Summary: When Harry made up his mind to do anything to destroy Voldemort, he had no idea it would include werewolves, elves, the Veil, the Chamber of Secrets, wandless magic, Azkaban, unimaginable power, his own army, and… a secret identity?
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, leave me alone.
Only this time, he didn't stop by the prophesies, this time, Harry Potter found himself less then a foot away from the veil...
Chapter 5: Information Overload
"Harry stop!" Dumbledore's voice echoed somewhere in his head.
He tried to concentrate on it, pulling himself into reality, or trying to. Harry felt as if he were being ripped apart, one side of him wanted to keep going, obeying the command that the mirror was sending to him, the other half tried to stop. It was the strangest thing he had ever felt, and that was saying something, like he was two people instead of one. With the Imperius Curse, he had been arguing with himself. This time it was more so two parts fighting themselves, but he was both parts, and both parts were getting tired, weakening themselves in the ongoing war inside him, weakening him.
Then, it stopped. His vision was very blurred and slowly coming into focus, and he became mildly aware that someone was shaking him. But who? Long beard, half-moon glasses… oh yeah, Dumbledore. He looked uneasy. I wonder if that's a first. He still doesn't look panicked, never does. Harry dropped the mirror, its temperature felt soft and serene compared to the scorching heat from earlier on. A rush of cold air hit him, and all the heat that had radiated through him seemed to leave, forcing him into a shock wave of convulsion and tremors.
"H… Harry?" it was Lupin who spoke this time.
Why was he kneeling on the floor? It was only then that Harry realized he was kneeling as well.
"I… I'm okay…" Harry stuttered rather unconvincingly, "What a day this is turning out to be, huh. Ha, ha, ha… ouch!"
Dumbledore had grabbed him and pulled him roughly to his feet, Harry felt extremely dizzy as he stood. His day was definitely not over yet.
"Come, quickly, before Voldemort manages to possess you again." Dumbledore said hurriedly while turning his pocket watch into a portkey.
"Voldemort? But that…" before Harry could finish his sentence, he felt an all too familiar jerk on his naval as he, Lupin, Dumbledore, and Elaina were thrown into a void of swirling colors, only to land in one of his least favorite places.
Yep, you guessed correctly. The foursome found themselves in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place. And upon seeing a pale but strangely calm and extremely annoyed Harry, a frightened werewolf, a confused ministry employee, and a much perplexed (but as usual never panicky) Dumbledore; needless to say, Molly Weasley immediately went into 'motherly-panic-mode'.
"What happened! Harry, you look pale, dear. Sit down. I knew something like this would happen! Tea, Harry dear? I thought you of all people, Albus, would be able to stop incidents like these, but no… What did happen by the way?"
Dumbledore paused before saying something Harry really wished he hadn't, "Harry was possessed by Lord Voldemort who tried to force him to walk through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries."
Just as expected, panic broke out among the Order members gathered around the huge dining table. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins who were there as well were among those all started talking frantically at once.
"But… I… it's not what you… can't you just… is anyone even paying attention to me?" Harry tried to get others to listen to him but to no avail.
Harry soon tired of trying, his head was still spinning and the talking all seemed to blend together into a sea of pointless noise. And he was drowning in it. As the noise started to numb his brain and put his train of thought to a screeching halt, he found he had no choice but to attempt to do what had worked so well at the trial earlier that day…
"I WAS NOT POSSESSED BY LORD VOLDEMORT!"
A very loud silence and much twitching followed that statement. Harry felt incredibly self-conscious as he struggled to get over the shock of the immediate silence that had hit him as hard as a minor stunning spell normally would have.
"Then who else do you suggest forced you to nearly kill yourself?" Dumbledore asked skeptically, straightening his glasses in what Harry assumed was supposed to be a very wise manner.
"Not Voldemort," Harry answered recovering immediately and straightening his own glasses out of spite, "when he possesses me, I can tell."
"Then how…?"
"I'm not sure," Harry cut the Headmaster off before he could begin interrogating him, "but I know it has something to do with this."
Harry held up the mirror. It had cooled down and glinted eerily in the candlelight, leaving Harry to wish fervently that wizards knew more about electricity then what was taught in Muggle Studies.
"Then get rid of it, quickly," Snape replied in his usual manner, looking at Harry as if he had just missed the most obvious point in the world.
"No!" said Harry, pulling it towards him, "It was only trying to help, it didn't know it was…"
He stopped short as he noticed everyone was staring at him… again. What is so interesting about me anyway Harry thought to himself as he bit his lip in annoyance with his new-found tendency to say exactly what he was thinking. Hell, even he didn't know he was thinking that until he had said it. What was wrong with him?
"You and I will discuss those matters later," Dumbledore cut into the quiet, "For now, the meeting must proceed."
"And we're allowed in it?" asked Ron in disbelief.
"Just this once will be OK," answered Dumbledore, "Now…"
"Before we go off inviting Potter to… meetings, don't you think I'd be best to make sure he has mastered Occlumency first?" said Snape interrupted menacingly before Dumbledore could go on.
The Headmaster looked ready to either agree or contradict Snape, no one could tell (then again, it's always hard to tell what Dumbledore's thinking), when Harry broke in, "I can do Occlumency fine!"
"Yeah, sure," Snape retorted with a silky sneer, "How many times have you said that, and how many more Order members are going to die because of it?"
"Severus…" Dumbledore warned.
But Snape paid no heed, his eyes glinted forebodingly and a sneer crossed his face as he glared at Harry with tremendous amounts of loathing.
"You think you're so good? Block this!"
Snape sent a very strong Legilimens charm Harry's way, but this time, Harry was ready. He had practiced in his own way how to block people from his mind. The spell had no effect whatsoever on him no matter how hard Snape tried. Harry, furious, had to resist all temptation to throw his mind into Snape's, get the most embarrassing memory he had, and use it as blackmail. He, to the astonishment of himself, found himself secretly curious as to whether or not his dad had removed Snape's boxers that one time…
Then, Harry accidentally put too much power into blocking the curse and sent Snape reeling against the wall. Everyone, including Dumbledore and Snape, were staring at him in amazement. This, he thought, cannot be good…
"How did you do that?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.
"I really wish she hadn't asked that," Harry thought, shoveling his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from messing with his hair (a nervous habit he'd required for some odd reason). Not only would Lupin probably suspect something, but Snape would most likely never let him live it down. "Then again, someone would have. At least there wasn't that long silence this time… I wish I had my wand to blame this on, but it's in the backpack. If only I had it… hey!"
Harry's wand had suddenly appeared in his pocket, and he withdrew it in stunned awe.
"I guess I just unintentionally channeled the magic through my wand, I was making contact with it through a hole in the pocket of my jeans." Harry lied (though not about the hole on the inside of his pocket), all the while thinking, "Yeah right Potter, like you need a wand to channel magic through. How do I lie like that? Hopefully no one will be too suspicious and merely believe I can just do magic without an incantation…"
"Didn't you block that hex in the Department of Mysteries," asked Elaina, looking just a little less confused, but confused none the less, "the one Dumbledore sent your way?"
"It was the mirror," Harry fudged yet again, "I'm not sure why but…"
"What I am impressed about, more so then the fact you don't need an incantation to do magic, something I have suspected for quite a time now, is the fact you know the main idea of magic." Dumbledore interrupted, looking around at those around him. "The idea that you need to channel it from places, for magic is everywhere. You also seem well aware that to channel the magic, you must posses an instrument in which to channel it through, and though it would have been easier to hold that instrument, it appears you were able to, by merely touching it, make it work for you."
"It only happens when I'm really mad," Harry explained his case, "that's the only time I'm able to draw magic to myself."
"To yourself," Ron interrupted, "I thought you draw it to your wand?"
"On the contraire, Mr. Weasley, the magic comes through your wand and in to you, then back out again. The more powerful you are, the more magic you can draw into yourself. This is all a very complex, and very new, theory, and is currently being studied in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore took it upon himself to inform them.
"And wandless magic…" Hermione questioned.
Harry, suddenly, as if fueled with strong caffeine, had grown restless, and tired of forcing the meeting to be even more so belated, immediately spoke up before the Headmaster could get a word in edgewise. "Wizards can only do wandless magic when they have ultimately gained so much power they can channel magic through themselves without need of any type of instrument in which to channel it through."
He said it all so quickly everyone stared in shock. Hermione looked to Dumbledore for conformation, and, in the brief glance she gave, he understood and nodded his head.
"What about when you let loose a boa constrictor on your cousin?" asked Ron, "You didn't have a wand then."
Once again, Harry found himself the objective of many a stare "I can speak parseltounge, hello," Harry teased, "complained about Dudley to it and when this guy went in to feed it, it escaped and gave him a scare for me, then it headed of to Brazil or something."
Everyone finally looked as though they understood, in a strange, confused sort of way. Harry remembered how long it had taken him to put all the pieces together. He had, after all, gotten in trouble for the wandless magic he had done in his third year. But that had been the Muggle protection laws. Living with a wizard, the Dursley's were an exception, but Aunt Marge was defiantly not. After Ministry wizards arrived and discovered Harry missing, everyone broke into such a frenzy, nobody bothered to notice the only underage magic he did that was recorded was a simple 'Lumos' charm, or so Harry figured. The reason he had gotten in trouble in his second year was easier to figure out. A quick note to Dobby was all it took to discover that the sneaky little elf had used the power of his wand mixed with a bit of elf magic for the main purpose of getting him expelled. He also learned exactly how long Dobby had stuck his fingers in the oven after the pudding episode. 'Some house elves,' he thought, 'need serious therapy.'
"Well then," Molly Weasley stood up, "now that we have that little confusion cleared up, why not have something to eat. It's past 2 o'clock and I don't believe Harry has had a decent lunch as of yet."
"But… the meeting," Harry cut in. He could go without food (he did live with the Dursley's after all), but right now he felt as though he couldn't go another moment without having his questions answered.
"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "you must eat something. I'm getting a feeling you haven't been as interested in food lately as you should be."
Harry groaned, but he knew Dumbledore was right. He thought back to his breakfast… nothing. Maybe food wouldn't be that bad. A few people got up to help Mrs. Weasley get some food on the table, and soon everyone was eating and talking. Harry soon found random people had taken it upon themselves to serve him, and his plate was overflowing with mountains of sandwiches, potatoes, fish, chips… 'And practically everything but the kitchen sink,' thought Harry as he stared down at his plate contemplating just exactly why he could lie so well. It felt so wrong, and he wanted to tell someone, or at least his subconscious him wanted to. Or maybe it didn't. Or maybe…
"Oh what the heck," Harry mused, "I'll figure this all out eventually. For now, no one has to know any of what's happening to me."
"There you go again," whispered a little voice inside his head, "thinking you know exactly what you're doing. Thinking you're smart enough to handle everything…"
"Shut up." He thought back to himself.
"…When you know you're nothing but a weapon. A rather malfunctioning one at that, I must say. Couldn't even stop some pathetic nine-fingered wimp from turning that disgusting deformed baby into a killing machine…"
"Shut up." If Harry had been speaking, his voice would have sounded quite downtrodden.
"…And don't tell me you've forgotten what REALLY happened in the chamber of secrets, you know, after you practically gave Riddle your wand…"
"I said, err… thought… shut up…"
"…Not to mention you killed your godfather…"
"Can't I leave myself alone for one bloody second…?" Harry mumbled as he unconsciously played with his food, stabbing at it rather dynamically.
Seeing as Ron and Hermione, where looking at him worriedly, though obviously trying to give him space, Harry managed a weak smile and a small bite of a club sandwich. It tasted dry in his mouth and stuck to his throat, so he quickly swallowed some water and observed those around him, trying to get his mind off things.
Dumbledore was talking to a group of people about who knows what. Fred and George were talking animatedly to Bill and Charlie along with some others about Quidditch; Ginny was trying to butt in. Lupin and a few others were laughing about something Elaina had just said, and Moody was eyeing her suspiciously. Everyone else was just talking to each other and eating, all, if only for a moment, forgetting about the meeting, forgetting about Death Eaters, maybe even forgetting about Voldemort. But Harry couldn't forget. The feeling tugged on his mind at all times. He wished he had his broom so he could just fly away from it all; curse that law banning flying in Muggle areas during the daytime.
Suddenly, the Headmaster cleared his throat and everyone looked up, memories of what was yet to arrive coming back to each of them.
With a swift, almost anxious glance at Harry's still full plate, Albus Dumbledore stood up and began the meeting. "Welcome everyone, to this gathering of the Order of the Phoenix. I would first like to introduce our newest member, Elaina Lafina."
There was a scattered clapping before Moody asked with vigor, "Has she been interrogated?"
"No," replied Dumbledore as if it were the simplest matter in the world.
Many an Order member raised their eyebrows.
"Why," asked Moody, "have you just let someone in without thorough interrogation with Veritaserum and…"
"I have my reasons," replied Dumbledore. "Now Harry, is there anything you would like to ask before we discuss that little mirror mishap and inform Miss Lafina of all the goings on around here?"
"Yes, actually, what's he up to." Harry asked, looking Dumbledore straight in the eye, "I know he's up to something. He's been up to it since last year, at first I thought it was the prophecy, but it's not. Because he was still searching for it even after the prophecy was destroyed. S… Sirius mentioned it a long time ago, 'a weapon, something he can only get be stealth,' he said. If the prophecy wasn't the weapon, what is? What is he still searching for after all this time?"
Elaina leaned forward in her seat expectantly, as did Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The rest of the Order started whispering to one another till the room was buzzing loudly as a beehive normally would have. The Headmaster, ignoring Kingsley Shacklebolt's attempts at communication with him, appeared to be deep in thought.
"I guess there's no hiding it from you any longer," said Dumbledore suddenly, startling everyone. "Perhaps there never was a reason to hide it from you. Perhaps there was, for reasons not yet explained. Perhaps that reason has passed. Perhaps it has not. Only time will truly tell." He cleared his throat, "There is a book, a book of spells, potions, and other ancient forms of magic little known throughout history, and completely forgotten in the precious cycle of age. The book is rumored to be as ancient as time itself, and was supposedly written be the most conversant, powerful wizards and witches in history who wrote it to be used for the power of good.
But now it is hidden, for though a useful tool in the hands of the forces of love, in the hands of the forces of evil, it did not fare well at all. When the book was recovered and brought back to the Light, so many innocents were left dead, that those in charge of it hid it away. Currently, no one knows where it is. Voldemort has been looking for it since a few years before his first downfall. It was no threat back then, but this time we have justification to believe he has gained new knowledge of it's whereabouts.
Now we must find that book before he does. And believe me, we have searched everywhere. But still we cannot find it. However, we suspect it lies somewhere in South America."
"Well at least you have an idea where it is," Hermione said softy, as if in awe of the idea of so much information hidden away from her curious mind.
"If only the Dark Lord didn't know that as well," Snape replied sarcastically.
"And if only the whole blasted continent wasn't so damn large," Moody added gruffly to the Potion's Professor's comment.
Apparently sarcasm is contagious, for Tonk's added in a very annoyed sounding, "Don't be too cheerful about the situation, guys. You may end up giving everyone false hope."
"That is enough Nymphadora," Tonk's eye twitched at the mention of her first name, "Is that all you would like to know Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore questioned Harry.
Harry was going to reply 'yes' then decided against it, "No. No, that is not all I wish to know. I want to know the rest of the prophecy."
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore replied calmly.
"You said it said how to kill me. What I heard of it, it said nothing of the sort." Harry answered, "So tell me. What will be my downfall if Voldemort wins this little battle for justice… or the world… or whatever we're fighting for?"
"The prophecy… but wasn't it destroyed," Hermione asked looking from Harry to Dumbledore as if watching a tennis match.
"Excuse us for a moment," was all Dumbledore said in response to the gaping Order members.
With that, the old wizard got up, walked over to Harry, pointed his wand upward, and muttered an incantation. Immediately a dark-blue transparent dome swept over them blocking out all sound in the room, and hiding them almost completely except for their shadows.
"I guess you can know now," he said, all the while conjuring a chair for himself and turning Harry's chair to face him using his wand.
"And why," asked Harry, "did you decide not to tell me this certain part of the prophecy until I brought it upon myself to ask you about it?"
"Because, Mr. Potter, you were in enough pain already that night. In fact you are still in much pain over the ordeal you faced a mere few weeks ago. I did not want to hurt you further."
"So you're saying I'm weak, saying I can't handle it?"
"Harry…"
"When exactly were you planning on telling me anyway? Were you ever? Or were you just going to keep putting it off because I'm too young, or too grief-stricken, or too happy…"
"Harry!" Dumbledore finally snapped, "I have explained my case, now please, tell me how you knew."
"Knew what?"
"That there was a second part to the prophecy."
Harry sighed, "I've told you already. It didn't have the answer about how to kill me, and… I felt there was something missing in it… when I first heard it. But I didn't think much about it then."
"You, child," Harry flinched at being called a child, "have a magnificent intuition. Now answer me this: How did you know Voldemort was planning something?"
"Before I mastered Occlumency over the summer, I could sense him. Enough to know he was looking for something. Can we stop stalling now?"
"We can stop stalling now."
Harry took an intake of breath. His feelings were scattered throughout his mind. Anticipation. Dread. Anger. Resentment. Resolution…
"The prophecy also says this," Dumbledore announced before reciting:
The Dark Lord, if defeated, will be taken by a curse,
The Savior, if defeated, will go in a way much worse,
For if the Savior fails and falls,
They shall be taken by their heart,
The will to go on will die from them,
And after that:
The entire world shall be ripped apart."
Dumbledore then raised his wand and took down the translucent dome he had set around them. Harry just sat there staring blankly, his mind whirling. It wasn't exactly a surprise to hear it, but still…
"Excuse me for a second," Harry said politely as he got out of his chair and promptly walked into a closet.
The Order just looked at each other in silence before hearing a muffled, "Argh!" from inside of the closet.
Harry soon emerged taking some very deep breaths.
"Let me get this straight. Not only, does the fate of the whole damn world rest on my shoulders, which makes the odds for the 'Light' as you call it, bad enough, but all Voldemort has to do to basically conquer everything is get his hands on a book and do something to me he's starting to really get good at." Harry tried to get his thoughts straight, all the information he was trying to process was overwhelming him and bringing his mind into overload.
Harry was angry. And that was pretty much all there was to it. Angry at Dumbledore for keeping so much from him and still labeling him a child, angry at the Order for agreeing with him, angry at the world that rested in the fate of his hands, but most of all he was just seething mad at Voldemort. And why did everything always have to happen to him?
No one else knew what to say, they all just sat in silence.
Ronald Weasley watched his best friend cautiously. Maybe Hermione was right about trying to talk to him; but he'd thought perhaps Harry had just needed some space for a while. He had been pretty depressed after Sirius's death and he'd just had a near-death experience himself, after all. You just don't bring that kind of stuff up in normal conversation, do you?
"Oh well," Ron thought despondently to himself, "looks like just another time where I prove to Hermione how incredibly naïve I am."
He couldn't help thinking how lucky Harry was though. He knows how to impress girls, has tons of cash, and always gets to be in the spotlight. Ron felt a bit guilty about thinking like that though, what did he know? He was only the sidekick…
There was a sudden thud that brought a halt to Ron's thoughts as Harry banged his head against the mirror lying in front of him in frustration. Then, it started happening again. The mirror was glowing. Harry felt no pull this time though, and then it stopped and became a normal mirror again. At least that's what he thought. Then, looking down at his reflection, he realized it wasn't really his reflection. Sure it looked like him, but the person in the mirror was a few years older, the glasses were definitely not his, the eyes were hazel, and there was something that just wasn't right about the facial features. Harry gasped before exclaiming in a very choked-up kind of voice:
"Dad!"
"Oh thank Merlin I got through to you, I was beginning to worry that the chance of someone answering me was as slim as the chance that Snape and Moldy-Shorts will decide to go metro-sexual on us…"
Next Chapter Includes:
What the hell just happened
The usefulness of Elvin rope
Wisecracks
Overprotective werewolves
Umbridge bashing
Questions/Comments: Email me: (link on my author page)