"

The Steersman gave a hoot of laughter, then began to watch Harry even more intensely than before.

"You are pleased to jest, My Lord Seeker." The Captain said. "Yet in doing so you strike close to the gold.

"Once, I will not say long ago because Time is irrelevant here, there was but one plane of existence, the Omniverse, and it contained All that Was, Is and Might Be. It was ruled by four brothers. Eldest and wisest was Nodens, next was Mana-Yood-Sushai, the Shaper, then Kib, the Sender of Life and last Sish, Destroyer of Hours. For reasons we cannot know, Mana-Yood-Sushai, Kib and Sish created the originals of what we now call the Infinity Stones, but Nodens refused to take part in this, and because of that, when the Stones were first used, the Omniverse was shattered, and all of its infinite possibilities became separated into single Universes, that interwove to form the Multiverse. The Brothers were shattered with it, and scattered into every Universe. Of them all, only Nodens, Lord of the Abyss, retains his memory and sanity. In their madness, the others have been given different names: Mana-Yood-Sushai is now Azathoth, Kib is called Nyarlathotep and Sish Yog-Sothoth."

"The Other Gods?" Harry thought for a moment, then. "So that's why we don't understand them! What about Lloigor, Shub-Niggurath and the rest?"

"They are also shattered survivors of the Omniverse – the children, wives and servants of the Brothers." The Captain replied. "Also, they are not truly Gods. Gods are formed by the needs and desires of intelligent beings, working on the subtle energies of the Vortex that both separates the Universes and binds them together. Sometimes these Gods are no more than images or puppets, reflecting the thoughts of their devotees. Often, though, some being of power, or one of the Other Gods, will replace the created God and impose its' own desires or agendas upon the worshippers."

"The Vorlons and Shadows were good at that!" Harry noted. "So where the Goa'ould and the Division. But what's this got to do with me?"

The Captain shrugged. "In and of itself, very little, except that a series of events have brought your Universe to a tipping point. The conflict between Law and Chaos has been fought across many Universes, and many powerful entities and artefacts have been created by, or become involved in it. The Eternal Champion, his Companion and his Consort, the Black Swords, the Runestaff, the Black Jewel, the Cosmic Balance, the Doctor, the Master and many pantheons of Gods.

"But then came the Conjunction of the Million Spheres. In that moment, many things occurred. Two ancient Beings left the Multiverse for the Vortex, and in their place came two others out of the Vortex. Two who came to feed, to devour the Multiverse. In order to defeat them, four aspects of the Eternal Champion were brought together. In that battle, the Multiverse was destroyed and remade, and with it went the Gods. Then Hawkmoon and Erekose came to Tanelorn and contrived to destroy the Cosmic Balance, the Runestaff, the Black Jewel and one of the Black Swords, though Erekose gave his life in the doing of it. Without those artefacts to manipulate or be manipulated by, the Eternal Champion was able to give up its existence at last.

"This new Multiverse is even now spawning new Gods, as the beings that live in it search for meaning and purpose. So our task is not yet complete. But this Universe, your Universe, My Lord Seeker, is unique!"

"Is it now?" Harry said. "In what way, apart from the fact it's the only one that has me in it?"

The Steersman chuckled again, and winked at Harry, but it was Cornelius who answered.

"That's one thing, Harry, and I'll come to that in a minute." He said. "But first, you know about the different Realms, yes?"

Harry nodded. "The Mundane Realm, the one I live in. The Realms of Law, Chaos and Balance, or Heaven, Hell and Limbo. The Nevernever, which is the Dreamlands and the Faelands. They're all separate, and it's not easy to get from one to the other."

"Just so." Cornelius said. "That's one of the unique things here. In most Universes, it's relatively easy to get from Realm to Realm. Not only that, but there are lots of people and beings wanting to get through. Mostly Law and Chaos wanting to get at each others' throats.

"That was happening here until the unheard-of happened – a Lord of Law and a Lord of Chaos became allies. The Azrael, Guardian of the Well of Souls, and Lord Sparda, Warden of the Temen-ni-Gru, both got sick and tired of what their people's war was doing to the inhabitants of the Mundane Realm. So they sealed that Realm off, meaning that Law and Chaos, in order to continue their war, had to invade Balance. The Grey Lords of Balance created the Charred Council to fight the invasion, and forced Law and Chaos to sign a treaty."

"The Seven Seals." Harry said. "The Metatron won't break it, but he's only waiting for Chaos to do so. Chaos has four factions. Lucifer and the Devils are smarter than the others, and don't want a war. Mundus and the Demons aren't very bright, and they're aggressive, but Mundus is scared of Sparda. Sparda is the most brilliant and powerful of the lot, he has an army of Demons and Devils more powerful than the others put together and loyal to him, and he supports the treaty. The Other Gods…who knows? They do whatever it occurs to them to do, but even they can't match Sparda and Lucifer. As to Balance, something happened to the Charred Council, but the Nephilim and the Grey Lords are still there, and so are the Horsemen. Nobody on either side wants to go up against them!"

"Exactly!" Jerry said. "There's nothing threatening in the Nevernever, the Dreamlands aren't real enough and the Fae, Seelie and Unseelie, are bound by their Telling. Which means that the conflict between Law and Chaos in the Mundane Realm is kept on a mundane level. The First Ones, who did take sides in the original war and manipulated the Elder Races, don't any more. The Q left long ago, they were too powerful and knew it. The Vorlons and the Shadows are almost extinct, the travellers are peaceful and the Shobogan, the TimeLords and TimeMages, have their own agendas.

"That brings us to you, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Master of Death, the Eternal Champion, or nearly. It was a simple scenario, really. The Shadows were running Tom Riddle, and the Vorlons should've been running you. Minerva MacGonagall was a Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit and was supposed to be your mentor. She was supposed to train you in secret, send you to get the Elder Wand -which was part of the Black Sword – and you, your Companion and your Consort were supposed to overthrow Voldemorts' Magical Empire when you were about thirty or so."

"But it didn't happen that way." Harry said. "What happened?"

"The Division happened." Cornelius said. "They were afraid of Humans, and thought that Voldemorts' Empire would hold your people back from space travel long enough for the Daleks to find you and wipe you out. They manipulated the timelines so that Voldemort would kill you as a child, but that failed. So they made sure that Dumbledore became the Head of Hogwarts, rather than MacGonagall, so he became your mentor. If his plan had worked, you'd have died in the Forest, sacrificing yourself. They made sure Voldemort got the Elder Wand, even though he couldn't use it and it would've killed him eventually. They also meddled with Ororo and Logans' timelines so that Rose would be too young to be your Consort – that part worked, for all the good it did them!"

"But that wasn't all!" Harry protested. "I didn't die as a child, or as a teenager, because I wasn't just me. I was the Deacon as well. It was his regeneration energy that saved me both times. How come the Division didn't realise that?"

"That was my doing." The voice was clear, but not loud, as if it came from a distance. The speaker was sitting at the far end of the table, and Harry had barely noticed him. Looking squarely at him now, Harry realised that he was not physically present, but a projection, whether psychic or technological, Harry couldn't tell. The figure was very large, or at least the golden armour it wore was. Within the open visor of the helmet there was no face, but simply a skull. A skull with the ivory patina of aged bone. The left eye socket was empty, but the right held a golden eye that blazed with a febrile light.

"Now who," Harry wanted to know, "Might you be?"

XXXX

It had taken years, five to be exact, but Gaius Helen Mohiam had known it would. She had had to return to the Enclave several times, most notably to test the humanity of young Paul Atreides, a boy who should never have been born. Damn you, Jessica! She thought, but then recalled the look in her daughters' eyes when she spoke and thought of her Duke. Oh my poor child! If I had felt as you do, would I have done differently? But the Ring she wore sustained her in a remarkable way, and the Masters' TARDIS ship allowed her to return almost as soon as she had left.

But now, finally, she stood on the threshold of success. A success that was still years, even decades, away, but one that would serve all their aims. The ideology she had created and used the remains of the Missionaria Protectiva to begin to spread was taking hold, little by little. It was a clever thing, based on the philosophy of Nietzsche. The concept of the 'Overman', the perfected human, superhuman or transhuman, free of restraint and morality, acting only on his own Will. She had built on that philosophy, aided by those who recalled the Eugenics Wars and believed that the wrong side had won. There were also those who followed Noonian Soong in believing that the future of humanity lay not in organic Man, but in his artificially-intelligent, transhuman creations. The whisper was that the egalitarian rules of the UEA and the Federation were holding back Humanity, encouraging conformity and mediocrity. The blame was being laid at the door of the Vulcans and the exhausted Human stock of Old Earth; both fearful that the vigorous, younger strain of Humanity bred in the colonies would overcome them.

Then had come the surprise. The contacts made to her agents by representatives of an older, more established group who held those same beliefs. They called themselves HYDRA. A name that had sent her back to the Bene Gesserit archives on Wallach IX to discover a long history of subversion, victory and defeat, but above all, survival! More investigation showed that HYDRA was wealthy and influential, and had become as patient and pragmatic as the Sisterhood in pursuing their aims.

There had been barriers to overcome, caution and suspicion on both sides, but a meeting had been agreed. The Reverend Mother waited in an anteroom, in a few moments she would be face to face with the leader of HYDRA, Jack Harper, also known as the Illusive Man.

The laconic secretary returned. "You can go in." She said. The reverend Mother was glad to get away from her. There was something profoundly disturbing in the womans' stillness, her lack of expression, her functional, economical movements. Nothing for a Bene Gesserit to read. If she were to attack, Mohiam would not be able to read her intention beforehand. For a moment, she wondered if the secretary might be some kind of construct, a cyborg, or worse, an android. How far will HYDRA go? She wondered. Never mind, she needed them. Once she was in control, she could cleanse such abominations.

The Illusive Man stood to greet her. He was tall, broad-shouldered and powerful-looking. His face was handsome, with thick dark hair and even features. But his eyes were unusual, an odd light blue. As she came closer, she realised that they were cybernetic, and wondered how he had lost his own eyes – there were no scars. Had he had them replaced voluntarily? If so, what could the implants see that human eyes could not?

"Reverend Mother." The voice was a smooth tenor.

"Mr Harper." She replied. "Good to meet you at last. I take it your investigations into me, and those I represent, yielded satisfactory results?"

He gestured her to a chair. "Satisfactory enough for me to meet you in person." He said, moving over to a side table. "I rarely do so. Even with my own people, I prefer to communicate remotely, via holosuite."

"Why the exception in my case?" She asked.

He came back over, handing her a cup of coffee. "Firstly, so that I can be sure our communication cannot be overheard or intercepted. Secondly, at this point, neither of us has anything to gain from killing the other."

As he went to sit behind his desk, Mohiam lifted the cup to her face, confirming what her nose had told her as she accepted it. The coffee contained a pinch of melange. A subtle statement of frightening power. For someone outside the Enclave to be able to obtain the spice was remarkable enough, but to then casually put it into coffee hinted at unguessed resources!

"So, Reverend Mother, why are you so interested in destabilising the Federation?" The Illusive Man asked.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" She asked. "I might, after all, only be attempting to bring my beliefs to the people of this benighted Galaxy?"

He sighed. "If you are not as prepared to respect me as I am to respect you, then we are both wasting our time." He pointed out. "HYDRA has encountered the Bene Gesserit in the past, Reverend Mother. We know your aims and your philosophy as well as you know ours.

"People cannot be trusted with freedom, we agree on that. But while we at HYDRA strive to create the conditions in which superior Humans can arise naturally from the mob, you take a different path. Your breeding programme is designed to create a small elite of intelligent, physically superior Humans while at the same time ensuring that the mass of people remain simple and docile. The aim is the same, the methods differ.

"But the message your Missionaria Protectiva is spreading is more akin to ours than yours. It's also lacking your usual deeply anti-tech bias.

"So, I ask again, why do you wish to destabilise the Federation?"

She shrugged. "Self-preservation. Jehanne Butler was naïve enough to believe that United Earth would keep their word and leave the Enclave alone. Indeed, when United Earth was all there was, she might have been correct in doing so. But now, things are different. Now, the Federation see a cluster of Human worlds which are not part of the UEA, but for which they hold the UEA responsible.

"This would matter little if there were not those within the Enclave who seek profit outside it. But the Ecazians, the Ixians, the Bene Tleilax, all have things to sell which people here will buy. Drugs, both recreational and medical. Machines which are different from your technology. Twisted Mentats, Face Dancers and pliant sex toys. The Spacing Guild, for a price, is willing to transport such things to the borders. It is a situation which the Federation law-makers will find intolerable and sooner or later, they will force Humanitys' hand. The Enclave has no power to match StarFleet.

"But if we separate Humanity from the Federation, it will not matter. Those among us who deal beyond the Enclave will not deal with the Xenos – why would they? We have nothing to offer them, and we want nothing they have. We will be safe."

Just enough of the truth to make it convincing. The Illusive Man thought. Yes, there is smuggling across the border, but it's the other way! People in the Enclave are hungry for what we can produce here.

The old woman thinks we don't know how the Bene Gesserit are struggling. That we are unaware that the exhausted bloodlines of the enclave can never produce their Kwistatz Haderach. That they need to regain access and control here to achieve their aim!

"Well, that makes sense." He said aloud. "So given that we of HYDRA also wish to separate Humanity from the Xenos, you wish to propose an alliance?"

"Not as such." She replied. Kull Wahad! Does he take me for a fool? Under the guise of an alliance, HYDRA would absorb the Sisterhood and turn the enclave into a power-base! "More a temporary arrangement whereby assets and intelligence can be shared. Our aim is the same, our methods differ, but if we agree to deploy our agents where yours wouldn't succeed, and yours where ours would fail, we would increase our chances of success in the long term."

The Illusive Man nodded. "Then it seems an accord is possible." He allowed. "What would you need from me?"

She had him now. The power of the Ring she wore was subtler than the Voice, but in the end far more effective. This was why the face-to-face meeting had been necessary.

"The command codes for all HYDRA functions, and the identities, roles and missions of all your agents, Galaxy-wide." She commanded.

The Illusive Man typed a complex code into the PADD that lay in front of him. There was the shimmer of a Transporter field on the desk, and a data crystal appeared.

"Thank you!" This was a new voice, a pleasant tenor underlaid with the iron of command. Mohiam spun in her chair. Four people had entered the room. A hulking Klingon, a man in Psi-Corps white, a woman in grey and, in the lead, a tall, slender, olive-skinned man with dark hair and light eyes. It was he who spoke.

"Please don't try anything, Reverend Mother. Even that Ring of yours couldn't dominate any of us before M'Tok here killed you!"

He stepped past her and picked up the data crystal. "We've been after this for years." He remarked. "We really owe you a great deal, Reverend Mother. Not only have you compromised your entire Bene Gesserit network, but you got us into HYDRA HQ!"

With Mohiams' concentration broken, the Illusive Man had come back to himself. Now he spoke.

"How? We made sure she couldn't be followed!"

"That Ring." The tall man said. "It has a unique energy signature, Jack. We haven't been following her, we've always known exactly where she was. But when she set off for this place – an abandoned StarBase orbiting a dying sun – well, we knew something special was afoot. Your concealment was always dependent on the fact that not even your own people knew where this place was, and that those few who do come here do so by remote-programmed Transporter.

"But your need for secrecy precludes you having anything but the lightest defences. Once our Psykers knew why the Reverend Mother was coming here, the rest was, as they say, a piece of cake!"

The Illusive Man shook his head, rising and beginning to pace around. "You were always the brightest one in the room, Julian! My best and most respected adversary. Such a pity you've never risen to the heights your abilities deserve. You would have done so much better in HYDRA. Unfortu…"

He was cut short by a phaser bolt that burned a hole in his chest and slammed him back against the wall behind him. He slid down to lie like a rag doll.

"My apologies." M'tok said. "There was a hidden Transporter pad under that floor panel. He was about beam out."

"That's why you're here, M'tok." The man called Julian said. "We couldn't have kept him prisoner, not without a trial, which would have caused far too much trouble. He knew that, but he also wanted to get away and lock down the system before we could access it.

"Did you get everything, Lieutenant Shaw?"

The Psyker nodded. "With that key and the codes I pulled out of his head, we can access all of HYDRAs' systems. We can shut them down for good!"

"Excellent!" Julian replied. "Commodore Rogers, I will leave that to the Rangers. My Section doesn't have the manpower.

"Besides, we have to deal with the Bene Gesserit. The Reverend Mother has been good enough to show us where and who they are, so we can't let all her hard work go to waste!"

The tall, blonde woman in grey took the key. "We'll get started." She said. She turned to go, the Psyker following her. Julian turned to Mohiam.

"I'm sure you've realised by now that your Ring isn't working on me. We've analysed its' emissions and effects rather thoroughly. It wasn't hard to come up with counter-measures. I'll take it now, you won't need it any more."

"What makes you think I'll let you take it?" She asked.

"Hand it over!" He barked, and she did so before she could stop herself. She had never seen such mastery of the Voice! She stared at him, and was suddenly in the grip of adab, the demanding memory. His features, his build, stance, voice, the bones of his face, the shape of his hands. Not possible! She thought. We saved them all!

"Who are you?" She asked him.

"Julian Subatoi Bashir-Atreides." He told her. "Only my family haven't used the full name since the Jihad. We guessed a long time ago that somebody was trying to manipulate us, so when the Sisterhood -only we didn't know it was you – scooped most of us up to take to the Enclave, some of us hid from you and stayed behind.

"I'm only now finding out what you've done to my relatives, Reverend Mother. So now I'm taking this Ring because without it your Master won't be able to find you. We'll send you back to Wallach IX – yes, we know where it is – with a message for your sisters.

"Don't push too far or too hard – or there will be a reckoning!"

XXXXX

"Who might I be?" The projection answered Harry. "I might be, or might have been, many things. The image you see before you, however, is the pitiful remnant of the God-Emperor of Mankind, which I am projecting back through time from your 41st millennium."

"From the future?" Harry said. "Wait a minute? That's dodgy at best! How do you know you've got the right past?"

"Because I am travelling along my own timeline." The Emperor replied. "That is dangerous to do physically, but this is only a projection, so I can have no real effect. Anything that results from this meeting will be because of your decisions and deeds, Harry Potter!"

"So you're alive now?" Harry said. "As who? Me?"

"No." The Emperor assured him. "I was born in Akkaba in 2058 BCE and abandoned as deformed by my parents. I was found and raised by Baal of the Crimson Sands, a chieftain of the Sandstormers, who adopted me and named me En-Sabah-Nur, 'The Morning Light'. By the time you were born, Harry, I had taken another name…"

"Apocalypse!" Harry said. "The First Mutant. My friends in the X-Men said you were a menace, a worse threat than Magneto!"

"I cannot blame them for that, for it was true." Apocalypse allowed. "My obsession with the survival of the fittest led me down dark paths, Harry, I'll not deny it. But in the end, I saw the folly of it all. Thanos, the High Evolutionary, Magneto, Sebastian Shaw, Tom Riddle, Davros, the Kree, the Skrulls, the Shadows. All had the same dream, Harry, and all fell, sooner or later, into madness, because it could not be accomplished.

"So I sought another path, the path of unity. For millennia, I worked in secret to unify Humanity, and finally, as a last resort, I rose up and became the Emperor of Mankind. In vain, because my imposition of Law on Humanity allowed the repressed impulses of Chaos to grow in the Vortex and eventually break through in the forms of new Chaos Gods, Gods possessed and further empowered by the Other Gods. They turned some even of my own sons against me. I defeated them, but was so wounded that I had to be placed within a life-support system. My Golden Throne. There I have stayed for millennia, worshipped as a God while men do dreadful things in my name. My body has decayed, and my mind is kept alive only by the deaths of thousand of Psykers. But only my will restrains the Other Gods from breaking loose entirely. All across the Universe, Harry, in the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war!"

"Oh, wonderful!" Harry said. "Am I supposed to stop that?"

"No." Apocalypse said. "But if you accept your role, Harry Potter, as King of Men, then that war will never start!"

"Come again?" Harry said.

"As Emperor," Apocalypse said, "I ruled. That was the error. As King, you may reign, but not rule. A symbol of justice, courage, kindness and wisdom, virtues to which all men can aspire. A concept that will unite Humanity while leaving the differing peoples free to pursue their own paths. Many paths to the same goal. A balance between Chaos and Law that will give no power to the creatures of the Vortex.

"You must do as I did and create your Primarchs. But your Adeptus Astartes will be what I only wished mine could be. Knights of honour, defenders of the weak, righters of wrongs, exemplars of the best of Humanity. You can succeed where I failed."

"And you'll cease to exist." Harry pointed out. "Am I supposed to believe you want to die?"

"I will never have existed, at least as I am now!" Apocalypse said. "I have already warned my younger self. He stands ready to pledge his allegiance and serve you.

"Should you refuse the choice, I shall die anyway. Soon now, the ones called Sapphire and Steel will come and the Golden Throne will be broken. Then I shall emerge into the Vortex to do battle with the Other Gods and drive them back to Kadath at the cost of my own existence. But their minions will remain and the war in the Mundane Realm will never end.

"I do not wish to die in the knowledge of failure, Harry. I want the chance to live a different life, even if I am not aware of the alternative!

"But in the end, the decision must be yours."

And Harry woke….