Metamorphosis
Chapter 6: Mind-Trap Illusion
Harry woke several times during the night with a sharp pain coming from his scar. He wasn't sure what it was but it made it nearly impossible to sleep. Sighing heavily, he forced himself out of bed around five a.m. As he gazed at the bed that Ron slept in, he noticed the red-head wasn't there. Thinking that Ron went to go get a drink or something, Harry trudged out of the room and down the stairs toward the kitchen. The house was incredibly silent for having so many occupants, even though they were all asleep.
The stairs didn't even make their usual creak. And what was weird was that for having such a large feast, he was suddenly starving again. The kitchen was empty when he entered it so he just filled a glass of water and stood there. As he drank he looked around, noticing that the walls looked extremely dull. He knew they needed to be repainted, but he had never noticed the color was off before. It was possible that he had been too exhausted the night before and had just not really spent time thinking about anything. He must've been overly tired since it felt like it had been longer than a few hours since he went to bed; he felt like it had been a day or so and he wasn't sure why.
Putting the glass in the sink, he turned around to head back and jumped as he saw Ron standing before him.
"Harry, what are you doing down here?" he asked casually.
He shrugged. "Just getting a glass of water. I can't sleep…It feels like the morning will never come," he answered.
"That's ridiculous," Ron snorted. "Come on, let's go to bed."
Harry followed his friend toward the stairs then stopped. "Uh, Ron. I really can't get to sleep so I think I'm going to step outside for a bit."
"ARE YOU CRAZY!" Ron shouted, causing Harry to jerk from being startled.
Harry looked around, knowing he must've woken somebody up. "What's the matter, Ron? And stop shouting!" Harry whispered.
"You can't go outside! You have to stay inside! It's too dangerous" Ron exclaimed, coming toward him.
"I know, but it's not like I'm going far," Harry said. "Just a walk around."
"A walk around! Do you realize what you could do just by walking around? You could lead some Death Eaters our way, or worse, Voldemort!" he shouted.
Harry blinked, wondering when Ron had gotten the courage to say his name. "Really, Ron, you're exaggerating."
"You could put all of us in danger, Harry! Do you really want that!" he snapped suddenly.
The left part of Ron's face seemed somewhat transparent for just a split second. It was almost like the same flickering with Aberforth. Perhaps it hadn't been his imagination. Now Harry was feeling fear rise in his chest—something was definitely off. Ron lashed out and gripped his shoulder roughly.
"Ouch, Ron, cut that out!" Harry glared, pushing his hand away.
"What's going on here?"
Harry turned to see Mrs. Weasley with her arms crossed and staring at them grimly.
"Harry wants to go outside, mum!" Ron exclaimed desperately.
All of a sudden, Mrs. Weasley's gaze landed on him and hardened. Harry felt his stomach flip in response and she pointed a finger at him. "Harry James Potter you will do no such thing!" she snapped. "It's too dangerous. One foot outside could ruin everything! You heard what Dumbledore said. He told you to remain inside this house because Voldemort would be able to sense you."
"Yeah, but—"
"But nothing! You will march right back upstairs and go to bed!" she exclaimed, pointing toward the stairs.
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry pleaded. "What if someone comes with me? Like Mr. Weasley?"
"Absolutely not! That won't change the fact that you're going outside."
Harry gapped at her then at Ron. Both of them were being unreasonable. Just yesterday they seemed thrilled to see him and now they were acting as though he was about to commit a crime. He knew Voldemort wouldn't be able to track them down that fast. And he had to get out; he already felt like he had been cooped inside there for days.
"Look, let me talk to Dumbledore!" Harry demanded.
"What's the matter?"
Harry whirled his head to the left to see Mr. Weasley stepping forward giving him the same expression Mrs. Weasley gave him moments ago.
"Mr. Weasley, I just want to step out for a couple minutes for some fresh air," Harry pleaded with him.
"No! It's way too dangerous, Harry! You could get killed!"
"Killed? I just want some fresh air and you can come with me!" he retorted in frustration.
Mr. Weasley stepped forward and shook his head. "Harry, please, stop looking for trouble. Voldemort is out there growing stronger and—"
"And you know he can't possibly track us by stepping outside," Harry retorted angrily. "If that were true he would've attacked me here long ago."
"Dumbledore's orders are to remain inside," Mr. Weasley said sternly.
"But…for how long? I already feel claustrophobic!" Harry began raising his voice, looking at all three of them in disbelief. Yesterday everything seemed perfect and back to normal and now they were all pointing fingers at him as if he were some criminal trying to escape.
"As long as it takes to keep you safe. Don't you see we're protecting you? Out there it's a dangerous death-hole," Mrs. Weasley spoke up as Ron nodded beside her.
Feeling his anger build, Harry clenched his fists. "It's not like I'm going to go looking for Voldemort! And besides, I can't just sit around here doing nothing while Voldemort is killing people out there and probably planning something disastrous."
"What's going on?"
Hermione appeared at the bottom of the stairs with Ginny and the two of them looked just as concerned and grim as the others.
"Harry's shouting because he wants to go outside and endanger us all," Ron spat angrily.
"That's not it!" Harry quipped with frustration, glaring at him. "You know I wouldn't put you guys in danger."
"Then come upstairs and go back to bed!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.
Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out because his scar suddenly began searing with pain. He winced and took a wobbly step backward. His scar hadn't been aching before or even when he was in the muggle world. Something was wrong; there was something that he felt deep down was out of place, but he couldn't think with all of them staring at him.
"Harry, come upstairs," Mr. Weasley said more calmly, reaching out toward him. "You just need some rest."
"I can't sleep!" Harry argued.
"Then read a book," Hermione suggested.
Glaring, Harry shook his head, feeling so frustrated and angry at this point. Why wouldn't they let him step outside? It wasn't that dangerous.
"How about opening a window?" he asked, glancing at them.
"No," Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "It's too dangerous."
Harry's eyes narrowed. Something was definitely not right. Opening a window shouldn't have been a problem at all. In fact, Mrs. Weasley was acting severely paranoid, as was Mr. Weasley, who was usually the more lenient one. All of a sudden, Harry's eyes took them all in.
"Wait…why are you all still wearing your clothes?" he asked aloud.
"What?" Ron sputtered. "Harry, stop changing the subject. Come on!"
Harry took a couple steps back, glancing at the door. His scar was now throbbing painfully and he knew what that meant. The feeling was the same when he was around strong dark magic. That meant that something was wrong in that house. He didn't know what or why, but he suddenly felt like he had to get out of there.
"How about we all go get some nice breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley forced a smile as all the others nodded.
"At five in the morning?" Harry exclaimed.
"Harry, that's enough! You're going upstairs now," Mr. Weasley said, grabbing his arm tightly.
Whipping around, Harry dodged out of the grasp and pointed his wand at the door. "Alahomora!" he shouted.
"HARRY DON'T!" Mrs. Weasley screamed as they all began to approach him.
The door swung open suddenly and a gust of wind blew him off his feet. A rough hand grabbed him along with some more and soon Harry was struggling against them all.
"Let me go!" Harry shouted, trying to get them off him.
"No, Harry! You must come upstairs!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Please Harry," Ginny pleaded, holding onto him with enormous strength.
"LET ME GO!" Harry screamed, whipping out his wand and throwing them back by blasting them away.
He ran toward the door when suddenly Mr. Weasley jumped out in front of him to block his way.
"You don't want to do that, Harry! Only death is out there!" Mr. Weasley shouted.
"I'm used to it!" Harry shouted, before using his wand to throw him aside.
He quickly approached the door but a hand grabbed his ankle. Harry jerked and glanced down to see Ron trying to drag him back in. He was now convinced this had to be some sort of nightmare of something, but it felt so real and he couldn't seem to wake up. Roughly shaking him off, Harry wasted no time in hurling himself through the door. Unfortunately, once he was through he realized his feet didn't have anything to stand on. He screamed, startled, and felt himself free-falling all and soon it all turned black.
XXXXX
At Hogwarts in the Gryffindor Common Room.
The fireplace was burning with low flames, heating the sitting room. Two occupants in the room where seated by it with a mug of hot chocolate to soothe their nerves. The red-head was swirling his around, watching as the liquid changed colors. He wasn't really watching it, being since he was lost in thought. It was already close to eleven p.m. and he still wasn't tired. Sighing for the umpteenth time, he inclined his head toward the brown-haired girl seated on the couch reading a book.
"Hermione? Are you really reading that boring History of the Flesh-Eating Plants book?"
Letting it slip from her lap, Hermione sighed irritably. "Well, I was!" she said hotly, before her frustrated expression morphed into exhaustion. "I'm sorry, Ron. I haven't gotten much sleep lately."
Ron nodded glumly. "Me either. Ginny's probably fast asleep back at home. I mean…I'm glad Dumbledore let us stay here, but it's just…lonely."
He heard Hermione sniffle and he turned to catch her rubbing her eyes. "I'm fine," she whispered, setting the book down. "How much longer do you think the meeting will last?"
"Don't know. They've been meeting for days off and on now," Ron said softly. "My dad won't tell me anything except that Dumbledore's working with the Ministry and Order members to counter V-Vold…you-know-who's attack. But you would think that we would've heard something by now."
Hermione bit her lip and nodded, as her eyes dimmed. "I still can't believe my plan didn't work. I thought I'd be able to reach him, but…it didn't even go through. The ministry must have put up an extra protection. No wonder it seemed too easy."
"Yeah, I didn't expect the alarm to go off like that. I'm glad we didn't get in trouble," Ron murmured, slipping down further into the chair. "It was a great plan, Hermione. It really was."
"Those stupid Death Eaters!" she exclaimed shakily. "They're the reason it didn't work! Whatever they did completely sealed off the barricade; no amount of magic from our side can open it."
"What about from Harry's side in the muggle world?" Ron asked.
Hermione stopped for a second then shook her head. "There's no way Harry would have enough power to get himself back here. He's trapped there forever!" she sobbed, cupping her hands over her face.
Ron sat up awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort her. "Look, we can't give up on him. He's survived near-deaths so many times. I'm sure he's not dead. He's probably just hiding out and biding his time until Dumbledore figures out a way around the barricade."
"That'll take forever! It's already been five days since Fudge brought that…that article about Harry being dead and the Dursley's house being destroyed!" she shouted, as she blinked tears away and rubbed her face. "And that stupid Skeeter woman! How dare she come in and demand to interview Harry when he's out there possibly dead!"
"She did have some plausible information though," Ron spoke up softly, earning a glare from her. "I mean, that's just what my dad said. Something about a Black Hag."
Hermione sat up straight in surprise before her eyes dimmed. "That's just a myth. The Black Hag was a witch who delved into the dark arts too much and cursed the amulet she wore. The old legend book states that she was able to suck powers from anyone, but her necklace was never found, nor was she after she apparently killed herself accidentally by messing too deep into dark magic."
"Yeah, but maybe that means the Dark Lord is trying to find that necklace."
"Perhaps or maybe it's just a ploy of hers to get that interview," Hermione glared at the fireplace. "Either way it doesn't matter. Harry's still trapped there with those Dementors and probably tons of traps that the Death Eaters set for him. There's nothing we can do to help him!"
Ron's shoulders slumped, knowing she was right. "Maybe we can't right now, but we can still help Dumbledore as much as we can. Hopefully he's come up with a plan by now."
"Yeah, well, working with those Ministry members who follow Fudge is kind of pointless. They don't want to send out a warning to everybody warning them of Voldemort's possible attack or that he's still at large because they say they don't want to cause panic, but really they also don't want people to start running away. I bet the Ministry is going to try and force every semi skilled wizard out there to help fight against Voldemort's army," Hermione said, leaning back against the cushions. "And you know that will definitely cause panic. At least if they're told ahead of time they have some time to escape and go into hiding."
"Yeah, well…if only Fudge was replaced. He obviously thinks he knows more about how to solve problems with You-Know-Who than Dumbledore, but I'd rather kill myself than let Fudge make the final plans," Ron said honestly.
Hermione nodded and they both fell into silence. Finally, Hermione turned to him slowly. "Your brother Charlie is still in Romania, right?"
"Yeah, why?" Ron turned to face her.
"Well…the Death Eaters are all around here and in London and probably where Hogsmeade is as well. So Romania is safer. You and your family could go there."
"I guess," Ron shrugged. "But really the safest place is Hogwarts."
"Yes, maybe, but we can't fit everyone in here. Besides, it will only remain safe until Voldemort figures out how to get around the protections. I'm sure he's been working on it for years. After all, he did go to this school once. He'll find a weakness sooner or later," Hermione countered with a grim look.
"So what you're saying is the only choice is to die fighting, right?" Ron grumbled.
"Yeah…," she trailed off, her eyes dimming. "That's what Harry's been doing all these years. And we're all trained wizards and witches here. I'm sure the number of magical folk not on the Dark Lord's side is greater than his."
"You're not counting the Dementors and dark creatures working for him," Ron reminded her darkly.
"Well what about the giants. Hagrid got them on our side, remember? And I'm sure he's trying to get others like the centaurs and maybe get some dragons that they can let loose on the Death Eaters. Although…the dragons would probably attack everybody," Hermione sighed worriedly. "I guess we'll just have to see when the time comes. For now, I'm going to go upstairs and try to get some sleep."
Ron nodded and watched as she got up and headed toward the girls' dorm. "Goodnight," he said.
Pausing for a second, Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded with a forced smile. "Goodnight."
Then she disappeared up the stairs and left Ron alone to mull in his thoughts. Sighing heavily, Ron decided perhaps he should try and get some sleep. There was no use in just sitting around moping over everything.
"Harry, wherever you are, I hope you're alright," he whispered aloud as he climbed up the stairs to the boys' dorm.
XXXXX
The first thing he realized when he came to was that there was a throbbing pain in his arm. Groaning, Harry blinked rapidly and tried to gain his focus back. His head ached and his body felt cold and damp. Very slowly, he picked himself up and rubbed his arm. Jerking his head down, he realized his cold hands were coming into contact with bare skin. Where was his shirt? When his vision finally cleared, he lifted himself onto wobbly legs and blinked, staring out ahead of him.
It was dark that much he was certain of, but he didn't know where he was. Looking around, he suddenly realized he was in an alley way, right by the shop he had just come from. His memory was suddenly jogged when he remembered selling an item to get muggle money and then…then he had gotten that strange letter and met Dumbledore's brother then somehow got to his friends, but…something went wrong and now…now he was back in the muggle world. Or perhaps he had never left.
Turning all around, he noticed that he smelled pretty bad. The reason for it was because he had been lying in a heap of garbage in the alley way with no shirt on. It had apparently rained at some point because his pants and hair were still soaked. He was so utterly confused; what day was it? What time was it? What had happened?
Hearing some jangling, he inclined his head around and saw a man not far from him at the edge of the alley way sitting with grungy clothes and warming by a small fire lit in the garbage can. Harry figured he must've been homeless. Had he noticed him lying there? Harry stood up and began to approach him cautiously, reaching inside his pants for his wand just in case.
What the—!
His wand was missing! That was definitely not a good sign. He couldn't be without his wand while he was trapped in the muggle world; that was certain death. Feeling a bit nervous, he continued approaching the man, who was preoccupied with sticking some sort of goop onto a rusty plate and he noticed something very unsettling. The man was using his shirt as a sort of scarf that was hanging around his neck. Harry licked his dry lips, trying to convince his self that this man wasn't as bad as a Death Eater.
"Excuse me?" he said quietly.
The man didn't seem to hear him as he coughed violently before heating up the contents on the rusty plate. Harry shivered and wrapped his arms around his bare chest.
"Excuse me?" he said louder.
The man grunted and turned to stare at him. He squinted and then raised both eyebrows. "Oh, so you're alive," he smiled with yellow teeth. "I thought you was dead so I left yous there. Oh, and I borrowed this," he said, grabbing the shirt from around his neck. Grinning, the man handed it over and Harry nodded with thanks as he slipped it back on.
"You wouldn't happen to have taken my wa—the stick that was in my pocket, would you?"
"Oh eh…let me think," he said, squinting again. "Ah yeah, I think I used it to cook me hot dogs," he said, fishing around in his grungy backpack. "Ah, here it is."
He took out the wand and Harry sighed with relief, reaching out for it. The man, however, pulled his hand back and Harry immediately tensed. Those disgusting yellow teeth grinned at him again and the man nodded to him.
"How much are you going to give me?" he asked.
"Give you?" Harry asked. Then he reached into his pockets, making sure the man didn't steal his money. Thankfully, he had been smart enough to shrink the money down with his wand so it was easier to walk with.
"I'll need that first," he said, gesturing to it.
"I don't think so," he said, waving the wand around. Harry watched as a spark came out and the man blinked, having seen it out of the corner of his eye.
"Please. I'll pay you a good fifty dollars for it," Harry insisted, reaching into his pocket. "I promise I won't run. Here, I'll step this close to you so you can grab me if I try."
"With what? I checked your pockets?"
"I hid it in a special place just in case," Harry retorted quickly.
The man watched him get closer and finally, albeit reluctantly, he nodded and slowly handed the wand over. Harry dug in his pocket, realizing there was no way to turn his back around to use his wand otherwise the man would get suspicious. He pulled out the tiny money and the man squinted.
"There's no money!"
"Yes, there is," Harry insisted, waving his wand over it. The money turned back to its regular size and the man's mouth dropped open as he stared at the pile. Harry pulled out fifty dollars and handed it to him.
He took it while still staring at the pile of money Harry then shrunk and shoved into his pocket. "Would you know what day it is?"
The man didn't look away from the wand as he nodded. "Eh, sure…it's Tuesday."
"Tuesday? But…but that means I've been out for three days. How is that possible?" Harry asked aloud, mostly to himself since the man was busy ogling his wand.
"I'll let yous keep your fifty dollars if you let me keep that," he said, pointing at the wand.
"I'm sorry, but I need this. Besides, you wouldn't be able to work the magic anyway," Harry said.
"Oh really?" he grunted. "Well then, give me all your money."
"What?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I just gave up a real penny there so I deserve alls that money yous got," he answered, holding out his hand.
Harry tensed but an idea struck him. Nodding, Harry stepped forward and the man grinned. Suddenly, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man's forehead.
"Obliviate!" he exclaimed.
A jet of light erupted from the wand and hit the man square in the head before he had a chance to utter a word. Harry quickly put his wand back in his pocket as the man blinked and then stared at him.
"Hey…aren't you that kid that was lyin' dead over there?" he pointed, squinting.
"Er, nope. I was just passing by," Harry lied, walking away as quickly as he could without bringing attention to himself.
Sighing with relief as he exited the alley way, he made his way back toward a restaurant he knew stayed open until late in the night. He could go where there were some people, pay for a small meal, and sit down and think about what he had just found out. After all, his stomach was growling loudly to tell him that it hadn't had anything in a long while. He was thankful when he found it was only eleven at night so the restaurant was open until two a.m. He was seated immediately and ordered a burger with French fries and a cola to settle the hunger that was aching inside him. As he sat eating mechanically, he thought about what had happened. He had been out for three days since he had gone to Mrs. Figg's and had the Dementor try to attack him there. The Dementors had three days to find him, but why didn't they?
There was no doubt in his mind that everything he had seen had been an illusion—dark magic. That dream was definitely no dream and he even had the bruise on his arm to prove it. He must've hit one of the Death Eater's traps when he was walking out of the shop where he had exchanged his item for money. The Death Eater's most likely set up a mind-illusion curse—a curse that used a person's memories and trapped them in their own mind. If he had stayed too long, it would've consumed his soul completely and he would be dead. That was probably why his scar kept acting up; it was trying to warn him that his time was almost up. And that explained why his friends were acting so strange and how they flickered occasionally. Whatever Death Eater had set it up didn't do a very good job; if he had done it correctly Harry wouldn't have even been able to tell his friends weren't really his friends and that the food didn't fill him up.
Clenching his fists in anger, Harry realized he didn't just have to worry about the Dementors, but also whatever traps the Death Eaters left behind. And what would happen if he couldn't get out of the muggle world? Every Dementor was out there looking for him and there was no way he'd know just how many traps had been set just to kill him. It was definitely apparent it had been an illusion; that was why he was out for three days in a coma-like state, which was why the homeless man thought he had died.
If that whole thing was an illusion: getting the letter and going back to Sirius' then was the meeting with Aberforth part of that? He said something about seeing me in the future and that what he was telling me was true but not real. Did I have a premonition while inside of the mind curse? I'll have to figure that out later…right now there are more important things to do. Still…I'm lucky to have gotten out of that when I did or I would be lying dead in that alley way.
"Would you like a refill young man?" a waitress came up to him smiling.
Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said, as she smiled again and took away his cola to get him a fresh glass.
He had finished the burger already and was concentrating on his fries. He didn't want to buy too much because he needed the money; he wasn't sure how long he'd have to hide out there but he definitely didn't want to get stuck on the streets. He could go back to Mrs. Figgs' but he had to be careful in case the Dementor came back with reinforcements. Harry glanced up as the waitress set the cola down.
"Is there anything else?"
"Actually, could I have some chocolate ice cream," Harry answered. "Oh, and also a burger to go please."
"Sure thing," she smiled, walking away.
He sighed heavily, wondering how he could get himself out of his current predicament. How could he escape? The Dementors seemed to be able to move around anywhere in the muggle world, but they couldn't leave either apparently or they would've tried. Still…how was it that the Death Eaters would be able to know that he was dead, unless…
Unless they can somehow move back and forth through the worlds. I'm certain Voldemort knows a way to get around the barrier; after all it is because of him it was placed. That must be it!
"Here you are," the waitress said as she handed him his food. "And I assumed that was all so here's your check."
"Thanks," Harry smiled gratefully and she nodded and turned back around.
He finished off his fries and began on his ice cream, finishing his musings.
That means that there is a way to get out of here, but only the Death Eaters are aware of that. If there's a way I can trick them into thinking I'm…I'm a Death Eater or something, I could get through! But I can't make a Polyjuice potion…So what could I do?
Thinking hard, Harry ran options through his head. The only way he could possibly fool a Death Eater into thinking he was one of them was to lure one Death Eater out in the open and make sure he dies and then somehow disguise himself as the Death Eater…
Harry sat up straight in his chair, nearly choking. Tonks was a…what had Hermione called it? A metamorphmagus, which mean she could change her appearance at will. It was rare and very difficult, but if he somehow learned how to do it, it just might work. He could lure a Death Eater out in the open by shooting up red sparks. And he could make sure it's at the same time that he's being chased by a Dementor. If he timed it right, he could confuse the Dementor and stun the Death Eater. The Dementor, being hungry for Harry, would go for the easiest prey.
After all, even when the Dementors were sent to kill Sirius back in his third year, they almost killed him and others. As long as they could feed they wouldn't care who they fed on. So if the Dementor killed the Death Eater, Harry could then scare it away with a Patronus charm and then he could metamorphosize into the Death Eater. And then he could transfigure the Death Eater to look like him with a simple transfiguration charm. It worked on inanimate objects, but if the guy was dead then it would probably have the same effect! That way, he could summon other Death Eaters claiming Harry Potter was dead and then they would probably take him right to Voldemort. And that way the Death Eaters would really think he was dead.
The only problem with the plan was learning how to do such a complex ability. It wouldn't be easy and there was no telling what complications could arise if he didn't do it correctly. Mrs. Figg had some magical books back at her house; perhaps there was one about a metamorphmagus. If so, he'd have to try and learn as much as he could about it. If he was supposedly a powerful wizard, then hopefully he would learn it quickly. It was his only option. Cleaning up and taking his burger, Harry paid the check and left a tip before leaving and heading back toward Mrs. Figg's house. He kept in the shadows just to be safe and made it without any trouble. The door was locked so he had to use magic to get inside. Luckily, the house keeper wasn't there anymore and hopefully she wouldn't be coming back anytime soon. Closing and locking the door, Harry made his way up the stairs, past the meowing cats and into Mrs. Figg's room to hopefully find a book that could help him. It was now his only hope for escape.
TO BE CONTINUED…