Chapter 5: Hope's Core.
AN: Well, well, well, here we are again, to those who reviewed THANK YOU! In this chapter we'll see – the aftermath of Harry's magical outburt…
P.S I don't know who came up with the idea of Dan and Emma Granger first but I like it so I'll stick to that.
Hermione rushed to the side of the raven haired boy on the floor, fearing the worst.
The great light had passed but in leaving had left its caster apparently comatose.
The Grangers seeing their daughter fall her knees at the boy's side suddenly felt the rush of realization as the past weeks of horror came flooding back to them.
They knew him of course, from brief meetings at Kingscross and in Diagon alley.
This was Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding and probably muggle world, an orphan treated dismally by bigoted relatives and cursed with a destiny that seemed to mandate that if there were trouble, he would be in the middle of it.
Not a life many would envy him for perhaps but right now the Grangers were too deeply grateful that on this particular night the boy had come to their aid to consider the hardships placed on the shoulders of one so young.
Hermione was crying, holding his had and whispering to him, begging him to wake up.
Moody had finally collected himself enough to hear her.
Standing up purposefully to stride over to the fallen Gryffindor he promptly keeled over in shock.
He could feel his wooden foot!
Looking down in shock he realized that his wooden leg was nowhere to be seen, but more importantly a perfectly healthy living leg was now attached to his body!
Impossible! His leg had been utterly destroyed by a deatheaters' curse, the scarred stump refusing all attempts at creating enchanted prosthetics as was even now being worn by the traitor Pettigrew.
Potter had done… something… beyond the power of even Dumbledore.
Shaking his head in wonder the ex-auror willed his electric blue eye to spin.
That still worked it seemed, yet somehow the eye felt more a part of him than he'd remembered.
Shrugging he rose to his feet and made his way over to Harry.
The boy was still out cold, and with Hermione now waving his own still smoldering wand over him while incanting Enervate over and over to no effect it seemed clear that the phoenix-feather core had been burnt to nothing.
'Stop it girl!' Moody snapped more from impatience than irritation.
'That wand's cast its last spell, the core's gone.'
Her eyes widened in shock.
Harry had sacrificed his wand for her and her parents?
The wand had been his only true defense against Voldemort!
Linked by the twin cores of Fawkes' feathers, it had been impossible for the Dark Lord to engage Harry in a to-the-death duel but without that protection…
'Hermione,' came her fathers voice,
'lets take the boy upstairs please. We can put him in your room for now, those… people were in the guest room and I doubt he'd want to sleep on the same sheets as them.'
Numbly the Girl obeyed helping her father half drag half carry Harry up the stairs, leaving moody in a speculative mood.
The order needed to be called.
If half of what he had seen here today was as it seemed, then they had a new leader and a damned powerful one at that.
With a snort he reflected on his choice of words.
Damned. Aye that poor boy was damned true enough.
Destiny, fate fortune, all of them seemed to conspire to constantly place Harry right on the front lines in that eternal war between light and darkness.
He would need help, for Merlin help them all if he should fall into shadow.
He would need Granger, that much was obvious.
If the mere thought of her being distressed at what had been done to her parents could evoke this kind of magic from the boy…
Smiling evily Moody allowed himself to imagine what would happen to Voldemort if he should even think of threatening Granger in front of Harry.
Placing some precautionary wards about the house Moody finished by spinning on his heel and disappearing with the crack of apparition.
Minerva needed to be told.
The lights' Hope had returned..