Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Supernatural are not mine.


CHAPTER FIVE: Sò A (The Fate)

Hogwarts, Scotland

October 26, 1997

"Rennervate!"

The boy had grown a lot in the year he'd been gone. Watching emerald eyes blink away the last of the stunners he'd been struck with it was easy to see the man he was becoming. He'd gained several inches of height and his girth was strong and muscled. His hair was cut short in a military style and without his glasses he was not quite the spitting image of James.

Still, Remus Lupin's heart ached at what his friend's son had become.

Harry looked up from where he lay on the stone floor, his gaze focusing past the bars separating them. "I thought I smelled a sheep in wolf's clothing."

Remus balked at the loathing he heard in the young wizard's tone, but didn't respond.

Bracing his shackled hands on the dungeon floor, a heavy manacle on each wrist with less than a foot of chain between them, the dark haired teenager pushed himself up into a sitting position with his back resting on the opposite wall. His knees came up to his chest and he let his arms drape casually over them. "Are you going to just stand there and stare at me, Lupin? Get comfy, the floor show doesn't start until eleven."

"Don't you get it?" Remus stalked toward the cell. "The power the Dark Lord left inside you the night he killed James and Lily has poisoned you, Harry. The things you've done, because of it, ever since you came back into this world-"

"Do you honestly believe that?" Harry snorted derisively. "God, he's got you so twisted up in what he views as the Greater Good that you've convinced yourself the lies are the truth."

"I didn't need convincing." Remus shook his head sadly. "Once I was free of your manipulations I could see the truth for what it was. If we don't stop you now, you'll be worse than the Dark Lord ever was!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Let me tell you about the Dark Lord, Lupin. He was no wizard."

"Then what was he?"

"A demon. A very old, very powerful Demon named Xezbeth who had possessed the muggle son of the squib daughter of the last descendant of Slytherin. Xezbeth is the demon of lies and legends. And sixty years ago he wanted a way into the Wizarding World."

Remus' golden eyes narrowed. "And how do you know all this?"

"Because I went looking for it," Harry sneered. "The most powerful Dark Lord of our time targeted my family, Lupin, and I wanted to know why. So, I had some friends look a few things up for me. Like exactly who Tom Riddle was and where he came from. You know what I found? Absolutely nothing.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle was born in the same orphanage he was raised in and, in the eleven years he was there, there was not one single record of accidental magic. His name isn't even in the Book of Enrollment for Hogwarts any year he attended. The only reason anyone knew he even existed is because someone went looking for him. And guess who that was? Dumbledore."

Opening his mouth to refute what he was hearing Remus was cut off before he began as Harry continued.

"The nuns who ran the orphanage knew something was wrong about Riddle from an early age. They even tried to exorcise him several times. Except Xezbeth is a Prince of Hell; standard exorcisms wouldn't work once he dug his claws in. Poor little Tom Riddle never stood a chance. By the time Dumbledore got there, Xezbeth would have been so deeply entrenched that nothing was getting him out unless he wanted out. But the only place he wanted to go was Hogwarts.

"I don't know what the deal was that was made, but in 1938 Xezbeth came to Hogwarts and seven years later, the same year he 'graduated', Dumbledore suddenly got it into his head to go after Grindelwald. Why is that? What would compel a simple transfiguration professor to think that he was capable of defeating the Wizarding power behind Adolf Hitler?"

"You're saying this Demon-"

"Gave him the power. Xezbeth created the Legend of Dumbledore." Harry interrupted. "It's what it does, Lupin. It makes deals with people who don't just want fame and fortune, but infamy and their names in the annals of history. When that fame begins to wane people will anything to keep it, most of the time earning a one way trip to Hell without Xezbeth having to deal for them.

"Now, thirty years is a long time to rest on your laurels. Other than having a few prestigious titles handed to him, what else has Dumbledore done? Twelve uses of Dragons Blood? Big deal, nobody really cares. His work in Alchemy? Nicolas Flamel's name is more recognizable in that field. Dumbledore needed something to bring his name back into the limelight.

"Then Xezbeth comes back, touting the name Voldemort, and all but daring Dumbledore to come stop him. It would have been another feather in his cap, except Dumbledore forgot the cardinal rule when it comes to demons: The power a demon grants can never be used against it. No matter how many times Dumbledore tried, he was never going to defeat Voldemort. Didn't people wonder why the great and powerful Albus couldn't dispatch one piddly little Dark Wizard? Grindelwald was a worldwide threat; Voldemort hadn't branched out yet and was only a problem here in the UK. "

Remus was bristling but couldn't find his tongue to refute what the teenager was saying. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it was making all kinds of terrible sense.

"Tarnishing his fading star even more," Harry continued, seeing he was getting to the man, "was the Prophecy. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who will thrice defy him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the Other... for one cannot live while the second survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...'

"I'm still torn on who exactly the Dark Lord truly is, but at the time Dumbledore saw this Child of Prophecy as someone who would replace him as Savior of the Wizarding World. Dumbledore couldn't have that, so he set up the two children who fit the criteria of Trelawney's prediction as he interpreted it. He just never counted on Xezbeth having a different agenda.

"When Xezbeth showed up that night, he didn't come to Godric's Hollow to kill me. My parents, yes, but I was never a target. He'd heard of another demon in America that was building a host of psychic children dosed with his blood. It was meant to increase their natural gifts and enslave them to him. It didn't work, mind you, not like he hoped, but that's not the point. The point is that Xezbeth wondered what would happen if the demon given power of a Wizard - albeit millennia removed from the original source - was augmented with fresh demon blood."

That caught Remus' attention and the werewolf discovered his voice. "What do you mean demon given power?"

"Myrddin Emrys - we also call him Merlin - was a Cambion, a half demon." Harry explained smugly. "He was the son of Marchosias, a Marquis of Hell, and wrote in his journal the story his was told of the origin of Magical Humans. Lilith, the first wife of Adam, would not be dominated by him and, when she would not conform, God punished her and she became the first demon. Except she was with child and when she birthed him she gave birth to the first Wizard. I have a copy of the journal the Goblins found for me. I'll lend it to you."

Remus could only gape.

"The demon part of Wizards is so diluted it's negligible and, in time, we will eventually breed magic out of us if we keep having babies with muggles; the purebloods were right about that. But that night, Halloween 1981, Xezbeth cut my forehead open-" Harry reached up with his chained hands and fingered the scar prominent on the skin. "-and mingled our blood together. He was not, however, prepared for the backlash of power. He was expelled from Riddle's body and banished back to Hell. It took him years to claw his way back to Earth, out a Devil's Gate in Albanian forest, but he couldn't get back into the Wizarding World. In the end it was Quirrell who brought him back when the stupid man had gone there to summon him and try to make a deal with a devil.

"No longer content to just possess another's body, Xezbeth wanted one of his own. So he plotted and planned and, since he couldn't get near Hogwarts to do the job himself - Did you know Dumbledore had warded the school against Demons after my first year? - had me kidnapped the night of the third task. He used my blood - his blood, really - to call forth his physical manifestation. Now, with his own body, the demon's powers are stronger and he will be near impossible to defeat should he begin his campaign of terror again. Dumbledore's only chance of stopping him is to use my blood - Xezbeth's blood - in another ritual to siphon my power into Dumbledore himself. He does that and Albus' star will shine brighter than Merlin himself. Isn't that right, Headmaster?"

"Silencio!"

Remus spun around in surprise as the charm struck the caged boy, startled to find Dumbledore and Snape standing behind him. Both men wore grim expressions and the twinkle was missing from Albus' normally jovial blue eyes.

"Do not listen to his lies, Remus," Albus cajoled as he drew nearer to the bars. "Mr. Potter has fallen further to the Dark then I imagined. I fear, even should the ritual purge him of the Dark powers of Voldemort, his soul will be lost to us."

Glaring at the three men watching him, Harry flipped them the bird and looked away.

Remus sighed, any doubts he had about the Headmaster were fleeing in the man's presence. "James and Lily would be heartbroken to see him like this."

"As am I." Albus placed a hand on Remus' back and turned him from the cell, guiding him out of the room and into the hall. "You don't need to return here, Remus. Severus has agreed to guard him and, with Mr. Potter chained and silenced, he is no longer a threat. We will keep him hidden in the deepest part of the castle until we are ready for the ritual. Do not give up hope, Remus. While damaged, Mr. Potter may yet come back to us the good lad he was meant to be. But do not torment yourself needlessly. If the ritual succeeds, he will understand why we have done as we have."

Ministry of Magic, London

October 31, 1997 (8:45am)

"This can't be true." Minister Scrimgeour looked up from the information that had been presented him and frowned at the monocle-speckled woman sitting across from him. "Where did you get this?"

"My source is impeachable, Minister," Amelia Bones told the Minister of Magic confidently. "I've also confirmed it with both the Goblins of Gringotts and the American Magical Congress. I'm afraid we've been lied to by a master, Rufus."

The greying red-haired man was fuming. "What can we do? To go against Dumbledore-"

"We don't have to do anything." The head of the DMLE assured the man. "He crossed the line, Rufus. He had his people carry out an assault on American soil and they have kidnapped an American Wizard who is still a minor under their laws! That that wizard happens to be Harry Potter is neither here nor there. The ICW has stripped Dumbledore of his position; the issued warrants for Mr. Potter have been revoked, all in the last four hours and all because of this evidence. And it has been strongly suggested to me by the ICW to rescind our arrest warrants by the end of the day. The Americans want him back, Rufus, and they've got a team in place just waiting for the go ahead."

"What do they need from us?" Rufus demanded. "They can have it! I want Dumbledore gone! I will see him thrown through the Veil for what he's done!"

"They just want to know where." Amelia gave the Minister a sly smile. "The team has already dealt with the nastier elements of this and they are preparing to move in to end it."

Lips pursed as he held back his rage, Rufus Scrimgeour nodded. "Hogwarts; I'm supposed to be there, along with several others, before sunset to witness the ritual. I can get them in."

Hogwarts, Scotland

October 31, 1997 (5:15pm)

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was very happy man. For the first time in more than a year, things were finally going right. Well, at least more right than they had been after Harry Potter led his friends that fateful night to the Ministry of Magic. Who would have thought that the death of a single muggle-born, and the permanent damaging of a pureblood, would see the galvanization of the Wizarding world?

It was something that Albus had been striving for for nearly a century.

He and Gellert had great plans for the Wizards and Witches of the world. It was a shame that his partner had gone the way he had. Consorting with the Germans had been the man's second biggest mistake; the first when he had murdered Albus' sister so callously. If Gellert had just agreed that Albus world view was so much better than his own they wouldn't have fought and dear Ariana wouldn't have been hurt.

Really, it had been all Gellert's fault.

When he had been a young transfiguration professor, Dumbledore came to realize that he didn't need a partner. No, he needed an enemy. The Wizarding World needed a common enemy, someone they could band together around defeating. And the General who led them in that defeat would be revered and loved and could guide them into the Utopia of his design. It was truly a perfect plan; he just didn't have the strength to carry it out. Albus had always been the brains of their partnership, but Gellert was the one with the power.

So while Gellert played with the Muggles, Dumbledore sought a Wizarding enemy. The line of Slytherin was loathed across the UK and years of searching had led Albus to Little Hangleton and then to the orphanage in London. He had not been prepared for what he found.

The Demon inside the last descendant of Slytherin had been a blessing and a curse. The thing had wanted inside the Wizarding World, promising Dumbledore power in exchange for helping the creature breach through the secrecy and security of Dumbledore's world. All it had wanted was information, to study and learn about the Wizarding World. Really what harm could it cause that Dumbledore would not be able to contain? So the deal had been made and Tom Riddle came to Hogwarts.

And Dumbledore was given the power he needed to defeat his former partner.

And he had been loved for it.

The Demon's mark on his chest, a small snake slithering from the gaping maw of a skull, had been easy to hide. Taming his familiar when he came across the injured bird had been more difficult. The phoenix, a being of pure Light, had not agreed with the deal he had made. It had taken several weeks but, in the end, he had been able to force the familiar bond with the firebird. With Fawkes tethered to him, the world accepted him as their Leader of the Light.

Titles and awards were bestowed upon him, but it was the position of Headmaster that he had coveted. With it he could influence and rear generations of Witches and Wizards to his way of thinking and create his Utopian world. They would revere him and his name would be remembered throughout the ages as the Savior of the Wizarding World.

Within his first years as Headmaster, the Demon inside Riddle made its appearance. It threatened to reveal Dumbledore's dark secret unless he was given access to the castle. Under the guise of applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arks professorship, Albus allowed the Demon entrance. The thing in Riddle's body spent hours inside the Library, though Albus could never figure out what it had been researching.

Years passed after that and Albus was content in his role in the Wizarding World. Ministers from around the world looked to him for guidance; an entire generation of Witches and Wizards had learned at his feet; his legend was growing and he was happy.

Then Voldemort reared his ugly head.

That damned Demon had been working for decades inside the Wizarding World, dealing and binding hundreds of Witches and Wizards to it, and was ready to use the Wizards to bring war and Armageddon to the Muggles. Realizing it was his doing, his fault the Demon had gained access to their world, Albus began his fight against the Demon. Except he was unable to use the powers given to him by that very same Demon against it and Dumbledore was losing. His legend began to fade.

But then the Prophecy was made and Dumbledore had hope again.

As a babe, neither child was capable of facing the Demon. It was relatively easy to convince both families to trust him and go into hiding, though Lily Potter had taken a bit more convincing, and even easier to lead the Demon's followers to them. The Child of Prophecy would perish, and the spells and magic weaved into the protection spells Albus cast over the children would siphon their magic, as they died, to him. With the added power, he would be able to send the Demon back to hell.

And yet, somehow, little Harry Potter lived. To this day, he still didn't know by what means Lily and James had been able to protect their son. The Demon had been banished from Riddle's body but Tom had spent most of his life possessed by the Demon; his soul had long ago been consumed and the body perished without it. The Demon still lived, however, and Dumbledore knew it would be back.

But Harry - the little orphaned boy who had done the impossible and survived the attack - was a weapon just begging to be used. If honed and forged just right, no other but Dumbledore would wield him and the Wizarding World would look to Albus again. And for fourteen years his plans went as he wished them to.

Now, however, the world was watching him again. The Demon had returned but had yet to show its hand. His efforts to prepare the World for war had him labeled delusional and power mad and being ignored by the very people he was meat to lead. That would just not do. So when the World began calling for Harry Potter's blood, Dumbledore realized what needed to be done. He had always planned to use Harry as a martyr for the Greater Good; he just adjusted his plans to see the boy regarded as a greater threat than Voldemort had ever been.

Finally, things were going right for him again. Fudge and Umbridge had been easily removed and Scrimgeour moved into their place. Rufus was a true politician; everything he did was about image and perception and how things could be twisted to his benefit. He was perfect for Dumbledore's manipulations.

With the backing of the Wizengamot and most of the ICW, the international Warrants for Potter's arrest had been easily issued. The Americans, Russians and Chinese had refused to abide by the warrants and had assured the ICW that if the boy was found hiding in their countries he would not be extradited back to Britain. Those had been the first countries Albus had initiated his clandestine searches of. It had been luck that Harry's magic signature had been located a few months ago, and after an exhaustive game of cat and mouse, Harry Potter was now a guest in the lowest levels of Hogwarts' dungeons.

It was worrisome that Harry knew as much as he did. Dumbledore had never known the Demon's name but what he found on the name Xezbeth confirmed everything Harry had told Remus. What the boy had postulated happening that night in 1981 was as frightening as it was exhilarating. It would explain so many things about Harry Potter as well as fit the prophecy. With Xezbeth's blood, the power would not be hindered like the power granted to Albus all those years ago. Harry had truly been marked the Demon's equal and it excited Albus.

The ritual Dumbledore planned for sunset would see the boy's magic stripped, a partial truth told to the others as a means to contain the budding Dark Lord, and merge the power with Albus' own. The boy was incredibly powerful, already as powerful as Albus had been at his prime; no doubt the result of his core behind enhanced at such a young age. With that added strength Albus held no doubt that he would be able to deal with the Demon and once again become the saviour the Wizarding World needed.

After all, the prophecy never said who would wield the Power to Defeat the Dark Lord.

"Albus, the children are beginning to return from Hogsmead."

The Headmaster looked up from his preparations in the center of the Great Hall and smiled at his Deputy. Minerva had been a constant support and he would see her greatly rewarded in the coming years. Once his power base was secure he would perhaps finally settle down and produce a proper heir; Minerva was aged, but not enough to prove too difficult to conceive.

"Thank you, Professor." Albus went back to his work, his wand directing a thin beam of magic to carve the last of the runes into the hexagram he had etched into the stone floor.

The woman's lips were pursed as she watched him, a small frown coloring her features. "Are you certain this is necessary, Headmaster?"

The white haired wizard didn't pause in his work. His power wove into his words, ensuring the woman's belief in what he said was absolute. "He is a danger to our way of life, Minerva. I fear the power left inside him when Voldemort was defeated all those years ago has corrupted him. He colluded with Sirius Black and had us convinced of the man's innocence. He murdered poor Cedric and had us convinced of Voldemort's return. For whatever reasons his infiltration of the Death Room, he murdered one friend and attempted the Murders of four others. That Sirius Black was killed in their stead was a blessing. On his own he has been unable to strengthen his grip on our society. We must do what we must for the Greater Good of the World."

McGonagall was still frowning, but nodded. "I'll see to it that the younger students understand why they are being sequestered to their common rooms for the feast this year and that the Sixth and Seventh years appreciate the gravity of the ritual they will be witnessing. With the stripping of his magic, perhaps we can again see the peace we enjoyed before Potter's return to the Wizarding World."

The smile on the Headmaster's face was not a kind one, but the woman had already left the hall and did not see. Yes, he would see her rewarded. She would make a fine mother for his heir - not that he planned on needing one. With the Flamel's stone residing among his possessions he would personally see the Wizarding World prosper for millennia to come.

Hogwarts, Scotland

October 31, 1997 (6:15pm)

Seventeen year old Neville Longbottom watched the grim events unfolding around him. The world, in his opinion, had gone mad. Leading the charge into insanity was the Headmaster himself. How anyone could believe most of the stuff the old man was saying was beyond the Gryffindor. Judging by the faces of his allies, it was beyond them too.

"You will be witness to history," Headmaster Dumbledore was saying to the senior students and visiting dignitaries. More than a dozen heads from the Ministry of Magic were present, as well as Minister Scrimgeour and a team of two dozen red hooded Aurors. Members of the press were counted among the guests, some of them from other countries. Dumbledore was certainly making a spectacle of this atrocity; a ritual that had not been considered for even the darkest of Wizards since the age of Merlin.

"Tonight we'll rid our world of the greatest threat to it since the height of Voldemort's campaign." Dumbledore continued from the dais where he stood in front of his opulent chair at the head table. "This rising Dark Lord has murdered great Wizards and Witches since his return to the Wizarding world six years ago; he has made a mockery of these hallowed halls; he had poisoned our allies against us. Tonight, he will be stripped of his power before he can destroy the peace we have fought, bled, and died for!"

The applause the man received was thunderous and Neville didn't even bother to join in with the throng. The whole thing disgusted him. He stood where the removed Gryffindor table once resided, only a few meters from the circled pentagram engraved into the floor, a frown on his face and his wand held at his side. Glancing around the Great Hall he saw the same expression mirrored on others as well.

The entire Hall went still when the doors suddenly swung open and a chained Harry Potter was escorted at wand point into the Hall.

The teenager, only a day younger than Neville, kept his head high despite his situation. His muggle clothing was torn in several places, dried blood stains proof that the young wizard had put up a fight when he'd been taken. Heavy manacles bound his wrists together in front of him and a thick leather strap covered Harry's mouth.

The heavy doors were shut behind the entering group and sealed to prevent any interruptions to the ritual about to take place. Snape led the grim procession up the center aisle with Lupin, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Tonks, Shacklebolt and Moody surrounding the supposed Dark Wizard. As the group passed him, Neville was relieved to see the fire still burning in Harry's emerald eyes. And that fire was aimed directly at Dumbledore.

"From this point on, there can be no magic." The Headmaster climbed down from the dais, walking toward the group when they stopped with Harry standing in the center of the pentagram. "The runes of the circle will power the ritual once it begins and any interference will have grave consequences to all of us present."

Harry didn't turn his hateful glare from Dumbledore when the cuffs were taken from his wrists or when he was forced to his knees. Charlie and Remus stood on either side of the young wizard, holding tight to his arms, while Tonks and Bill reached down to pick up a short length of chain that had been secured to the floor.

Neville's eyes went wide when he saw the inside of the cuffs that would be used to shackle his friend in place; rows of teeth lined the metal manacles and bit into Harry's skin when they were clasped around his wrists. Despite how painful it must have been there was no change to the expression on Harry's face.

Neville flicked his eyes around and, by the looks of those nearby, knew he wasn't the only one who noticed the jagged spikes. His gaze fell on the Minister and his entourage; the Aurors had begun to spread out around the hall. The young Gryffindor tightened his grip on his wand.

When the first drop of blood seeped from beneath the shackle, Dumbledore smiled. "You will soon be purged of the dark power inside you, my boy. Perhaps, without it, you can feel remorse for the lives you have so callously taken."

Harry's hands fisted at his side and he inhaled sharply through his nose. The blood was flowing steadily, leeched from his body by the magic of the runes and glyphs that marked the pentagram beneath him. Even as his blood ran down the length of chain and began to fill the channels etched into the floor, Harry's glare never wavered. His eyes locked with Dumbledore's and there was a light of victory in younger wizard's eyes.

Neville didn't understand Harry's expression until an applauding figure suddenly appeared lounging in Dumbledore's throne-like chair with its feet kicked up onto the head table.

"Bravo, Headmaster." The sibilant voice had the old man's head snapping away from Harry's face.

The man was not human, that much was readily apparent. His pallid, waxy skin; the snake-like features; the crimson orbs that served as eyes; Lord Voldemort had shown his face.

Screams echoed in the hall as the students and guests took in the creature before them. Those closest to the dais scrambled away from the monstrosity and many rushed toward the entrance, only to be held back by the seals doors. Neville turned his eyes back to Harry, watching his bleeding friend closely as the drama played out around him.

Dumbledore had drawn his wand, his calm facade faltering at the other's sudden arrival, aiming it steadily at the Dark Lord. "You cannot be here!"

"I assure you, I can." Voldemort's lipless mouth curved into a vicious smile.

"How?" Albus demanded. "I have warded the castle against your entry!"

"Quite simple, my friend." Voldemort hissed smugly. "You have desecrated the Heart-Stone of Hogwarts with innocent blood. You're wards mean nothing now."

Dumbledore's eyes went wide with realization and he looked back down at the blood still flowing in to the crevices in the stone. Glancing up he saw the Aurors moving about the room, circling through the crowd, and knew he needed to give them time to flank the Dark Lord. "He is no innocent!"

An undignified snort escaped Voldemort and the Dark Lord rolled his eyes. "Please. Let's not pretend anymore. Harry Potter is no Dark Wizard let alone a murderer. And just to make it worse for you, my dear Albus, the whole world now knows it."

Beneath the white beard, Dumbledore paled dramatically and his wand wavered. He glanced around the room again and Neville had to smile when the old man realized it was not Voldemort the Aurors had flanked. A look unlike any ever seen on the Leader of the Light before twisted the man's features into a vicious mask. "We had a deal!"

"Really, Albus, are you truly that dense?" Voldemort's grin was chilling. "I made a better deal."

Several things happened at once.

Rufus Scrimgeour, as well as the other Minister Department Heads, drew their wands and covered many of the Hogwarts staff. Neville stepped out of the crowd, along with nearly three dozen students from all four houses, with his wand at the ready and aimed at the rest of the guests around them. The Aurors now positioned throughout the room held their wands aloft, though five of them held muggle weapons. It was those five that pushed the hoods of their cloaks back as they drew closer.

Jim Murphy held his shotgun at the six Order of the Phoenix members who stood only a few feet away from the kneeling Harry. He motioned with the barrel of the weapon. "Wands on the floor. Now."

He was joined by a severe looking Bobby Singer, the gruff looking hunter holding a riffle threateningly on them. "Listen to the preacher, gents. And, using the term lightly, lady."

As the stunned six complied, John and Dean Winchester moved between the Headmaster and Harry while the fifth man tucked his pistol into the folds of his Auror robe and hurried to Harry's side.

"No, get away from him!" Dumbledore roared, turning his wand to the man only to freeze when he felt the tip of Snape's wand at the base of his neck. The old man gaped at his right hand man. "Severus-?"

"You won't need this." The potions master reached out and took the wand from Dumbledore's hand, holding it out for the youngest American to take.

Dean let the slender piece of wood slip through his fingers and clatter on the floor. Without taking his eyes, or revolver, off Dumbledore he brought the heel of his boot down on the wand. The snap of elder wood echoed through the stunned silence of the Great Hall and Dean just smirked. "Oops."

Shackles fell away from bloodied wrists, the clang of metal on stone drawing attention back to center of the Hall. Neville stepped forward, helping the man as he guided Harry to a spot on the floor away from the pentagram. Neville quickly unclasped and removed the leather gag from Harry's mouth. He could feel the eyes of the Headmaster staring at them but he ignored it as Luna joined them and assisted the man while he wrapped bandages around Harry's wrists.

It was Harry who met Albus' gaze and smiled. "Headmaster Dumbledore, allow me to introduce to you Caleb Potter-Reaves, eldest son of Charlus and Dorea Potter. My father."

The declaration had nearly everyone turning to stare at the pair. During that distraction, Voldemort came down from the dais and stood next to the disgraced Headmaster. "Not quite what you wanted, Albus, but your name will be remembered throughout history as the bastard who tried to sacrifice the Boy-Who-Lived to a demon."

Neville wanted to laugh when he heard that.

The doors to the hall were unsealed and most of the guests and students were escorted out by the Aurors and ministry heads. Tonks, Remus, Moody and the two Weasleys were arrested, as were McGonagall and the rest of the staff. They would be examined by the healers at St. Mungo's and those found to be under Dumbledore's compulsions would be treated and, in time, released.

"You all right?" Caleb asked his son quietly.

"Professor Snape made sure I was well cared for." Harry nodded wearily, leaning back against his father's chest. "Where's my wand?" He asked Caleb.

"I left it with Sam and Daniel back in London." Caleb answered with a light frown. "I knew you'd be in no condition to be using magic."

The dark haired boy sighed but nodded. He turned to Neville and tilted his head toward the blood stained pentagram. "Neville, would you mind?"

Neville placed a gentle hand on his friend's leg. "Not at all, Harry." He pointed his want as the circle. "Incendio Ampliusor!"

A burst of fire exploded from the tip of the wand and struck the stones. The flames spread quickly throughout the circle, burning up the blood and charring the channels carved into the floor. In less than a minute all traces of Harry's blood were gone, though the blackened pentagram remained.

"It was a very fine plan, Harry," Luna said as she cuddled against his side, "but did you have to bleed so much?"

Harry smiled softly at the petite blonde. "At least I had a plan this time."

"It was risky," Caleb admitted, absently petting at Harry's dark hair, "but, unless we wanted to keep running the rest of your life, it was necessary."

"Mr. Potter-Reaves?" The Minister of Magic stood off to the side with the Head of the DMLE beside him. They were alone in the hall now with just the Hunters, Neville, Luna, Harry, Severus, Voldemort and Dumbledore. Everyone else was gone and the doors were once again shut. Scrimgeour held out a small vial to Caleb containing a deep red liquid. When the father arched his eyebrow in cautious question, Rufus explained. "A blood replenishing potion. It'll help him recover more quickly."

When Harry had drained the vial, Madame Bones addressed them. "I would see Albus Dumbledore taken before the Wizengamot and on trial for what he's done to you and our World, Lord Black-Potter. But, as I understand it, there have been other arrangements made?"

Harry looked over to the Headmaster who had not moved from his spot and reluctantly stood, Caleb and Neville supporting him when he wavered. "Would you like to hear a story, Dumbledore?"

Surrounded by the hunters and Snape, weapons aimed and ready, Albus remained silent even as the being that was Voldemort chuckled. "You'll like this, Albus."

Harry flicked an unamused glare at the Demon made flesh but ignored the comment. "A couple months ago, my father-"

"Your father is dead," Dumbledore interrupted. "This muggle is an agent of Voldemort sent to deceive you and turn you away from the Light!"

Everyone just stared incredulously at the man. Harry shook his head and started again. "A couple months ago, my father and I decided we would stop reacting to you and your minions and work on getting you to leave me alone once and for all. We started researching Voldemort and why he came after my family. There had to be more to it than just that farce of a prophecy you told me after Sirius died. Professor Snape was able to fill me in on a lot of your manipulations after he realized it was you who set him up to feed part of the prophecy to Voldemort."

Dumbledore turned a vicious glare on his former compatriot. "You betrayed me, Severus!"

"You were going to sacrifice Lily's son," Severus sneered as only he could. "My vow was not to serve you but to protect him. My honor demanded nothing less."

"With his information and aid, my friends-" Harry continued and motioned to Neville and Luna. "-were able to confirm our suspicions about Tom Riddle since I couldn't come back to England to look myself."

"He really is the bright little Wizard," Voldemort conjured a plush chair and sat in it to watch the proceedings. "Damned brat had it figured out after a couple of weeks. He had the gall to summon me and had me dead to rights. How you found that devil's trap..."

"It pays to have friends in low places." Harry didn't turn his eyes from the fuming Headmaster. "Literally. The goblins were more than willing to help me out for the right price. And once trapped, Xezbeth was more than happy to tell me all your dirty little secrets."

"But the Prophecy!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "You're meant to destroy one another!"

Neville snorted. "That's your interpretation, dumbass." He blushed when everyone looked at him and he realized he had spoken aloud.

Harry smirked and turned back to Dumbledore. "He's right. That's one interpretation, but I think the one my father and I came up with fits better. Tell me, Dumbledore, how many times did you have to argue with my Mother before she agreed to let you cast the Fidelius Charm? It was three, wasn't it Professor Snape? She only consented after the fourth attempt to convince her. And I know for a fact that Dad has 'Defied' you at least three times in the last sixteen months."

"I am no Dark Lord!" Dumbledore roared indignantly. "I am the Leader of the Light!"

"Professor Snape, if you could please?"

The greasy haired man sneered. "With pleasure. Denudo! Detego! "

Dumbledore's clothing all vanished with the first spell, causing the old Wizard to hastily cover his genitalia with his hands, and the second had the concealing charm on his chest receding. Displayed prominently and directly over his heart was the infamous Dark Mark of Voldemort.

"Nice ink you got there, Gandalf," Dean scoffed.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Director Bones intoned gravely, "you are hereby under arrest for colluding with a Demonic Entity and allowing said Entity entrance into our World; a crime that had not been committed in over six hundred years. Should you be convicted in front a panel of your peers, your life and magic will be forfeit."

"No prison will hold me!" Dumbledore sneered. He seemed to be expecting something to happen, but when nothing did his face showed his confusion.

"If you're waiting for your Phoenix," Voldemort smiled serenely, which on his face was very unsettling, "He won't come anymore. I revoked my gift to you, Albus, and without my powers the bond you forced upon that abhorrent creature broke. He's long gone by now."

Harry pulled away from Caleb and Neville, still somewhat unsteady but not as pale or shaky as he had been. He walked toward Dumbledore and stopped a few feet from the man. "What you wanted for the Wizarding World was not wrong; a world of peace and prosperity for everyone. But the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. You may not have sold your soul to Xezbeth, but you made a deal with a devil. You've done evil things, Dumbledore, and you will burn in Hell for what you've done."

"And what about you?" The defeated man jeered. "You made a deal yourself!"

"Actually, he didn't. I did." Scrimgeour admitted regally. "When I joined up with the Americans before coming here, I was approached by Lord Voldemort-"

"I think you can call me Xezbeth, Rufus." The Demon said. "We made a deal, we should be on a first name basis."

"-Xezbeth, then." Rufus amended before continuing. "I'm a politician, Albus. I want to remain in power, but if you were to stand trial I would be drummed out of the Ministry for following you in your mad crusade against Lord Black-Potter. Xezbeth has kindly agreed to keep me in power for the next three terms as Minister, not too unreasonable I think, in exchange for one soul. Yours. Payment up front. All I had to do was allow the ritual to progress far enough that Lord Black-Potter's blood touched the Heart-Stone of Hogwarts and your wards against the Demon fell."

"You've already got a one way ticket," Xezbeth explained, rising to his feet and dispelling the chair he had conjured. He approached a now fearful Dumbledore. "Had it for more than five decades! But with you using that pesky Philosopher Stone, and you hidden away behind your wards, I'd have been waiting countless decades for you to make your way down to the rack. This way, I get you there so much quicker."

"He's also agreed to stay out of the Wizarding World for the next century." Rufus went on smugly. "Really, I think I got the better end of the deal."

"Oh, I beg to differ." Xezbeth was suddenly standing behind Dumbledore, his fingers digging into the flesh of the quivering man's throat. "What do you think, Albus? What can I possibly have that's going to entertain me for the next one hundred years? Now, I think it best if we take ourselves into the other room, dear Albus. These nice people don't need to watch as my Hell Hounds rip the soul from your body and drag it to hell."

In a blink of an eye, the two were gone. A few seconds later Dumbledore's screams could be heard coming from the Antechamber behind the dais, echoing throughout the castle, only to go silent a moment after they began. Severus was the one to check the room after things had gone quiet, and when he returned after a minute he was ghostly pale and shaking.

Seeing everyone watching him, the man cleared his throat. "Albus is no longer there and the... mess he left behind had been vanished; though the Elves may have a difficult time removing the stains."

"Lord Black-Potter," Amelia's quiet voice resounded in the stillness of the Hall, "I regret to inform you that Albus Dumbledore has escaped custody. Given his obsession with you, it is the suggestion of the Ministry of Magic that you leave the country for the time being." She glared at the young wizard then, distaste at the proceedings evident on her face. "Don't come back."

Harry snorted and gave his father a crooked smile. "I think I can do that."

40 000 Feet, North Atlantic Ocean

November 2, 1997

"Think we could keep the plane?"

Harry looked up from the book he'd been reading and watched his father sit in his own plush, leather seat. The seventeen year old hunter smiled. The Jet the Goblins had arranged for his Father and the other hunters to take over to the UK was a luxury none of them had ever imagined. With three different passenger areas - a sitting area, a dining room and a bedroom with en suite which Dean was currently occupying as the teenager would only agree to fly after being dosed and left to sleep through the flight -it was easy to forget they were cruising at a speed of nearly 600 miles per hour. The others were currently enjoying a five star meal prepared by the plane's staff, leaving Caleb and his son alone for the moment.

"Oh sure," Harry smirked, "we'll use it when we travel between hunts. It only cost about fifteen thousand dollars per flying hour. Or we could buy it. I think the information the goblins left for me gave it a price tag of about thirty-eight million dollars, not including pilots or flight staff."

"Ouch," Caleb winced, "good point." The older man watched Harry for a moment, frowning as he regarded his son. "Do you think Xezbeth was telling the truth? About what happened the night he killed your parents? Demons lie."

"They also tell the truth." Harry sighed, but nodded. "It makes sense, Dad. I cast a patronus when I was thirteen; one strong enough to banish nearly a hundred dementors in a feeding frenzy. No fully matured Wizard can do that, and I did it when I was a child. The healing thing I did with you and Dean; again, I've never heard of another Wizard being able to manipulate magic like that."

"Who all knows?" Caleb asked gravely.

"You, me, Bobby, Pastor Jim, Professor Snape and Remus."

"The Wizards? Is that a good idea?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know how far under Dumbledore's spell Remus was, or if he was just so blinded by the man's generosity to a 'beast' like him that he'd believe anything, but either way he won't believe what I told him. No one will, if he tells anyone else. He is a werewolf, after all; a Dark Creature. And Severus made an unbreakable vow the night my mother died to protect me. He won't tell anyone."

"I suppose that's true," Caleb sighed. "No one else can know, Harry; not even Sam."

"I know," the teenager acknowledged, "and I don't plan on telling anyone else, ever. I don't like the idea of Xezbeth's blood in me any more than you do, Dad. But, considering I'm a Wizard, and if you believe what was written in Merlin's journal, it just means I've got a little more demon in me than the rest of them."

Caleb was nodding, then paused. "You could go back, you know. You don't have to run anymore."

"To England?" Harry put his book aside and shook his head. "And do what, Dad? Go back to Hogwarts? It's going to be a mess there with all the teachers under investigation and undergoing treatment at St. Mungo's. Besides, other than Neville and Luna, there's nothing there for me. And they'll both be gone within the year. As far as I'm concerned, as long as they keep to themselves, leave me and mine alone, and don't involve the normal people of the world, the Wizard World can go to Hell in a hand basket."

"So what are you going to do now?" His father asked, trying to sound casual but there was a hint of fear in his tone. "You've got your High School Diploma; you could go to college."

"England? College?" Harry frowned. "Do you want me to go? I know it's not fun having a kid tagging around, especially one you never planned on raising or having to protect from most of the other hunters, so I'll go if you want me to."

"God, no!" Caleb exclaimed quickly, reaching over to place a hand on Harry's knee. "No, I never want you to go! I love being a father - being your father! - and I'll keep you with me until you're old and grey if you'll let me! I just... You only ever joined me Hunting because we needed to keep moving; to hide you from Dumbledore. Now you don't have to keep hiding."

"But I like what we do," Harry told him sincerely. "I like travelling with you, seeing the country with you, taking out the baddies that need to be taken out. I love being able to help people; Hermione use to call it my 'Saving People' thing. If I went back to the Wizarding World, or went off to College, I couldn't do that anymore. No more hunting, no more cheap motels and crappy diner food, no more snagging a drink or three with Bobby... I'd have to be respectable!"

Caleb laughed with relief. "Heaven forbid!"

Smiling again, Harry shrugged. "I guess we could keep the plane. Between the Potter and Black fortunes I could but it a hundred times over. We could see about Hunting internationally? I read there was a Devil's Gate in Nabukelevu Volcano in Fiji; we could always check it out. Or what about Mar Chiquita in Argentina? I hear they've got a Shabriri"

"Who's got a demon of blindness?" John asked as he came back from the dining area. Sam was right behind him.

"South America," Harry answered with a smile. "Dad and I were talking about taking a hunt down there; or possibly Fiji."

"You're not buying the plane." Caleb jabbed a finger at his son with a teasing scowl.

Sam's brow wrinkled in through. "Are we thinking about hunting in other countries now?"

"I know of a Shedim in a graveyard in Oaxaca, Mexico." Bobby mentioned as he and the others joined them in the sitting area.

"There was a pair of Ikhthyokentauroi in a lake near Budapest." Daniel offered.

"Somewhere warm, Danny." Harry corrected the man with a smile.

"You're not buying the plane!" Caleb donned a real scowl.

Elkins just shrugged and flopped into a chair. "Okay, what about the Yara-ma-yha-who in Australia?"

"We'd have to get our passports," Jim contributed and took a seat on the leather sofa across from Caleb. "I think mine may have expired in 1988."

"Dean wouldn't like all the air travel," John pointed out.

"If he got to keep the bedroom he'd be okay, I think." Sam suggested.

Harry looked around at everyone then back to his father. "I'll talk to the Goblins when we get back to New York."

"You are not buying the plane!"