Is This The World We Created

Chapter 10

"Why do you need herbs in little bowls? I mean can they do? Are they just ornamental to make it more dramatic? Because it does look more dramatic I have to say," Stiles blathered on, watching Harry intently, as he had done for the past ten minutes, while he set up the 'alter' in preparation for the ritual. "It didn't specify on the paperwork…so, does it do anything?"

Derek and Peter just allowed Stiles to ramble on, it was his way. They were all anxious, there was no denying that. Every single of them was tense in a way they hadn't been since they found sanctuary.

"They'll go on fire during the ritual, it gives greater focus, all herbs have magical qualities. They allow us to do spectacular things with potions, but primarily, they were used in rituals first…before potions were created purely by accident." Harry explained calmly, "These are all important, they're primarily in magical boosters, replenishers, it will give us a little push."

"How can it boost a sparks powers when they're infinite?" Stiles asked, cocking his head to the side. Not even startling when Derek's fingers interlocked with his, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance and safety. Trying to ground him, be his anchor in these troubling times, just as Stiles had been an anchor for him in all the disquieting times in his life. And there had been a great many.

"Yours isn't right now," Harry pointed out dryly, as he shifted another bowl of fresh ingredients into position "If anything you're less powerful than you've ever been in your life. The Nemeton is draining your magic to try and survive, the potion temporarily boosted your spark, gave it a much needed kick otherwise I believe you would have been in a coma by this…" he didn't say anything else, but all of them suspected Stiles would have already been dead by this point despite everyone's best efforts.

"I half expected there to be a pentagram," Stiles continued, but his voice wasn't as frantic as it had been before Derek took his hand.

"That's a mundane belief," Harry said shaking his head, "Creating one and casting 'spells' does nothing. You cannot gain magic if you're a Mundane…" adding as if suspecting exactly what he would ask next, "Druids may be weak…but they do have some semblance of magic in them." Druids were the lowest on the totem pole when magic was concerned…barely better than a squib.

Stiles wasn't surprised by that comment, he'd yet to see anyone use pentagrams or anything ritualistic where it came to supernatural TV series in reality. Then again, they wouldn't have the real deal would they? He really hoped this worked, the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

Then again they were all going to die if they didn't do this anyway.

Derek scowled, "I just wished we had a specific time and date," mulishly.

Harry glanced up from where he was crouched, "Me too," he confessed, his mind casting back to Teddy, to everyone he'd lost. No doubt, the Hales and Stiles were having similar thoughts, the goodbyes from the pack had left them feeling bereft Harry reckoned. They'd been with each other for over a half decade, doing everything together…so this must be difficult for the other members too.

"Before you do this…can I talk to you, Mr. Potter?" Chris asked, making an appearance. "Privately?" so that nobody else would overhear what he had to say.

Frowning in silent contemplation, "Very well," Harry stated, standing from his crouched position, bowl in hand, he placed it in his position before walking over to Chris, erecting a silencing spell.

"I know...what's going to happen…to the hunters," Chris said, a look of pain crossing his features, not all of them had been bad. "But I beg of you…please, my daughter…my daughter deserves better…anything, anything is better than what you have planned…please, have mercy on her." He didn't care about anything else. If they succeeded in this, he prayed for his daughter above all else. "Let her live, let her live her life."

"But does she though? You stood by and allowed your sister and father into her life despite knowing what and how they were…I want to hear nothing of your denials, the only reason you woke up is because a human spat what they were in your face. A human you were threatening, you hunters don't give a shit about the lives you take, human or supernatural." Harry said raising his hand sensing Chris' protests. He hunched in on himself eventually and nodded, it was true, he had been in deep denial and it had taken Stiles to wake him up. However, he did take offence…until he vividly recalled how he was in the beginning of all this, back in Beacon Hills. How expendable the lives humans had been, not just to him but his father and wife. "You're really no better than those you profess to hunt."

Chris winced, realizing the deep seated hatred Harry harboured would not allow for him to take pity on anyone. He had to try, for Allison's sake, he had to try. "I never wanted my daughter to be part of the hunter community, regardless of my wife's desires. I was never going to allow her to become a huntress or the matriarch of the Argent family…I was so determined of that, the moment I held her in my hands the day she was born." The only child he had, Victoria only had a child to continue on the line, she'd been so very glad she was a girl so she had done her duty without needing to go through it again. Unfortunately, his family and wife had worn him down until he suddenly found his little girl dating a goddamned werewolf of all things.

"Too bad you didn't stick to your guns, couldn't even claim a backbone for your daughter." He sneered, flicking his wand, lowering the silencing spell, stepping back having nothing more to say on the subject. With a huff of disgust, he turned back and round and walked away from the hunter, leaving him devastated.

Derek nodded at Chris, just the once, and Chris closed his eyes tears threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't need to have words spoken, he knew what Derek meant. He would do what he could, for Allison, despite all she'd done to him…he would do what he could and that was a soothing balm to his soul. He just prayed that they went back far enough that Allison was alive. Oh, how he prayed to a deity he didn't believe in that they succeeded.

With that Chris slunk away, not wishing to antagonise Harry further. It was only once he was in the tent, that he hadn't actually specifically said he would be dealing with her like the rest of them…but he also hadn't said he would help her. It was with that hope, he clung to as well.

"It's time," Stiles said, his voice taking on a rich deep timbre, sounding almost bell like.

Harry glanced up at the moon, the last of the cover of clouds were beginning to fade. "It's time," Harry agreed, placing the last bowl at his feet, "Let's begin," and with that Derek, Stiles and Peter entered the 'ritual' dome, as the wolves of the pack ran free under the full moon without fear of being hurt and maimed.

Within seconds Harry messily slashed his own left hand, squeezing it into a fist, hand over the bowl allowing the blood to drop down, murmuring in Latin the entire time, handing over the athame to Peter, beautiful crafted with amethyst stones inlayed into the handle.

Peter copied what Harry did down to the last move, before he began chanting in Latin, the words coming easily to him, he had already been more than familiar with the language before this. After he was done, he passed the athame over to Derek, the blood gleaming in the moonlight.

Unlike Peter, Derek wasn't good with the English language let alone Latin. He'd been reciting the words all day, both mentally and out loud, but they didn't flow as smooth as Peter or Harry's did, and he hoped that he wasn't screwing anything up. After his own blood joined the load, Stiles went last, and he under then why.

The glow of magic was heavy and thick in the air, every witch, wizard, druid, mage and spark had to now know someone was performing a ritual. There was no hiding it, the very air around them seemed to sparkle with it.

Harry breathed shakily, as he held out the time-turner closing his eyes very briefly, before breaking the glass in half, and allowing the sand to pour out of it and into the blood, he could do this. They could do this. Merlin, he hoped this worked.

Harry then drew a bloody rune on his hand, repeating the process on Derek, Peter and Stiles, shuddering at the immense magic surrounding him. Caressing him, it reminded him so much of Hogwarts that he almost felt as though the school was here, sentient and watching over them.

The open vial containing the phoenix tears, floated through the air, as Peter, Stiles and Derek chanted out the words, before they all clasped hands, their grip tight to the point of pain, having no desire to be parted from one another.

As they began to chant faster, the vial slowly tipped over, and the phoenix tears dropped into the bowl the last thing they felt was an explosion of magic so strong they were literally blown from one another before darkness creped upon them and then they knew nothing.

Harry's body twisted and arched painfully, a scream of pure unadulterated agony ripping out of his throat. Writhing in torment, Harry curled up in a ball, gripping his head tightly, time held little meaning, but at some point, he stopped screaming unable to force sound through his ripped and torn vocal cords. Even the slightest vibration caused so much pain that it was unbelievable.

Nothing was heard within Grimmauld Place.

Whimpering quietly, his entire body shaking, he opened his eyes before squeezing them shut, before his mind lost consciousness, as years upon years of memories invaded his mind.

It was the 25th of January 2005 at precisely 4:45PM

Ten-year-old Stiles Stilinski laughed as he played video games with his best friend Scott McCall. It quickly trailed off though, as he begun to feel very odd, feeling like he'd forgotten his Adderall for weeks…like he was about to vibrate out of his skin.

"Stiles?" Scott questioned, glancing at his friend, wondering why he had stopped playing. Not at all concerned, it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it, lost in thought as he so often did. He nudged him to bring him out of his thoughts so they could continue playing only for Stiles to crumble like a puppet with his strings cut.

The scream Stiles let out had Scott jumping in the air, his heart pounding in terror. "STILES!" scrambling for the phone, he called his mom, desperate for answers.

"MOM! It's Stiles! He's passed out and screaming! Like he's in lots of pain!" Scott shouted down the phone, so utterly terrified that something was wrong with his best friend. He barely heard his mom call out to her friend, before she spoke to Scott again.

"What happened?" she asked her son, hating that there wasn't an adult there with them. Unfortunately, as a single mother she didn't have a lot of other options, or any at all really. Neither did Noah, but they felt a little better knowing their kids weren't alone.

"He just started screaming!" Scott said, breathing panicking, searching around in his pocket for his inhaler, and using it.

"There's an ambulance on the way, just stay calm, can he breathe?" Melissa asked, she could hear the screaming, and god it chilled her to the bone.

"We've alerted the Sherriff,"

"Thank you, Mary," Melissa said, anxiety thrumming through her, goodness, what could be causing Stiles to scream like that? Had her son lied to her about what they were doing? Had they gotten hurt playing? Had Stiles broken a bone? No, her son wouldn't lie about something as important as this.

"The…the ambulance is here," Scott choked out, scrambling for the door, letting the paramedics in to see to his best friend. The game they were playing already forgotten.

By the time they were lifting Stiles onto the stretcher, he had quietened down. The paramedic's quietly alarmed, he didn't seem injured at all. Those screams though…well, they'd never heard anything quite like it.

"STILES!" came the shout of Noah Stilinski as he barrelled into the house, breathless and terrified. The siren and lights still flashing on his cruiser, forgetting everything in a bid to get to his son. Thank god he'd been in the area and it had been easy to get to the McCall house once he'd been alerted on the radio.

"We need to get him to the hospital, Sir," came the calm and collected voice of the paramedic.

Noah dumbly nodded, staring at the unconscious face of his son, swallowing thickly. "Go, go, I'll be right behind." Noah said, only remembering Scott because he knew Stiles and the boy were always in each other's pocket. "Turn off everything, quickly." He ordered the boy, not caring he was being curt, he needed to get to the damn hospital, he wanted to know what was wrong with his son.

Glancing at the time, he pinched his nose, work didn't matter in the face of his son's life. Not for the few hours he had left on duty. 5:11 PM, he would need to get someone to cover for him for what was left of his shift. It was only a few hours anyway.

Noah actually bet the Ambulance to the hospital able to take shortcuts that the ambulance wouldn't be able to get through safely. Getting there to see his son carted through the doors of the hospital.

He despaired at the thought of yet another medical bill, especially while still paying off Claudia's…but the alternative didn't bear thinking about. It just meant taking on more overtime, thankfully he had such an understanding kid. Christ he wanted a drink, badly. He refused to leave his kid though, he wanted answers.

Stiles wasn't the only one who collapsed under mysterious circumstances but since he was at the hospital he had no idea what was happening.

Derek Hale, flung the ball at the hoop, barely budging when he was rammed into by the opposite teams players. He did grimace a little as the sweat clung to his skin, he unlike the other boys wasn't sweating. It would take a great deal more to get him to work up a sweat. He loathed the scents that clung to his skin, scent that wasn't his pack. Or Kate. His mind was most definitely on Kate, she had said she had a surprise for him tonight, he couldn't wait to see what it was.

To nobody's surprise, the ball went through, Derek was one of the best players on the team. Grinning smugly at the hollers from everyone, his sisters the loudest. The entire team all converged on him, cheering as they were now well in lead, they couldn't lose.

Just as they were all patting him – very manly mind – on the back, Derek's eyes rolled up and he collapsed on the floor. The team tried to prevent his tumble, but they were unable to hold him up.

They cringed and backed away when Derek screamed as though he was being flayed alive.

"DEREK!" Laura called, shoving people out of the way, as she clambered over the seats in a bid to get to her brother as quickly as possible. "MOVE!" she hissed, using her not so inconsiderable strength to get them to move. Ignoring all the warnings her mother had given her regarding the fragility of humans.

"DEREK!" Laura crouched down beside her brother, eyes blown wide in fear. Quickly covering his hands, terrified that he would change in front of everyone…by the moon what was happening?

She could hear everyone talking and speculating, she hated it.

Worse, she could hear that an ambulance had been called. Oh, no, this was going to go downhill very, very fast. "He's alright, it's just a seizure, I'll call our mom to come get us." Laura feigned knowing what was wrong, "There's no need to call an ambulance."

"He's just had a seizure, he needs the hospital lass," came the voice of Finstock, the coach. Watching over one of his favourite players, he'd been a coach and teacher for all of a few years, but even he could see how bad off Derek was. He'd rather see him continue the game of course, winning was everything, but he didn't want to see any of his students harmed.

"He doesn't," Laura insisted, "He'll be fine," staring at her brother who had fallen quiet and still wasn't wakening up. "He'll be just fine…" she trailed off, her voice was filled with fear and so it wasn't believed.

It was 6:39 and when Laura called, her mother didn't pick up, too busy trying to stop her own brother seizing.

Laura followed Derek to the hospital, still trying to get in touch with her mother.

Then at 6:59 everyone in the Hale house began to feel weaker, as the mountain ash was coated around their home cutting their senses.

Then at precisely at 7:00 instead of having dinner as planned…surrounding Peter as they were trying to wake him up…firebombs began to rain down upon them imbued with aconite.

It seemed somethings were never destined to change. Then again, Harry had said, changing time was more difficult than one could imagine.

LOL I'd apologise for this cliffie but I'd have to constantly apologise if I did :D So, will the fire still happen and the Hales all but decimated…or will one of them wake up in time to save everyone? Will Laura end up Alpha? How long will she end up Alpha for? What of Scott? Will he still be killed or just closely monitored for the rest of his life? If the Hales survive would Talia even retain her alpha status or will the very healed Nemeton strip it from her? Will Harry arrest her? R&R please