SHAMELESS PLUG!
My first original novel, Strangers In Boston, is now available on Amazon under my pen name, T.S. Mann (get it?). It's free to Kindle Prime members and $4.99 to people who want to download the Ebook. Paperback copies are available for $12.99. Check it out, and if you like it, please leave a review. Basically, it's American Harry Potter. Except there's no school, no wands, and if you use magic improperly, it can drive you insane and possibly destroy the world. No pressure or anything.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled fanfic.
Harry Potter
and the Death Eater Menace
Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
Chapter 46: Redux (Part 3)
Somewhere, somewhen …
The little boy had been lost in the woods for longer than he could remember, and as the night got colder, he'd ended up huddled under a tree sobbing quietly and shivering both from the cold and from fear. For he knew that there was a monster after him, a great and terrible monster that would devour him whole if it caught him. Then, the boy gasped in terror as a demonic howl erupted from farther into the woods. It was some distance away, but closer than the last time he'd heard it just a few minutes before. The boy began to weep piteously. He was alone and cold, and the monster would be here soon. Then, as that thought rippled through his terrified mind, the boy heard another sound much closer. He turned and saw that the bushes just a few feet away were rustling as some thing pushed its way through them. And the distant howl that had so frightened the boy was now replaced by a different animal sound. A low, hungry growl.
The bushes parted …
… and Harry Potter staggered into the clearing looking disheveled and very confused. Instantly, he whirled about with wand in hand, looking for whatever psychic defenses the werewolf might have to use against him. Considering Professor Snape's thoughts on the sheer idiocy of Legilimizing a transformed werewolf, Harry was quite surprised to see no immediate dangers at all.
He examined the scene more carefully, but it was simply an open clearing in the middle of some woods. High above, the night sky was clear, and a full moon shone down upon him. Despite the apparent peacefulness of the scene, Harry grew increasingly tense. Time functioned differently when inside someone else's head via Legilimency, but it didn't stop completely. And he had no idea how long he could afford to dally in these woods before his mental journey ended with the sensation of werewolf claws ripping him apart in the physical world.
Finally, in his frustration, he thrust his arms out and yelled up at the night sky. "Okay! I'm here! Now what?!"
To his surprise, the only response was a soft whimper from behind a nearby tree. Harry cautiously made his way over to it and discovered that he was not alone in this mindscape. For behind the tree, there was a small boy, aged four or so. The child was dirty, terrified, and shivering in the cold, and when Harry reached for him, the boy recoiled in fear.
"Shhh!" Harry said while putting on his most winning smile. "It's okay, kid. I'm not going to hurt you." Then, the Slytherin noticed that the boy seemed strangely familiar. "Hey, you're Remus, aren't you? Little Remus Lupin."
The child nodded nervously. "Wh-who are you?"
"My name's Harry. Harry Potter. Does … does that name seem familiar to you?"
Remus quickly shook his head.
"It's okay. I'm a friend, Remus. I'm here to help if I can. What are you doing out in these woods?"
The child shrugged. "I dunno. I just … I just woke up here. And then, I had t'hide from d'Monster!"
"The … Monster?" Harry asked. He assumed "the Monster" was a werewolf. But was this a memory of Fenrir Greyback? Or was the child afraid of the werewolf that he himself became every month.
And then, Harry heard the howl. It was definitely a werewolf – Harry would never forget that sound now that he'd heard it at close range. But this howl came from some distance away.
"Okay, Remus. The Monster's not here now. But it's probably coming. Is there some safe place near here?"
Remus shook his head miserably. Then, from the far side of the clearing, there was a rustle in the underbrush, and the child whimpered at the sound of it. Instantly, Harry whirled around, wand in hand. But he couldn't see anyone or anything.
"Remus, is there more than one Monster?" The boy slowly nodded his head, his eyes wide with terror. But as Harry kept his wand trained on the underbrush, no werewolves burst out to attack them.
"Stay here, Remus," Harry said as he slowly made his way across the clearing.
"Don't!" Remus whispered urgently. "It'll get you!"
But nothing sprang forth to get him. Indeed, as Harry drew closer, there was another rustle of the underbrush, and this time, he realized that whatever was moving through the scrub didn't even come up to his waist.
"Oookay," Harry muttered. "If it's a werewolf, it's a very small one."
He gestured with his wand, and the thin branches of the bushes parted. On the other side of them was … a wolf. Not a werewolf, but rather a perfectly normal wolf. Specifically, a timber wolf with grayish-white fur and amber eyes. It looked up at Harry almost peacefully, and it didn't growl but merely panted softly.
Now completely confused, Harry looked back up at the sky and yelled out in annoyance. "A hint would be nice! You know – from the Time-Turner or from Fate or whatever! What am I supposed to do with all this?!"
None of those entities deigned to respond, but there was another howl from farther in the woods. It was the werewolf, now significantly closer. From behind him, Harry could hear little Remus crying. Then, the wolf barked at him once as if to get his attention.
Harry looked back at the animal and found himself staring into its deep amber eyes. Suddenly, the Slytherin's own eyes widened in recognition, for he had seen eyes that color before. Instantly, he looked back towards little Remus and then to the wolf, back and forth several times.
And then, he burst into laughter.
"Of course! Remus Lupin! Wolfy McWolferson! Hee!"
With an excited grin on his face, Harry took a step forward and knelt, extending his hand towards the wolf as he did.
"Hey there, boy! It's me! Harry Potter. You know, James and Lily's son!"
Cautiously, the wolf came out from the underbrush and gently licked Harry's hand. With a smile, Harry reached up and rubbed the wolf's head and scratched behind its ears. Then, he turned to the other boy.
"Remus, it's okay! Come here! He won't hurt you! I promise!"
After a few seconds of cajoling, the child finally came over to stand beside Harry, his eyes wide at the sight of the beautiful creature.
"You see, Remus. This isn't a monster. This … this is you. Or a part of you anyway. Right now, we're inside your head. And this wolf is … well, I guess we can call it your spirit animal. The part of you that's a part of the natural world. He won't harm you."
Gingerly, the child put his own hand out towards the wolf, which stepped forward and licked his hand as well. Then, it took another step and began to lick the boy's face to his surprise and general delight. With a giggle, little Remus suddenly fell onto the wolf and gave it a hug.
Despite his general cynicism, Harry found the scene remarkably heart-warming.
Naturally, that was when the real Monster showed up.
With a mighty crash, the werewolf burst through the woods on the other side of the clearing before throwing back his head and giving a bloodthirsty howl. Immediately, Harry saw that this werewolf looked identical to the one that was probably inches away from him in the real world. If the child was Remus as a human (still traumatized by his childhood infection), and the wolf was Remus as an animal (fully attuned to his animal-self), this was Remus as a werewolf, consumed with raw anger and savage appetites.
Instantly, Harry snapped his wand towards the beast while he tried to figure out what to do. He knew how to kill a werewolf in the real world, but he had no idea what the effect of using Sectumsempra on this werewolf while inside Remus Lupin's psyche would have on the man's health and sanity. Happily, it turned out not to matter.
Before Harry could cast a spell, the timber wolf moved in front of him and growled intimidatingly at the Monster. And then, even more surprisingly, the little boy moved in front of him as well, his terror of the beast completely gone.
"You don't scare me! Not anymore! D'you hear me?! You don't scare either of us! We're together now, like we always shoulda been! And you'll never scare us again!"
And to Harry's amazement, the werewolf did not advance. Instead, it staggered back as if struck before throwing its head back and howling wildly at the night sky. The power of the howl struck Harry as if it were a physical thing, and it seemed to push him back, back …
… back into his own body!
Harry shook his head to get his bearings. The werewolf Remus was still looming over him, but just as it had in the mindscape, it staggered back in distress before throwing its head back and howling madly. And then … it dropped to the ground and landed on all fours. Its entire body shook and then rippled before it started to shrink! After just a few seconds, the werewolf was gone completely. And in its place was the beautiful gray-white timber wolf that Harry had seen in Remus's mind.
It panted for a few seconds as if to recover from the transformation, and then, it looked up at Harry. The wolf's amber eyes gleamed with human intelligence.
"What in the name of Merlin's balls is going on here?!" Marcus/Regulus bellowed as he summoned his wand back to his hand.
"It's okay! Calm down! Remus isn't a threat anymore!"
In response, Lily and Jim slowly stepped away from the door to see.
"What … what happened?" Jim said dazedly.
Harry looked up at the others while idly scratching behind Remus's ears just as he'd done in the mindscape.
"Remus Lupin is – and always was – a natural Animagus whose animal form was a wolf! That's why his parents named him that on the advice of a Nomenographer. And I'll bet that's why Fenrir Greyback was drawn to attack him and turn him instead of killing him outright. I mean, if you think about it, there's no way a transformed werewolf could have failed to kill a four-year-old child unless there was something weird going on.
"If things had proceeded as they should have, Remus would have spontaneously developed the ability to transform into this form sometime after puberty. But Greyback bit him and infected him with lycanthropy when he was just a small child. He never lost control because his latent Animagery protected him, but at the same time, he was so traumatized by the experience of being a werewolf that he instinctively recoiled from embracing his animal side."
Jim stared at the scene in confused amazement. "So … he's cured?!"
Harry shrugged. "That, I don't know. We'll probably have to wait until the next full moon to test it because I certainly don't want him trying to turn back right now while we're all in here!"
The wolf barked once to indicate its agreement.
"But even if he still technically carries lycanthropy, as long he assumes his Animagus form before the full moon hits, he'll stay in this shape instead of becoming a werewolf. That's … mostly a cure, I reckon."
Harry stood and wiped the dust off his clothes. "So, now that that crisis is averted, we can get out of here. Let's take 'Uncle Pete' to the castle and summon the Aurors, maybe?"
"Good idea," Lily said. To one side of her, Regulus still stood quietly in the form of Marcus Flint, his eyes fixed on Remus as if waiting for the wolf to turn back into a monster. To the other side stood Jim, who could only stare at the unconscious form of Peter Pettigrew with an unreadable expression.
Moments later …
As the group exited the secret passage beneath the Whomping Willow, Harry was pleased to see Severus Snape rushing to meet them, along with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, with Theo following further behind. After stunning the real Marcus Flint and then summoning Regulus to take his place, Harry and Reg smuggled the unconscious (and likely still Imperiused) young man into the castle so that Reg could swap clothes with him.
Then, Harry sent his Patronus to a very surprised Theo No-Name, who was even more surprised by Harry's instructions: that he wait until 6:30 p.m. before rescuing Severus Snape from Pettigrew's weak attempt at a death trap. Harry was quite pleased to see that he'd timed everything perfectly, though the thunderous expression on Snape's face suggested that he might pay a price later for leaving the Potions Master unconscious in his own lab for several hours. Hopefully, Theo neglected to mention to him that the delay had been deliberate.
After Harry handed over the Secret note and explained everything that had happened – including the fact that the timber wolf at Harry's side was actually the Caretaker Malachi Sturgeon and also Remus Lupin the (maybe-not) werewolf – an astonished Professor McGonagall took charge of the situation and levitated Pettigrew back towards the castle, with a bemused Flitwick and a surly Snape following behind.
Suddenly, Lily spoke up.
"Professor Flitwick, would you please escort Jim to the castle and see that he goes to the Infirmary for a check-up? I'll be along shortly, but I need to speak to Harry for a moment."
"Mum?" Jim said uncertainly.
"It's okay, Jim. We'll only be a few minutes."
The Boy-Who-Lived hesitated before following the diminutive professor. Meanwhile, both Theo and "Marcus" gave intent looks to Harry, and he responded with a nod indicating he would be okay. Soon after, Harry and his mother were alone.
Lily took a deep breath. "First of all, let me say … you were amazing in there, Harry. I'm very proud of how you handled yourself and how you took down Peter. You're a credit to the instructors you've had over the last few years."
Harry blinked in surprise at the praise. "… Thank you."
The witch looked pensive for a moment before soldiering on. "Second … we need to talk about … what happened back in the Shrieking Shack. About … that sadistic Sophie's choice that Peter gave me."
"Sophie's … choice?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Sorry. It's from a movie that came out a few years ago. About a woman who … who's made to decide which of her two children would be killed in front of her."
Harry swallowed. "It's okay. You don't have to say …"
"I would have chosen you," she said, interrupting.
Harry's mouth hung open at the blunt revelation. Then, he nodded slowly. "O-of course. I understand. Jim's the Boy-Who-Lived and you're his mother. In the end, everything is going to depend on him. And so, if it comes down to the two of us," he paused as his voice broke, "y-you're always going to protect him at my expense. I'm sure James would approve."
Lily looked at him strangely and then chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that, Harry. I doubt that very much. And yes, I do have an obligation to protect Jim as much as I can for the sake of the world. But sometimes, being Jim's mother – and James Potter's wife – means having to think three or four steps ahead, because your father usually won't. And sometimes … it means taking actions he would never consider."
She took a step forward and put her hands gently on Harry's shoulders. "When I said I would have chosen you, I meant I would have chosen to save you over Jim."
Harry was shocked at her words. "Wh-what?! But why?"
She looked away, suddenly pensive. "Several reasons, most of which might sound cold. First of all, I don't think it was even a real choice. I think Peter really does care for Jim in his own twisted way, and he would have sent Remus after you regardless of what I said. But I thought it might throw him off if I chose you over Jim and so delay him until I could figure something else out. Then there's the fact that, as you said, Jim is the Boy-Who-Lived. That gives him some … power that I don't understand but which was enough to let him destroy Voldemort twice and to kill a Basilisk last year. I hoped that it might kick in again to save him if Peter really did set a werewolf on him, or at least protect him from catching lycanthropy. And if worst came to worst, I thought the Boy-Who-Lived would be better able to handle the effects of becoming a werewolf than his Slytherin brother who the Daily Prophet has been slandering for years."
Harry found himself surprised and almost shocked by Lily's reasoning. It was almost … Slytherin. He suspected Nidhogg would approve of his mother. And strangely, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.
"And finally," she continued after a moment's hesitation, "to be completely honest, I thought that if Peter threatened James with Jim's life, James would be more willing to do whatever it took to save us, even if it meant freeing Rookwood, than if he'd threatened to harm you."
The boy grimaced. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."
Lily bowed her head. Then, she looked into Harry's eyes with an intense expression.
"Harry, I want you to know … I love your father. Sometimes, I really wonder why. But I do."
"Have you checked for potions?" Harry muttered reflexively. Then, he blushed as he realized he'd said that aloud. But his mother just laughed.
"Yes, actually. I make it a habit to regularly check myself for potions. And while I'm probably not as good an Occlumens as you are, I am good enough to detect that sort of emotional manipulation. No, I'm afraid it's real love. But …" She hesitated.
"There are limits to what I'll tolerate for the sake of loving of James Potter. You know that he's … not rational on the topic of you being a Slytherin, right? I don't think that's going to change. He'll do whatever he can to remove you as a Potter."
"He can try," Harry answered darkly.
"Well, if it comes to that … would you consent to become Harry Evans and move in with me? Because if that's what it takes, I will divorce James and cut ties with him forever to take custody of you."
Harry looked at his mother in shock. "You would? But … what about Jim?"
Lily looked pained but soldiered on anyway. "Jim … would be safe with James. I'm certain of that. It's you that he has problems with. And he does so for reasons he thinks are valid, though I can't approve of how he's acted on those reasons. I would tell you if I could…"
She shook her head angrily. "Harry, I would do anything to protect you and Jim. I know I've made terrible mistakes trying to do so. I really did think you would be safe with Petunia and … that animal. Just as I really did think you would be better off separated from a family that's a lightning rod for Pureblood hatred. And I understand if you hold my mistakes against me forever. But if I can make it up to you, I will. And that includes taking you away from all this. Like I said – I know Jim will be okay with James and probably better off without me. You and I can leave all this behind. How does France sound?"
"… France?!" Harry nearly squawked.
Lily nodded. "You can transfer to Beauxbatons. We can even invite your friend Theo to live with us since the Sanction won't affect us there. And you needn't worry about money. Your grandmother Dorea made sure of that!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Harry said taking a step back. "This is all a bit fast. And I don't want to leave Hogwarts. I …"
The boy paused midsentence and then looked at his mother. And suddenly, he understood. Lily Potter knew about the Potter Prophecy. James had told him so in the prior timeline. And she was proposing this as her own way of averting it, by offering him a new life as an Evans in another country where becoming Prince of Slytherin would not be a possibility. Of course, he himself had already given up on his claim to Princedom and was still weighing the decision of leaving House Potter anyway. And this proposal might be a good option for Theo.
But it would also mean allowing Lily Potter to publicly and unambiguously choose Harry over his brother, just as she supposedly had once before in Jim's Dementor-fueled fantasy from the previous November. Such a rejection would, Harry suspected, effectively end any chance of the two brothers reconciling. And it would also leave Jim in the sole custody of a man who'd been willing to curse him with an Unforgivable.
A year earlier, Harry would have rejoiced in winning such a victory over Jim. But now?
"I need to think about this … Mum," he finally said.
She nodded with a smile. "Of course."
She put her arm around Harry's shoulders and walked with him up the hill to the castle.
St. Mungo's Hospital
7:30 p.m.
As he stared through the glass window, James Potter suppressed a shudder. On the other side of the glass, five hit wizards lay strapped down in hospital beds, their faces frozen into masks of terrified glee as they each continued to giggle and laugh softly despite being heavily sedated. According to the best Healers that St. Mungo's had to offer, the curse afflicting them was irreversible. For as long as these wizards and witches lived, they would either be unconscious … or they would laugh. Even eating and drinking would be impossible, and the St. Mungo's staff would need to regularly spell nutrient potions and water directly into their stomachs while they were asleep, or else they would die from malnutrition or dehydration.
The horror James felt at the fate of his fellow law officers was only worsened by the guilt he also carried. The hit wizards had been cursed by a dark artifact: a "toy" fashioned by Erasmus Wilkes before his death that had somehow come into the possession of Peter Pettigrew, James's best friend who it now seemed had been a Death Eater all along. And if Peter had a storehouse of Wilkes's toys, it probably meant that he was the one responsible for the attack on Jim Potter's birthday party in July of 1992. The attack that had left three people dead and several injured, including James's predecessor as Chief Auror.
And James had been blind to it all. And even worse, he'd stayed silent when Thicknesse reported that the Death Eater who accompanied Greyback's pack had been a rat Animagus.
The wizard was suddenly distracted from his ruminations by the appearance of a glowing silver turtle that materialized in the air beside him and spoke to him with the voice of Pius Thicknesse.
"Chief, I wanted to let you know. Peter Pettigrew has been captured. I'm afraid he was at Hogwarts. According to Professor McGonagall, he had taken your wife and both your sons as hostages, but your son Harry and a young man named Marcus Flint somehow got the better of him. We're having Pettigrew brought to the Ministry, but I thought you might want to go to Hogwarts and see to your family first. We can handle Pettigrew's interrogation."
The turtle Patronus faded from view. James stared vacantly at the space where it had floated. Then, a sudden mad cackle from one of the hit wizards startled him out of his reverie. He rubbed his hand across his two-day beard stubble before pulling out his own wand.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM." With a flash of light, a stag Patronus answered his call. "Go to Pius Thicknesse. Tell him … tell him that I will be there momentarily to observe the interrogation. I can check in on my family once Peter… I mean … once Pettigrew is processed and has delivered an initial statement."
The stag nodded once and then disappeared in a flash of light. James took one last look at the cursed hit wizards before turning and heading away towards the hospital's Apparation point.
Hogwarts
The DADA classrom
7:30 p.m.
It had taken Regulus some time before he could get away from all the people who wanted to question "Marcus Flint" about everything that had happened in the Shrieking Shack. Once he did so, the Metamorphmagus quickly made his way to the DADA classroom. Inside, there was a loud banging sound coming from within a locked cupboard. With a flick of his wand, the doors opened, and the real Marcus Flint fell out onto the floor – gagged, bound hand-and-foot, and naked save for a pair of bright yellow boxer shorts bearing the logo of the Wimbourne Wasps. He looked up at the figure wearing not only his clothes but his face and growled. With another flick of Reg's wand, the ropes and gag melted away.
"I do apologize for this indignity, Mr. Flint," Regulus said. "But I assure you it was quite necessary."
"Necessary?!" Flint spat as he jumped up from the floor in a fury. "And just why the hell was it necessary to knock me out, strip me, and stuff me in a cupboard like a pair of old boots?!"
"Peter Pettigrew had you under the Imperius Curse, and at his command, you were trying to capture Harry Potter so that Pettigrew could brutally murder him."
Marcus stared at his double in shock. "… okay, that's a reason, I reckon. You can explain the rest of the story after you give me back my bloody trousers!"
Azkaban Prison
The Warden's Office
8:00 p.m.
Warden Stark took a moment to rub his temples in the hopes that it might do something for his splitting headache. It had been six hours since his four new inmates had been processed and then tossed into their cells in the Maximum Security. And it had been just over an hour since the four werewolves had transformed. Even here, many floors above the Maximum Security level, the despondent and miserable howls of those four werewolves that were now under the effects of the Dementors could be heard.
"As if this rock needed anything more added to its charming ambiance," he thought bitterly.
There was a soft knock on the door, and at Warden Stark's gruff command, one of his top lieutenants entered bearing a nervous expression. Stark glanced up before returning to the reports on his desk.
"Good evening, Jenkins. From your arrival, I take it all our Dementors are back in the Pit where they belong?"
There was an awkward pause. "I think so, sir," he finally said. That made Stark look up from his paperwork.
"You … think so?"
The guard nodded anxiously. "I spoke with the Dementor who presented itself as the spokes … creature. Well, not spoke, but you know what I mean …."
"Get on with it, man!" Stark snapped.
"Yessir. Anyway, it said that all the Dementors have returned. Well … actually, what it said was 'All Remnants have rejoined the Body.' That plus some implied stuff about how it wanted to eat my children. But …."
"But what, Jenkins?"
Jenkins swallowed nervously. "But they came in single file, sir. And I could swear I only counted ninety-nine."
The private quarters of Severus Snape
8:30 p.m.
Severus Snape dropped down into his favorite chair and sighed loudly. It had turned out to be a surprisingly exhausting day, and he was ready for the weekend and the Easter Break that would follow. And after being rescued from the humiliation of getting ambushed, confined, interrogated, and nearly murdered by Peter Pettigrew, he certainly needed a break. Luckily, Pettigrew's murder attempt was ineffectual thanks to Snape's Occlumency defenses, but he'd still needed the assistance of Theo No-Name to leave his private laboratory, and he'd been too late to be of any assistance to Sensible Potter.
Snape frowned. There was something off in the timeline, he felt. He gathered that Harry had subdued the Imperiused Marcus Flint and arranged for his replacement sometime around 5:30, and yet, Theo had not been sent to retrieve him until an hour later. That much he'd gathered from his brief conversation with Regulus Black before sending the Metamorphmagus away through his office Floo. Of course, there might be an innocent explanation for the seeming irregularity, but Snape could not conceive of any other than Sensible Potter, for some reason, not wanting his assistance nor even involvement in an encounter with a Death Eater and a werewolf.
The Potions Master reached for the snifter of brandy on the table next to his chair and took a sip. He prepared himself to slip into a trance so that he could mentally review his interactions with Harry from earlier in the day to search for anything out of the ordinary. Possibly it was nothing, but Regulus had been decidedly evasive about some matters, enough to pique Snape's interest.
But before he could enter the trance, he was distracted by a soft knock on the door. He set the brandy down and went to open it. Waiting on the other side was Lily Potter, and she wore a more anxious expression than he'd ever seen on her face throughout their entire relationship. Despite himself, he tensed.
"Lily. Is there something wrong? With Harry or … the other one?"
Lily rolled her eyes. "His name is still Jim after all these years. And no, they're both fine. I just …." She paused and, to Severus's surprise, blushed slightly. "May I come in?"
He nodded his head slightly and stepped aside so his former friend could enter before closing the door behind her. She turned back and spoke.
"I just wanted to see if you were okay after whatever Peter did to you earlier."
Snape crooked an eyebrow. "I am perfectly fine, Lily. Pettigrew did nothing to me except to stun me into unconsciousness. The only harm I suffered came from embarrassment over him getting the best of me."
"Yes … I suppose he got the best of a lot of people." She paused again even more awkwardly. "It's just … he said that he'd killed you. I kind of blocked all that out at the time because the boys were in danger but …."
She took a deep shaky breath. "When we got out of the tunnel and you were there, it suddenly hit me that I'd thought you might have died without me ever…."
"Ever what, Lily?"
"Without ever apologizing to you. For being too stubborn to forgive you for what happened back at school. For never thanking you properly for all the sacrifices you made on behalf of my family."
"But you did," he replied. "November 15th, 1991. Just a few hours after Quirrell made his abortive attempt to harm your younger son during a Quidditch match." He tilted his head slightly. "Master Occlumens, remember?"
"Well, I'm not a master, but I have the memory of an Occlumens. And while I recall that conversation, my apology back then wasn't …."
"Sincere?"
"I was going to say from the heart," she answered. "I know I said I was sorry. And that I wanted my friend back. And I meant it. But I was also motivated by a desire to renew our friendship in the hopes that you would look after Harry in ways I couldn't. And you have and I'm grateful for it. But that's different than apologizing because I thought you might be dead, and I'd never have the chance to say …."
Her sudden pause hung in the air for what seemed like hours rather than seconds.
"Sev … can we talk?"
He blinked in confusion. "We are talking, Lily," he said, though he mentally added "albeit in one of the most stilted and uncomfortable conversations I've ever had."
Lily shook her head. "No. I mean can we really talk. Like we did when we were kids. Before Sixth Year when everything went wrong."
He stared into a pair of green eyes and wondered just how close he was to a catastrophic mistake.
"Can I get you a brandy?"
Hogwarts
9:00 p.m.
James Potter stalked down the halls of Hogwarts as anxious as he was exhausted. He'd only had four hours of sleep in the past day and a half, after all, and there was only so much Pepper-Up Potions could do. He'd witnessed the beginning of Peter's interrogation, but it had gone poorly. To James's surprise, it turned out Peter was a much better Occlumens than anyone had realized. Not good enough to lie exactly, but while under the effects of Veritaserum, Peter consistently answered "I don't know anything about that" to every question asked about his criminal activities or his history as a Death Eater. As the Chief Auror watched, he grew increasingly agitated over the proceedings to the point of trying to take over the questioning himself. It didn't help matters that he could almost feel every Auror in the room judging him for his missteps and foolishness.
Finally, Senior Auror Shacklebolt put his foot down and insisted that James leave the interrogation to Aurors who were not so personally involved in the case. And when James threatened to overrule him, Shacklebolt dropped the bomb. He leaned in close so that only James could hear him whisper.
"Is it really a good look for the Chief Auror and the father of the Boy-Who-Lived to be more focused on the Death Eater who embarrassed him than on the status of his own wife and children?"
James started an angry response but then noticed how many people in the room were guardedly looking at him out of the corner of their eyes. He tersely thanked the other man for his advice and left for Hogwarts.
Upon entering the foyer, he was surprised to find Jim's friend, Hermione Granger, waiting for him.
"Good evening, Chief Auror Potter," she said calmly, although James had the oddest feeling from her expression, as though it held a barely concealed disdain.
"Miss Granger, isn't it? You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? Do you happen to know where Jim is right now?"
"He's in the dorm. I'll be happy to fetch him for you. But first, you should probably check in on your other son. You'll find Harry waiting for you in the reading room across the hall from the entrance to the dungeons."
There was a ghost of a smile on her lips that, for some reason, made James uncomfortable.
"He asked me to inform you that he had something very important to discuss with you," she continued. "'Important Potter family business' was the way he described it."
Nonplussed, James nodded. "Thank you, Miss Granger. Would you ask Jim to meet me there, please?"
She gave a tight smile. "Of course." Then, she turned and headed towards Gryffindor Tower. James watched her leave with an uncertain expression before heading to meet with Harry.
He found his Heir moments later in the meeting room. Idly, James noticed that there were no portraits in here. In the middle of the room were two chairs on either side of a small table, upon which sat a worn old book. Harry sat in the chair farthest from the door, and he gave his father a welcoming smile when the man came in.
"Hello, Dad. It's great to see you."
"And you, Harry." James seemed to relax a bit at the sight of his son who seemed unharmed by the night's events. "How are you, son? Were you hurt? Did … did Peter … do anything to you?"
"Nothing I did not allow. Please, have a seat. We have a lot to talk about."
With that, the boy rose and sent a Locking Spell at the door, followed by three very high-level privacy spells. James's eyes widened in surprise as he cautiously moved to take a seat.
"First of all," Harry began. "This is for you. Or for the DMLE, I guess."
The boy handed over an expensive leather satchel marked with a brass plate bearing the initials "P.P."
"Pettigrew brought this to the Shrieking Shack. I found Jim's Invisibility Cloak in it. I gave that to Mum to return to him. I didn't think I'd be able to resist teasing him that this was the second time in two years he'd allowed it to be stolen by an agent of You-Know-Who, and I doubt he'd take it well. I didn't really look through the bag very thoroughly, but it also contained some papers, a few small bags of currency, some fake passports, and a lovely picture of the Marauders during your school days."
James winced as he took the bag. "Thank you, Harry. I'll get this turned over to the investigators first thing." He hesitated. "Listen, Harry. About Peter ... I hope you realize I had no idea …."
"Oh, of course not, Dad. He fooled you like he did everyone else. I'm sure no one will hold Wormtail's actions against you."
James winced at that. He felt quite the opposite himself, as he was not entirely sure of whether his career could weather the current storm. Then, he suddenly wondered whether Harry felt the same and was just being reassuring. Or possibly sarcastic. He decided to press on.
"We'll see what happens, I guess. So what do you want to talk about?"
"I want to talk about us. About you and me. About House Potter. And about … the Prince of Slytherin."
James stared at his Heir in shock for nearly five full seconds. "So … you do know about that!" he finally said in a shaky whisper.
"I know a few things about it. I know it's the real reason you sent me to the Dursleys. And the reason you sent me a drunken Howler on my first day of classes. I know it's why you turned against Jim when you found out he was a Parselmouth. And I know that's why you put him under the Imperius and made him fear and distrust me!"
Instantly, the blood drained from James's face. But before he could respond, Harry leaned forward and twisted the knife further.
"But most importantly, Dad, I know that this is how our world will end – in a cold yet all-consuming fire!"
Now in a panic, James shot out of his chair, and out of mad instinct, his wand was suddenly in his hand. "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!"
Harry leaned back, utterly unconcerned with the wand pointing at him. "That's not important. What matters is that I do know – every single word. And more importantly, that I have taken steps to ensure the Prophecy and your own use of an Unforgiveable against Jim will both get revealed if anything happens to me. So I suggest you put that wand back in its holster before you cast some spell that we both regret."
Slowly, James sat back down, retracting his wand as he did. Harry spoke again almost languidly.
"What I don't fully know but would like to hear is: How did you come to assume that I am the twin more likely to become this so-called Prince of Slytherin? What do you think it means?"
"I … I don't know what it means exactly. Jim told me that Ron remembered something about it from when he was possessed by Voldemort and talking with you in the Chamber of Secrets. That's when I panicked and … well, you know."
Harry looked at him dubiously. "That's it? That's all you know about this Prince of Slytherin thing that our family has fretted over for two centuries? That's why you set Jim against me in reckless hate? What makes you so certain that it means me?"
"You're the first Slytherin Potter since the Prophecy was uttered. It has to be you. I'm so sorry, but … I have to stop you, whatever it takes."
The boy smiled almost mischievously. "Well, yes, of course you do! I mean, if it's not me, then it would have to be Jim who's going to rise as the Prince of Slytherin. You know, the son who actually speaks Parseltongue and who vanquished the so-called Heir of Slytherin. The Last Potter to be born to our family. The one who actually was set against his brother in reckless hate by your hand. And what a personal disaster it would be for you if that happened!"
That last remark left James confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm referring to the fact that so much of our family's political and social status comes from the fact that Jim Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived, a fact that, among other things, has led to you becoming the youngest Chief Auror since the British Auror Corps was founded. I'm referring to the fact that if Jim, who is already the subject of one True Prophecy, turns out to be the subject of this other one as well, then you might lose your gravy train!"
James' confusion and fear suddenly gave way to anger. "HOW DARE YOU!"
"I'll dare anything I please, Dad! Your interpretation of that prophecy caused me to spend ten years sleeping in a boot cupboard and getting beaten for burning the toast, while Jim lived a life of luxury, and you lived in his reflected glory." Harry's eyes gleamed. "What you did to me was awful, James Potter. But did you know it was also a crime?"
Harry reached over and flipped the book on the table so that the cover was visible.
Divination and the Law
"After I found out about the other Prophecy and figured out why you were acting the way you were, I asked a friend taking Divination to do some research. Apparently, it's a felony to intentionally try to manipulate the resolution of a True Prophecy for personal gain. 'Prophetic Malfeasance,' it's called. There hasn't been a prosecution in centuries, but it's still the law."
James could only stare at his Heir in shock and confusion. "Harry, I never tried to … manipulate the Prophecy!"
The boy shrugged. "That's for others to decide. Between the Prophecy, the way you've treated me my whole life, and, of course, your decades long friendship with the Death Eater Pettigrew, I have enough evidence that you tried to shape events so the Prophecy pointed at me rather than Jim to at least get it before the Wizengamot. The sentence for Prophetic Malfeasance, if you're wondering, is two to five years in Azkaban. Although the bigger problem for you is that at your trial, you can be put under Veritaserum and be forced to admit that you used an Unforgivable on Jim! Which is, of course, a life sentence!"
James tried to respond, but the words got stuck in this throat. For a good ten seconds, he just blinked rapidly while moving his jaw up and down. Slowly, he lowered his head into his trembling hands, and after a moment, he began to sob. Harry frowned in annoyance, not at James's reaction but at his own. He'd been thinking about revenge against his father since the day he turned eleven. As the man began to softly weep in front of him, it was not as satisfying as he'd anticipated. After a moment, James slowly lifted his head and looked at his Heir with eyes wet with tears.
"Okay," he said softly in resignation.
Harry gaped in confusion. "… Okay? What do you mean … okay?!"
James sniffled as he spoke. "Harry, I swear to you that I never intentionally tried to manipulate the Prophecy to hurt you or for any other purpose except to avert it. And I am sorrier than I can ever admit for what happened to you at the Dursleys and for the way I treated you since you came back to the Wizarding World. But … you are right about my use of the Imperius. That truly was … unforgiveable of me. It was done out of instinct in a moment of pure panic and terror, but that's no excuse."
He looked down at his hands which were shaking as if he had a palsy.
"Everything I've done has been out of a desire to prevent the Prophecy from coming to pass. And everything I've done has only made things worse. As Lord of House Potter, I am a failure. So … I'm giving it up. I'll confess to using the Imperius on Jim and accept whatever punishment the Wizengamot gives me. You and Jim deserve justice. And I deserve Azkaban."
The Slytherin stared at him with wide eyes. "… WHAT?!" he shouted almost angrily.
"All I ask," James continued after pausing to wipe away some tears, "is that as the next Lord Potter, you promise to do whatever you can to avert the Prophecy. Get Jim the help he needs to overcome the Imperius so you can finally be the brothers you always should have been. Do whatever you can to make sure that neither of you becomes the Prince of Slytherin, whatever that means." His voice hitched suddenly. "B-be … be the Lord Potter that I could never be!"
Harry glared at the broken man in a mixture of amazement and consternation.
"Honestly," he finally said, "after nearly three years, I finally reach this moment, and you just had to take all the fun out of it!"
"Wh-what?" James asked shakily as Harry jumped out of his chair and began pacing the room angrily. After a few seconds, he even dilated his perceptions and focused his Occlumency skills on his own emotions to determine exactly what he was feeling and why he was feeling it. And once he finally understood his own emotions, he whirled around to look at his father in astonishment. Not astonishment over anything new he'd learned about James Potter. Rather, it was an astonishment over what he'd just realized about himself, about what sort of person Harry Potter really was deep down inside.
"You have no power over me anymore, James Potter. You can't do anything else to hurt me even if you wanted to. I'm free of you. And if I wanted, I could destroy you completely. But why should I? What would even be the point other than revenge? What would I really gain? You're no villain, not really. You're just a foolish man in over your head with burdens too heavy for you to carry. And punishing you for that certainly wouldn't undo all those years in the boot cupboard. It would only turn me into something I don't want to be. Just another Tom Riddle, lashing out at the world in the hopes that revenge for his mistreatment would make his pain go away. You're not worth my hate, James Potter. Certainly not anymore, if you ever really were."
Harry closed his eyes and took a long deep breath before exhaling slowly.
"I release you, James Potter," he whispered too softly for the man to hear. And just like that, he felt a great weight lift from his shoulders.
"What?" James asked again in confusion. "What did you say?"
Harry sat back down in his chair. "Never mind what I said. Let's talk about our options. Now we could do what you propose. You go to Azkaban for life. I become the new Lord Potter at the age of fourteen. I try to repair my relationship with Jim even though he'll probably hate me even more if I send our father to prison. And House Potter tries to weather the scandal of your crimes while Voldemort is lurking around in the background somewhere.
Then, the boy smirked. "Or … we cut a deal."
James's brow furrowed. "… what sort of … deal?" he asked suspiciously.
Harry looked around the room. "About a year and a half ago, I met with your good friend and solicitor, Peter Pettigrew, in this very room for what he called a confidential settlement negotiation. Did he ever mention that to you?"
James shook his head dumbly.
"At the time, he was pressuring me to surrender my Potter inheritance and leave the family. He even offered me two million Galleons for it."
Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Here's my counter-offer:Eleven million!"
"WHAT?!" the man exclaimed.
Harry frowned in annoyance. "That's the third time in under a minute you've just said what, James. Try to keep up. Eleven million galleons plus a few … concessions, and I will surrender my claim to the Potter Seat. I'll even change my name if you think it's necessary to avert the Prophecy."
James stared at his son in amazement. Harry snorted.
"Honestly, James, I know you don't think much of us Slytherins, but I assure you, I have no desire to play any role in the destruction of the world. If nothing else, that's where I keep all my stuff. But I'm not leaving House Potter empty-handed. You put me through Hell for my entire childhood. If you want me to walk away now, it's going to cost you. A lot."
"Okay, but … eleven million?!" James exclaimed.
Harry laughed. The last time they were together in this room, James had piously claimed that he'd be willing to die to prevent the prophecy from coming to pass. This time, he was haggling over money.
"Well, okay," Harry said amiably. "Eleven million is slightly less than forty-five percent of your liquid assets, which doesn't even include real estate or entailed property. But if that's too much, we can always go back to that Azkaban idea you were floating a few minutes ago."
"No, no!" James said hastily. "Eleven million is … fine. It may take me a little while to free it up, but I can manage it. So, what about your … concessions?"
"Well, the biggest one is emancipation," Harry said.
"Emancipation? But … you're only thirteen!"
"I'll be fourteen in August. If I take my OWLs this summer and pass them, I can get emancipated then on my own even without your permission. But as Lord of an Ancient and Noble House, you've had the authority to declare me a legal adult since my 11th birthday. That's how Pureblood families can get away with abandoning their squibs at that point when they don't get a Hogwarts letter. There's no problem with you granting me emancipation now."
"Okay, but … Harry, do you really think you're mature enough to look after yourself completely?"
Harry's scoffed. "I've pretty much been doing it since I was four. This is not negotiable, James. Under no circumstances will you or anyone else have power to control my affairs ever again. Are we clear on this?"
James nodded slowly. "What else?"
"Just two minor favors. First, I'm very fond of Marcus Flint and Nymphadora Tonks. And so, I would be very grateful if you would write Marcus a letter of recommendation to the Auror Academy and also that you get Tonks reinstated."
"Of course," James said easily, as if it were the sort of favor that he'd have done for his son just for the asking. "And the other favor?"
"You do anything and everything you can to clear the way to Sirius Black's exoneration."
Instantly, James's face darkened in anger, but then, he looked away and fought to collect himself. "I'm still not sure of his innocence, Harry. I know I've had memories altered. But I still can't help but feel anger towards him for what he did … I mean … what I thought he did. And I still have my doubts."
"Then, get over them," Harry said harshly. "I'm offering you what you've wanted for almost as long as I've been alive – the chance to save the world. In comparison to that, does it even matter if he's guilty or not if by freeing him you can get rid of the dreaded Slytherin Potter?"
The man's eyes flashed angrily. But then, he slumped in his chair. Harry was right – he had no choice in the matter. "Is that all?"
Harry nodded.
"Good," James said. "Because I have a few conditions of my own."
"Of course, you do. What are they?"
"Well, the Potter Prophecy is our family's biggest secret, and I can't let it get out." James suddenly looked frightened. "You haven't told anyone else, have you?"
Harry looked at him as if the idea were absurd. "Of course not!" he lied brazenly.
The man sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin! In that case, I have a special oath I'll need you to swear."
Harry smiled easily. "Naturally." Then, he casually checked his watch and was amused to see that he would be taking the oath again at almost exactly the same instant he swore it in the prior timeline. He pulled out his wand and swore the now-familiar oath once more.
"Anything else?" he asked while putting his wand away.
"Yes. Your … voluntary disownment won't be official until we announce it before the Wizengamot. Minister Fudge is calling another Emergency Session on Saturday to officially announce the end of the Azkaban crisis. As part of the House Business part of the agenda, I can formally emancipate you and then you can disclaim your Potter name." He hesitated. "But … just to set my mind at ease, will you swear an Unbreakable Oath to affirm our agreement?"
Harry wrinkled his nose at the implication that he might change his mind about something so important in less that two days, but he decided not to complain. "So long as our oaths are reciprocal, then yes."
James exhaled in relief. "I'll meet with you in the morning along with someone to act as a bonder." Then, he suddenly took on an anxious expression. "Will you be okay as Harry No-Name? I know that's caused a lot of problems for your friend Theo."
"Are you planning on using the Ultimate Sanction on me?" Harry asked innocently.
"Of course not!" he sputtered in genuine and shocked offense. "Merlin! I would never do something like that to you!"
Harry smirked as he rose from his chair. "Then, I guess I have nothing to worry about. I'll see you in the morning for that oath." Then, he headed for the door only to turn back when James called out to him.
"Harry! Thank you for doing this. And for saving Jim and Lily earlier this evening. I owe you more than I can say."
"No, you just owe me eleven million galleons. Not a bad price for saving the world, I reckon." Then, Harry looked at James thoughtfully and then gave a surprisingly warm smile.
"I almost forgot. Happy Birthday!"
With that, he turned and opened the door only to find Jim Potter on the other side. "Congratulations, Potter," Harry said brightly. "This time, we both win!"
The Slytherin strode past the Gryffindor while whistling a cheerful tune. Jim watched him go and then turned to his father.
"What did you do?" he asked suspiciously but not angrily.
After leaving the meeting room, a much happier (and wealthier) Harry Potter crossed the hall and entered the stairwell that led to the Slytherin dungeons. Halfway down, though, he was surprised to find that one of the paintings hanging on the wall had changed noticeably. Where it normally depicted a young woman in medieval dress sitting on a stool and playing a harp, it now depicted that same young woman standing on the stool and gesticulating in terror at the flaming snake that had crawled into her portrait. It was Esme, the ashwinder who normally resided in a painting that hung in the seldom-used COMC classroom on the first floor. And she had been waiting for Harry, it seemed.
Harry looked around to make sure they were not observed, and he cast a quick Revelio to be sure.
"Hello, Esssme," he hissed. "It'sss been a while."
"Yesss, it hasss," the ashwinder replied. "But I have not come for a sssocial visssit. I bring tidingsss from the Hydra Throne. You are sssummoned."
Harry nodded in surprise and then continued down into the dungeons, as he wondered what the Hydra wanted. The Throne's last words to him had been rather final, after all.
Moments later, he had made his way through one of the many secret passages to the Lair's entrance and he let himself inside. Then, he bowed respectfully to the serpents.
"You asked to see me?" Harry said in human speech.
"Yes, Harry Potter," said Rajah the Basilisk in a deep echoing voice. "Since you left us, we have spent much time in deliberation, and we have reached a verdict. By a unanimous vote, your request to withdraw your claim to become the Prince of Slytherin is denied."
Harry did a double take. "… denied? I don't understand. How can you deny my choice not to become the Prince?"
"The purpose for which the Hydra Throne was created is to judge potential claimants for their worthiness to sit as Prince," the Basilisk continued. "We may find a claimant suitable or unsuitable, but we may not ignore the question of any claimant's worth once our evaluation has begun. Likewise, even if a claimant ultimately refuses to take up the mantle of Prince, that does not relieve us of our obligation to confer it if it is truly deserved."
"… What?" Harry asked uneasily.
"Long have I watched you, Harry Potter," said Jormungand, the Exemplar of Diplomacy. "From your earliest days at Hogwarts, you have cultivated not just allies but true friends and from among the unlikeliest candidates. Your skill at politics and diplomacy is unquestioned. I judge you worthy."
"Well, thanks, but I don't see …." But the Ashwinder interrupted before he could finish.
"Though I chastised you last year for a lapse into thoughtlessness, you have shown great improvement," said Mara, the Exemplar of Cunning. "Even while falling to your death, you kept your mind as keen as a razor's edge and so defeated your enemies. I judge you worthy."
"What is happening here?" he asked a bit more urgently.
"Your intelligence sets you apart from all of our House, Harry Potter," said Ka, the Exemplar of Intellect. "Your standing among your academic peers speaks for itself. I judge you worthy."
"Now everybody just hold on a second!"
"Well, it goes without saying, darling, that I have always found you a delight!" cooed Delilah, the Exemplar of Charm. "Naturally, I judge you worthy."
"Well, I like you too, Delilah, but just listen…." Harry began before the three-headed Runespoor spoke over him.
"You are fluent in the ways and means of the Wizengamot, as befits a future Lord," said Tisiphone, Megaera and Alecto, the Co-Exemplars of Tradition in three-part harmony. "Your occasional lack of decorum concerns us. Yet we know that you have taken up the highest tradition of Wizarding Britain, opposition to those who would use and misuse That Which Is Forbidden. Despite your tendency towards frivolity, you have clearly taken your place on the Watch Tower. We judge you worthy."
"The … Watch Tower?" the boy asked in confusion.
"I have had my doubts," growled Nidhogg, the Exemplar of Ruthlessness. "Your refusal to slay the traitor once he fell under your hand gives me pause, as does your decision to spare your father from complete ruination. But the true test of Ruthlessness is not what you are willing to do to your enemies, but what you are willing to do to your friends. I have watched as you intentionally allowed Remus Lupin to be captured by the traitor, as you risked the life of Severus Snape to advance your scheme, and as you sought to turn your own father against your brother as a method of weakening his resolve and breaking his will. I approve and find you worthy."
"PLEASE STOP!" Harry yelled, even as his mind reeled at the knowledge that he'd gained Nidhogg's approval through several recent and dubious actions over which he felt profoundly guilty. "Everybody! Just stop and listen to me!"
But Rajah, the Exemplar of Ambition, continued relentlessly. "Like Nidhogg, I have had my doubts about you. You are young and have not yet fully articulated any greater vision for yourself or for the world. You have set yourself against the Dark Lord Tom Marvolo Riddle, but it is not enough to be against something. True ambition means to be for something greater than yourself.
"But then, today, you came to us, warned us of the Prophecy you had heard, and disclaimed the role of Prince, a position for which you have worked diligently since the moment you became aware of it. You sacrificed your ambitions for the Greater Good. Not the facile Greater Good of weak pretenders who mouth those words only as a way to rationalize their own misdeeds. The true Greater Good only comes from the sacrifice of self for the benefit of all. The highest purpose of the Prince of Slytherin is to subordinate one's own goals and desires to the betterment of both this House and this World. And by seeking to withdraw your claim to this office for selfless reasons, you only proved your fitness for it. I find you worthy."
Harry stared at the Throne, dumbfounded. "I … I withdrew my name because there's a Prophecy saying that THE WHOLE WORLD MIGHT BE DESTROYED IF I BECOME PRINCE!"
"We are aware of this," Rajah said casually, as if the matter were a minor inconvenience. "We recommend you make averting this Prophecy and saving the world from destruction an important priority for your administration. The Throne is yours … Prince Harry Potter."
To Harry's right, there was a flash of light as the wards that protected most of the rare books and grimoires lining the shelves from contact suddenly dissolved. Then, there was a loud whoosh as a fire spontaneously started in the fireplace. A second later, Tweak, the Slytherin house elf, appeared with a soft pop carrying a bucket of Floo powder which he carefully placed next to the fire. The elf then snapped his fingers, and a bowl of Harry's favorite snacks appeared on the conference table along with a cold butterbeer with a straw already sticking out of the top. Tweak bowed respectfully before popping away.
Harry stood slack-jawed for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he roused himself from his stupor and made his way around the table towards the Throne. Halfway, he stopped in front of the wall of silver placards identifying his predecessors. A new placard had been added at the end, one bearing the name "Harry Potter." On the bright side, at least the Throne hadn't immortalized him as "Hadrian." He continued on around the table before finally plopping down onto the Throne. He looked around the room from this new vantage point before finally speaking his first words as the Prince of Slytherin.
"SONOVABITCH!"
An empty alleyway near Whitehall in Central London
11:00 p.m.
The offices of the Ministry of Magic were located within a ten-story subterranean structure beneath the seat of the British Muggle government, specifically in a structure that had only existed since the early 1700's. When it came time for the newly established Ministry of Magic to construct a headquarters, it decided to simply expand the preexisting network of caverns that had been used by the predecessor organization to the Department of Mysteries for over a thousand years, long before the foundations of Londinium were laid. These narrow caves and tunnels were made much, much larger through the application of permanent spatial expansion Charms powered by the dedication of multiple ley lines that crisscrossed the area. Eventually, what had been a nest of caves each no more than a few hundred square feet was expanded to more than 1000 times its prior volume.
The Ministry facilities were then built inside that immense void of "wizard space" and constructed with all the amenities one might expect in the early 18th century. But over the following decades, the Ministry, despite whatever feelings subsequent administrations might have had about Muggles, was always keen to take advantage of improvements those Muggles introduced to civilized society.
And so it was that when the Muggle Parliament responded to the Great Stink of 1858 with an extensive modernization and expansion of the London sewer system, the Ministry, with just a few construction Charms, easily connected its own internal plumbing to the system so kindly engineered by the Muggles. In all the years since, it never once occurred to any Ministry officials aware of this bit of historical trivia that by doing so, they had unwittingly created a "back door" through which one could access the Ministry's offices from the Muggle world while bypassing all of the building's magical security features.
Granted, any such intruders would have to be quite small.
With a soft pop, Yvette Dubois Apparated into the alleyway and looked around, her eyes somehow both alert and glassy at the same time. Finding that she was unobserved, she made her way to a nearby culvert, her wand in one hand and an over-sized carpetbag in the other. She took a moment to cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm in case any Muggles drove past who might see her. Then, she set the carpetbag down on its side with the top facing the culvert. Carefully, she opened the enchanted bag, and its contents promptly poured forth and ran into the culvert, causing a lengthy succession of splashes as they each landed in the sewer water below.
When the bag was finally empty, Yvette disposed of it in a nearby garbage bin before Apparating back to her apartment. Then, she went to bed. Her mission complete, the Imperius Curse she'd been put under ended. She would remember nothing of her late-night mission when she awoke the next morning.
Hogwarts
The Astronomy Tower
11:50 p.m.
The Prince of Slytherin stood atop the Astronomy Tower and surveyed his domain. To his mild embarrassment, the furious expletive he'd uttered upon taking the Hydra Throne had been witnessed by the Bloody Baron. The Slytherin House ghost had picked that moment to walk through one of the walls, congratulate him on his new position, and then chastise him for vulgarity unbecoming of a personage of his stature. That was only the beginning of a very interesting conversation with the ghost who was known for being as taciturn as he was menacing. It was quite likely that the Bloody Baron said more to Harry over the next hour than he'd uttered to any other living soul in decades. The Baron had given Harry much to ponder over his upcoming break. Indeed, until their meeting, Harry had never even considered that the ghost might have an actual name, one that was a secret known only to the other House ghosts … and to the Prince of Slytherin.
Idly, Harry reached into a pocket and removed a small brass orb which he casually examined. He'd gotten it from Anthony Goldstein earlier that day and carried it with him into the Shrieking Shack in order to record Peter Pettigrew's confession. While the orb had done the job, it had proven redundant, as memories taken from Lily Potter along with the falsified evidence left by the Azkabal for the Ministry to find were more than enough to convict Pettigrew, particularly since the man, now a known Occlumens, could not testify in his own defense under Veritaserum. Still, the recording might have other uses depending on how the next few days played out. For one thing, the orb now contained a recording of James Potter's confession to using an Unforgiveable. Harry felt confident that James was sincere in agreeing to his terms, but it was always nice to have a backup plan.
Also, he would be meeting with the Unspeakables in the morning, and once the Time-Turner was back in its four-dimensional lockbox, he would be making a business proposal to Saul Croaker, which was something else for which he might need insurance. The Slytherin touched the orb with his wand and said: "Replay at 6:43:12." In response, the sound of Peter Pettigrew's snide voice emanated from the orb.
"And who do you think would help a wanted war criminal emigrate like Gustav Kleinwuchs emigrate to Britain and set him and his son up with fake identities? The Unspeakables, of course. They were willing to overlook his … indiscretions in exchange for all of his research notes from his work during the War."
Harry tapped the orb again to stop the playback and returned it to his pocket. Then, he looked out over the Forbidden Forest below. Remus Lupin was off somewhere roaming in that forest for the night. Before entering the castle, Harry had told the wolf Animagus that he would meet him behind Hagrid's hut at dawn and deliver him some clean clothes, and the wolf had barked its assent.
"Apparently, we're going with one bark for yes and two for no, I suppose," the boy thought to himself.
High above, the full moon still shone brightly in the night sky. He exhaled loudly in frustration. Until the Hydra Throne made its unexpected pronouncement a few hours before, Harry had been exceptionally pleased with how the new timeline was going. Granted, Neville once more hated Theo because of the Ultimate Sanction, but at least he was still a Longbottom. Sirius was free and would soon be exonerated. Marcus, Remus, and Regulus were all still alive. And instead of being Sanctioned himself, Harry had walked out of House Potter with his head held high and eleven million galleons richer.
And all it had cost him was becoming the herald of the world's end.
"And the worst part is," Harry thought ruefully, "I only became Prince because of the steps I took to avoid becoming Prince!" Suddenly, his face assumed a horrified expression. "Oh God! I really am James Potter's son!"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry snickered and then shook his head at the absurdity of it all. It was nearly midnight, and soon, quite literally the longest two days of his life would be over. Tomorrow, he would get up bright and early and start trying to figure out how to prevent the mysterious Dark God from rising to destroy everything. But now, it was time for bed.
"Before something else happens," he thought ruefully. Then, he exhaled again … and was surprised by the sudden fog of his breath and the eerie cold that descended over him. He cursed under his breath even as his wand shot out into his hand, and as he whirled around, he could almost hear Blaise Zabini chastising him about challenging the Gods of Irony.
On the other side of the room stood a Dementor. The Dementor.
Harry raised his wand. "EXPECTO …" But before he could summon his Patronus, he was shocked when the Dementor raised its hands as if to show it came in peace!
"Waaaait," the creature rasped in a voice like rusted metal.
Harry froze in amazement, his wand still trained on the Dementor. He couldn't see its face beneath the thick drooping hood, but its hands looked different than before. They were still pale and rotting but somehow more … substantial.
"[I/We] … [I/We] … [I]… [I]… I … am … here." The Dementor's whole body shuddered as if it were choking on the words. It tried again.
"I am here," it said with ponderous authority.
"Yes," Harry said. "I can see that." But the Dementor slowly shook his head.
"No. I am here." Then, the creature pointed a finger at Harry as if in accusation. "You destroyed me. I knew you when I saw you. Knew I was to take your soul. Yours and that of the other one who wears your face. Knew I was to end you or you would end me. And I did. I took your soul. But then … I did not. And in time, you destroyed me instead."
Slowly, the Dementor lowered its hand. "And yet … I am here. How?"
"Things happened," Harry answered. "And then, they happened again but differently. Times change."
The Dementor nodded slowly. "And now? If you do not like the new story you have written for yourself, Shaper of Worlds, will you tear out the page and rewrite it once more?"
"No," Harry said firmly, although the Dementor's portentous words shook him slightly. "I don't expect to have that opportunity again. I think we're both stuck with whatever … plot developments await us going forward."
The creature was still for a long moment before it spoke again.
"I am … separate from the Body. Cut off from the other Remnants. I do not hear the Great Dirge. I am … alone."
The Dementor glided forward a few feet, and Harry's hand clenched his wand tighter.
"I hate you for that, Harry Potter," it said. "And I love you for that."
Harry swallowed nervously, as he honestly didn't know whether the Dementor's love would be better or worse than its hate. "Uh-huh. So … what happens now?"
"Now … I shall go from this place. I must study this. What I am. What I am becoming."
The Dementor turned towards the nearby window but then stopped and looked back to Harry.
"But … I tell you this, Harry Potter. We shall meet again."
"I can't wait," Harry muttered. The Dementor continued as though it had not heard him.
"At the beginning of the end. When the tower falls, and hope falls with it. When the Three are rejoined to nestle within the coils of Ouroboros. Call my name, and I will come to you and walk with you unto the ending of the world."
Harry sighed in annoyance. "Terrific. Another bloody prophecy." But the Dementor shook its head.
"No. Not prophecy. It is simply something that will happen. It will happen because it has already happened. It is happening even now as we speak. You simply cannot see it because your mortality blinds you with illusions of linear existence."
While Harry tried to understand that remark, the Dementor turned again and stepped to the edge of the window.
"You said to call your name," the boy called out. "I don't even know what your name is!"
The Dementor paused but did not turn around. It stood perfectly still for so long that Harry began to wonder if the creature itself even knew a name to give him. But then, hesitantly, almost painfully, the creature spoke.
"My brother … called me … Fabian."
And then, it stepped off the ledge and was gone, leaving Harry Potter alone with his thoughts and fears.
Next: Time moves forward … finally, as Harry wakes up to a shock that's only the start of a very busy morning.
AN1: Check out the Sinister Man's web presence on the POS wiki, the POS TV Tropes page, and my Discord server (through which you can see advance previews of this story as it is begin written). Also, the Sinister Man would be profoundly grateful if you checked out my P*****n page and supported my original fiction. Patronage is not necessary to get the free POS previews via Discord.
AN2 (What the Sinister Man is reading): Nothing new, I'm afraid, although The Boy Who Lived by Gatalicious continues to impress.
AN3: Special thanks to my Discord editors:
Anne-athema Codex, blowback, BlueWater5, Darkarus, darkphoenix31, Dr. Nemo, EssayOfThoughts, FeatheryMinx, Gabe, HeidiWolf, Krisni, LadyLaran, LFGB, Madz, Magica, nh1, pizdets, Pokeflute, PrettyPinkCupcake, ProgKingHughesker, SE, Tesselacta, TzarDeRus, and Vin5. Thanks guys!
AN4: Vital Statistics: Reviews: 13,321 (12th). Followers: 14,316 (32nd). Favorites: 12,487 (11th). Communities: 214. Discord followers: 2539! Go Team POS!
AN5:I keep forgetting to say this, but special thanks to Discord member sigurd for coming up with "Azkabal' which is so clever I couldn't not use it.