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A/N: I am back from no-internet-hell and am ready to write again! If you have questions about the story or want to speak with me about it, my Discord server is the best place to get in touch with me. FFN and AO3 DMs are horrid. Links in my profile.
Shoutouts: Thanks to Darkness Enthroned, KitWillow, PotterWithABokken and x102reddragon for their awesome beta work. Check out their stuff!
The Shadow of Death
Chapter 8: A Cut Above the Rest
Harry felt eyes on him from all corners of the Great Hall. His skin tingled and the hair on his arms stood on end. Harry needed to claw their eyes shut, to disappear.
Cool air passed through his nose, filling his lungs. Harry closed his eyes, losing himself in the action.
The young wizard opened his eyes to meet those around him. Most averted their gaze. Others were more obvious in their curiosity.
His stunt with Umbridge had an unexpected side effect. It had made him an overnight celebrity.
Eyes pressed down on him, suffocating him. Harry felt for the invisibility cloak hidden within his school robes.
'Ignore them,' he thought.
The weight remained.
Looking down, Harry pushed his cold food away with an irritable huff and rubbed at his accursed scar.
The faint buzz had escaped his attention the first day. Now the itch was incessant. No amount of scratching or rubbing it relieved him of it.
Harry had run every diagnostic spell he knew on the scar. A trace of dark magic lingered in it. Whatever had been there had been removed long ago.
It was maddening, made worse by his incessant gaggle of followers. They were almost as bad as Black had been at Grimmauld…
No.
That was when it had started. Harry cursed under his breath.
'What is the connection? Are the incidents even connected at all?' Harry clenched his fists.
The answer was just there, on the edge of his mind. His eyes sought out the large doors of the Great Hall, but no answers were forthcoming.
Magic left traces. Whatever had been in his scar had reacted to something, or someone.
He rubbed his scar again.
"You've been doing that a lot, Harry." Luna's soft voice beside him brought him from his reverie. "Your scar. Does it hurt? It looks… angry at something."
Luna cocked her head, her eyes wide, as she reached a hand toward his face. Harry shifted from her. Luna jerked, as if slapped, before she giggled and returned to building a cabin with her green beans.
"No, Luna." He reached out to take a filet of baked fish and a few diced potatoes. "It does not hurt. It has never done this before. I do not know what it is."
Silver eyes looked him over. They were curious, unlike the looks many females sent his way. A shiver went up Harry's spine.
"I can't say I know much about curse scars." She paused to take a bite of chocolate pudding, her face lighting up. "They are rather random in what they do. But it looks angry, odd in a way."
"You've said that twice now, Lovegood." Corner rolled his eyes from across the table. "And as interesting as curse scars are, I'd rather not talk about Harry's face. There's far more interesting things to talk about than his gob."
Luna huffed, her cheeks rosy. "If you're going to talk about Ginny again I'll leave."
"I may leave anyway," Harry retorted before taking a bite of his fish. It was stale against his tongue.
Rolling his brown eyes, Corner pointed his fork down the table.
"I was talking about how that blonde French girl keeps glaring at Harry." Luna leaned around Harry to look at where Corner was pointing. "If looks could kill, you'd be long dead, mate."
Harry glared at the other wizard. Corner had been far too familiar with him. It was improper, even if they were roommates.
"She does look rather cross with you, Harry." Luna sat back in her seat, resuming building her green bean cabin. "Did you happen to spill Erupting Eddiplaus ink on her uniform? It's rather difficult to clean since it resists magic."
The two wizards stared at her incredulously. Well, Corner did. Harry only lifted an eyebrow in her direction.
"You're not going to ask what an Erupting Eatypoos is?" Corner rapped the table with his fork.
Harry glared at him. The other wizard did not shrink under his gaze. He was the only Ravenclaw, discounting Luna, who did not.
"Erupting Eddiplaus, Michael." Luna huffed as her cabin collapsed on itself. "They are small creatures that like to hide in old closets filled with moth balls. If you get too close it defends its nest by erupting in yellow ink. Quite messy."
Opening his mouth, Harry began to reply before he shook his head and closed his mouth. The conversation was giving him a headache.
"I don't think Harry spilled imaginary ink on her, Lovegood." Corner took a bite of his pork chop, his eyes flitting down the table. He shivered. "She looks ready to murder you. Scary bird, that one."
"Then what did you do to her, Harry?" Luna's pale brows were scrunched together.
He chanced a look down the table. Delacour was glaring at him. It was nothing new. Harry speared a potato.
"Nothing," he grunted.
Corner stared at him, his expression flat, and Harry shrugged.
"Perhaps that's why she is mad at you." Luna gave him a meaningful look.
Pushing his plate away, Harry made to stand. Eyes darted to follow his every movement. Harry mumbled under his breath.
"I think I will retire—"
The musical chime of metal on crystal reverberated through the hall. The students stopped speaking and Harry looked up. Dumbledore was standing. With a sigh, he took his seat again.
"I ask for a moment of your time before you all trot off to bed." Dumbledore's words rang through the Great Hall, a smile hidden behind his white whiskers. "I have an announcement to make. This year Hogwarts will host a Yule Ball. Last year's ball was a resounding success. So the staff and I decided to instate it as an annual event! Third years and above will be allowed to attend. It will take place on the last day of term. Thank you."
Excited whispers broke out across the Great Hall and Harry felt his stomach drop. He could feel Delacour's glare down the length of the table.
Harry turned from his chair and exited the Great Hall. Hell itself would freeze over before he would go with her.
He found Dolores Umbridge waiting for him. His expression stayed neutral as he stared at her. The woman lifted her chin, jowls trembling. "Mister Potter, I was just on my way to retrieve you. I feared you had forgotten about your first night of detention."
Harry nodded. He anticipated serving every single one of those detentions. Umbridge's eyes flashed.
"Very well, then. Please, follow me." Umbridge turned on her heel and walked away, Harry following closely.
A gaggle of tittering females exited the Great Hall. They quieted as he looked at them. Soon enough, they blushed and began to whisper about the Yule Ball. Their excited squeals followed him down the hall.
'I am going to kill Dumbledore.' Harry buried his clenched fists in his robes.
The pink toad of a woman led him through the mostly empty halls, her head held high.
The woman's smile turned savage as she opened the door to the Defence classroom. Harry walked in behind her, the smell of cheap perfume offending his nose.
There was a solitary desk sat five feet from her own. A piece of parchment and a red quill sat atop it.
'Perfect,' he thought, taking a seat behind the lone desk.
"You will be writing lines for me, Mister Potter." Umbridge's eyes glinted in the dim firelight. She ran a finger down the red quill. "You will be using one of my special quills tonight. No need for your own."
"What shall I write, Professor?" He picked up the quill, its magic washing over him. It was perfectly enchanted.
Umbridge tapped her chin with a stubby finger. "'I shall defer to my superiors.' That should do nicely."
"And how many times shall I write it, Professor?" Harry leaned forward in his seat. Umbridge took a step back, her brows raised.
"Until the message sinks in, I would think." Umbridge shook her head and took a seat at her desk. She began reading loose parchment from a Ministry file.
Harry sat back in his chair, spinning the quill between his fingers. His eyes never left the squat witch. Minutes passed by before she looked up at him.
"You are not writing, Mister Potter." A scowl formed on her face, making her look constipated. "Were my instructions unclear?"
A vicious smile broke out on his face.
"Not at all, Professor." Harry placed the blood quill on his desk. "I will write the lines. But I am afraid the enchantments on this blood quill will simply not do. You are going to change them for me."
Auburn eyebrows shot into Umbridge's hairline. "And just why would I do that, Mister Potter?"
Harry stood from the desk and Umbridge copied his action, her wand in hand.
"You will be the reason you are driven from this school." Firelight flickered against his face. She raised her wand with a trembling hand. "You will do as I say, Dolores, and you will be none the wiser. Imperio."
Her face slackened. Umbridge lowered her wand. He grabbed the blood quill from her desk and placed it in her waiting hand.
Leaning forward, the young wizard whispered in her ear. Umbridge nodded and began casting spells on the blood quill. The spells were repeated on her store of quills in her desk.
"Very good, Dolores." Harry's eyes glimmered in the dim light. His voice was smooth, reassuring. "Now, sit at your desk."
She moved in jerking motions and looked at him, eyes foggy.
"Obliviate."
By the time Dolores came to, Harry was behind his desk writing lines. She shook her head, her eyes narrow. He did not look up.
"Mister Potter." Her hand scratched at her forehead. Harry suppressed a smirk. "What did you do to me?"
Harry looked up, his face neutral, and showed her the parchment. He had written six inches in small script.
"Nothing Professor." He began writing lines again. "I am a student. What could I possibly do to a professor? Perhaps you are stressed."
"Perhaps," she muttered. Umbridge walked over to him. "Stop for a moment, Potter. I wish to see if the message is sinking in."
Revulsion roiled his gut when she grabbed his right hand. Her eyes danced as she took in his blemished skin. The words she had assigned were displayed in a light pink line across his smooth hand.
The corner of her mouth twitched and she dropped his hand.
"Keep writing, Potter." Umbridge moved to sit at her desk. The fire popped behind her.
'Who am I to disobey, Dolores?' He grabbed the quill. "Of course, Professor."
And so he wrote, and wrote, and wrote. Umbridge's gaze settled over him like muck oozing down his skin. Satisfaction warmed him with every stroke of the quill.
Umbridge's hand, covered in gaudy jewelry, rubbed at her temple. Her eyes closed, her crows feet deepening. Harry suppressed a grin.
'You will soon be gone, Dolores and none will be the wiser.'
He wrote his lines, the hours passing by, as blood leaked from his hand.
*****BREAK*****
Gadgets and trinkets puffed and whizzed in the office. A fire crackled merrily in its hearth, warming his old bones. Fawkes, having recovered from a burning day, preened its new plumage. A bowl of sherbert lemons sat by his hand, untouched.
Albus stared into the fire, shadows dancing across his wrinkled visage. His lips turned down and he steepled his hands in front of him. Phineas Black cleared his throat.
The wards had alerted him of a student using an unforgivable curse. He knew at once what had happened. His eyes flicked to Phineas's portrait. The dead man glared from behind his tapestry.
Tired eyes fell upon a picture of Hagrid. Albus wanted to remove it, if only to forget that night, but he could not. It sat on his desk, a stark reminder of the price they would pay during the war.
In the picture, Hagrid laughed as a Niffler burrowed into Albus's beard. The smile on his younger face reminded Albus of better times. There had been no looming shadow. They had simply been.
"You cannot ignore me forever, Dumbledore." Phineas Black stared down at him from his portrait. "You know as well as I what the boy has just done. Kill him and be through with it. The world will be better off for it."
Albus rubbed his temples against the oncoming headache. A wave of his wand saw the portraits silenced. Many of the others had taken to agreeing with Phineas.
'Have I made a grave error?'
An image, unbidden, of Harry standing atop a mountain of bodies flitted through his thoughts. Fire raged and shadows writhed. Harry stood amid the bodies and flames, victorious, laughing.
Albus shook his head, his hair whipping against his face.
"No," he muttered. His eyes hardened as he looked up at Phineas. "Harry will not become Tom. I will not allow it. He will be more than Tom could have ever been."
Headmaster Black scowled at him and shrugged his shoulders. The message was clear: 'Be it on your head.'
A chime sounded in his office. Albus waved his wand, forcing the portraits to slumber.
"Enter, Harry." Albus's face was neutral as the young man entered the office.
"Good evening, Headmaster." He took the seat Albus offered him. "I am reporting, as you requested."
A sigh escaped his lips.
"You do not have to report to me, Harry." Albus waved his hand between the two of them. "This is not an inquest, and you are no Auror. I would have these meetings be conversational."
Harry did not respond. His body remained stiff.
'It seems I still have much work to do.' Albus grabbed his bowl of sherbert lemons and held it out. Harry shook his head.
"Tell me, Harry, how have your first few days at Hogwarts been?"
The bowl clanked against the wooden desk. Harry looked at Albus and silence pervaded the room. The Headmaster sat back in his chair, curious.
"I am...adjusting." One of Harry's hands twitched against his thigh. "Though I was able to get detention with Umbridge, as we discussed previously."
Albus raised an eyebrow at the young assassin. A minute flinch went through the teenager's body but his face remained passive. The fire spit behind him, the sparks lighting the room for a moment.
"You take issue with what I have done." It was a statement of fact. Harry closed his eyes. "The wards. They tell you if a student casts dangerous magic. You know."
Leaning forward, Albus nodded. It was unlike Harry to be so forthcoming without prodding him. Albus was curious what the boy would say.
"You said I could not kill her." Silence met the statement. Harry's eyes narrowed. "I am ridding the school of her filth."
The memory of Hagrid being torn apart by giants ran through his mind. "Yes, but at what cost, Harry? If you are willing to do this to someone as insignificant as Dolores, what will you do to win the war?"
"Anything," he hissed, his arm slicing through the air. "As long as my actions remain within the parameters of your orders then I fail to see how I have done wrong."
Shaking his head, Albus replied, "It is more than just your actions, Harry, but your intentions. You are the perfect assassin, but you still have much to learn."
Harry opened his mouth to retort but stopped at Albus's raised hand.
"I have lived through two wars Harry." Memories best left forgotten assaulted his mind. Harry stiffened in his seat. "I won one at great cost and the other, I will admit, we would have lost had Voldemort not attacked your family. I have learned much about war, though I detest it. It was clear to me in Romania that you do not know how to best fight a war."
"What is your point, Headmaster? I made a mistake, but I will learn and grow."
White whiskers twitched as Albus gave him a small, strained smile.
"My point, Harry, is that I am a teacher." Albus leaned forward in his seat. "And I should teach you why you should fight. Everything else shall come with time. I brought you here to learn that why. Tell me, what purpose does using an unforgivable curse serve in terms of the war?"
Fawkes trilled in the corner and flew to Albus's large desk. He stroked the bird's breast. Its delighted croon warmed him more than a fire ever could.
"She is unknowingly playing into Voldemort's plans." Harry's fist pounded against his leg. "If she remains, it will only weaken the people who would fight with us. If the students are drawn into the fight they will die."
"The odds of a student surviving Death Eaters was always low, Harry. It is why we must keep the fight from them." Albus stared at him as he pulled a dead mouse from his desk. "While your statement is true, and concerning, it does not answer why you were inclined to use an unforgivable curse."
Fawkes trilled and took the mouse in its beak before it flew to its stand. A flash of fire saw the mouse roasted.
"Blood quills," Harry murmured. "She would use them on your students, Headmaster."
Crunch.
"Pardon?" Albus's eyes were wide, his nostrils flaring. "I do not believe I heard you correctly, Harry. You said she used a blood quill in your detention with her?"
Harry nodded and showed him his bleeding hand. Fury burned in his chest. Albus drew his wand and stood. His vision narrowed.
"She has a collection of them in her desk." Harry's words stopped him in his tracks. "I took care of them, Headmaster. It was why I used the Imperius Curse."
"Explain," the Headmaster ordered, his voice chill as ice.
And so he did.
Albus sat, his head finding its way into his hands. The wards would not have detected a blood quill. Though their use was heavily monitored in the school, they were not uncommon.
"Your plan is cruel, Harry." Albus looked up, fire in his eyes. "I would rather you not go through with it."
"The Minister is pressuring you." The boy shrugged. "Do you have another way to be rid of her and protect the students?"
He shook his head.
"It does not make it right." Shoulders slumping, Albus looked at Phineas's slumbering form.
"Then, with your permission, Headmaster, I would continue on with my course." His emotionless reply brought the image of Harry standing upon bodies again.
'No. He will not change overnight. Harry needs time.' Albus squared his shoulders and nodded.
"I will allow it, this one time Harry." The teenager smiled and revulsion swept over Albus. His next words were firm. "However, I will not have you using dark magic in this school. You will not harm any teacher or student who resides here. The war will be fought outside these walls while I still live. You are here to defend, not attack. Am I clear, Harry?"
"Completely, Headmaster."
Allowing himself to relax, Albus smiled. Harry would follow his orders. His students would be safe.
"Now." Albus clapped his hands. "I would like to know how you are adjusting to Hogwarts. I have seen you interacting with Miss Lovegood and Mister Corner. How do you find them?"
Haryy scoffed. "Annoying."
"Surely, you have more thoughts than 'annoying', Harry?" The Headmaster pushed his glasses up his nose.
"Corner follows me around like a lost puppy," Harry growled. "Though, he is not as bad as the rest of the students, I suppose."
Albus nodded, knowing Harry would make few, if any, friends. The old man only wished for Harry to find someone to connect with.
"And Miss Lovegood?" Albus leaned back in his seat. "Does she vex you as well?"
Brow creased, Harry stared into the fire behind Albus.
"She is the only person here who does not annoy me." The words were quiet. "There is something about her. I do not know what it is, but she intrigues me."
"She is a most interesting person," Albus replied. "An anomaly of magic, if you will. Hopefully, you will have a fruitful relationship. One can never have too many friends."
"I doubt I will make any friends here, or anywhere, Headmaster."
"Only time will tell." Albus took a drink of water, staring at Harry over the rim of his glass. " Did you have something you wished to discuss, Harry?"
Harry rubbed his scar. "Two things, Headmaster. My scar."
Albus leaned forward in his seat, his muscles tense.
"It itches and no scratch can relieve it." Harry rubbed at the scar with renewed vigour. "It did the same at Grimmauld Place. What does it mean?"
Albus leaned back in his seat, his eyes seeking out the drawer that held Riddle's old diary.
"I do not know," he mumbled, the words unconvincing even to him. "I have theories, Harry, but no firm answers. I need to ponder this further. And your second item?"
"The Elder Wand." Harry pulled the Wand. It crackled in his hand and a chill fell over the room. "It ordered me to submit and I refused; it grew cold. It is still powerful, but it does not react to me as it had."
He held out a hand and Harry placed the Elder Wand in his palm. Albus dropped it with a hiss, staring at his hand. A thin coat of frost covered his appendage.
"Curious," he murmured. The Elder Wand sat upon his desk looking like an ordinary wand. "The Elder Wand was always cold when I wielded it, but I knew it had bonded to me when I won it from Gellert. It has never done with me what you described. I am unsure what to make of it."
Harry sighed. He grabbed the Wand.
"As you said then. Only time will tell."
"I am sorry I could not be of more help, my boy." Harry waved him off and pocketed the Wand. "However, we have tarried long enough. Let us get to the reason I called you here tonight."
The teenager sat ramrod straight in his seat. A wave of sadness washed over Albus at the action.
"Amelia Bones contacted me," Albus continued. "Minister Fudge has called off the investigation into your relatives' deaths. She will not be contacting you for an interview."
Harry did not move.
"I have another mission for you." Albus swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, a sour taste on his tongue. "I have received information that one of Voldemort's followers has been coordinating movements of extremely dangerous materials."
"When do I leave and who is the target?" Harry looked at him, his eyes narrow.
Albus looked to his phoenix companion. Fawkes's beady, black eyes met his stare. The phoenix huffed and took off through the window. Albus sighed, his decision made.
"I will need you to spend some time watching his movements," Albus replied with a hitch in his voice. He pushed a dossier across his desk. "You are familiar with this file. He has remained hidden until recently. Strike when he is most vulnerable."
Harry looked at the file between them, the target's name written in blazing red letters.
"It shall be done, Headmaster."
Albus lowered his gaze to the file, his gut roiling in revulsion. 'Will you change, Harry? Or am I the fool who will fall with you?'
*****BREAK*****
A low buzz snapped him from his meditation. Eyes narrow, Harry looked at the hand mirror on his bedside table. Snoring across the small room met his ears.
Grabbing the Mirror, Harry snapped his curtains on his bed shut and silenced them. It was late and only one person could call him on the mirror.
"Sirius."
The man's face appeared. His facial hair was matted and his face was stained. Black's face went in and out of frame as he laughed.
Harry rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Black?"
The older wizard looked affronted. "I jusht wann'ed teh call my goodshun. It'sh been a while."
"You called me yesterday, Black." Harry looked at the Elder Wand beside him. He resisted the temptation. "You were drunk."
'Damn Dumbledore to the lowest circle of hell for ordering me to endure this.'
"I wuz not drunk!" A clattering sound came from the mirror and it showed only darkness. "I wush pleashantly boozed!"
Laughing and more thunks issued from the reflective surface. Harry looked at his half-finished homework. Even finishing that would be preferable to this tedium.
"Sober up, Black, and try again. I will speak with you properly when you are sober." Harry's hand inched toward the rune on the back that would end the call.
"WAIT!" For reasons unknown to him, Harry heeded the command. "I needed to tell you shumpthin'."
Harry waited for a moment. Sirius had picked up the mirror, excitement dancing in his glazed eyes.
"Well, what is it Black? It is late and I have work to do."
The man bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Sirius did not notice.
"Well," he said, drawing out the word. The need to end the call was all-consuming. "I wuz goin' through teh Weezlub Twin's trunks yeshterday."
"The Weasleys have been at Hogwarts for five days, Black."
Black waved his hand and nearly fell over. He brought the mirror close to his face. Harry could only see one of the man's grey eyes.
"Well…" He drew the word out again. Harry's eye twitched. "I found da Marauder's Map in deir trunk."
He raised an eyebrow. "And this should interest me, why? What would I care about a map?"
The screen went dark. More clattering.
"Becaush is shows Hogwartsh and ery'one in it! Me, Jamesh, and Remush made it-"
Harry's eyes widened and he cut the call. He set the mirror on his bedside table and stared at it.
'I will be paying them a visit very soon.'