A/N: There is graphic content in this chapter. Violence, mostly. This story is rated M for Mature.
To Hell and Back Again
Cedric felt his feet slam hard into the ground. He collapsed, his whole body throbbing with pain. The Triwizard Cup fell from his hand and he groaned. Confused, he staggered to his feet and looked around. They had obviously left Hogwarts. Even the mountains that surrounded the school were gone. His eyes widened as he realized they were standing in a dark, overgrown graveyard. The black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to the right. A hill rose to the left, still covered in headstones.
"What happened?" he asked, still turning in place. "Where are we?"
Harry didn't answer. Cedric turned to look for him and stared open-mouthed as the younger boy dove behind a headstone and out of sight. He called out to the Gryffindor, but instead of answering, Cedric heard muffled whimpers. He took two steps forward before he heard someone quickly approaching. Relief flooded through his veins and he lifted his wand, casting a Lumos.
"Hey! Over here! We need help!" he called, as he moved around the headstone.
Harry was curled up on his side, both his hands pressed into his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut; his face twisted with agony. Cedric's eyes went wide with horror when he saw the lightning scar split open and begin to bleed. He didn't know what to do.
"Someone help!" he yelled frantically.
A short, pudgy man with a balding head and beady eyes grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Cedric started babbling about being from Hogwarts, and how they had grabbed the tournament Cup, which sent them here. The man ignored him, lifting Harry into his arms and walking further into the graveyard. Cedric followed anxiously, watching as his classmate gasped and sobbed, twisting in the man's arms.
"I don't know what happened," he said again, beginning to feel a bit faint.
The man put Harry down against one of the biggest headstones Cedric had ever seen. Harry thrashed, his eyes still closed, and a horrible whine of pain rose louder and louder from his throat. The man twirled his wand, muttering under his breath. Cedric's mouth fell open as silvery cords of rope wrapped around Harry's chest and stomach several times, strapping him to the headstone.
"What are you doing?" Cedric rushed forward, planning on releasing Harry, but the man turned and blasted him backward. He screamed as his back hit a headstone, stars of pain exploded behind his eyes.
"It is done, Master," the man simpered.
"Very good…"
Cedric shivered. The voice so horrible, he wanted to hide. He noticed that Harry had stilled. The agony slowly leaving his tortured face. Whatever had been hurting him had stopped. Panting, he got to his feet again and lifted his wand. He was beginning to understand that they had been captured, and he had to get Harry out of here.
"Kill the spare, Wormtail."
"Avada Kedavra!" the man yelled without hesitation.
Panicked, frozen with horror, the seventeen-year-old didn't dodge, didn't shield. He could only watch the sickly green light rush toward him. And he fell without a sound, his eyes still open. Dead.
xXxXxXx
Boy stared, tears pouring endlessly from his tormented eyes. Slowly, he looked up at the man and knew he was going to kill him too. He whimpered and shook, wishing desperately that he could be good for once and not need to be punished. But then the man turned away without so much as shouting at him, and Boy broke down into sobs of relief.
His relief shattered when fire blazed suddenly to life, revealing a large pot several feet away. The man lifted a bundle, something moved inside, and Boy screamed as a pale baby was dropped into the pot with a splash. No, not fire! It hurt and hurt and hurt. He screamed and wept, begging not to be cooked.
The man was still ignoring him, and he forced himself to stop screaming. He didn't want to make the man madder. Maybe the man couldn't see him? Was he hidden? Boy hunched against the stone and tried desperately to be silent, but the fire was blazing and the water was boiling now. He was terrified.
He flinched when the man slashed his stick. But he wasn't hitting him with it; no, he made the ground explode up. Dirt rained down on them and a big bone came floating over. The man began yelling, and he dropped the bone into the pot. Shouting again, the man lifted a large knife. Boy's mouth fell open in a silent scream of horror, remembering the pain of steel when it was slashing and stabbing through his skin, and muscle, and bone.
But the man didn't turn the knife against Boy's body. He pressed it to his own wrist, bracing his hand on the edge of the pot. Then the man screamed and put all his weight behind the blade, cutting his hand off completely.
Boy jerked, urine pooling under him. Oh… he was in soooo much trouble. He was so bad. He had made the man hurt himself. Oh nooo! He was so much trouble… a very bad boy… oh no no, oh no… He shook his head slowly, eyes wide and horrified. His whole body was wracked in tremors and tears flooded his vision as the man, hissing and sobbing, approached with the bloody knife.
His froze, everything stopped. His whole body locked up with panic; his lungs stopped pulling in air; his heart stuttered in his chest. The man brought the knife down. Boy arched, a faint scream tearing through his tight throat as the knife slid down his arm from his elbow to his wrist.
xXxXxXx
Wormtail shuddered as he looked down at the small teen bound to the headstone. He had never seen someone so… afraid and vulnerable. Harry's face was drenched with tears and his face was a mask of fear and pain. He didn't even look human anymore. He looked like a wild, terrified animal.
"I'm sorry…" the boy whimpered, gasping in wet sobs of air between almost every word. "Sorry… sorry… please… sorry… I'm sorry… don't hurt… don't… please… don't hurt… I'm sorry…"
Wormtail grit his teeth. His vision pulsed red and then black, and he was afraid he was going to faint. His hand… No, don't think about it!… He lifted the empty vial and filled it with the child's blood. Merlin, just shut up… He stood and almost fell. No… He had to finish. Fear kept him on his feet. The thought of failure made vomit rise in the back of his throat. He swallowed and hurried to the cauldron.
"Blood of the enemy…" -- He couldn't breathe. Focus! -- "…forcibly taken. You will…" -- Shut up, stop crying! He couldn't think. Don't fail, can't fail, keep going! -- "…resurrect your foe!"
Wormtail dropped the blood into the cauldron and fell backward, collapsing in on himself, curling around his missing hand as he wept. He had done it! He finished! He wouldn't be punished anymore. He'll be rewarded! He did it! His master would be so pleased! He wished desperately Harry would SHUT UP!
xXxXxXx
Voldemort rose from the cauldron. The air smelled sweet, and the sound of sobbing terror and screaming pain greeted him. Pain and pleasure flashed along his nerves, and he laughed loud and long, his bare feet once again pressing into soft earth. He opened his eyes and examined his body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long, white fingers caressed his own cold, clammy chest. He could see all his ribs, the long flat stomach, and thin legs.
With a small flex of magic, he summoned black robes and a mirror from his house. His head was hairless. He didn't even have eyebrows or eyelashes. But, oh, what wonderfully evil eyes! They were red, - red as wet blood - and slitted like a snakes. His tongue was thinner and longer than human, his ears were just holes on the side of his head. Yes! Yes, he was fearsome! He was awesome to behold, and he was back. He was alive!
Only now did he look around, dropping the mirror and sighing in bliss at the sound of it shattering. His eyes skimmed past the whimpering Wormtail, and froze on his foe- his hated wretched foe. Triumph and lust spiked through his new heart, and his tongue lashed out to lick his thin, bloodless lips.
Beautiful, beautiful sight: the horrid child was utterly broken. He was a master of pain, an expert in torture. He knew without a doubt the wretched Potter child was absolutely crushed. The worthless brat's mind was so consumed with terror that he'd never find his way out. Potter was his!
He cackled madly and yanked his pathetic servant up by the arm. He ripped the rat's sleeve free and dove his long nails into the mark he found there. Wormtail thrashed like a fish at the end of a line as the Dark Mark turned black, the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Voldemort watched his servant's pain, delighting in every twitch and cry of pain.
"How many will be brave enough to return?" he almost crooned, his mouth opening in a bloodthirsty grin. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"
xXxXxXx
Severus' jaw ached from gritting his teeth so long. Two and a half hours he had been waiting. What was taking the bloody child so long? Delacour and Krum had already been found. Harry and Diggory were the last champions standing. Maxime and Karkaroff were both livid, suspecting foul play, but none of them could leave until the task was over. They still had to vote.
What was that idiot thinking? Was Harry actually trying to win? No… Severus knew better than that. Something else was going on. And why wouldn't that blasted fog shift? He couldn't see the center of the damn maze. It had been hovering for almost twenty minutes. Surely it should move by now.
His thoughts shattered, Harry forgotten, as his arm began to burn, the mark searing against his skin. He let out a loud gasp, taken completely off guard. Karkaroff actually cried out, his eyes wild and panicked, before leaping from the platform. The judges called out in shock and dismay, but Severus ignored them all as he moved to follow.
The Dark Lord was back, and that meant Harry was most likely with the madman. He had to go; he had to protect Harry as much as he could. And if Harry wasn't there, he would bluff. Any intelligence he gained from going could be used to protect Harry in the future. But before he could jump, someone grabbed his upper arm. He turned to look into Dumbledore's cold blue eyes and opened his mouth to scream. Too late! He hadn't reacted fast enough… He had hesitated… and the headmaster activated his portkey.
Severus was pulled from the platform and flung through space, the headmaster never letting go. He knew from that one glance into the man's eyes that Dumbledore didn't want him to go to Harry. The headmaster knew what was happening, and he wanted Harry to fight on his own. This was just another godforsaken test to Dumbledore; another way for Harry to get 'stronger'.
Severus' whole soul convulsed with horror and rage. He wouldn't allow Harry to be hurt. He wouldn't allow a fourteen-year-old child to suffer under the Dark Lord's sadistic care. The horror of Severus' past as a Death Eater flashed before his eyes, he imagined his Harry being seeped in that abject evil, and his whole being fought back. An enormous wave of power spiked from his core. The portkey twisted, gave a huge jerk, and dropped them a little short of its destination.
The two wizards fell almost fifteen feet to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Severus tried to stand, but couldn't make it passed his hands and knees. His head was spinning, and he had to breathe deeply to keep from vomiting. Disgust rose to choke him as he realized where the headmaster had tried to transport him. Deep underground, at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower, there was a prison cell in which the use of magic was impossible.
Severus flew to his feet, despite his weakness, rage twisting his face. He looked demented; his black robes flaring around his legs, flapping like wings in the wind; his greasy hair lashed around his head, slapping his cheeks. Dumbledore looked just as formidable as he stood unyieldingly before his pupil. His long white hair and his bright robes were now sinister in the dark.
"Why are you doing this?" Severus rasped hatefully. "He's just a child!"
"He is more than a child, my boy," Dumbledore answered. His eyes were cold and hard. "You know that as well as I do. He must be prepared for the future. I am merely doing what I must. There was a time when you knew that, Severus."
"The Dark Lord has your precious weapon!" Severus roared. "Do you think he will SURVIVE?"
"Harry is stronger than you give him credit for," Dumbledore scolded, staring evenly over his half-moon glasses. "Voldemort has been a spirit for a decade. He will be weak. Harry will hold out against him." His expression softened with compassion as he tried to sooth the former spy, "I don't plan on allowing Harry to die. He is needed. If he's not back in an hour, I will retrieve him."
"An hour?" Severus gasped, horrified. "You're mad!"
"Don't do this," Dumbledore warned, pulling himself to his full height. Power cackled around him threateningly. "You will not win."
"Look at yourself, Albus!" For the first time ever, he stood up against the old wizard's might, and Dumbledore's eyes went wide with surprise. Severus braced his feet, took up a dueling stance, and flung the brutal truth at the man he had once respected. "Look at what you've done! You're an advocate of severe child abuse! You have deliberately imperiled a child's physical and mental wellbeing, and you continue to do so!"
"I've done what I've had to for the world," Dumbledore said sadly. "I don't expect anyone to understand the decisions I've had to make. But look at Harry; look at what I've created! How can you tell me I'm wrong? He is exactly what the world needs!"
"What you have done to Harry is reprehensible. You are using him, as you used me and everyone else around you," Severus snarled, his eyes burning with hate and fury. "I won't allow you to continue in this madness."
A spell flashed over his shoulder. Severus didn't need to look to know the headmaster had locked the door back down into the tower. Severus bared his teeth in a vicious grin and fired the strongest blasting curse he knew in retaliation. He knew this was futile. Dumbledore was a stronger wizard and couldn't be outsmarted, but Severus had to fight this battle. He had to fight for Harry. Even if he were to lose.
xXxXxXx
Draco's gray eyes took in the disturbance on the judge's platform. He knew something was happening, something had gone wrong. And he knew in his heart that Shadow was in trouble. He maneuvered through the crowd, trying to get closer. He was halfway there when a sixth year Ravenclaw practically screamed in his ear. A cutting insult almost flew from his tongue, but he swallowed it as he saw where she was pointing.
Dark clouds were spiraling around the top of the Astronomy Tower. Lightning flickered and slashed, but didn't strike. In the bright seconds of light, Draco made out the colorful robes and white hair of the headmaster and a figure in black. Spells splashed and cut through the air. They were dueling, and no one who was at all sensitive to Dark magic would think it was play. Draco could feel it: the dark intent of wizards bent on killing each other. And that meant the man in black was Professor Snape.
Draco ran. He ran as fast as he could back to the school. He took every short cut he knew to get to the Astronomy Tower. He couldn't allow the headmaster to kill Shadow's mentor. Severus' death would crush his best friend. But more than that, Draco knew that the only reason Professor Snape would fight the headmaster so openly was to protect Shadow. If he allowed Severus to fall, then the headmaster would do something horrible to his friend. Draco had promised to help protect him from this threat, and he would not fail. He would not!
He slammed into the door that lead to the roof and cursed when he found it locked. He backed up and began every unlocking spell he knew. He began using Dark spells, none of the Light ones working. Thankfully, the second one made the lock shatter. Draco slammed the door open and had to throw himself flat, a blood reversal hex speeding over his head. He winced. That was not a pretty way to die. He lifted his head and his eyes went wide.
Severus was on the ground, still shooting curses and hexes, but his left leg was torn and twisted, blood was pooling around him. Dumbledore was approaching slowly like grim death. He had a white spell-shield before him, and Severus' curses ricocheted off it crazily. Dumbledore incanted something Draco had never heard before. Severus screamed, a hoarse grating sound, but he didn't lower his wand. Blood spilled from his eyes like tears and began to fall from his nose. Panting, shaking, Draco raised his wand.
"Forgive me, Severus. I have failed you," Dumbledore said sadly. "I thought I could guide you to the Light. I thought I could protect you from the Darkness. I was wrong." He lifted his wand level with the snarling man's eyes. "Go in peace, my boy."
"Release the bolt of Zeus!" Draco bellowed. He stood, feet braced, his blonde hair whipping around his face, his eyes wide and bright with fear, his face pale. But the pink bolt of light struck from his steady wand and hit the headmaster squarely in the chest.
Dumbledore collapsed instantly. His wand flew from his hand as he began to convulse, choking noises rising from his mouth as his spittle began to foam over his lips. Draco watched, horrified as the old man's eyes rolled violently in his head. Skin was scraped from his hands and face as the headmaster scraped them roughly across the stone floor. Suddenly, the horrific view was cut off by black robes.
Severus stood on one leg and shook the teenager hard. "WHAT DID YOU DO!?!" he bellowed. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?"
"Vetch poison…" Draco gasped, feeling numb and sick. Was it even possible to feel numb and sick at the same time? "With basilisk venom…"
"Basilisk…" Severus whispered horrified. He spun around, heart rocketing in his chest. "Avada Kedavra!"
The evil green light hit the old, broken man. Dumbledore was too far gone to shield against it, and even though he died instantly, his body twitched for several seconds more before finally stilling. Severus cast quick cleaning spells- banishing the vomit, blood, and sweet smelling sweat. But it wasn't enough. The headmaster's skin was a yellow green. Strange bruising from his violent convulsions was already beginning to show. It was obvious something besides the Killing Curse happened to him.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked faintly as Severus levitated the body.
"Saving you and Harry from Azkaban," Severus spat and released his spell. Dumbledore's body fell from the Astronomy Tower, falling three hundred feet before slamming into the ground.
"Wha..?" Draco groaned, definitely feeling ill. He was going to puke.
"You STUPID boy!" he bellowed. "Didn't you think there would be an investigation? They would have found out rather quickly that the headmaster was poisoned! And when they found out basilisk venom was used, don't you think someone would remember one had been loose here two years ago? And there is only ONE person in this school who can reach the bloody basilisk! You as good as signed Harry's name to a confession!"
Draco said nothing. He felt like he were dreaming. His teacher's face was streaked with blood and his eyes were flashing with fury. He didn't look human. He was more like some grim ghoul, lost and wandering the earth… Draco shuddered and wrapped his arms around his chest, trying valiantly to breathe. Why were his teeth chattering?
Severus fought to level his voice, taking a deep breath before continuing. He was loosing the teen to shock. "Now any diagnostic spells will reveal a Killing Curse as the cause of death. And the fall should eradicate the physical evidence of poison. Hopefully, no one will think to test his remains for chemical residue… Now… I need you to focus," Severus said softly, yet remained as hard and cold as steel. "We need to get away from here, and I need help reaching the apparition boundary."
"You're going to Shadow now?" Draco asked faintly.
"Yes." Severus limped over and wrapped his arm around the teen's shoulders, making the Slytherin into a crutch. "Hurry, Draco. Every second you delay leaves him alone with the Dark Lord."
xXxXxXx
Voldemort perched on the large headstone Harry had been tied to. The boy had been released and lay, crumpled, at the foot of the headstone as the Dark Lord idly flicked his wand. Deep slashes opened up in the teen's skin, and the last of his shredded clothes fell free of his bloodied body.
Boy flinched and sobbed weakly. Blows hit him, though none of the men moved. Invisible knives cut into his skin and his vision lurched as he spilled more pain and blood into the earth. He didn't know where the next blow would land, where the next searing blade would tear at his skin. He kept his strength poised, frantically healing as much as he could without erasing the marks on his body. He had learned long ago that healing the damage completely was bad. He had to leave some evidence to show he had been properly punished, or his uncle would be mad.
The air shifted, and the sound of Wormtail's whimpers and Boy's sobbing was disturbed by the sound of many robes swirling. Voldemort lifted his head, his eyes hard and piercing as he watched the masked and robed men and woman approach him from the darkness. Finally, they came to his summons.
There was a strange pause as the Death Eaters uncertainly approached the Lord they thought long dead. Voldemort smiled his bloodless smile and waited for his pitiful followers to make a move. Then one of the robed figures dropped to their knees, head bowed so low their forehead brushed the ground. The others followed, sinking like a dark wave, the white masks winking out of view.
"Welcome, Death Eaters," he said gently, and the crowed shivered. "Thirteen years… Thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday… We are still united under the Dark Mark, then… Or are we?"
Voldemort rose to his feet, stepped gracefully over the broken child, and stalked through the gathering of his robed followers. Nagini, looking larger and more monstrous in the uncertain light, slithered in his wake. Her tongue flicked out and she tasted all the kneeling, shaking Death Eaters. Voldemort laughed, eyes wide with excitement.
"Yesss, my sssweet…" Voldemort half-hissed, half-spoke. "We smell guilt, my dear servants. I see you all, whole and healthy… And look! Even more are coming as I speak…. I ask myself, why? Why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"
No one spoke, another shudder spreading among those kneeling. Wormtail found the strength to get to his knees. He looked up at his master, but Voldemort turned away from him pointedly, and the craven man said not a word. One or two Death Eaters formed out of the shadows and knelt at the edge of the crowd. Voldemort watched them come - blood-red eyes pulsing - but he said nothing to them. Instead, he moved back to the headstone, retaking his seat as if it were a throne.
"I answer myself," he said coldly, his voice carrying to the furthest ear, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment." His voice began to lose its painfully indifferent edge. It dipped and rose, lengthening almost into a hiss. "But how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who know the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?"
He leapt from the headstone again, and the Death Eaters flinched back. Voldemort smiled and knelt. He wrapped his long fingers around the small throat of the teen at his feet and stood, lifting Harry with him. Green eyes, uncovered by glass -his glasses long broken, stared into the face of his tormenter. He was so terrified, he hung limp in the unnaturally strong grip as he was lifted off his feet.
"I say to myself," Voldemort whispered, caressing the face of the shaking teen, "perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. That an infant could destroy their master!"
The gathered followers stirred and murmured their denials. Voldemort flung Harry at them, and they parted. Allowing the child to fall to the ground among them. Boy cried out in pain before scrambling to his knees, covering his head and rocking, begging loudly between shuddering sobs not to be hurt.
"This is the child you all feared. This is your Boy-Who-Lived!" Voldemort yelled. "Tell me, Avery, are you afraid of him now?"
"Master!" a masked man near Harry shrieked. "Master, please forgive me! Forgive us all!"
"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed, his wand slashing out.
Five of the Death Eaters fell with Avery, howling in pain. Harry flung his hands over his ears, screaming with them, green eyes wide with uncomprehending horror. Voldemort laughed, the sound high and insane. Wormtail, curled into a tighter ball around his missing hand, terrified and almost mad, himself, with pain.
"Enough," Voldemort sneered. "Stand. All of you stand!"
They did so uneasily. The ones recovering from the Cruciatus Curse having to lean on their neighbors. Voldemort stalked into their midst, stopping when he towered over the rocking teen. He smiled as he saw Harry chewing on his fingers, trying so valiantly to be silent. He flung his wand out and the teen arched off the ground, screaming hoarsely, his naked body convulsing.
"This is the Light's only Savior, and he is nothing but a bug!" Voldemort snapped his other hand out. All thirteen masks flew into his hand. He held them up and they burst into flame. "I will not forget your failings, my beloved servants. Never think I will. But you are mine. You are all mine again. This time you will do better!" He gestured at Harry, who was shaking his head desperately, tears cleaning blood from his cheeks. A weak hand reached out to him, pleading for mercy. "Show me you have not lost your touch. Show me your disgust for this pathetic child!"
xXxXxXx
Boy had never known such pain, such fear. Pale faces with cold, unforgiving eyes bore down at him in a tight circle. There was no escape. They fed from his pain, were deaf to his pleas. His Uncle hurt him, punished him, but he always stopped. He granted relief when his punishment was over. But there was no end to this pain. There was only never-ending agony.
All the different kinds lapping over one another as he was twisted, torn, broken, burnt. He couldn't feel his body and his power thrashed madly around him, hurting him as much as the monsters as it tried to fix the immense damage. He became pain, a world of madness. Everywhere, everlasting, flashing heat of broken shards crushing his body, until there was nothing else. Forever; always, broken blood of boiling torment searing the bones of insanity through his shattered skin.
xXxXxXx
Severus apperated and found himself in a graveyard. He staggered, almost falling, but it had nothing to do with his bad leg. The screams… Merlin, he'd never heard anything like it. It lasted too long. And when they stopped, they echoed in the air, lingered and clung to the shadows and fluttered weakly there, threatening to come to life at any wrong move.
He opened his eyes, not remembering shutting them. He moved toward the crowd of gathered Death Eaters, hands trembling, terrified of what he'd find when he reached them. Then he saw his Master. The Dark Lord was monstrous, his features disfigured and horrible. He shuddered and forced himself to keep moving forward.
The Death Eaters let him pass. None of them even glanced his way. They all stared forward, still as statues. He limped forward, his breath coming faster and faster as fear pumped through his heart. He was almost to the front when he saw his child. The Dark Lord cradled the teen in his arms - a sick parody of care and concern.
Harry was naked, and his body… It was… Merlin, it… Severus closed his eyes against the sight, but could still see it splayed on the back of his eyelids. Harry's body was… a canvas of pain and torture… No patch of flesh was the same. There were… segments of burnt or missing skin… of exposed organs… of bones broken and puncturing through soft tissue… Blood was spattered everywhere, it filled the air with its heavy scent…
But even worse than that, Harry's eyes were wide and empty of all higher consciousness. They were mad, sparkling feverishly with insanity as they darted around wildly. His lips were pulled off his teeth and he grunted with effort and pain after the end of every panting breath. There wasn't a human mind behind those eyes. There was nothing at all salvageable.
"Amazing child," Voldemort crooned into his victim's suffering ears. "Even still you work to heal yourself." He lifted his eyes and let them rake over his followers. "Remember this, my darlings. Lord Voldemort is capable of mercy."
Wormtail flinched away as Voldemort approached him and laid the broken child on the slightly raised ground he had occupied. He looked away from Harry, turning his whole body so that he practically sat with his back to the writhing mess that had once been a fourteen-year-old boy.
Voldemort raised his wand, his eyes starving and hot with lust as he pointed it at his nemesis…. Severus knew what was coming, but he didn't move. He couldn't. He was struck dumb, immobile with horror. He was too late…. The Death Eaters all held their breath. Wormtail began to weep…. Licking his lips, Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, caressing the words as one would say the name of their lover.
"…Avada Kedavra…."
The green light slashed through the air. Harry arched, his broken body tensing as the green spell-light enfolded his broken body. It pulsed and cackled around him, and his head thrashed back and forth until it tipped backward. A horrible scream of rage tore from his already battered throat. His head snapped back down, green eyes blazing with the light of the Killing Curse. His black hair lifted and stood almost on end, and as the scream stretched impossibly on, the curse was slowly absorbed- the wounds on the tortured body healing that little bit faster.
The Death Eaters flinched back. Panicked cries broke the tableau. Voldemort hissed as he cast dark curse after dark curse, only for Harry to absorb them all. And then the scream stopped, only to be replaced by cold laughter. The Death Eater ranks broke and they began to flee. Small bloodied hands lifted, fingers crooked and tensed, bent like claws, and they slashed out.
The running Death Eaters screeched in agony and fell, blood spraying the air. Severus flung himself to the ground. He instantly recognized Demon. The only way to survive the unending wrath of the alter was to not be a target. If Demon didn't notice you, there was a chance you would walk away from the destruction.
Voldemort didn't know this, however, and he lifted his wand and placed himself in the direct path of the demented alter. "You are on the brink of collapse, and you have very little power left to you by now," he hissed. His face lit up with unholy glee as he took a brave step forward. "I am going to prove my power by killing you, here and now. There is no Dumbledore to help you, no mother to die for you. You will die tonight by my hand, Harry Potter!"
Power matching that of Dumbledore's - but dark, so dark - shimmered around the monstrous form of Lord Voldemort, and it was fresh and barely used. The Death Eaters stilled and aborted their escape, watching the scene unfold avidly. Severus crawled backward, slowly, never looking away from Demon. They were fools to think the Dark Lord could protect them from this… madness inside of Harry.
The green light finished soaking into his shredded and beaten body, and Harry lifted his head. His eyes still flashed and his lips pulled off bloodied teeth. All of the internal damage had finished healing, but the surface damage was great and had barely been touched. Demon didn't notice. He could move now, his body wasn't in danger of dieing in the next half-hour, and that was all that mattered to him.
"You." Demon spoke his first word. His voice was hoarse and smoky, and it lashed out at Voldemort with pure hate and disgust. "You…Will PAY!" The last word was roared. Demon lashed out, flinging extremely heavy headstones flying through the air.
Voldemort dodge and shouted, "Excrucio dolor morsus!"
Demon didn't try to avoid it. He walked forward, walked right into the spell, his face twisted with a horrific smile. Roaring in pain and fury when it hit, he staggered, but pulled himself upright and continued moving forward toward his target.
Voldemort's eyes widened and quickly cast again. "Contego! Eradico manus manus!"
The first spell was swallowed in the wave of magic that poured from Demon's hands, the second ricocheted and hit an unsuspecting Death Eater. The woman shrieked as both her hands burst into flame. In seconds, all that was left were two charred stumps. Demon cackled his cold laugh, hungry and delighted. He kept walking forward, unstoppable and relentless.
"Adflicto affligo!"
Demon slapped the spell away. He bared his teeth, howling, as he suddenly leapt. Voldemort tried to dodge, but two powerful fists slammed into his chest. He flew backward. Eyes wide with pain. He landed hard on his back, the fall accompanied by the sharp cracks of his ribs breaking. Demon stood above him, staring down at Voldemort, looking like something that crawled out of hell.
Voldemort couldn't believe it. Furious, confused, and hurt, he prepared to apperate. And then the dark magic hit him. It slammed into him like a tsunami. His teeth rattled in his head, and his new body bowed backward. On the edge of the red and black flashes of pain and darkness, a grating, hate-filled voice reached him.
"You created me… You brought me into this miserable life…"
The voice paused and the clawing, cloying power pulled back enough for him to see burning green eyes inches from his face.
"I hate you," Demon said softly and slammed his will forward.
With a pained scream, Voldemort disintegrated, completely destroyed. His killer went ridged, the Dark Lord's death sending shockwaves through Demon's mind, but as the cold darkness snapped sucked him under once more, he laughed with deep satisfaction.
xXxXxXx
Severus pulled himself to his feet. The storm that had built over the graveyard finally burst as the duel ended, sending rain and lightning lashing to the earth. The Death Eaters that were still alive had long ago fled. Fighting the gusting wind, dragging his left leg behind him, he made his way across the broken graves. The backlash of power from the duel had ripped up coffins and shattered headstones, making the terrain treacherous. Severus bowed his head and kept moving.
He crested a small hill and looked down to see Harry sprawled boneless and unconscious. There was no sign of the Dark Lord's body. Severus hadn't expected there to be. He staggered down to his charge. A brief flash of light revealed the horrendous damage still remaining to Harry's body. He knelt, hunching over the teen to keep the cold rain off him, and lifted Harry's cold hand.
The teen never took off his ring or bracelet for any reason, and Severus rejoiced in that habit. With trembling hands, he put Harry's hand over one of the many gaping wounds across the teen's abdomen, coating the ring in blood. Holding tight to his charge, Severus stripped off his outer robe and wrapped it around the injured teen tightly. He tapped his wand on Harry's chest and whispered words. Gold threads appeared and spelled out short instructions.
"Take me home," he said firmly.
The portkey activated and Harry disappeared, soon to arrive in his bed back at their home. Severus wanted to go with him, but there was much to do. Omi, Lupin, and Black would be able to care for Harry, and he had to act now if he were going to try and limit the damage this night had caused.
Gathering all the strength he could, he went back to the Diggory boy. He grabbed the Cup and began reversing the portkey spell. While he worked, he plotted cover stories for what happened on the Astronomy Tower and here in the cemetery. When the Cup was ready, he activated it, carrying Diggory back to Hogwarts and his parents.
xXxXxXx
The chaos at Hogwarts was extreme. He set off a mass panic when he arrived with Cedric Diggory's dead body, one leg bloodied and lamed, and without Harry Potter. Minister Fudge and the Diggorys were screaming for Severus' death. Students were crying and demanding to know what was happening, demanded to be allowed to go home. Before he could say anything to the mob forming around him, a seventh year came running up screaming about the headmaster's body at the bottom of the tower.
Thankfully, Minerva McGonagall and the other teachers stepped up and took charge. They got the children into their common rooms with the parents that had shown up to watch the third task locked in with them to keep the children calm. All the remaining adults marched into the Great Hall, where Severus was placed in a chair and questioned thoroughly while Madam Pomfrey did what she could for his leg.
Severus launched into his stories -able to lie under Veritaserum due to a combination of a slight immunity and being a Master Occlumens. This is what he told them: He and Dumbledore saw Karkaroff fleeing and went after him. They ended up on the Astronomy Tower. A magical trap had been set up before time, and both he and the headmaster were incapacitated. Karkaroff killed the headmaster, but let him live because he believed Severus was still true to the Dark Lord.
Going along with him in hopes of gaining information for the Light Side, Severus went with him to the graveyard where the Dark Lord had risen again by the use of some unknown potion and ritual. By the time he got there, Diggory was already dead and Harry Potter was dueling the Dark Lord. Their wands connected - since they were brother wands - and there was a huge explosion. When he could see again, the Dark Lord and Harry were gone. The Death Eaters fled while Severus went back to Diggory and used the Cup to bring them back to Hogwarts.
(Severus had decided not to mention the Dark Lord had been defeated again. It would make Harry into a hero, and the boy would be uncomfortable with that. It also would make the population rabid to find him, and Harry would hate that. Besides, there were Death Eaters on the loose. It wouldn't hurt for the Wizarding World to be on alert.)
Of course, there was a lot of suspicion about his story. Fudge and the Diggorys especially didn't believe him and wanted him arrested immediately for the death of Albus Dumbledore, Cedric Diggory, and the kidnapping of Harry Potter. Severus began formulating escape plans, when to his surprise, Minerva stood up for him. She made everyone calm down and reminded them that Severus was on the Light side. The Minister wasn't happy with this, but agreed to wait until things at Hogwarts calmed down a bit before doing anything rash.
It was dawn by this point and everyone from outside Hogwarts left, returning to their homes, taking their children with them. Minerva made all the teachers search the castle for clues as to who had put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire and made the Triwizard Cup a portkey. Headmistress Maxime and the Durmstrang students were surprisingly helpful.
By sunset, the real Mad-Eye Moody was found, it was discovered Viktor Krum was under the Imperius Curse, and Hagrid even uncovered Crouch Sr.'s body in his pumpkin patch (Fang had dug it up). Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle were being drawn together, and Severus began to believe he might not have to go into hiding after all.
Minerva revealed everything they had discovered to the students in the Great Hall that night. She implored them to put aside any childhood rivalries and feuds they still harbored to instead band together to fight the re-born Dark Lord. The next day the children were all sent home. Neville sought him out before hand, and Severus promised him that they would keep in touch (he had already reassured both him and Draco that Harry was not missing and was safe at the house).
The Wizarding World exploded with gossip and arguments. The Minister said that the rise of the Dark Lord was a lie, that it was a plot to cause panic and fear. He, in fact, tried to pin everything on Severus, but Minerva presented the evidence of Moody's imprisonment and Karkaroff's disappearance, as well as the disappearance of the man who pretended to be Moody. It was enough to keep Severus out of Azkaban, but he was still watched with deep suspicion and animosity.
It was two weeks before he could slip away and head home.
xXxXxXx
Severus stepped into his house. Immediately the weight of the problems he carried slid from his shoulders. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and allowing the muscles in his shoulders and neck to loosen. Taking off his outer robe, he called for Omi. The little elf took it solemnly, following as Severus made his way slowly upstairs. His leg still bothered him and gave him a small limp.
He went left, walked down the hall, and stopped at Harry's open door. Remus was sitting in a chair pulled up to the teen's bedside, reading a thick book on medi-wizardry. The mutt was in his human form and snoring softly in a cot pushed against the wall. The curtains on the windows were pulled half-closed, softening the harsh summer sun.
Still without speaking, he stepped into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. Lupin looked up at him, but didn't say anything. Severus appreciated that and just took in his charge. Harry's face was thin and relaxed with sleep. His hair was messy from being in bed so much, but he looked fairly healthy. Of course, then his eyes drifted down and took in the teen's exposed chest, which was covered with bandages. Some areas were even stained red with fresh blood. No doubt his legs were in the same condition.
"He's doing better," Lupin offered. "He's not in as much pain, and he's awake almost all day now. In fact, he should wake up from his nap any moment."
"How much is permanent?" He asked it so softly, he feared Lupin wouldn't hear him.
"Very little. Maybe none," the werewolf smiled. "Really, there was hardly any internal damage, and all the surface injuries are responding slowly to treatment."
Severus nodded. He couldn't say anything else as startling green eyes blinked open. They had changed. They were brighter, more vivid, and almost inhuman. Lupin rose without being asked and got the mutt up and out of the room with surprisingly little fuss. Severus waited until the door closed behind them before taking the seat the werewolf had abandoned. Harry watched him, his expression tense, but he managed a smile for his mentor.
"How are you?" Severus asked carefully.
Harry ducked his head, his long bangs hiding his unsettling eyes as his hands twisted in the blankets at his lap. "I'm doing better. I even walked around for a bit today."
"I'm pleased to hear it." He waited, wondering how Harry wanted this exchange to go.
"I've been stealing the Daily Prophet," he admitted in a soft, steady voice. "Remus and Sirius order it, and they read it down stairs, thinking I don't know. Remus worries the news will upset me and make me ill, so I get Omi to bring it to me when they leave me alone in the bath."
"It's understandable that you want to know what's going on," Severus allowed, keeping his face and voice neutral.
"I'm glad you think that because I want to know the truth about what happened that night." Harry lifted his head, staring at Severus with a silent demand for answers.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"Cedric activated the Cup. It took us to a dark graveyard. I hid because someone was coming." He looked away, toward the window. "I started to use my ring when…" He shrugged and looked back at his teacher. "I don't remember anything else, but…"
"But what, Harry?"
"When I try to remember that night, or when I think about it too hard, I get cold and scared, and I know I don't want to remember." Harry met his mentor's dark eyes. "But I have to know. I'm in danger, and I don't know what I'm up against."
Severus nodded and leaned back in the chair. He had expected this, and had already made his decision. "I will tell you what I know."
Harry listened, staring at his teacher as if nothing else in the world mattered. Severus started at the beginning, and Harry's hands clenched into tight fists as Severus described the duel with Dumbledore. He hissed furiously as Severus recounted how his leg was injured. Severus had been staring at the wall, lost in his recollections, but at the sound he tipped his head down and stared intensely at the teen.
"What?" Harry scowled, startled by the look and not understanding why he was getting it. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Draco Malfoy chose that moment to arrive on the scene," Severus said evenly. He watched Harry's eyes get wider, but there was very little reaction as he described the headmaster's death. Now it was his turn to scowl. "Well? Explain yourself."
"What is there to explain?" Harry shook his head. "You know why I did it. I couldn't remain defenseless against him."
"You should have come to me," he said, voice deep and his eyes dark.
"I did. You were doing your best, but it wasn't enough for my peace of mind. I'm not sorry I did it, Severus. He was going to kill you!" Harry closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. When he opened them again, there was finally the sadness to his eyes that Severus wanted to see. "I am sorry that Draco had to do it, though. I never expected him to be the one to trigger the poison."
Severus knew that was as much regret as he was going to get from the boy and let it go for now. To be honest, he understood Harry's position. The power Dumbledore had over him had been great, should the headmaster choose to use it. As he had chosen the night Harry was taken to the graveyard, refusing Harry the help he needed. Severus, himself, had been trying to kill the headmaster while they dueled. He couldn't exactly reprimand Harry for making the same choice.
"I want to know how you became such close friends with Draco." Severus eyed the teen. Harry offered an innocent smile, and he snorted. "But first, I will continue my story."
"Please do," Harry agreed.
Severus didn't look back at the wall. He needed to see Harry's expression as he detailed the condition Boy was in and the following actions of Demon. Harry stared at him, eyes wide. His mouth parted with surprise when he heard how Demon actually spoke. He was less surprised that he killed the Dark Lord. When it was over, he closed his eyes and Severus could only see pain on his face.
"Thank you for telling me the truth," Harry whispered.
"I will not lie to you," Severus promised. "I may, at times, withhold information, but I will never lie."
Harry nodded. "I understand that. I don't like it - I want you to be able to tell me everything all the time - but I understand."
"I will keep you informed as often as I can," Severus reached out and covered Harry's hand with his own. He was fiercely proud when Harry didn't flinch away. "I am telling you everything now."
"What happened after Demon went back In? And why did he do that? Why not stay Out on a rampage?" Harry questioned, tilting his head curiously.
"I wondered that myself." Severus hooked his hair behind his ear and leaned back, crossing his legs thoughtfully. "I spoke to Salazar and we conjecture that because Demon was born from Voldemort, he felt the Dark Lord's death. The shock of it rendered him unconscious, so to speak."
"And why was he talking? He wasn't that coherent the last time I checked," Harry fretted, biting his lower lip.
"Demon's mind grows and becomes more complex the more he is fed. For a long time, you fed him all your hate and rage from the treatment you received from the Dursleys, and from the aggravation you felt your first years at Hogwarts, not to mention the rage Lockhart inspired by assaulting you. Salazar speculates the Dark Lord also fed Demon. The alter stood between you, so to speak, connecting you. As the Dark Lord got stronger and closer to a body, the more he unknowingly fed Demon, making the alter stronger and more aware."
"So now Demon is capable of thought."
Harry shivered as the implications of that trickled into his thoughts. He liked the idea of being able to protect himself, should it come to the worst case scenario. Demon had saved him a couple times, after all. But he hated feeling like he couldn't control himself. Unlike with Boy, Demon was a serious threat to everyone around him. Demon wouldn't hesitate to hurt any of the people he cared about. Even though Demon could think now, he still wouldn't discriminate when he was allowed to cause devastation. He was still only capable of feeling hate, rage, and a cold pleasure at destroying things.
"We will find a way to guard against him," Severus promised. He knew exactly what Harry feared. In all honesty, he feared it as well. "We do have the Animagus trigger on him. But we will find a way to better secure his door."
"Thanks," Harry smiled and forced his shoulders to relax. Tensing up like that pulled on his injures and it hurt like the blazes. "So… You were going to tell me what happened after Voldemort was dusted?"
"Hmmm." Severus sneered at the teen's wording and Harry laughed. "Fine," the man relented, pleased beyond measure that Harry could still laugh. They talked for a long time. Only stopping when Remus and Sirius came up to eat dinner with them. Severus watched Harry eat and talk with the others, and he felt himself uncoil a bit.
He had feared Harry's mind would be more damaged from everything that happened - feared Boy or Demon would bleed through his dominate personality - and was greatly relieved to find it was not so. Harry was still only Shadow. His mind was still and intact. This had effected him, yes. You could the physical evidence of this in his eyes, which were changed from channeling so much Dark magic, but otherwise he had come from the horrific experienced relatively whole. For the past two weeks he had been so afraid of what he'd find when he came back home, and now he felt fierce relief he hadn't lost the child he had come to love. One thing was certain, he was more determined than ever to preserve Harry's sanity.
The End
-x-x-x-
A/N: Okay…. I sweated and sweated over this, so I'm expecting reviews! (grins)
I know I left it kinda open, but that's because I'm planning on making a sequel. Don't expect it any time soon. Maybe I'll post the first chapter in a month or so, but I haven't really thought about a new story line yet or anything. Plus, I do have Don't Wake the Dragon. I want to get some chapters written for that story, as well.
I hoped you liked Broken Mind Fractured Soul. I worked really hard on it, and I really love the story. Please let me know what you think of it as a whole! Should there be an Epilogue before the sequel? If so, what kind of things would you want mentioned or explained?
Thanks for reading and sticking with me for so long. Bye! --- Sensibly Tainted