Interlude: Choice between Life and Death

"Ok, Tom," Harry said turning to the glaring Dark Lord, "Let's finish this."

Voldemort approached his longtime rival, "Let's."

The two continued to stare each other down when finally Voldemort cast a curse Harry's way. Harry, not really caring what it did, jumped to the side, using his enhanced speed to easily dodge the attack. He quickly returned with a spell of his own, but it was mostly for a distraction.

"You never liked Muggle fighting styles did you, Tom?" Harry asked as he quickly got in Voldemort's s defenses and kneed him in the abdomen followed by a backhanded punch.

"You've learned a lot since we first met officially, Harry," Voldemort said, apparating a few yards away to put some distance between them.

"You're not going to win," Harry said before running toward him again, unfortunately Voldemort was ready this time.

Just as Harry stepped up to the Dark Lord, Voldemort brought his wand up and bellowed "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" the spell flew forward and hit Harry right in the chest.

"You … bastard …" Harry growled out, barely able to move even with the use of his telekinesis.

"Such language from a hero!" Voldemort laughed.

"I'm still going to beat you," Harry growled in his mind, "even if you stop me, my friends will finish what I started."

"You sound like your father!" Voldemort smiled evilly, "Such a strong sense of justice, such bad comedy."

Voldemort glanced around the area, "Where are your X-Men? Where are your friends? Where is your mentor Dumbledore? Where is your Hermione or her twisted copy?"

"You're all alone, Harry," Voldemort grinned venomously, "Alone in the rain with me ... and death."

"I'm never alone," Harry forced out.

"It has been fun, Harry Potter," Voldemort said, raising his wand and watching the X-Jet approach them from the corner of his eye.

"You have been a very worthy rival, and it may come at little relief, but you have my respect," Voldemort bowed slightly, and aimed the wand point blank at Harry's chest.

"Avada Kedavra."

The green beam hit Harry's chest and the light faded from his green eyes. He slowly stumbled backwards, his breath escaping his now limp jaw in a gasp before he hit the ground with a thud, splashing the puddle around him.

"WAKE UP, BOY!"

Harry's eyes snapped open to find himself in the cupboard under the stairs. He glanced toward the small door to see Uncle Vernon's purple face glaring hatefully at him. He reached in and grabbed Harry by the Hogwarts robe collar and drug him out into the Great Hall, which was filled with students. "Come along, Boy, you have a lot to answer for!"

Vernon pulled Harry down between middle of the Hall toward the professors' table, and shoved him in front of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

"Hello, Harry," Dumbledore smiled kindly, "I've a question for you, and you must answer truthfully and honestly, ok?"

"I'll … I'll do my best sir," Harry nodded.

"Very good, very good," Dumbledore grinned, "Ok Harry, I'll asked you this once and once only." He said, leaning forward. And in the blink of an eye, he was replaced by an eleven-year-old Hermione Granger, "Have you seen a toad?"

"THERE HE IS!" eleven-year-old Neville said, shoving Harry and Vernon out of the way. Harry turned to see the Brotherhood of Mutants member known as Toad look back at the boy in raw terror and took off, hopping away with Neville in hot pursuit. "COME BACK, TREVOR!"

Harry watched them go before turning back to see the Twins, Fred and George Weasley, in Dumbledore's chair. "You are in deep trouble, Mr. Potter," Fred said seriously.

"Indeed he is, Fred," George agreed.

"You've went to a brand new rebuilt school for almost an entire fall term, and what mischief did you do?" Fred asked.

"The answer is none."

"What is it good for?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" The twins called in unison, pointing at Harry angrily.

Suddenly, Harry was standing beside a tree near the lake just outside Hogwarts Castle.

"I'm late! I'm late! I'm late, late, late!" Hermione's voice called from behind Harry, and he turned to find a seventeen-year-old Hermione in a white bikini, with a fluffy cottontail, and long, floppy, white ears on top of her head.

"Hermione?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Can't talk now, Harry, I'm late!" Hermione called and dashed past him, and on instinct Harry ran after her.

He ran after her, and watched as she dove into a large hole in the ground. Harry quickly followed her into the darkness.

"Hello, Harry," Ron said from behind him. Harry turned, having to shield his eyes from the blinding light. His eyes adjusted and Harry found himself in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was seated before him, but was dressed as Harry had never seen him before. He was wearing a black dress shirt, purple pants and a white tie under black crocodile trench coat, his blue eyes were hidden under dark armless sunglasses attached to the bridge of his nose, and his red hair was slicked back tight.

"Ok, it's official," Harry said, slumping in a chair. "I've gone off the deep end. Am I really in a padded room and a straight jacket?"

"You're not insane, Harry," Ron said with a straight face, "You died. This is just your mind preparing itself for your reawakening."

"Insane it is then, yup," Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Your choice, of course, Harry," Ron said, leaning forward. "You can stay as you are now, or you can return and aid your friends in the battle against Voldemort and his forces."

"I don't understand …" Harry shook his head and his surroundings changed again.

"Why do you go on?" an eleven-year-old boy asked, stepping into a spotlight before Harry. He was dressed in dirty hand-me-down clothing two sizes too big and a pair of taped-up broken glasses. His shaggy, dirty, ink-black hair barely concealed a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

"Is it for love?" the young Harry asked, "Do you want someone to love you?"

The background flashed with memories of abuse by the Dursleys and then the love and care that he received at Hogwarts by Dumbledore and his friends, then on to Xavier's with Scott, Jean and the X-Men.

"Why do you go on?" Another stepped into a spotlight, this time a thirteen-year-old Harry. His hair neat, but still unkempt, his glasses repaired and dressed in nice Hogwarts Gryffindor class robes. "Is it honor? Bravery? Courage?" the thirteen year old Harry stated.

Images flashed of Harry doing heroic, selfless things: confronting Quirrel for the Sorcerer's Stone, rescuing Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, rescuing Sirius and Buckbeak, facing Voldemort after his resurrection, raiding the Department of Mysteries, risking his own life to stop Apocalypse.

"Why do you go on?" Another asked, this time it was a seventeen-year-old Harry wearing his Mage X-Man uniform. "Is it for the sake of teamwork? Is it to protect those you care for?"

Harry then saw images of his relationship with Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and the X-Men.

"Why do you go on?" the three Harry's asked him in unison.

Harry stared at his three Doppelgangers, unsure of how to respond.

"Why do I go on?" Harry asked, his head snapping up in realization. The three Harry's smiled and slowly went transparent. "I go on for all these reasons; I go on for Dumbledore, Scott, Jean, the X-Men, New Hogwarts, Ron, and Hermione, I go on for them. They depend on me, as much as I depend on them!" he said as all four Harry's merged into one.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he found himself lying on the cold floor of a cave.

"Welcome back," a familiar voice spoke from his left. "I was afraid even with our combined power you wouldn't come back to us …"

"You're alive …" Harry gawked at the woman.

She nodded, her red hair bouncing with the movement, "Thanks mostly to your mother. She's the reason you're back too. It's been three weeks, sweetheart, even I was beginning to have my doubts."

"Three weeks? Hermione …" Harry stared into space for a moment before turning back to the woman with a smile. "I'm late enough. It's time to go home."

To Be Continued …