FFOmega
Part I: Bitter-Sweet Dreams

Chapter 1

Several Months Before…

Footsteps

They had become his alarm clock all too quickly.

Well, in all actuality, the mammoth being they belonged to made it so that they were less footsteps and more reminiscent of a stampede of elephants running above him.

"Damn you Dudley. Your fat ass needs some kind of counseling or something. No, forget counseling, you need weight management. No, not even that. More a gastric bypass and emergency liposuction." Harry muttered to himself as he sat up, wiping the plaster off of his exposed upper body.

It was damn hilarious to him how something that big had this immense need to get even bigger. And how he was willing to actually run to get more food…Harry laughed every time he thought of his humongously rotund cousin.

But as he rose, or attempted to rise from the makeshift bed he lay in, he bumped his head on the overhanging board. It was a sad fact to think that the Order's warning had done little but put the Dursleys on constant watch of the raven-haired boy. Meaning, a constant home within the all too small cupboard under the stairs. And this was literally driving Harry insane. He wanted out. Immediately. And today was the planned day for that.

In his last letter to the order, he was able to sneak a note on the bottom of the page that told them on their return letter to send him a portkey. A portkey just to the outside of the door of the cupboard. He made it sound like he just wanted to be able to get somewhere fast and get back.

It had come with the letter that night, and had given instructions on the word to speak to activate the small game piece, a green house-shaped plastic piece, which Harry was sure he had seen somewhere before.

And as he clutched it in his hands and muttered the odd series of words, "As the Darkness falls…" something very weird happened.

With the feeling of a pull in his navel, there was a feeling of another pull, in a different direction, much more powerful, and the world spun out of existence.

And as he peeked open his eyes as everything settled down from its rapid rotation, he realized two things.

One, it was truly a blessing that he had fallen asleep the night before with his glasses firmly attached to his face. And Two, wherever he was,

It sure wasn't the outside of the cupboard

That fact was made clear by the half-dozen or so black cloaked figures in masks surrounding him, peering down.

"Oh shit…"

Harry was lifted off of the ground and carried in some direction. He was able to make out the smoke from a fire rising above the trees that were surrounding his current location, and he would know those masks from anywhere.

So he knew one thing clearly,

Wherever he was, was a place he didn't need to be. And a place he had a good chance of not coming back from.

But Harry thought about it. He had made it that far…he refused to die like he was. Groggy, sleep in his eyes, clad in only pajama pants, and completely defenseless.

So with that thought in his mind, refusing to die without putting up some fight, Harry kicked and screamed, flailing until he was dropped. He had an idea and began his best impersonation of a seizing person, shaking and freaking out and the Death Eaters stood there, in confusion. Finally he laid there, allowing his body to rest and play possum, as he waited for the Death Eaters to make some move.

They stood there watching him and finally one of the Death Eaters leaned down to check on him. And with the glimpse of pale, silvery-blonde hair peaking out from the hood, Harry acted.

He reached up and grabbed the wand that said Death Eater had been holding, cracking the man he figured was Lucius Malfoy over the head with it, splintering it, the core, which was apparently liquid, began to leak out, its silvery color reflecting in the light,

Jumping up, Harry started to run, not in any particular direction, but away from the people around him.

Spells launched after him, but the trees made good cover, and Harry was running for all he had. The cuts forming on the bottoms of his feet were not an obstacle as he kept forcing himself on, the wand still in his hand as he refused to drop it in fear that it might be repairable.

But as he ran, he missed something. With his tightening grip on the shattered wood, cuts were being forced into his hand, and the silvery liquid was leaking in as his blood began to leak out.

But even had he noticed this, he wouldn't have even been able to conceive the effects that that fact would have on him.

Seriously, who thinks to use Unicorn's blood as a wand core? Really?

His feet carried him faster and faster, the trees blurring around him as he moved more quickly than even he himself knew.

But this was brought to a screeching halt as a solid force hit the middle of his back, and he was launched off of his feet, through the air and slammed into a tree by the utter force of the power.

And as he sank to the ground, he was aware of only one thing. The Pain. The familiar pain that could only come from one thing,

Cruciatus

And he laid there, blood seeping from his temple and his hand, his back arched off of the ground, the splinters of the wand he held actually piercing through certain places in his hand as he clenched his fists through the pain.

A Pain that seemed to not be easing any time soon.

And even as everything fell apart around him through the pain, he saw something through his lopsided glasses, the frame on the right side broken when he hit the tree.

There was a form over him, looking down in a complete look of awkwardness. He stood out clearly in Harry's mind.

How often did you see someone clad in completely black, from shoes to shirt to pants, everything, with the most pure white hair? And even more odd than the mid-back length, sheet white hair, where his eyes.

Pure black. No whites, and no color of any kind. They were deep endless pools of black. Darker than even the forest or his clothing. Darker than any night could be. Any thing should be.

And the man bent down and pulled Harry up, forcing him to stand. He lifted the smaller boy's hair near his temple, checking the cut briefly. It was impossible to tell exactly where he was looking, having no clear pupil at all, but Harry could make out the look on his face. He did not look very happy.

Turning, he surveyed the area it seemed, and his eyes narrowed as the sound of footfall and the flashes of spells. He propped Harry up against the tree he had hit, and then set down the backpack Harry just realized he was carrying.

Turning towards the Death Eaters, who were just breaking out of the trees, he began to move.

One of the Death Eaters had ignited their wand in a Lumos spell, which allowed Harry to see what would transpire in only a few second.

With his white hair trailing him almost like a cape, Black Eyes as Harry thought of him, rushed the 5 or so Death Eaters. He jumped and laid a strong jump-kick on the lead Death Eater. And what Harry saw made him wish he knew a bit more about physics.

Because what he saw shouldn't have been possible.

The kick actually sent the large man back and through a tree or two. While still in the air from the kick, Black Eyes spun and laid a spin-kick to the side of another Death Eater's head, spinning the cloaked form off of his feet.

Finally landing on the ground, Black Eyes spun and did a leg-sweep on the one holding the lit wand, and as the wand fell, Harry got a weird effect. As the wand fell, the Death Eater fell parallel to it. And suddenly he saw a flash of white hair and Black Eyes was up again, landing a crushing punch into the falling Death Eater's stomach, speeding up his fall so that the wand hit the ground after him.

And when it did, Harry saw the man's face, the mask falling just above his head. There laid someone Harry had seen many a times. There laid Severus Snape, blood leaking from his mouth and nose, and his eyes closed. The wand showed faint breathing, but not a lot.

Harry was watching this, and therefore missed the dispatching of the other Death Eaters. But what he did see was the clear power that his would-be savior held, and should the man feel the need to rid himself of Harry, he easily could.

And this literally scared the hell out of Harry.

And he contemplated what to do. He could try and run, but the pain was still gripping him in the after-current of the curse, and it was beginning to get much colder. And he was sure that running would do no good, he had seen how quickly the one he called Black Eyes could move.

Suddenly there was the sound of footfall again, and the figure before Harry was looking around some more, his white hair getting in his face every so often. But he smiled as he finally looked back to Harry, ruffled his hair a bit and then turned and lifted his backpack.

As Harry saw this, he turned as he heard a group of people break through the trees behind him. And as he looked, he was able to make out the reflective, bald head of Kingsley Shacklebot, the frighteningly electric pink shade of Nymphadora Tonks' hair, and the incredibly unique silhouette of "Mad Eye" Moody.

And as Harry realized the Order was there, he glanced around, looking for Black Eyes, but saw no sight of him.

And slowly consciousness left Harry and he slumped down, finally free of the burden for the time, lost in the world of the unconscious.

"Oh Harry…what have you gotten yourself into?" Tonks muttered as her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at him, and then leaned down, pulling him up to a standing position with Shacklebot's help, and then releasing him into the larger man's hands as the tall bald man leaned down and scooped Harry up in his arms.

Harry awoke in a familiar place. The Hospital Wing. And term hadn't even started yet.

"Some record you got here Potter." He muttered to himself before trying to push himself up to a sitting position.

Key word: trying.

The second his weight was put on his right arm, his vision went black. There was actually so much pain ripping through his body that everything went numb. All sense died, and his mind went completely blank.

And the world…it was disappearing. Slowly spinning out of existence, as if a huge drain was opened and everything was being sucked into it.

And finally, all that was left in his dark little makeshift world…was Harry.

And it was very awkward, Very odd indeed as, he was completely conscious. Completely aware and awake, and completely alone.

And then he heard it. In truth, a soft sound, with the absence of all other outside noise, they were all the clarity and volume of gunshots.

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

Footsteps.

Harry whirled around in the world of darkness around him, and saw nothing. It was all black. Very little even told him he was moving outside of the sensation of actual physical pain as he moved. He couldn't even see what he was seated on, he was just seated.

And as he looked behind him, he realized the sound was more centralized in front of him. And as he thought about this, they stopped.

Turning around, he looked forward to see a ghostly form. Impossible to see exactly who or what it was, but in truth it appeared to be a Dementor. Only, the opposite. Ghostly white, near transparent, and seemingly floating above the ground. Which didn't explain the footsteps.

And as the figure stopped before Harry, an arm stretched from the long white cloak and pulled the hood off its head.

And a face oddly too familiar but completely foreign came into view. She stood there, a knowing smile on her face.

"Yes, I do get that all the time young Potter. All the time. But you see, that is not without reason, nor without a time and a place. And this is neither the time, nor the place. For you see, time is not something that either of us have an abundance of.

"You see, what has occurred in the last few hours has set into play an event, or more, a series of events that could, undeniably knock the very world into such a spin that all things known will become unknown in a matter of seconds. All things done undone to the point that, that which was previously finished will become bothersome loose ends to all still alive, and even a few dead. Skeletons locked away in closets will break out, new life and new resolve to become known.

"And all this, oddly, set into play due to a simple little substance called Unicorn's Blood."

Harry eyed her warily as she spoke. He had heard some damning predictions, actually they were a regular occurrence in his daily life. However, it was not the words she spoke to him that made him eye her. It was the conviction behind them. It was not a Trelawney prediction, where there was a level of need, an underlying need to prove herself that made certain things flow from her mouth.

What the woman before him spoke…it was from true belief. From true knowledge. From a genuine need, no, a genuine care. But for what, was what Harry was trying to figure out.

"I know you have a lot of questions, and they will all be answered, I assure you. But for now, I will tell you this, and you must try and comprehend as much as possible. And the parts you don't get will come to you as time passes.

"You see, there is a great legend surrounding Unicorn's Blood. A great story concerning what it is used for and what it does. In truth, Unicorn's Blood is much like a beefed up version of muggle stimulants. Like an amphetamine. But you see, the results are very odd indeed. Its like a quick-aging drug. It can keep you alive for a given time, strengthening one's body to survive a usually fatal ailment at the cost of aging their bodies unnaturally to the point that their lives can end more than 50 years prematurely.

"However, in magical people, there is an added effect. You see, because the body's energy is made to rise due to ingesting of the blood, all abilities increase exponentially as well. In simplest terms, this basically means that all abilities skyrocket, even higher than physically possible normally. Meaning…"

She left this open, as if waiting for Harry to answer her. He ran it through his mind, and then spoke in an unsure, questioning tone, his answer. "Magical ability increases?"

She smiled and nodded, and then continued. "Magical abilities skyrocket as well. So much in fact that, should a squib ingest the Blood, it would be fully possible for them to cast several Avada Kedavra curses with relative ease.

"Now, why might this be an odd fact for you?"

Harry sat there, looking completely confused. He wondered first about the talk of the Unicorn's Blood, and why, in fact, it did have anything to do with him. She seemed to catch this and smiled, nodding.

"Do you know what was in the Malfoy's wand that you broke?" Harry shook his head. But as he did, a realization hit him as he realized the reason for the Unicorn's Blood talk. "Yes…By Jove I think he's got it!" She said, a smile on her face.

"Now the key here, is making this fact clear to you, even as some of the things you will learn will make you question everyone around you."

Not even waiting for Harry's affirmation in his willingness to hear the things she intended to say, she began. "You see, many things were set into place, long before your birth. All things centering around you. However, this had a lot to do with you parents. Not how many times they denied or fought Voldemort, no, this was more around who your parents were. You see, it was determined that, with the level of abilities, active and dormant that your parents had, no matter what combination of their genes you got, you would have a lot of fairly odd, rare and powerful abilities. Your father coming from a line of Aurors and Unspeakables, thereby a natural ability to defend oneself magically was truly in you blood.

"Now your mother… she was a special case. It has yet to be made a known fact to the wizarding public, due mainly to scared old-timers, but, the combination of "wizarding" and "muggle" blood create a level of magical power higher than either side alone. Because of this, your magical level would be higher than it normally should have been, making it so that, at the time of your birth, your projected magical ability would match that of Albus Dumbledore's by the time you reached the age of about 45.

"However, the events of that night in October actually did something very odd. Many dormant abilities you had were awoken thanks to Riddle and his pitiful attempt at murder. And more than just awakening abilities, as you know, you two were connected. However, his magic needed somewhere to go, as magic is energy, and that can not be destroyed. So thus…It went into you. As did abilities he had, such as parseltongue.

"Now this is a lot of lecturing, but here is the real meat of the story. Since Voldemort's road to returning, people around you began to feel the need to sever any possible connections between you and Riddle. In ways that, should you have known about them, you would have certainly objected to. Even reaching lengths as far as putting up mental barriers in your mind, blocking abilities and powers under the guise of Occulmency training."

She ignored Harry's shocked face, and continued. "However, with the increase in magical abilities, the barriers have crumbled, and the extra magic has flooded to these abilities, awakening them with the new magic you now have, almost powering them, like electricity to previously unpowered appliances to put it metaphorically."

Harry sat there, staring at her. "And the point of you telling me all of this is?" He asked, staring at her as if she was stupid. She had lectured him on the finer details of his life, and told him information he didn't know. But he didn't see why this mattered, and how it was effecting the world. "What does this have to do with saving the world?"

"You can not save the world until you save yourself. And you can not save yourself until you know yourself. I am here to ensure that you make it as far as possible on your own before The Call must be made. I am here to make sure you can understand everything that is about to happen."

"And what, might I ask, is going to happen."

"One of two tings, my dear boy. Either you will save the world using this new power that this mishap has awakened in you, you will stop Riddle…" and she was silent for a moment.

"Or…"

"Or, or, sadly, my dear sweet Harry, the world will end."

"And how do you know this?" Harry observed her. "And why do you care?"

"I care, my sweet child, because I have a good record. A long standing track record of being right. Actually, I have been so right in my predictions that it has come to be that, all I say is considered fact. Period. And I do not want something this serious to be my first slip up, at the worst possible time."

"So this is all about some record you want to keep? I mean, why the hell should I care if you are right or wrong? I don't even know who you are."

"Me. I have many names. Many, many names. Every culture gives a name to me. but you, my dear boy, may know me by one of my oldest names.

Fate."

"Fate." Harry stated, completely lost.

"Yes, Fate. But I have come upon a name from another culture that I like much more that that crude word western civilization has given me. You, my good boy, can call me Karma."

"And I'd like it if you called me Harry, not some stupid 'my dear boy' or something. You aren't my mother."

"You are right there, de…Harry. However, I feel the need to show a great deal of love towards you. I must say, I have been somewhat of a…bitch to you so far, wouldn't you say?"

Harry sat there, staring at her. He was…lost. Completely swimming in information, confusion and a mix of lack of understanding and complete enlightenment. She seemed to see this and smiled.

"Here, let me make this completely simple for you. From here on, life will be a lot different for you. As time passes, your magical development is going to be sped up fast. Super fast. So fast that, everything you learn in school will grow obsolete for you within about a few weeks of you learning it, so you are going to have to learn to update it for your own means. As this happens, you are going to have a lot on you. You will have to basically live in the school library. Learn all you can from everyone you can, learn everything at the school and become as powerful as possible on your own. And when there is nothing else for you there, then it will be the time for The Call.

"The Call, I will explain to you as the time draws closer. A simple state of meditation can put us in contact, but as you learn this, it will be strictly through your dreams or your unconscious states.

"But once The Call is put out, then you will have a short while before the ones that shall be, what I call your 'Guardians' will arrive. They will teach you the true power you hold, and help you get to Riddle. From there, the fate of the world rests with you. Your power…it is all inside of you. This is a lot to put on you, I know. But…I wouldn't place it anywhere else."

And she turned to him and smiled a beautiful smile before coming toward him and lightly caressing his cheek with her hand in a loving way before smoothing his hair behind his ear quickly and smiling again, this time a sort of borderline pitying but hopeful one, and then kissing him on the forehead, whispering a barely audible "I'm Sorry. I am so so Sorry" and then turning, pulling the hood up over her head again and walking away, fading into the darkness.

And then it hit. The world slammed into him, almost as if he was running with the world, pulled ahead of it, and was standing there when it caught up. Everything screeched back into existence, and as he opened his eyes, not even knowing when his position had changed from attempting to sit up to sitting up, his back against the headboard of the bed, with his arms to his sides.

And as he looked around, there was Professor Dumbledore directly at the foot of the bed, talking to Snape, who didn't look any better for ware. The man was shockingly pale from the neck down, even more so than on his face, as his shirt was missing, with gauzes wrapped around his ribs and he was favoring his right leg a great deal. He looked very pale, as people do when they have lost a lot of blood, and he did not look very pleased with something.

"It wasn't supposed to go that way. We didn't know who the hell he was, but he was fast. Demonically fast. He was, like, a man possessed. And I really don't get it. He came out of nowhere, and he protected Potter like a mother bear protects its cubs. And he physically assaulted us all. Beat the bloody hell out of us actually. And his legs…He kicked Goyle once and knocked him through 2 trees. Albus, through!

"And I am damned sure he was hit with at least 3 Cruciatus curses, aimed toward Potter, and he still fought like he was some kind of Hell-Spawn. Whoever he was sir, I was damned sure that it would be a very smart idea to track him down and approach him for the Order. He could be the militant front man of the group, the person that actually gets something done. You know I may have hated him with every fiber of my being, Black got things done with the group. We need someone like that!"

Dumbledore was nodding, regarding Severus with a complete look of…nothing. There wasn't any particular expression on the old man's usually expressive and cheerful face.

Harry saw this before adjusting himself just so. Just enough to purposefully draw attention to himself. Both men turned and looked at him. He looked at them as well, and then cocked his head to the side at the sight of Snape and smirked. But he put his snide remark on the backburner before looking to his Headmaster.

"So, should I take recent events as a description that things with Voldemort have not particularly improved since the end of the term?"

Dumbledore looked at him with a completely new expression in his eyes. It was not comedic recognition or even a twinkle. It was a look of confusion. A look of lack of understanding.

"Mr. Potter…you seem to be in good spirits after an ordeal such as this. I feel we have much to discuss."

"Sir, with all due respect, I do not. I feel that it would be a nice idea for me to be released and returned to Number 4. That is, of course, after a visit to the library. With your permission Sir, I would like to check out several books for some Summer studying, seeing as we have no summer assignments, and there seems to be great and trying times ahead of us all, especially me."

Dumbledore stood there, as did Snape. The older man nodded and Harry nodded back, standing up and walking from the Hospital wing, his bare feet making little pattering sounds on the linoleum floor as he left.

Dumbledore and Snape turned to each other, in complete shock and/or confusion. "Severus, is it just me, or does it seem that, within a matter of days, Mr. Potter has matured by several decades?"

"I do believe that that is a truthful observation, Sir."

"I fear what we have done Severus. I fear that this mere boy has been so forced to become a man, that he himself may have forgotten the ability to be young. I fear that we have relieved him of his innocence before he even knew he possessed it."

"But as they say Albus, Innocence is the most dangerous thing ever conceived."

"Yes Severus, it may be, or may have been. But a child stripped of their innocence is like unleashing a spiteful demon on a room full of people with a loaded pistol in hand."