A/N: TW for attempted date rape.
Also, thanks to Toki Mirage for inspiration and patience. Enjoy!
Chapter 17: Flying Solo
"Expelli-a-rammoos!" shouted Cornelius Fudge as he waved his wand at another Hufflepuff second year. Instead of doing anything to the other boy, Fudge's own rather long hair stood up on end. It gave him the appearance of a dandelion.
"Remember, Mr. Fudge, it's 'Expelliarmus.' And your hair—it's a good look for you. Now, Mr. Bones," he said, turning to the other boy, Edgar Bones, "why don't you try?"
Edgar waved his wand in Fudge's direction and shouted "Expelliarmus!" Fudge's wand soared in a graceful arc and landed in Edgar's outstretched hand.
"Well done, Mr. Bones. Keep practicing, both of you." Harry turned and poked through the other pairs offering tips and guidance. His stomach rumbled. He had been skipping meals in order to avoid the great hall and Albus. He was horrified that he'd almost given away his secret of being from the future and almost blown his cover as Harry Crockett. He'd been tempted by the prospect of a friendship with Albus and had gotten too comfortable. He wouldn't let it happen again. He didn't need Albus.
The bell rang.
"Good work, class. By next class I want you to be able to disarm me. Keep practicing! Enjoy your lunch." The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws crowded out of the classroom. When they'd all left, Harry sagged onto one of the cushions, his stomach rumbling audibly. He'd been using his body aura to suppress his metabolism, but it had been days since he'd eaten. He decided to risk a trip to the kitchens.
He crept through the halls using as many shortcuts as he knew. He was flying blind because he'd locked all but his body aura (including his wand) in his tower and had added protection to his tower that cut off his connection to the objects. He didn't want to take any chances of being compromised because of his auras.
He darted down the hall in the basement to the portrait of the bowl of fruit and tickled the pear. It turned into a door knob and he yanked the door open.
Inside the kitchen was the usual chaos heightened by the lunchtime rush above. He scanned the room. His gaze halted on a figure on the other side of the room by the faculty table. Though he was bent over, Harry could tell the person was almost twice as tall as the house elves. It was Wister.
Harry waded through the churning house elves to the head table. Avoiding Albus had been very isolating, and Harry found himself actually wanting to talk to Wister. Wister wasn't the sharpest tentactula leaf in the greenhouse, so Harry wasn't the slightest bit worried about Wister catching on to his time travel mystery.
"Hello, Wister," said Harry. Wister jumped and knocked over a luscious bowl of fruit salad, narrowly avoiding spilling it on his lavender cardigan. Several house elves scurried to clean up the mess.
"Oh! Harry. Why, hello. Where have you been recently? I've missed you at lunch!"
"I've been finding the Great Hall a little too loud for me," Harry lied.
"Oh, uh," said Wister. "Do you want to have lunch with me instead?"
"Yeah, ok," said Harry.
They commandeered a few platters of food and a few goblets, and Wister levitated them out of the kitchens. Harry and Wister poked through the basement until they found an unused room with a table. Wister set the food down on the table, and conjured a pair of stiff wooden chairs. They sat down and began to eat.
Harry found, as the meal went on and he sipped his drink, that he wasn't annoyed by Wister's conversation anymore. He felt relaxed, at ease and carefree. He found himself drifting contentedly and he didn't have any inclination to question it. He didn't notice when he took a bite of sprouts—his least favorite food— and he didn't mind the taste when he did. He just kept eating. He was particularly enjoying his beverage, which never seemed to need to be refilled, though he'd drunk copious amounts of it. He was hardly hearing anything Wister was saying, but for some reason he found the conversation intoxicating. His thoughts started to become fuzzy.
Wister's voice reached through his fog to him. "I'm going to tie you up, ok Harry?"
"That sounds nice," slurred Harry. "You're a really gr…great friend, Wisster."
"Yes. I am a great friend. Just not yours," said Wister.
Albus Dumbledore was sitting at the head table examining a particularly luscious bowl of fruit salad that had inexplicably poured itself on his lap. It was rare that house elves knocked food over in the basement kitchen. He Vanished the spilled fruit, probably resolving to check on the kitchen after the meal (though knowing Dumbledore, he could just as easily have been mentally calculating the next move to an imaginary chess game against himself). He finished his meal slowly, and pensively sipped his goblet of pumpkin juice. When he was done, he set down the goblet, pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned, either because of some painful personal dilemma (or possibly the frustration of having his queen taken).
Albus dabbed his mouth with his napkin, stood, and swept out of the hall. He turned to the stairs that led to the basement and stepped down them lightly, his robes sweeping the steps behind him. He strode down the low ceilinged hall, tickled the pear, and opened the door. As he stepped in, the house elves began to rush into cramped lines. They took off their white, Hogwarts-stamped oven mitt hats, and swept into identical bows.
"Good afternoon!" Albus called. "I was wondering if any of you noticed a disturbance here in the kitchen this afternoon."
A female elf stepped forward. She had a matriarchal look about her, and had a black mitt-hat rather than white. She spoke confidently.
"No, sir, nothing was being wrongs with the meal today, sir. We is not having anything wrong."
"Did you see anyone in the kitchen who was not an elf?"
"No, sir, there is not being anyone—"
A young elf stepped forward and interrupted.
"Master Dumbledore, sir, Master Bloom and Master Crockett was being in here during lunch, sir."
The elves looked at the young elf murderously.
"We is sorry, sir. Roopie is being new sir. He is not knowing his manners sir," said the head elf.
"Please do not punish him or let him punish himself," said Dumbledore. "Roopie, what were Harry and Wister doing in the kitchen?"
"They is taking a goblet and knocking fruits over, sir. Then both masters Crockett and Bloom are leaving with foods, sir."
"Thank you, Roopie. Thank all of you." The house elves bowed. Dumbledore exited the room through the portrait.
Back in the hall, he stood still with his arms at his sides, his face a mask. His eyes shone with the kind of disappointment that comes from realizing that someone new and interesting in your life was avoiding you (or maybe from losing an imaginary chess match). He blinked, but then the hall in front of him exploded into fire and Albus shielded his eyes.
Albus barely had time to register Fawkes, before Fawkes had gripped his talons into the shoulder of Albus's robes and was dragging him insistently down the hall. They stopped in front of a closed door. Albus couldn't hear anything from within, but after casting a quick spell he learned that there was a silencing spell on the wall. Fawkes whistled urgently. Albus tried the door, but it was locked. He tried a few wordless spells on the door, but nothing happened.
Fawkes disappeared and reappeared a moment later with a bowling ball gripped by the holes in one of his talons. He swung it forward and it crashed into the door.
Albus got the idea, and before the ball hit the ground, he had it levitating. He shot it towards the door, and the door cracked under the impact. He shot it once more at the door, and this time it made a hole all the way through. Albus enlarged the hole with his wand and climbed through.
The scene on the inside of the room was a startling enough sight; Harry was shackled against one wall making little uncomplicated sighs. Wister was in front of Harry with his back turned to the door. He was partially obscuring Harry from view. None other than Tom Riddle was sitting on a grand green armchair a few paces from the standing pair. His leg was crossed over one knee, and a greedy, amused smile played across his face.
But it was what Albus heard next that brought a look of shock to his face.
"Remove his robes," said Tom.
Clearly, neither Voldemort nor Wister noticed Albus; the silencing charm had prevented any noise of his entry. Harry, on the other hand, smiled contentedly over Wister's shoulder at Albus and sighed. Albus's face tightened. He looked like he was going to use surprise to his advantage, until the air next to him burst into flames and Fawkes appeared whistling angrily. Voldemort and Wister whipped around to find the source of the noise. Voldemort leapt to his feet and drew out his wand when he saw Albus. Wister made a high pitched squeaking noise and backed away from Harry.
"Hello, Tom. May I ask what you are doing with these staff members?"
"Dumbledore! Is it possible that not even you suspected that Wister here is working for me? Yes, I, Lord Voldemort, have infiltrated your school right under your nose."
"Tom, I am sorry that you feel the need to do things like this."
"I bet you're sorry, Dumbledore. You'll be even sorrier when I make Harry Potter here kill you!"
Fawkes took that moment to sink his talons into the back of Voldemort's robes and he and Voldemort vanished in a whirl of flames.
Wister made eye contact with Albus.
"Albus, I—"
The air around Albus crackled with magic.
"You what? You didn't mean it? He promised you things you couldn't refuse?"
"Exactly, Albus. How did you—"
"You have two minutes to get out of the castle safely. I, unlike you, do mean it. And that, unlike Tom's, is a promise you shouldn't refuse. Get out of my sight," he whispered dangerously.
Wister took a moment to stare open mouthed at Albus. Then the meaning of his words sunk in and Wister ducked past Albus and hopped through the ragged hole in the door.
Albus fell across the room to Harry. In an instant the shackles were gone, and Harry staggered away from the wall, swaying goofily.
"Helloo, Professessorr Dumbledore, Albussir. You missed the party!" He collapsed onto Albus, Harry's arms wrapping around Albus's neck for support.
"Harry," said Albus weakly, searching Harry's green eyes. "What has happened?"
"Wisszter and I were…were having a party…and then he thought it would be fun to tie me up…and then Voldemort showed up to our party, and he had some ideas about how to make it more fun…" Albus grimaced. "Don't make that face. It was…it was f-fun! You smell like lemon drops," Harry said.
There was a rush of noise.
"Get off me you imbecile bird!" said a high cold voice from the room behind Harry. There stood Voldemort once more with Fawkes flapping his wings madly around Voldemort's head, his talons clearly still stuck in Voldemort's robes.
Albus pushed Harry off himself and stepped between him and Voldemort.
"Fawkes, silly, you tried to make Moldyshorts go away but it didn't work! We should trim your toe nails so you don't get stuck on anyone else that ugly," giggled Harry.
"Silence you bespeckled fool!" snapped Voldemort, finally managing to throw Fawkes off himself. "Be silent for now, anyway," he added in parceltongue, smiling to himself. "I'll want you to beg and scream for me later when I have you to myself. Mine."
"Is 'now' over yet?" asked Harry hissing and spitting in parceltongue.
Voldemort's jaw dropped and Albus actually turned around to look at Harry.
"You understand me?" asked Voldemort a slight pink tinge creeping into his icy features.
"Well, yeah," said Harry. "I was going to save the surprise for a more dramatic time, but dirty talk like that shouldn't go unacknowledged."
"Saving the surprise? How did you know I speak it? How do you know so much about me? Who are you!"
Albus took that moment to begin sending spells at Voldemort. Voldemort conjured a shield in front of himself, and shot a few spells back at Albus. Albus hopped out of the way accidentally leaving Harry exposed.
"Imperio!" hissed Voldemort. The spell hit Harry dead on.
Harry was already in a state of carefree floating, but when the imperious curse hit him even his fluffy happy thoughts left him. He was cut off from five sevenths of his soul and power source, was drugged, and under the imperius curse. If he had been in a regulated duel, the "incapacitated" clock would have started counting down, and Harry would have had no thought nor intention to stop it.
Come stand next to me, Harry. Just walk over and stand next to me. Address me as your lord.
"Yes, My Lord," said Harry dreamily.
Harry wobbled slightly, but strode over to Voldemort's side and faced Albus, expression as blank as his mind.
On the other hand, Albus was involuntarily causing the air around him to crackle with magic. Both Harry's and Voldemort's hair began to stand on end. Dust swirled through the basement room and the wind blew Albus's hair and robes forebodingly. The bare light bulb in the middle of the ceiling flickered.
Harry, kill Dumbledore. Just use your wand and kill him.
"Of course, My Lord," said Harry. Albus's face was calm and inscrutable.
Harry reached into his pocket to retrieve his wand, but it wasn't there. It was locked away in his tower.
"I haven't got a wand, My Lord," said Harry dreamily, looking sideways at Voldemort.
"You haven't got a…? Well, this won't be nearly as satisfying if you don't kill him, so take mine."
Take my wand. Kill Dumbledore with it. Take my wand. Kill Dumbledore with my wand.
Harry took the wand from Tom Riddle's fingers and pointed it at Albus. Albus stayed where he was.
"Avada Kedavera!" said Harry dreamily waving the wand.
Nothing happened. There was no flash of green light.
Along with Harry's own wand, Harry's magical core was locked in the tower. He couldn't do magic without accessing it, and trying to access it wasn't the next thing that occurred to his compromised mind.
No, instead Harry strode calmly back over to Albus, who's emotion was only betrayed by the magic crackling around him. He walked around behind him. Albus didn't move, but continued to stare into Voldemort's eyes as Harry reached around and pulled his long auburn hair back. He stood completely still as Harry threaded the wand around Albus's neck and started to pull on both ends, cutting off Albus's airflow.
Voldemort watched Harry with confusion for a moment, but then a look of horror bloomed across his face.
Stop! came the order through Harry's mind, but it was a moment too late. The wand Harry had been using to garrote Albus cracked in two, sending sparks across the floor. Albus coughed lightly and turned to face Harry.
"Are you ok?" he asked.
"Yeppers, I'm good, Albus," Harry replied goofily. The imperius curse was gone and had been replaced by his loopyness.
"A little too good, I daresay," he said to no one in particular.
"Albussy?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Your antagonist has escaped."
"Oh bother," said Albus spinning around to face the door. Voldemort had fled. Before Albus could dash away, Harry grabbed the back of his robes.
"Don't bother. 'Snot meant to be. You won't catch him."
"Harry, look what he's done. Think what he'll do! He's wandless now, but he'll get another one and—"
"Yew. 13 and a half inches long. Phoenix feather. This phoenix, actually," said Harry, gesturing drunkenly at Fawkes.
Albus stopped trying to leave.
"Harry, what is going on?"
"Nothing," he said smiling and swaying like a child who'd been caught taking a cookie out of the cookie jar.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin," said Albus, calm, but clearly frustrated. "I have half a mind to put you to bed with a dreamless sleep potion until the other potion wears off."
Fawkes, apparently trying to be helpful, took off and slammed into Harry's back, knocking him into Albus. When Albus had caught Harry, Fawkes gripped onto Harry's shoulder and the three of them vanished in a whirl of flames and reappeared in Harry's tower, still embracing.
"That was very thoughtful of you, Fawkes, however we are short one dreamless sleep potion," said Albus, putting Harry back on his feet. "Harry, could you remove your protection on the tower so I can go find you some?"
Harry shook his head, smiling sheepishly.
"Fawkes?" asked Albus, "Could you help—"
Fawkes burst into flame and disappeared.
"He's hungry," said Harry. "Silly phoenix, Trix are for teachers!"
"I assume you put up the extra protection so that I couldn't get in?" asked Albus.
"You bet! It's funny, because now it's keeping you in here with me!"
"You need to sleep, Mr. Crockett."
"I thought you knew that's not my name," said Harry, suddenly finding himself drowsy.
"I did figure that out, yes. However, I'm not going to take advantage of your condition by asking you lots of questions about it," said Albus, positioning himself so that he could catch Harry if he fell.
"Mmm, you can take advantage of me, Albus. I didn't mind it during the duel."
"Harry, your current state of mind is endlessly amusing. However, I think it is time that you slept."
"Are you going to take off my robes?"
Albus flicked his wand and Harry's robes were replaced with purple silk pajamas to match the bed.
"Tricky, tricky," said Harry as he staggered to the bed and pulled back the comforter. "You're a sharp one, Albussy."
Harry tried to climb into the bed, but lost his balance. Albus caught him, but one of Harry's flailing arms knocked into Albus's head, nearly sending his glasses flying.
"Albussy, Albussy, glasses askew," Harry said in a singsong voice. "I see your eyes, so shiny and blue…"
Albus helped Harry into bed, and soon Harry fell still, breathing deeply. Albus perched himself on the side of the bed and removed his half moon glasses. He massaged his temples and the bridge of his nose. He replaced his glasses and peered through them at the sleeping Harry.
Harry was still wearing his glasses, so Albus lightly lifted them from his face. In doing so, his hand passed over Harry's magically concealed scar. Albus felt the trace of magic and froze. He set down Harry's glasses and picked up his own wand. He easily removed Harry's concealment charm.
Albus reached down and brushed Harry's bangs away from his forehead to find a thin, lightening shaped scar there. He pursed his lips and replaced the concealment charm. He threaded his fingers through Harry's hair, lost in thought.
The minutes ticked by and turned into hours, and Harry slept on. Albus occasionally got up to get a lemon drop, but mostly sat vigilant over Harry. Fawkes came and went, and all Albus said to him was, "Shh, Harry's sleeping."