Chapter Sixteen

Harry had been assaulted with visions from Voldemort that night as well, new visions of his latest scheme. Voldemort was back up to full power after their last encounter and he was planning his most aggressive attack yet. It would happen soon. He would be unopposed.

Guilt ripped through Harry. He hadn't felt guilt in a very long time, he forgot how heart wrenching and painful it was. He should be there, doing something. But he'd made his choice, this was where he belonged now, he would not change his mind again.

He only knew one way to rid himself of the guilt, one way to make himself feel something other than the excruciating loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him. His eyes locked on the Sword of Gryffindor where it leaned against the wall. He strode over to it and picked it up, examining the blade, unable to tear his eyes away from the gleaming steel. The same expression crossed his face as when he had last picked up his knives. There was a way to make this all go away.

Hours later he sat in his usual secluded seat at the bar. He wore a long sleeved shirt, not something he normally did, to cover up his now wounded arms. He had never been drunker in his life, and nobody in the bar had the heart to stop him. They studied the expression of utter hopelessness and despair on his face and just let him be.

Lorraine watched him from afar, keeping an eye on the man she wanted so badly to help. She finally went to him when he swayed slightly in his seat and lowered his head to the surface of the bar, his hand clutched tightly to his forehead. Poor kid must have the spins right about now. As she drew closer to him, she could hear him mumbling under his breath, though she had no idea what he was saying. It almost seemed as if he were hissing out words every once in a while.

Someone else was watching Harry and his interaction with Lorraine. Alexis, the teenage girl that Harry had saved, sat in a far corner of the room, her gaze fixed on the mysterious man who had saved her life. She was determined to uncover his secret, his reason for leaving London, what stood behind his depression that was so similar to hers.

Lorraine touched Harry's shoulder but he did not seem to register her touch. "Come one Damien," she whispered lowly in his ear, "I think you've had enough, it's time to go home." Harry didn't budge, he kept mumbling under his breath. "Damien, please, this isn't healthy." She pleaded with him.

Harry raised his head from the table, holding his torso up with his arms locked straight on the table. "You talking to me?" He swivelled his head towards her, his red rimmed eyes connecting with hers.

"Yes, Damien, come on now, this is getting ridiculous."

"Look, sweetheart," Harry slurred, "I don't know who this 'Damien' is that you keep talking about. My name's Harry." He pointed at himself. "Harry Potter."

Lorraine sighed. "Damien, you're drunk, you don't know what you're-"

Harry stood from the seat with such force he knocked it to the ground and almost sent Lorraine down with it. An unexplainable energy crackled around Harry and it made everyone in the bar unconsciously take a step back. Dark fire filled Harry's eyes and everyone stood frozen in terror. "Don't any of you fucking get it! I'm not worth it! Stay the fuck away from me! I'm not the good guy here! Just because I saved one fucking girl doesn't mean I'm some hero to be worshipped! I have done nothing in my life to be proud of!I can't even-" Harry clenched his fists as his voice cracked. "Fuck!" He shoved a nearby table over, kicking the chairs that surrounded it, sending them all to the floor. He screamed once loudly in frustration and stormed out of the bar, leaving some of his crackling aura behind him.

Silence filled the bar, nobody wanted to break it.

Alexis watched him leave, tears filling her eyes. She understood his words better than anyone else in the room. She had to follow him. She had to tell him that he wasn't alone, she knew how he felt.

She immediately stood and left the bar, intending to follow Harry to wherever he had gone, but by the time she had put on her thick jacket and actually left the building, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

She pulled the jacket tighter as the wind bit into her skin and the rain stung her face. She had no idea where he would have gone, she hadn't actually been aware of him by anything but rumour until the last few days. She knew nothing about him. So she checked the first logical place she could think of, his house. She hesitated, remembering her first encounter with Harry there. As she thought of his name in her head she was perplexed as to why he would have changed his name. She could understand it if he was well known, but nobody here had ever heard of anyone called Harry Potter. Why would he change it?

The door to his house stood slightly ajar and she didn't know whether to take that as a sign that he was there. She pushed her way in silently, horrified to find it completely trashed. There were clothes and empty bottles everywhere. All the furniture was overturned. A large sword lay on the coffee table, the same she had seen him using the other day. She wandered towards it, curious, her hand outstretched, ready to touch it. She recoiled her hand though as she got close enough to see that there was a stain of blood on the blade. What had he done?

She hurriedly turned around and left the house. She was more anxious now than ever. Had this man hurt someone? More importantly, had he hurt himself? She almost laughed at her concern for him, drawing the parallels of how people had always been so worried about her for the same reason. She had to find him.

She wandered the city for almost an hour, her anxiety growing every second. It finally occurred to her that he probably worked at the harbour and she changed directions, heading towards the dark, stormy water.

Once reaching the harbour, she was overwhelmed by all the boats there, he could be hiding anywhere. She turned her head back and forth, squinting through the rain, trying to pick out any human shape. The faint light from the street lamps on the docks did not make it very easy.

She wandered down the docks, walking carefully on the rain slicked boards. She stopped in front of a boat aptly named 'Serenity.' The irony of the name made her smile, but for some reason she was drawn to it. She boarded this boat, an invisible force pulling her forwards. On the fore deck of the ship, right up at the bow, she spotted Harry. He was sitting, unblinking, at the water, his feet dangled off the edge of the boat. His shirt was completely soaked through and he was shivering.

Alexis made her way to him cautiously, not wanting to startle him. As she got closer, she realized that he was mumbling to himself. She knelt down beside him and it seemed as though he was still not aware of her presence. She reached out her hand towards him but did not touch him, he seemed to be in a trance. She sat on the cold metal deck beside him, silently. She was just close enough that she could hear what he was saying.

"From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were; I have not seen

As others saw; I could not bring

My passions from a common spring.

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow; I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone;

And all I loved, I loved alone.

Then- in my childhood, in the dawn

Of a most stormy life- was drawn

From every depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still:

From the torrent, or the fountain,

From the red cliff of the mountain,

From the sun that round me rolled

In its autumn tint of gold,

From the lightning in the sky

As it passed me flying by,

From the thunder and the storm,

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view."

(Alone, Edgar Allen Poe)

Harry stared off into the night, his eyes unfocused, his body still shaking. He had stopped mumbling. It was hard to tell, because of the rain dripping off his body, but she could swear there were tears rolling down his face. Something had shifted in him. Instead of looking harsh and cold, Harry simply looked empty, tired and broken.

She stood and reached her hand out to him. "Harry..." She called softly, opting to use his real name. His dead, glazed eyes looked around and connected with hers, a small smile peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Harry..." He heard his name being called softly from behind him. He swivelled his head and looked up at where the sound was coming from. A figure stood there. His vision was blurred and it was hard for him to see. The person who stood there was desperately pale, a delicate face framed with soft blond hair. He smiled up at the blond figure. Draco was here.

A hand was extended before him and he took it, lifting himself off the ground. Draco's hand was just as soft and warm as he remembered. He pulled back on the hand pulling him forwards. "What are you doing here?" He asked breathlessly.

Alexis was incredibly confused. The man standing before her held nothing of the personality of the man from the bar. His features had softened, longing and emotion on his face. It never crossed her to think that he might think she was someone else. His eyes were still hazy, he was not seeing the real world.

"What do you mean Harry?" Her brows drew together. "I came to make sure you were okay. You ran out into the rain and-"

Harry stepped forwards, cupping both sides of her face in his hands. He didn't seem to notice that 'Draco' was much shorter than he was, or that 'his' voice was much more feminine. He was lost in his own world. "Shh. I'm sorry, you don't need to explain. I'm so glad you're here." He kissed her forehead and stepped back, reclaiming her hand in his. "Come on, I'll take you back to my place. You can warm up, it's freezing out here."

Alexis followed him unquestioningly. The only thing she found odd about the situation was that he had changed his tune so quickly, but then again, so had she, after the fire. She believed him capable of that change as well. Her face flushed red as he kissed her forehead. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since the night of the fire.

Harry walked quickly, pulling her behind him, his hand gripped tightly around hers. He kept glancing back at her, that same silly smile on his face, the same glassy look in his eyes.

They arrived at Harry's house quickly and entered. He let her enter the house first and lingered behind her, his hands never too far from her body. He slipped her coat off her shoulders slowly and dropped it on the floor by the door. His hand on the small of her back guided her in the rest of the way.

He glanced briefly around the living room before returning his gaze to Alexis. Even in the full light his eyes could not distinguish between the 17 year old blonde girl in front of him, and the blond man that frequented his dreams. "I'm sorry it's such a sty in here. I've been a real mess without you here." His voice was honest and slightly bashful.

He still stood behind her and rubbed his hands down her upper arms. She had her arms wrapped around her own waist. She was cold and Harry was making her very uncomfortable.

"What do you mean, Harry? I saw you yesterday." She tried to pull away from him.

"I know it feels that way, Draco. I dream about you too. Every night. I can't seem to get rid of you." He chucked and wrapped his arms around Alexis' shoulders, kissing the side of her neck. She shivered.

Having seen Harry's violence just the previous day, Alexis did not want to test his reserve. She was beginning to think that he was having a waking hallucination. He thought she was someone else, this Draco person.

"Harry, I'm not who-"

"I know we're no good for each other, we never have been." He laughed again. He spun Alexis to face him and stared into her eyes. He only saw the stormy grey eyes, transposed in front of hers. He began to push her backwards towards the couch. His grip was tight on her arms and she couldn't think of any way to stop him. "I would have come back to you. I got closer to leaving this place every day. I couldn't live without you." The back of Alexis' knees hit the couch and with a gentle shove from Harry, she fell backwards on it.

He pushed his dripping hair back from his face and stared down at her. She needed to get his attention. He peeled his sopping shirt off and tossed it to the floor beside them.

He climbed on top of her, straddling her waist, his hands holding her hands above her head. She tried to squirm out from under him, but he had her pinned tightly. She would never be able to overpower him. "Harry, stop." She said firmly. "I'm not who you think I am, I'm-"

Harry shifted his grip and managed to hold both her arms with one hand. His other hand pressed over her mouth, silencing her gently. "I don't care, Draco. I love you." He leaned down and covered her mouth with his, gently bringing their lips together.

"No!" She squirmed under his body, but it only seemed to encourage him.

"We have so much lost time to make up for, Draco. Tonight, you belong to me." He moved the kisses down her neck, moving the collar of her shirt so he could access her collar bones, nipping lightly with his teeth.

"Stop it! Harry!" She cried frantically, but couldn't do anything to stop him. He was too heavy. "Snap out of it! I'm not Draco! I'm Alexis, the girl you saved from the fire! Please, let me go!" Her voice cracked as she pleaded with him.

Harry was not aware of anything going on around him. He continued forcing himself upon her. His hand moved lower, lifting up the hem of her shirt and caressing the soft skin of her belly. He moved his hand to his own pants, undoing the fly.

Having exhausted all her other options, Alexis felt she had no other choice. Still squirming under the raven haired man, she took a deep breath and screamed louder than she ever had before.

The scream pierced through Harry like a hot dagger. He immediately stopped his movements and she continued to scream. He snapped his gaze to meet hers, the grey eyes shifting in and out of focus. They disappeared, leaving only the frightened blue eyes of a terrified teenage girl.

The door of his house burst open, four large men running in. They had obviously heard the scream and come running.

Harry looked up at the door and looked back down at the young girl beneath him. "Fuck." He mumbled under his breath. The sensitivity and emotion retreated to the back of his mind and was replaced by his cool mask.

The men each held a weapon in their hand, they had been expecting a confrontation. They had been looking for him. He slowly stood from the couch, turning to face the men. "Get the fuck away from her, Evans!" The man Harry recognized as Keith shouted.

Harry snorted bitterly. These men were no threat to him. His hand went to his hip, and upon contact, the silver magnum ay his side revealed itself. He pulled it slowly out of the holster and pointed it at the group.

All four men blinked in astonishment. None wanted to believe that they had just seen the gun appear out of thin air, but that was what just happened. They all took a step back.

Alexis sat up on the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. She had seen the gun appear as well, and her confused gaze travelled back and forth between the gun in Harry's hand and the holster at his waist which still held two large knives. They had not been there before, she was sure of it.

The expression on Harry's face was changing so rapidly that it was impossible to put a label on it. "Everyone just back off." Harry warned.

"That piece of tin even work, Damien." Keith taunted, motioning to Harry's gun. "Just let the girl go, and we won't be forced to do anything drastic." He grinned.

Harry's hand moved to his holster again, and without so much as a blink or a breath, one of the knives was pulled and flung out of Harry's hand and flying towards the arrogant man. The blade grazed his ear before sinking into the drywall behind him. Keith stood in shock, unable to move or speak. Harry strode up to him, their faces mere inches apart. His other hand was held straight out to the side, his gun still pointing at the rest of the group. "I've killed far too many truly evil people, Keith, to waste a knife on a blithering coward like you." Harry smirked and backed off. "Anyone else?" He stared down the other men, daring them to try anything. They all stood stock stiff. "Good."

Still holding the gun in front of him, Harry continued to back away. "Animate." He cooly spoke. He let go of the gun as be backed away, but it did not fall to the floor. It hung suspended in mid-air as though carried by invisible cables. The weapon twitched slightly, as though it were keeping an eye on the people it's master had tasked it to watch.

Harry turned away from the group and picked up his shirt from the floor, wrenching it over his head. He was fully aware that the men were staring at his scars in horror, still too terrified and perplexed by the floating, animated gun to move. He strode quickly towards his room, reaching out behind him.

A scraping sound came from near the group and they all turned to see the knife wiggling itself out of the wall. It flew straight into Harry's waiting hand, where he put it back in the holster forcefully. He disappeared into his room and the men visibly relaxed.

Alexis swivelled her gaze back and forth between the men and Harry and after a moment of indecision, hastily followed Harry into his room. He was scrambling around the room, clutching his forehead every now and again. He was pulling on what Alexis could only assume was leather clothing. The sword was now strapped to his hip as well, though she could not recall him picking it up from the coffee table.

"Haven't you caused enough trouble yet?" Harry spat at her as he noticed her lurking in the doorway. "What can you possibly want?" He pulled on his black trench coat and waited expectantly for her to answer. When she didn't say anything he continued, walking towards the door.

She stopped him by placing her hand on his chest. He stared blankly forwards, refusing to meet her gaze. "Stop." She whispered. "I just... I need to understand you. I need to know why you left your home, why your memories still haunt you."

"So would I." Harry snorted.

Alexis was getting frustrated, her brow furrowed. "I see so much of myself in you, that same pain that nobody else seems to understand. But in you, there's something deeper and darker... something broken and I-"

Harry slowly turned his head and connected his cold, green gaze with hers. The intensity of his stare shut her up. She tried to avert her eyes but he grabbed her chin in his hand and kept their eyes locked. "You want to understand me?!" She tried to turn her gaze away without turning her head. "Look at me!"

As soon as their eyes locked again, Alexis was flooded with images. The images were horrible and gruesome, visions of the worst and best memories of Harry's life. They bombarded her so quickly that it seemed impossible that she would understand any of it. She understood it all, every last image. They painted a terrifying story of a boy's lost childhood and his twisted way of trying to put it right again. She gasped, she could hardly catch her breath. Harry's grip loosened and his hand fell.

She didn't avert her gaze, she couldn't now. Such sadness filled her for the young man in front of her, charged with an impossible task. She understood now, what his eyes held hidden away, what she couldn't identify before. Harry's eyes held the cold, dark stare of death. He was the living embodiment of death, one who had experienced its cold grip one too many times.

"Go..." She whispered. "Do what you have to do... no, do what you feel is right..." Her breath hitched. "Good luck." She stepped back from him and brought her hand up to her mouth, gnawing on her fingernails to keep from bursting into tears.

Without a word, Harry brushed past her, his black cloak flowing out behind him like a deadly shadow. He snatched the gun from the air as he strode out of the house for the last time. The crowd of men was too petrified of the mysterious man walking past them to utter a single word.

He wandered out into the dark, wet street and was met by Lorri. She stared in awe at what her former charge had transformed into. Harry did not even acknowledge her as he seemingly glided past, his black armour blending into the night and the metal of the sword glinting in the streetlights.

Lorri watched, her hand covering her mouth as the black figure of death disappeared with a resounding 'crack'.