24.
The next few weeks passed for Harry as if he were living in a dream. His exams were cancelled and when he wasn't training, he spent some time exploring the forbidden forest. Despite the forest's reputation, he'd started feeling more comfortable in it recently. He first started exploring it out of boredom. He was the only student not in class and he meandered around the school until his feet led him to the forest. As he picked a clumsy path through the forest, he found pockets of magical creatures he'd never seen before in colors and varieties he never thought possible. When he needed to go back, the forest always seemed to pass him gently from tree to tree until he was back where he started. It was a curious thing that even Legion could say very little to explain.
We sense the forest has taken a liking to you. They rumbled.
"Oh, do I sense some jealousy?"
No.
"Sure, Legion, sure."
On one afternoon, Harry found a clearing full of kneazles and settled there, lazily petting the soft fur of a particularly friendly kneazle. Time here felt different and the light filtering through the trees was yellow and warm against his skin. A thestral, a bony horse with leathery wings and a hooked beak, lazily trotted through the clearing, disappearing into black smoke as it entered the thicket surrounding the clearing. Harry felt no need to move and watched it leave in a daze.
"Where do thestrals come from anyway? You said only people who've seen death can see them." he said after it had gone.
We wondered when you would ask, Legion said, amused. Death bred them long ago when it still knew us.
"That seems strange," Harry muttered, "that Death should have a nurturing side. Why would it make a life form like that if its job was to take things out of the world?"
We do not know, Legion said, its voices repeating the phrase softly. Death became strange to us. It was not always that way.
"So it's like you lost a friend? Were you hurt when Death started doing bad things?"
We do not know hurt or friendship. It is a strange thing, to love and to hurt. These two sensations should not be able to live on the same plane and yet they exist together in humans. To us, the loss of Death was a pity, but we were not hurt.
"Was Death hurt when you punished it?"
Death should not have been affected by human emotions, but yes, we do believe Death was hurt.
"That's so sad," Harry said, pouting. He spent the rest of that afternoon watching the kneazles play and slept in the warmth of the sun, feeling for all the world like he was being cradled by the grass beneath him.
Harry's travels in the forest continued in a similar vein and on some of these trips, Fawkes followed him, fluttering from tree to tree above him. After a while, he flew down and landed on Harry's shoulder.
"Hello, er, headmaster," Harry said awkwardly.
Hello my boy, Dumbledore said, his voice echoing in Harry's head through legilimency. It may be wise for you to address me as Fawkes. You're the only living thing who knows who I really am. This forest has undergone a change recently and I must say I am surprised to find you here.
"Are you going to take away points for my being here? I know students aren't allowed."
Fawkes chortled, throwing his head back, ruffling the feathers on his neck. No, my boy. It was not I who implemented this rule, but the thing in my body. Before this, the portions of the forest closest to the school were well monitored and students could venture there if accompanied by a professor. Students with an interest in researching the forest could explore in their seventh years if they so wished, provided their parents permitted it and they took a portkey with them.
"So why is the forbidden forest forbidden?"
It is a bastion for life and a safe haven for magical creatures if they need it. The creature in my body is afraid of it. The forest, when it sensed him coming, retaliated violently.
"Why does it like me so much?"
I can't read a forest's mind, no matter how sentient it might be, but I can guess. You almost died here last year, putting it all on the line to save Sirius and free the dementors of their curse. These selfless acts most likely impressed the forest.
"How do you know about the dementors?" Harry rolled over and pillowed his head in the crook of his elbow.
I have spent decades researching death. I came across ancient records of a group of wraiths that were in the historical record of every human and nonhuman culture until they suddenly disappeared. I did not know for certain that they became the dementors, but I saw it for myself when one caught you in the sky.
"You were watching that?"
I was always watching, Harry.
Harry entered Moody's office in the early afternoon one day and sat heavily down in front of Moody. He had a letter in his hand and he sat staring at it, tracing the wax seal on it with his eyes, not saying anything.
"Do I want to know what that is?" Moody asked cautiously. "You usually barge in here and say whatever you want. What's eating you?" Harry tapped the letter anxiously against the table and looked Moody in the eye.
"I wrote a will. I just have a feeling that, uh, I might not come back from this one and-"
"What are you talking about? You're coming back. You have to. Dark lord would skin me if you didn't." He cackled. Harry rolled his eyes, still holding the scroll in his hands.
"I'm serious, you barmy coot," Harry said, holding the scroll out to Moody. "I've got this feeling. I don't think I'm going to make it out of this alive." Moody deflated a little.
"Son, I ...I'm sorry. You've had many experiences like this. Why is this different? What happened?"
"You're going to think this is weird."
"Try me."
"I just think I've used up all of my luck, you know? I've cheated death so many times, I don't think I'll get as lucky this time."
"Luck has nothing to do with it, son," Moody said, face serious for once. "This is a game of skill and you are well equipped to win it." He took the parchment gently out of his hands. "Son, if it makes you feel better, I'll hold onto this for you. I'll keep it safe. Even if you won't need it." Harry smiled at him and nodded.
"What are you going to do when all of this is over?" Harry asked after a while.
"Rejoin the dark lord," Moody said. "There's a lot to do. Getting rid of the real Moody, for one."
"That's right, you've been using the real one for polyjuice ingredients, haven't you? How do you think you'll er dispose of him?"
"Stage his death. How else?"
"You can't just murder him. That would be suspicious. He's one of the best aurors of all time."
"What would you suggest?"
"Kill him gradually. Make it look like old age or a heart attack. He's not looking too good as it is. No offense."
"No, I agree. I'll be happier once I can revert to my handsome self."
"You still won't tell me who you are?"
"Nope," Moody said teasingly.
"Harry, why did you want me to meet you here?" Viktor asked as the door to the room of requirement swung shut behind him. Harry shushed him and continued focusing on the Marauder's Map, which he had unfolded in front of him.
"What is that?" Viktor asked, leaning over Harry's shoulder. He tried flipping over a flap of the map. Harry swatted his hand away.
"Why are all of these names-"
"Now!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. He ran to the door, grabbed someone by the cloak, and yanked them inside.
"Bloody hell, Harry!" Cedric cried, picking himself up off the floor. Harry shushed him, bent over the map once more. Like a madman, he leapt at the door once again and came back in with Fleur in tow.
"Harry!" she gasped, stumbling from being pulled into the room so forcefully.
"Sorry, Fleur," Harry said, folding the map and putting it away. "I needed to keep this meeting a secret."
"Why did you want us here?" Viktor asked, his stance professional like an infantryman. Cedric looked his way and straightened a little, sensing the seriousness of his tone. Fleur was also alert.
"I have to tell you that there is going to be a death eater attack on the final task. They're after me and they want to take me with them. I've dealt with these people before. If you get in their way, they'll kill you."
"What are you proposing we do?" Fleur asked.
"I'm saying when they come, run. Your lives are more important than a stupid cup. I'll try to draw fire away from you, but I need to be sure you will all run." Harry raked a hand through his hair.
"What about you?" Cedric asked, "You're telling us to just abandon you there?"
"I'll be fine."
"No, Harry," Cedric said, crossing his arms. "You can't just expect us to leave you there. We need to think of something better."
"Cedric, this is my problem. I don't want all of you to get hurt because of me."
"He's right, Harry," Fleur said, her head cocked in thought. "You can't give up the strategic advantage of knowing there is a trap by giving yourself up willingly."
"We have to stay together," Viktor cut in. "We would have the best chance of survival. Even if we did run, there is no guarantee that they will let us alone. This is beyond anything you have any control over, Harry."
"And it isn't your fault," Fleur added gently. "We will stick together and make it out of this alive." Harry huffed, not knowing what to say to them.
"That settles it," Cedric said, "we stick together. That's our plan."
The days leading up to the third task were tense and Harry spent a lot of time alone, thinking through the possibilities of what the death eaters could have in store for him. Theo continued reporting to Harry and Draco what he knew, but he was not told anything more than what he already knew. One day at breakfast, however, Ron passed Harry a note.
"What's this?" Harry asked. Ron was uneasy.
"It's from Percy," he said. "He seems worried about something. I was ready to clobber him because he's been a right prat since he started working for Crouch, but he was spooked. He wants to talk to you."
"Thank you, Ron," Harry said, taking the note. His features were stoic. He sighed, stowing the note in his pocket.
"Harry," Ron began again, shrinking a little. "I know he's a draft bugger for going all in for the ministry and being Crouch's lackey, but he's my brother. I know him. Somewhere really deep down, he knows the ministry is at fault for this mess. He wouldn't have wanted to hurt you."
"I know, Ron," Harry said, smiling at him tiredly. "I trust you."
That night, Harry snuck down to the common room and floo called the Burrow as Percy instructed in his note. He was in his childhood bedroom, which had been gutted and filled with Ginny's things when he moved out. He looked uncomfortable and seemed to be living out of boxes.
"Harry!" Percy cried as Harry's face appeared in the fire.
"Hello, Percy. Ron mentioned you wanted to talk to me."
"Harry, I'm so, so unbelievably sorry."
"What for? You didn't put my name in the cup."
"No, but I should have told you about Crouch. He wants you dead, Harry."
"Oh I know."
"You know?"
"I also know he's hiding to avoid suspicion. I also know he struck a deal with the death eaters to pull this off."
"How did you find out about all of this?" Harry remained silent.
"Fair enough," Percy said, smiling wryly. "Listen, I'm resigning-"
"Whatever for, Percy?" Harry said, interrupting.
"I can't be a part of this anymore. I can't help Crouch do these terrible things anymore."
"Percy, you entered politics for a reason. No politician exists without doing something questionable."
"I know. I went into this not knowing anything. I feel like an idiot, Harry. I'm sorry."
"You were just doing your job. If you hate your job so much, I'm just glad you realized this early."
"Anyhow, I'm resigning." Percy leaned against the mantelpiece and rubbed his temples. Harry took this pause to gently probe Percy's mind. He could see the third task there plain as day at the forefront of his thoughts. A maze with petty tricks and obstacles. He also saw that Crouch treated him worse than a house elf, though Percy actually wasn't incompetent.
"Percy, I have a proposition for you," Harry said after a while.
"I'm listening. Anything's better than the mess I'm in." They chatted until Percy insisted that Harry get some sleep.
Harry walked the champions through the forbidden forest one morning when the sun was warming the valley and the fog had begun to dissipate. The forest was as kind as ever and led Harry to a clearing carpeted with young grass. Harry thanked the forest silently, lovingly petting one of the smooth-barked trees surrounding the clearing.
"Are you sure we should be in here?" Cedric asked. "I've never been this far into the forest. I don't think anybody has."
"We're fine, Ced." Harry said, setting down his bag and stretching.
"Your forest is beautiful, Harry," Fleur said, patting Cedric's shoulder comfortingly.
"This is good spot for training," Viktor said, twirling his staff. The four of them had resolved to take their chances and fight together if it came to it. It wasn't a terrible idea. They were the four most gifted students from the four best magical schools in the developed world. Harry conjured a few test dummies, like the ones Lupin made for him the year before, and commenced the training. It took some experimenting, but they figured out a formation that was effective. Harry and Viktor, who had the advantage of physical combat, were in the front. Cedric, who was a good classical dueler and talented in range attack, covered the rear. Fleur, which had wicked fast reflexes and quick, efficient casting skills, could cover enemies sneaking up on them from the sides.
"The third task is a maze," Harry said after the group defeated the latest wave of dummies. "There will be traps and obstacles. Not sure what. Let's try some environmental obstacles." Harry set up a number of traps and training dummies in the surrounding forest. The four of them maneuvered through the trees and realized quickly that Fleur, a fast and thorough curse-breaker, needed to head up the front. Harry, the only other person who knew curse-breaking, covered the sides, leaving Cedric and Viktor to take down residual enemies and protect Harry and Fleur. The session was exhilarating and Harry was struck with the realization that he was enjoying himself.
"That was great!" He said, as the session came to an end. He wiped the sweat from his brow and coiled his usual braid into a messy bun to keep it off his neck. "I've never fought alongside people who could fight like you three."
"Speak for yourself, Harry," Fleur said after taking a deep drink from a water bottle. "You are fully two years younger than us. I could barely keep up with you." Cedric and Viktor were both collapsed in the grass. Cedric sat up.
"I told you he was insanely powerful. How did you even get this good?"
"I also wish to know," Viktor said from the ground.
"I had good teachers. Flitwick, Snape, and McGonagall all gave me extra lessons."
"That's it? Really?" Cedric asked disbelievingly. Harry shrugged and tossed his own water bottle to Cedric.
The night before the third task arrived and Harry could not push away a feeling of dread that clung to his thoughts. He pulled Draco aside after dinner and asked to speak with him.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Draco asked, smiling.
"I erm- about tomorrow. If I don't make it back-"
"What are you talking about? You're scaring me."
"I just wanted to prepare you for the possibility. It could be that I don't make it out of this one. I just wanted to say that you're my brother and I love you. I wouldn't be here today with a loving family without you. I never thought I would ever get a chance to feel safe and loved in a home and you gave that to me." Harry was interrupted as Draco threw his arms around Harry.
"You're making it out of this alive, Potter," Draco said. He was trembling.
"I promise."
The next evening, Harry stood with the other three champions in front of a massive hedge. Percy had made good on his promise to resign and even handed in all evidence of Crouch's wrongdoings. As a sign of goodwill for not whistleblowing to the papers, the ministry let him resign with the remaining year's salary and the highest recommendation. He was in the crowd with the Weasleys as a spectator and wished Harry luck before the start of the event. It seemed unlikely the ministry could allow the tournament to go on with so much impropriety. Cornelius Fudge himself replaced Crouch as a judge.
The four champions entered different parts of the maze. As the hedge closed behind him, Harry sought out Fleur's magical energy signature. After dispatching a few blast-ended skrewts, he found her dealing with a boggart, which for her was a terrifying hag with claws and black wings. Harry gave her a hand and set the thing on fire.
"What the hell was that?" Harry asked.
"A hag," Fleur said, shivering. "I'm sure they don't exist like that, but my grandmother used to tell me stories."
"Why is your imagination like this?"
"No idea. Let's find the others." With Fleur's help, the two made short work of the maze's traps. The hedge periodically tried to eat them, but Harry scorched the leaves around them, preventing the hedge's movements. The maze was littered with curses, all of which carried the energy signatures of McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout. In any other situation, Harry would have admired the workmanship. As both of them worked to dispel the various confundus charms, fog enchantments, and other nasty curses, Harry noticed the sky above then turn green. He looked up and to his horror, a dark mark glowed eerily in the night's sky, visible through even the magical fog covering the maze. Harry hurried to lead Fleur to Viktor and Cedric, giving fast directions. Fleur looked to him questioningly, but did not question how he knew exactly where to turn. They found the other two in less than an hour. As they moved closer to the center of the maze, Harry grew impatient. They encountered a sphinx of all things who demanded that they answer her riddle. Above them, the sky was still green, though no sound could reach them.
"I will not allow you to pass unless you solve my riddle," the sphinx said, its tail swishing from side to side. Ordinarily, Harry would have been ecstatic over meeting a new magical creature, but there was no time. They needed to get out to help the situation outside. He looked into the astral plane and saw the unmistakable cluster of magic that was the Goblet of Fire.
"If anyone asks," Harry said, leveling his wand at the hedge, "we burned through this together. We're pulling an Alexander the Great."
"Harry, that's the wrong myth," Cedric said, still thinking about the sphinx's riddle. He was shaken from his thoughts when a rapid, machine gun-like volley of large magical missiles made of what seemed to be liquid white fire burst from the end of Harry's wand, vaporizing a path through the maze, revealing the glowing blue light of the goblet a few hundred yards away.
"That's cheating," the sphinx said, peeved.
"Desperate times," Harry said. The champions hurried to the goblet.
"Together?" Cedric asked as they circled the goblet. They seized the rim of the goblet together and were immediately surrounded by the telltale whirlwind of a portkey. When they landed, they lost their grip of the goblet and it flew a distance away from them. The four champions lay sprawled on the floor. Harry shook his head as he was crouched on all fours, wondering what happened.
"It's a graveyard," Fleur said, getting up and looking around. It was indeed a moderately sized graveyard and seemed to be surrounded by a thick fog, obscuring any landmarks or surrounding structures. A little further away, there was a church, though its lights were off.
"Where are we?" Cedric asked, looking at the names on the tombstones. Harry looked up at the tombstone nearest to his head and his heart almost jumped out of his body.
"These are my parents' graves," he said hoarsely. There, in the smooth granite before him, read the name "James Potter." To the left of this name on the same tombstone was another name, which read "Lily Potter." Harry grappled his emotions quickly and stood, sprinting towards the goblet of fire.
"Come on! This was a trap! We have to get out of here now!" As Harry spoke, the ground in front of him exploded, sending him flying back. Columns of black smoke flooded into the graveyard and in an instant, the place was filled with Death Eaters, their faces covered with crude masks. Harry scrambled to his feet and the four of them drew their wands.
"Harry, you okay?" Viktor asked. Harry's left forearm had been scraped up from his fall, but he it wasn't serious.
"I'm fine. Aim to kill." The firefight began and Harry whipped up a fiery tornado, carving a scorched path through the cemetery and breaking up their assailants into scattered groups. Viktor sent volleys of cutting curses through the crowd, trying to thin their numbers. Fleur picked off the closest assailants as they made a move towards the group while Cedric maintained a magical shield and redirected longer range curses back to the caster. More columns of smoke landed all around them and it was clear they were outnumbered. In the chaos, Harry and Viktor began resorting to physical attacks to allow Fleur and Cedric the room to continue their ranged attacks. He had just killed one death eater by punching him in the throat and finishing him with a blast in the chest when he spotted a nasty cluster of cutting curses heading towards Fleur. Harry was the closest to her and with no time to shield her. He flung himself in front of her, his arms crossed protectively over his face. He grunted as the spell made contact, causing a smattering of deep gashes to appear on his cheeks, forearms, abdomen, and legs.
"Harry!" Fleur cried.
"I'm fine," Harry yelled, kicking an oncoming Death Eater in the groin. "Keep fighting!"
The champions downed perhaps ten or fifteen more Death Eaters. As they dealt with one, five more seemed to take their place. Harry felt himself wavering and knew the others would not last much longer. All four of them were injured as spells hit every now and then. Fleur had a cut on her cheek, Cedric had taken a curse to the shoulder, and Viktor's sleeve had caught on fire. Harry pointed his wand at the ground and cast a spell that sent a rolling shockwave through the ground, sending Death Eaters flying in all directions. They left a path clear to the goblet. The champions ran. As they neared the cup, Cedric cried out in pain and fell. Harry looked down, horrified. His leg had been blasted off just below the knee. Viktor and Fleur picked him up, supporting him on each side. Harry petrified the leg to stop the bleeding and cast a numbing curse to prevent Cedric from going into shock, but he doubted it would hold for long. Harry tailed behind them as they continued towards the goblet. He looked behind him and the delay had allowed the death eaters to catch up with them. They had mere seconds. Viktor and Fleur hobbled as fast as they could, but there was no time. Harry stopped and turned back towards the death eaters, holding them off with more fireballs. Viktor noticed he'd fallen back and stopped.
"Go! They're after me! They won't follow you!" Harry cried.
"We won't leave you!" Viktor howled. Time seemed to slow and Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he looked into Viktor's desperate eyes. Seeing the look on Harry's face, Viktor screamed and his words were cut off as Harry cast a powerful spell that bisected the graveyard with a massive wall of fiendfyre, too hot for anyone to cross on either side. Some death eaters were engulfed in the flames and were incinerated in seconds. Sure enough, the group gave up on the other champions and focused their efforts on Harry. Harry continued firing off spells at the horde of Death Eaters and heard the sound of a portkey being activated. Relieved, he dispelled the fire and kept casting until he was finally overtaken and tackled to the ground. They bound his arms and forced him to kneel in front of his parents' graves. Dolohov appeared at last, a gleeful look in his eye.
"I have to say, Mr. Potter," he said, his acrid breath steaming from his mouth. "You are the resilient one. Not even a dragon could kill you."
"Too afraid to come after me yourself, then?" Harry asked, laughing. Dolohov smirked.
"Crucio," he said suddenly, whipping his wand at Harry. Harry's world turned red and every nerve ending was on fire. He writhed on the floor screaming for what seemed like an eternity. When Dolohov released the spell, his muscles continued twitching as if he'd been electrocuted. He picked up Harry by the front of his shirt.
"Why are you doing this? Why here?" Harry bit out.
"Because you are the symbol of our great leader's downfall, the last obstacle standing between us and our cause. Killing you will mean the death of any more rebellion against our rule. This was the scene of our greatest failure." He dragged Harry to his parents' tombstone and positioned him behind it. Then, he cast a cutting curse at Harry, opening a ragged wound that stretched from his right shoulder to his left hip. Harry screamed as he buckled over, blood covering the tombstone thickly. Dolohov grabbed him again and threw him in front of the grave, forcing his back up against the tombstone.
"With his blood, we have repaid the Potters for their crime against our Dark Lord," he announced, cackling. The other Death Eaters broke out into uproarious laughter. Someone handed Dolohov a dagger and another grabbed Harry's head, forcing him to look as Dolohov embedded the blade deep into Harry's chest. Harry screamed again, though his throat was raw by then. Dolohov turned to his followers and continued his long speech. The world around Harry darkened.
Remember your lessons, young one. Legion thundered. We will not allow you to join us. It is not yet time. Harry was confused and lightheaded as he continued losing blood. Two glowing white figures emerged from the ground beneath him. The figure to his right placed a hand on his wounded torso and pulled part of his soul into the astral plane, placing it in stasis and stemming the blood flow. The figure on his left burned away his bindings and guided his hands to the grave dirt beneath him soaked with blood. Harry began drawing energy from the grave dirt itself.
"What?" Harry asked as he was filled to the brim with magical energy.
This is sacred ground and many spirits left their magic here before departing to the astral plane. As a master of death, it is yours to use. Harry stared dumbstruck at the figure to his left and found himself looking at what seemed to be a mirror image of himself, though older. The specter of James Potter smiled at Harry and hoisted him up, supporting him with a warm energy rolling off of him in gentle waves. The figure on the right guided Harry's hands to the two Death Eaters nearest to him. It was his own mother, smiling as she coaxed Harry into using his powers to take control of the Death Eaters' bodies and breaking their necks.
Dolohov turned to look at him, shocked expression on his face. Harry forced the soul of one of the death eaters he killed back into the mangled body. The resulting rabid, moaning inferi bounded towards Dolohov, its head facing the wrong direction and its hands outstretched. It pounced on Dolohov, goring him in the eye and leaving deep scratches on his face. He howled and struggled to escape the inferi's grasp. The Death Eaters were distracted trying to free Dolohov, but others directed their attention at Harry. They snarled at him as they approached and one lashed at him. Harry caught the arm that was coming for him and took hold of the Death Eater's soul, lighting it afire with the excess of spiritual energy surrounding him. The man in Harry's grasp was alight with white-hot fire as if from within, like a comet burning up in the atmosphere. The fire jumped from Death Eater to Death Eater and soon, all of the bodies within twenty feet of Harry were on fire. Dolohov, his face now bandaged, bellowed with rage as his men fell before him and the remaining Death Eaters began moving towards Harry. Harry stood, ready to fight, his parents' ghostly figures supporting him. The Death Eaters streamed towards him, arms outstretched. Harry didn't know how many spells he cast or how many Death Eaters he'd managed to hit. If one got close enough to him, they burned where they stood the same way the first group did. Harry's hands were alight with flames that he shot at the death eaters coming too close and burned white-hot on Harry's skin. He didn't know how much longer he could fight like this and sustain the spell keeping his wounds closed.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a green curse fly at him and he barely dodged in time. Something he was sure was a crucio whizzed by his ear. Harry found the source of the curses was Barty Crouch Sr., the man himself who authorized the use of unforgivable spells in the war. He cast spells in an aggressive onslaught that drove Harry to using defensive spells only. Just when his shield spell was about to break, a green light struck him from behind and Barty Crouch Sr. was dead. Harry followed the curse to its source and saw Moody, flanked by what looked like all the aurors in Britain. The graveyard was again chaos and columns of smoke flew in every direction as people fled from the aurors. The aurors caught quite a few, but Dolohov got away. Moody focused his attention on Harry.
Harry fell to the floor and leaned heavily against a tombstone, panting shallow breaths from exhaustion and pain, knife still sticking out of his chest. His hands, burnt badly and bloody from the heat of the spiritual energy that burned up so many death eaters, lay limply at his sides. His parents' spirits, still smiling, each placed a hand on his shoulders and faded away. Harry felt their loss and shivered, blinking up at the sky, trying to stay awake. The cool stone of his own mother's grave soothed his aching back, which took a few hits during the fire fight. The spell keeping him alive was taking its toll. Vaguely, he was aware of the aurors rescuing Mr. Nott, Theo's father, from the little church, and he was overjoyed. The world around him looked hazy and he felt as if he wasn't really there.
"You've really done it this time, son," Moody said, crouching down by Harry's side. His old wrinkly face was crumpled with worry. Dawlish and Robards were beside him barking orders.
"The knife," he said, hands hovering around the knife in his chest as if trying to remove it. Moody gently restrained his wrists.
"No, that'll make matters worse. Listen, I need you to look at me. You're safe now. Stay awake, son," Moody said, kneeling to get a closer look at him. The night was dark and Harry was covered in too much blood and dirt to make out the extent of his wounds.
"I'm cold," Harry said, holding his hands out to Moody. Moody held the mangled, bleeding hands and tsked, brow furrowed deeply in distress. Harry's hands and muscles trembled and continued twitching, an after effect of the cruciatus. Tonks appeared and knelt by Harry's side. She pulled out her wand, trying a few rudimentary healing spells.
"Wotcher, Harry," she said, trying to smile to put him at ease. "Why do I always see you all bloodied up? Let me see if I can do anything about these wounds."
"How is he?" Robards asked, though his face was grim.
"He needs help," Tonks said. "I don't know enough healing magic. At this rate, he'll die."
"Robards, I'm taking him back." Moody barked. Gently, he scooped Harry up in his arms. Robards nodded and signalled a few other aurors to escort them. Tonks followed them.
"Apparition wards are still down at Hogwarts for you. Take a few aurors just in case." With a crack, they aparated away from the graveyard.
As the party appeared on the quidditch pitch, the crowd erupted into cheers. The scene was soon utter chaos as aurors and ministry officials scrambled to manage the crowd and send teams to the graveyard to investigate. Harry scanned the quidditch pitch, not believing his own eyes. He'd made it back. A little farther off, he could see his family, the Malfoys, Sirius, Snape, Ron, and Hermione, running towards him. Moody laid him down gently onto the grass and healers were at once upon him. Smethwyck grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it free. Other healers were ready with wands drawn to heal the wound. Harry felt something in his body break, his magical core finally giving up. His breath hitched in his throat and he cried out as his whole body arched painfully off the ground, his body alight with pain. Time had run out. The uncountable wounds on his body burst back open and he could feel the blood soaking his clothes. Dimly, he heard Smethwyk yelling and the healers seemed to begin moving in double time. His eyes wandered to the night's sky above him and he found comfort in the stars. As his world grew dark, he felt as if he was floating on his back in a pool of calm, cold water.
After what felt like an eternity his eyes snapped open. He lay in a white expanse, thrumming with power and radiating calm. He sat up and was face to face with a person he knew from his lessons with Legion. However, instead of the ashen face of the shade of Lily Potter, Harry recognized his mother's brilliant green eyes and radiant red hair. Her cheeks were flushed with life and Harry was frozen in disbelief.
"Dammit, I died," he said quietly. His mother laughed, a voice like velvet ringing through the white expanse.
"A little, yes," she said. She was squatting in front of him a little like a child, her arms crossed over her knees. "But you'll be alright in a bit." She helped him up. As he stood, Harry threw himself into her arms, taking in her warmth and her smell. She laughed and kissed his head.
"My baby," she sighed into his shoulder. "You've grown so much, but you're still my baby boy. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you. I'm so sorry you're here." Harry shook his head, face still buried in her hair. After a short while, she pulled away and put both hands on his face, looking into his eyes, eyes that mirrored hers.
"You can't stay here, darling."
"I know, but, if I died, how am I going to go back?" Harry asked, tears running down his face.
"Well this was a bit of magic I left in you when I died," Lily said, bobbing her head side to side playfully. "I could only protect you from death this once. Your friends have healed your body right up, but your soul tried to leave before they were done. I tethered your soul to your body, so I can put you right back. I'm just so sorry that you're here so young. I was hoping you wouldn't have to use this until you were older."
"I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier." Harry thought for a moment. "This is necromancy."
"Yep."
"Where did you learn it?"
"Figured it out."
"But how are you a necromancer? Where did you get it from?" Lily smiled and waved her hand. A picture of a little house on the edge of a mossy green cemetery appeared in the white expanse.
"This is the house where I was born. We didn't always live there, but that is where your grandparents live now. Go there and learn a thing or two. Severus or Sirius should remember where they are. They can help you heal. Give them my best." Harry blinked at her, confused. She laughed and kissed his forehead.
"You have to go back now, Harry," she said, voice sad. Harry embraced her again and with a jolt he was back in his body, lying down in the grass, eyes closed. The world around him was silent. His lungs burned and his limbs were heavy. Someone's cloak covered his face and he couldn't move a thing. His brain struggled to retake the reins to his muscles. Mustering all his energy, he took a heaving, choking breath and rolled over, coughing and clutching at the grass beneath him with all his might. Harry was suddenly surrounded by a commotion of people and the world's sounds returned all at once. His world was a blur and his senses were awash with more information than his brain could process. Somebody yelled orders to stay back and others were yelling things he couldn't understand. Above all, he could hear his friends calling his name. Someone with large hands sat him up and someone else wrapped him in a blanket.
"I'm okay," he gasped, not believing a word he said, but wanting to say something even so. "Like hell you are!" someone barked. He fell asleep in the arms of whoever held him and knew no more.