Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm really finding it hard to have time to right, I apologize for the wait. As for the spy: it wasn't supposed to be a great secret; I made it obvious for a reason. And a Death Eater divulges information, what you guys think about Voldemort's plans?
S/N 2: Well, someone very important dies, which kick-starts Harry into action. As such, this story will only go on for another week to two weeks, which is going to be about five or six chapters. The end is near, that is for sure. I always envisioned this person dying, in fact, he was the one I knew from the start that would die. I feel bad, too, because I love his/her character, but it had to be done.
Chapter 30: The Death of a Friend
The holidays came and went, and a week after Christmas, the Order of the Phoenix was meeting once again, refreshed and renewed by the short break. Harry was sixth to arrive, as Cedric, Hermione, Sirius, Bill and Fred Weasley were already present when he walked down the basement stairs. They all said their greetings to each other, and waited patiently for the rest of the Order to appear; Sirius was writing something down on a piece of parchment, and Harry was enjoying a nice cup of tea that Dobby had just brought down for the meeting.
"Hey, Hermione, what was it that you wanted to tell me about? You remember, that day in the Ministry when you said you would tell me in private?" Harry asked, putting his teacup down on the table.
Hermione got up and moved to the seat across from him, looking around the rest of the table; her friends were the only ones there, so she had no problem revealing what it was she was about to say. "I…I left the Ministry for another position." She said, looking inquisitively at Harry's reaction. "I took the Transfiguration teaching job that Minerva offered me. You know, since she had to take over for Dumbledore and all."
"That's great!" Harry smiled enthusiastically, happy for her. "Is that why you were nervous that day? You're afraid that I'm going to say we need you too much in the Ministry, right?"
"Yeah." Hermione nodded with a small frown.
"Nonsense." Harry waved his hands to articulate his point. "We have Bode, Podmore, Kingsley, Tonks, myself, and even Tynan Davis there, don't worry about it; we have more than enough information." He said, then, realizing how that came out, he continued. "That's not to say that your Intel wasn't necessary, it was, but I'm confident we can make do without it."
"Thanks Harry." Hermione sighed, and then to lighten the mood, she said, "Have you thought about teaching? I'm sure there are countless of charms in that mind of yours that you could teach to the students of Hogwarts."
"Well," Harry replied, tapping his chin. "The charms I've invented aren't student friendly, or even safe," He laughed, "Plus, Flitwick will be there for another twenty years before he retires, so teaching really isn't an option for me right now. But if the Charms position or the Ravenclaw Head of House ever opens up, I'd be interested, sure. Anyway, Hogwarts reopens in a week, right? I'm glad, that school should never shut down ever again."
Just then, Kylie and Snape both tramped down into the basement; Snape's scowl was showing double its normal disdain, so Harry immediately knew something was wrong. "We have some bad news, Harry." Kylie said, jumping down the stairs two at a time. "Voldemort spoke today about your supposed search for Dumbledore's long lost brother." Kylie continued, uneasily, as he looked at Harry. Next to him, with his face sallow as ever, Severus Snape nodded in agreement, seemingly unsettled.
Harry gave a small, drawn out sigh, his eyes shifting around the relatively empty room as if searching for something or someone. "Well," He said, quietly, shaking his head slightly. "It looks like we have a traitor in our midst."
"Any idea on who is it?" Kylie questioned, a hint of curiosity and anger in his voice. He had his opinion on who the traitor was, and he could take a guess that Harry had that same idea. The fact that he was risking his life as a spy for the Order, and the Order itself was being spied upon, made him quiver in disgust; he hated the feeling, he hated knowing that the information he was getting was somehow making its way back to the Dark Lord.
Harry bit his lip, his gaze on the far wall; it was locked in a green, steely resolve that would put fear in most wizards and witches. "Yes." He replied, simply.
The rest of the Order came soon after that, and the meeting went without a hitch. Harry had studied who he thought the spy was the whole meeting, and was quite impressed with the person's ability to acquire information without anyone realizing they were divulging the information; the person studied reactions, studied the people around him to gain information that the Dark Lord could use. Harry had never noticed it before because he had given this person a chance to prove himself, and because he never divulged too much information to warrant such suspicion—he kept the secrets and important stuff to himself and his closest circle of friends. He didn't hide secrets to the extent that Dumbledore had done while he was alive, but he did know what to tell and who to tell it to.
"Harry?" Kylie said, tentatively, not wanting to disturb the man after the meeting had finished. It seemed as if Harry was in a distant world, a dimension of thoughts and imagination, whose only boundaries were the human mind.
"Yeah?" Harry questioned back, looking up at his friend.
"We're moving Tracey into Grimmauld Place today, remember?" Kylie told him, thinking correctly that it had slipped his mind.
"Of course," Harry nodded slowly, realizing that he had forgotten all about it. He gathered his things and shuffled out of the room with Kylie, and for the next few hours, made sure Tracey moved into Sirius' house without any problems. She would be living on the top floor, next to Sirius and above the Tonks', in a room that had previously been used for guests when Sirius was a child. He had spruced it up, making sure that it was a lot more friendly and accommodating than how his mother had decorated it over forty years ago: light colors and a lot of sunlight, instead of dark and dreary.
At the Order meeting the next day, Harry sat in his chair at the head of the table; his green eyes roamed over the unoccupied seats at the table. His mind wandered to his lasting search for the Horcruxes: he had been up late last night, searching for a hint of where one was, but he had come up with nothing. He shook those thoughts out of his head, he needed to focus on confronting the traitor: he would do it during the meeting.
He could hear the front door opening up above him, signifying that the rest of the Order was arriving for the meeting. Tynan Davis had just walked into the house as his sister, Tracey, came running down the stairs to grab something to eat. "Tracey!" Tynan gasped, confusedly; then, after a second, his features turned into an ugly scowl. "What are you doing here?" He asked with an angry hiss that seemed to spew venom.
"Tynan?" Tracey said in a slight lisp, somewhat fearfully. The front door opened up behind Tynan, and Despereaux walked in, his eyes immediately falling onto Tracey. She was a short and thin woman, with short black and brown-mixed hair and kind brown eyes.
"Am I interrupting something?" Despereaux asked, feeling as if a conversation was interrupted with his entering the house.
"No," Tracey responded, moving her gaze over to Despereaux; their eyes locked with one another and she gave a small smile that made Despereaux smile in return. "I am Tracey Davis."
"Charmed to meet you." Despereaux moved to shake her hand; he could see she was trembling slightly, scared of something. "I'm Despereaux Barnaud."
"How cute." Tynan growled, stepping in front of Despereaux, preventing him from seeing Tracey any further. "Tracey, we'll talk about this later, but we have a meeting to get to, don't we, Despereaux?"
"Ah, yeah." Despereaux nodded, heading over to the door that led to the basement. They both quietly made their way down the stairs; Despereaux cocked an eyebrow at the angry glances that Tynan was throwing his way, confused by the sudden aggression the man was showing. Sirius greeted them warmly, and gestured to two of the seats in the middle of the table; both of which they respectively took. Three more members took their seats right after that, leaving only a few more open.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, tiredly, as his eyes zeroed in on the traitor. He gave the man a small smile, not wanting to arouse any sort of suspicion. After a few more minutes of silence, and the last of the Order members appearing, Harry rose from his seat; he was holding his wand beneath his royal blue sweatshirt, hiding it from view. "Welcome," He said, his voice carrying around the room: it was hard and loud, unlike his normal tone. "All of you. As you know, the Order of Phoenix is based around trust and courage; we fight so other people don't have to. We make sure that our lives are filled with peace and light, not darkness and decay like the lives of the Death Eaters."
He started to pace around the table, before stopping next to Sirius. "Guard the fireplace." He whispered into his godfather's ear. Nodding, Sirius arose from his chair, and marched over to the fireplace in the corner, standing in front of it threateningly with his wand at the ready. Coming up to Bill Weasley, Harry then whispered, "Guard the door." Again, like Sirius, Bill walked over to the door that led to the upstairs and stood in front of it. By this time, the other members looked around at what was happening, their expressions curious and some were even fearful. Finally, coming to Cedric, Harry murmured, "Double the disapparation protection."
Cedric bounced up from his seat, whipped out his wand and said, "Nullevanesco!" And, like a rush of wind, a heat haze ran around the room, preventing anybody from disapparating within the room.
"But," Harry continued, "What happens when that trust is broken? When we have a traitor in the group? A rat." He sneered, his eyes swiveling all about, circling the members sitting in their chairs. There was an audible gasp, and the members started to stare at each other, questioningly, wondering who it was; panic immediately set in, and they all began to suspect one another, eying the people sitting next to them. "I gave this man the benefit of the doubt, I gave him a chance to prove that he wasn't the person his sister said he was."
Instantly, Tynan Davis jumped up from his chair, yanked his wand from his robes, and inched back towards the wall; his eyes open and alert. Quickly, he spied the door: blocked. Then his gaze went over to the fireplace: guarded. And, having heard the anti-apparation jinx, he knew he couldn't apparate away. Just as the others were reacting, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a quill. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Sprung," and just as the portkey was being activated, it was summoned out of his hands by Harry, who ducked as it whizzed towards him, not wanting to go wherever it was going to go to. "You mudblooded cretin!" He screamed, throwing a killing curse at Harry; who dodged, and watched as the man was hit with no less than three stunners. His body fell to the floor with a thump, unconscious, being hovered above by members of the Order.
"Wow, I did not see that coming." George Weasley muttered in a hushed tone. It was impossible to tell if he was serious or just bringing some comedy to the situation. "I thought he was an okay bloke."
"I didn't think he'd attempt to kill you, Harry." Kylie said, shaking his head. He had figured that Tynan would see he was out numbered and just give up, he never expected what had actually happened.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, shrugging. "I doubt he actually wanted anyone dead; if he did, he would have went after the people who were closest to him, rather than me." He bent down and picked up Tynan's wand, examining it. It was an average oak wand that seemed to not have performed any great types of magic: just like Tynan, an average wizard, but a superb actor and liar. "You all can go. I'll bring Tynan to the Ministry for trial myself."
Most of the members nodded and filed out—a look of complete bewilderment was on their features, and they appeared as if they had questions that they wanted to ask but didn't know how to ask them. Harry waited until they all left, and when it was just Sirius and him still in the room, he swished his wand over Tynan's body, tying him up, and then rennervated him back to consciousness. The wizard groggily opened his eyes, and after giving the room a quick once over, he turned his gaze to Harry. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
"I'm not going to talk." Tynan responded, though it wasn't in a bitter or angry tone. He was calm and collected, as if he had been prepared for this for a long time.
"Its okay," Harry said with a shrug, looking over to Sirius and giving out a small laugh. "You don't need to." His green gaze made contact with Tynan's eyes, and he immediately entered the man's mind: images popped into Harry's head, memories of a life that wasn't Harry's. But then, suddenly, he was pushed out, rather harshly, Tynan clearly having some knowledge of the mind arts. "Who taught you occlumency?" Harry questioned, interestedly, wondering how the mediocre wizard was able to learn such powerful and relatively unknown magic.
"Bellatrix Lestrange." Tynan answered as a bead of sweat rushed off of his brow. He had struggled to force Harry out, really only having passive occlumency skills that could get him by normal conversations, not brutal interrogations.
"Figures." Harry muttered, looking over to Sirius who growled a bit at the mentioning of Bellatrix's name. He still had not gotten over the fact that the witch had tortured Regulus, had hurt his brother like she did. Regulus' portrait rarely talked about it, but Sirius knew that it had put him in a lot more pain than he made it out to be. "Well, unfortunately for you, Tynan, she only taught you how to force less powerful wizards out of your mind, and didn't bother teaching you how to lie with your thoughts: I'm more powerful and you won't be able to lie to me, so that's really too bad for you."
Harry again made eye contact, and quickly subdued Tynan's attempts to force him out. Memories flooded Harry's mind, and after searching through some of them and seeing nothing, he pulled out. "What is it?" Sirius questioned, wondering what had happened.
"He knows nothing." Harry sighed, clearly disappointed. He had hoped to gain a piece of Voldemort's plans, what it was that he was up to and what he was planning for the future, but unfortunately, Tynan had no information for him. "Voldemort didn't tell him anything; instead, all he did was report what he found out about the Order."
"No!" Tynan yelled. "I was important. He promised to tell me everything when you were gone and purebloods ruled."
"That's what he tells everybody." Sirius murmured, disinterestedly.
"I know that, you fool, but I was special. He would have told me sooner or later." Tynan said, believing that it was true.
Harry shook his head, picked up a butterbeer cap that was on the table to his left and grabbed his wand. He whispered "Portus," and turned the cap into a portkey that would take him and Tynan to the Ministry. "Lets go." After placing his hand on the back of Tynan's clothes, they disappeared with a pull behind their naval. Once they left, Sirius turned and walked up stairs, wondering what everyone else was doing.
Draco Malfoy woke up at nine o'clock on the morning of December the 30th. He took a shower, got dressed and ready for the day, and then went down stairs to make himself a breakfast. After reading the paper, eating some eggs, and drinking some orange juice, he looked down at his watch and sighed. Rising from his wicker chair, he threw on a cloak and apparated out, appearing in Diagon Alley almost instantly. His cold gray eyes roamed over the patrons, searching, looking for something or someone. There has to be someone, some Order member around here, he thought to himself, his eyes frantically moving over the Alley. They stopped and narrowed on a witch, one that he thought he recognized as his cousin, Nymphadora.
He paced slowly towards her; he could see that her wand was held tightly under her robes as she stood guard, clearly doing her duties as an Auror. He got within ten feet of her before she finally saw him, her eyes going wide with shock. He put up his hands, showing that his wand was not at the ready and that he just wanted to talk to her. "You dare come here, Malfoy? I could have you sent to Azkaban."
"Please, hear me out. I'm begging you. I need Potter…I need to talk to him." Draco pleaded, his voice crackling.
Nymphadora played with her wedding ring that was on her hand, twisting it slowly as she stared Draco down. She noticed that another Auror named Proudfoot was looking towards her like he thought something was up, but she shook her head to him, and he gave a curt nod and walked the other way. A few more seconds passed before Harry appeared behind Malfoy; he was wearing his crimson Hitwizard robes, clearly having been on duty before he arrived. "What is it, Nymphie?" Harry questioned, not seeing Draco.
"Potter." Malfoy said, turning around and facing Harry.
Harry's eyes widened for a second, but he did not react other than that. He shifted his gaze back to Nymphadora for a moment, and she just shrugged in response, having nothing to say. "Draco, what are you doing here?' Harry asked, evenly, showing no emotion whatsoever.
"I need your help." Draco replied, eagerly. "The Dark Lord is coming after me. I need the protection that…your people," Draco sneered, although he tried to mask it, knowing that it wouldn't help his cause. "Can give me."
Harry nodded and bit his lip, inwardly giddy at the prospect of gaining more information about Voldemort's actions. He knew that Draco would have some knowledge in his brain, and would be more than willing to make a deal with the Order. Nymphadora had a skeptical look on her heart-shaped face, but she stayed silent, knowing that Harry would do what was best for both the Order and the wizarding world as a whole. He took out his wand and gave it a swish, a silver stag appearing briefly before disappearing away.
"Harry? Are you sure about this?" Tonks questioned, taking a step towards her husband.
"I know what I'm doing, Nymphadora." Harry whispered, kissing her on the side of the head. He could see she was both worried and angered by even the thought of helping out Draco Malfoy, her cousin, but he saw no other option. They couldn't just let him die, could they? And if they did do that, how would that make them any better than the Death Eaters that they were fighting against? There was a difference between killing during a battle and cold-blooded murder, and Harry wasn't about to cross that line.
Sirius arrived with a pop a minute later, his eyes locking immediately on Malfoy. "Are we positive this will help us?" Sirius questioned Harry, quietly, as Draco looked on with his silvery gaze.
"I have a plan." Harry nodded, knowing that this would be their best option to learn more about Voldemort. Tynan Davis had told them nothing, and they were beginning to worry about the Dark Lord's lack of action that had overcome the country lately. Sirius reached into his pocket and took out a piece of parchment with the location of the head quarters written on the middle of it. He handed it over to Harry, and Harry looked over to Draco. "Remember this location, Malfoy."
Malfoy looked down at the parchment that Harry was holding, reading the location and memorizing it. After about a minute, Harry took it away and gave it back to Sirius, who promptly destroyed it by fire. Harry then grabbed Draco's cloak and disapparated them both away, Sirius following right behind him.
They arrived outside of Grimmauld Place, Malfoy ripping his arm from Harry's grasp when his feet were firmly planted on the ground. "Don't touch me, Potter." He spat at Harry, making the other wizard just roll his eyes.
Sirius growled and grabbed at his wand. "I will have you gift wrapped and sent to the Ministry quicker than you could say Merlin, Malfoy, so watch your tongue." They all entered the house, Sirius locking the door after it closed with a swish of his wand.
Harry led the way downstairs, where a group of Order members were eating lunch and having a spot of tea. Many of the members who worked at the Ministry would come by Grimmauld place for lunch, where Dobby always made a delicious meal. They all gasped when they saw Malfoy, their eyes wide with shock and confusion. "What the…?" Kingsley Shacklebolt gasped, putting his sandwich back down on his plate.
"What is Malfoy doing here?" Kylie asked, his voice uneasy. The palm of his hand began to get sweaty, and his throat was all the sudden dry, nerves undeniably overtaking him. He did not know why Malfoy was here or what the man would say, but for some reason, he couldn't help but be nervous by his presence. He took a deep breath to get a hold of himself, realizing that he had nothing to hide and Malfoy posed no real threat to the safety and sanctity of the Order of the Phoenix.
"Apparently, Draco wants to bargain with us." Harry said, taking his seat at the head of the table.
"Bargain?" Bill Weasley sneered, his eyes zeroing on Malfoy. "I say we throw him to the wolves of Azkaban, I'm sure they're hungry for him."
"I concur." Shacklebolt agreed, wiping his hands and mouth with his napkin.
"No, don't….I have information." Malfoy said gruffly, hoping they were just playing with him, having a laugh at his expense.
"You know nothing, Draco." Roger mocked, knowing that the only way to get real information out of Malfoy was to make him believe they didn't care about his well-being.
"Harry," Shacklebolt began, looking over to the wizard. "Take him to Azkaban for holding. I'll make sure that the Wizengamot is in to try him for his crimes."
"Please, I'll tell you anything you want. You want names? I got names: there's Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Stephen Cornfoot, Marcus Flint." Draco all but yelled, and then upon seeing their unimpressed faces, continued on with his naming of Death Eaters. "Not good enough? There's also Cade Warrington, Graham Montague, and Theodore Nott."
"You're just naming your Hogwarts friends, Malfoy. You're telling us nothing." Kylie hissed with venom, clearly not amused. He rolled his eyes underneath his hood at the names, a feeling of disgust bubbling inside of him: he knew Draco would name him sooner or later.
"No, no, Pansy Parkinson is one, too." Draco begged, realizing that he was running out of names. His eyes wiped around the room, looking at everyone that was staring right back at him. "You want the Dark Lord's plans? I know what his intentions are, what his Death Eaters are doing for him right as we speak." Draco could tell, this time, that he had struck gold.
"Indeed, then, let's hear it, Draco." Harry said in a calm tone, though one could tell that he was masking his delight.
"First, you have to promise me and my family sanctuary." Draco bargained, knowing that he finally had a piece of information that they would be able to use.
"That will be arranged, Draco." Harry replied, again in a calm tone.
"Second, if and when this is over, the Malfoy name will not be brought about in any Ministry talk; we will not be tried for being Death Eaters."
"Understood." Harry nodded, taking a mental note of Draco's request. "The information now, Draco."
"He's after Hogwarts." Draco muttered, almost flippantly, as if he didn't really care since he had already gotten what he wanted and needed. "He's sent out all of his high-level Death Eaters for a specific reason that will help him capture the school. Peter Pettigrew was sent out a month ago to infiltrate the school and find out all that he could about the wards surrounding the grounds. Macnair has been gathering dark creatures for the attack, and will be leading them through the Forbidden Forest. And to top it all off, the reason why the Dark Lord is after the Elder wand is so he can destroy the gates of Hogwarts with it: he thinks that wand alone would give him the ability and powers to overcome the Founders' magicks."
"When is this going to happen?" Roger questioned, horrorstruck by the thought of Hogwarts being attacked…again.
"The only ones that know that information are the Dark Lord himself, Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch, and Quirrell." Draco replied, holding himself proudly. "He hasn't even told my father when the date is."
"Is that it?" Harry asked, evenly.
Draco looked around at everybody, and with cold gray eyes gave a nod, "Yes."
"Very well," Harry said, squinting a bit at Draco. "Roger, could you take Draco out of the room while we deliberate about this unexpected event?"
"Of course." Roger grunted, then whistled for Draco to follow. They went up the stairs and entered the kitchen, Roger taking a seat at the small table while Draco leaned against the far wall, next to the oven. They silently waited for Harry to call them back, both not even looking at the other: when Roger and Draco were in Hogwarts, Malfoy had hated Roger just because of his association with Harry.
"YOU! You have some nerve showing your face around me." Lilyre Moon yelled, running into the room from the foyer. He tackled Draco down to the ground, curled his fist up and slugged Malfoy straight in the chin. Emotion was pouring out of him, both rage and pain coming to the surface, bottled up feelings rising to the top.
"He's not worth it, Lilyre. Don't lower yourself to his level, show Malfoy that you're better than him." Wayne Hopkins said as he ran in the room from where Lilyre just was. Roger, meanwhile, gave a smile at the sight, enjoying the fact that Malfoy was getting what had been coming for him for the his past mistakes.
"You're right," Lilyre said, spitting down at the floor, though it did not touch Draco's body. "He can live in the misery of being a two-bit wizard with no real skill to speak of."
Just then, Severus Snape rushed into the kitchen, his eyes immediately falling upon Draco. "Come, Draco." Snape said, bitterly. Draco cocked an eyebrow at Snape, but followed him silently as they walked back down to the meeting room. "Potter, explain." Snape snapped, forcing Harry to turn his attention to the potions master.
"What is there to explain, Severus?" Harry questioned, easily. "Draco came to us this morning asking for help; we offered to help him in exchange for some information."
"Is this true, Draco?" Snape asked, looking at the blond-haired man. Malfoy nodded his head slightly, and Snape growled. "What did you tell them?"
"He told us what Voldemort plans on doing, isn't that right, Draco?" Harry replied, a broad smile rising upon his face.
"I told them what I needed to in order to secure my safety, Severus." Draco muttered, seeing the scowl that was on Snape's face. "You would do the same, would you not?"
Snape stared at Draco, and Malfoy immediately regretted what he had said. Would Snape kill him in the name of the Dark Lord? Snape was, after all in the opinion of Malfoy, a loyal Death Eater. "I hope the information was worth it, Potter." Snape said, giving Harry a slight and unnoticeable nod that only Harry could see. Then, turning around, he left up the stairs with a confused Draco Malfoy walking in his wake.
"Do we trust what Malfoy said?" Kingsley questioned the group.
"We really have no other options." Bill Weasley answered, looking over at Harry who was staring at the far wall in thought. The group disbanded an hour later, all retreating to their homes for a nice, peaceful dinner with their families. Draco, meanwhile, stayed with Snape at Spinner's End, hiding out there while other arrangements were made by the Order of the Phoenix.
Later that night, Harry threw the book he was reading, it was old and dingy with yellowed pages, against the wall: it slammed against it and slipped down to the ground, sprawled open. Angrily, he pushed everything on his desk to the floor, sighing afterwards, and then threw his head into his arms. He had been spending hours, days trying to find information on Rowena Ravenclaw's tiara, but the books he read only gave a passing mention of it. They didn't show pictures or even tell of its history, what it was, where she got it, those kinds of things. He closed his eyes, trying to think, his mind racing, a headache starting to form. "Ravenclaw common room." He whispered, falling asleep with his head on the desk.
Harry walked through the halls of Hogwarts the next day, his destination being the Ravenclaw tower. He smiled, remembering his days as Hogwarts, how many times he had walked into the Ravenclaw common room after a long, hard day of classes. How many times had he walked in late a night from rounds, with the common room deserted, and just watched the fire burn till the wee hours of the morning. He came to a spiral staircase, and he climbed up it, in tight, dizzying circles, until at last he reached a door. There was no handle and no keyhole: nothing but a plain brown expanse of aged wood, and an eagle-shaped bronze knocker that hung in the center of the door.
He usually didn't come this way, having found another way into the common room during his fourth year: it was a doorway behind a bookshelf on the fourth floor, hidden in a small, shadowy hallway. The idea of the hidden entryway was the basis for the spells and wards he had put on his hidden workshop, blocked from view by a bookcase, with the key being a book. To get into the common room through the secret passage, all you had to was pull on the 'Hogwarts, A History' tome, and the bookshelf would sink into the ground, opening up a small walkway on the steps leading up to the boy's dormitory. It was much quicker than using the main entrance, and certainly unknown, with Harry and Roger being the only ones who knew about it. Unknown that it was, it wasn't even on the Marauder's Map, which had almost every other secret passage and entranceway in all of Hogwarts.
Harry reached out his hand to the knocker, and knocked once, taking a step back and looking up to the eagle, expectantly. Then, at once, the beak of the eagle opened, and, instead of a bird's call, a soft, musical voice said, as if she was singing, "Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?"
Harry grinned, having gotten this question once before, long ago, during his second year. It had taken nearly ten minutes of thinking, and a whole line of kids wanting to get in behind him to figure it out, but he got it right on the first try. In fact, so engulfed was he to answer it that he refused the older students to answer for him, instead making them wait behind him, impatiently. "The circle has no beginning, it just exists."
"Well reasoned." The voice answered, the door swinging open as a result. In he stepped, his smile from before gone, and in its place were furrowed brows and pursed lips. His green eyes were locked in a steely, concentrated gaze that shifted around the room, searching for the artifact of his desires.
The Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, airier than most rooms at Hogwarts. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue-and-bronze silks: by day, the Ravenclaws had a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains and by night, they had a beautiful view of the moon. The ceiling was a dome and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble: Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the founders of Hogwarts.
He stared up at the marble woman, and she seemed to look back at him with a curious gaze and half smile on her face, beautiful yet slightly intimidating. On top of her head, a delicate-looking circle made of marble laid, a replica of the diadem she had once worn when she was alive. Teeny, tiny words were etched into it, saying, "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." Looking up at the tiara, at the diadem, staring at it, studying it, something clicked: he had seen it before, the real thing. He closed his eyes, wanting, needing to remember where it was. Was it just memories of seeing the statue when he was in Hogwarts? Was that it? Was that what was causing his nostalgia, his mind telling him that he had seen it before?
With his eyes closed, all he could see was pictures of Nymphadora, which would then flash to pictures of the statue: he was young, the first time seeing the statue as an eleven year old, brand new to Hogwarts and the wizarding world. Then it flashed back to Nymphadora, smiling, grinning, and laughing in all of her beauty. What, what was it telling him? Again the statue, then Nymphadora, back to the statue, a circle of images. Then an image of Nymphadora, beautiful as ever in her wedding dress, on their wedding day, and that's when it hit, the reason why her pretty face was in his mind: the tiara she was wearing at their wedding.
Surely they, the side of light, couldn't be so lucky, could they? Surely he was mistaken; surely it was a replica, not real. But if not, how could he be so dumb, so stupid? Two Horcruxes had been right in front of him this whole time, and he didn't even notice them; like an amateur detective, overlooking the most obvious things, searching for something deeper. He rushed out of the common room, using an exit that he alone had found, out of Hogwarts, past the gates, and apparated away, to Grimmauld place.
He arrived in the apparation point of the house, and rushed to where he heard voices: it was a little after midday, lunchtime. He slipped up the stairs and into Andromeda and Ted's room, quickly rummaging through the closet where he knew the tiara was hidden, locked away from being stolen. After finding it, he nicked it and closed the closet door, holding the diadem tightly in his hands as he ran down the stairs and into the drawing room, where Nymphadora, Andromeda, and Gaetana were sitting down, talking about nothing in particular.
"Harry!" Tonks said, brightly. She looked him over, noticing his curious looking face and the tiara in his hand. "Something wrong?" She questioned, somewhat nervously.
"No," He smiled, and then turned his attention to Andromeda, holding the tiara out in front of her. "When did you get this?" Harry asked with hardness to his voice that Andromeda had never heard before. Usually, his voice was calm and full of love, but it was changed now for some reason. "When was it forged?"
"When I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts." Andromeda answered, hoping to help the wizard any way she could. By the tone of his voice, and the furrow of his brow, she knew it was something serious; something that he had been working on or for. "I don't know when it was made, but Burke said it was pretty old."
"You got it at Borgin and Burkes?" Harry inquired, his green gaze still fixated on the tiara. Riddle worked at Borgin and Burkes after graduating from Hogwarts, Harry reminded himself, that's how he got the cup of Hufflepuff and the locket of Slytherin; perhaps he came across it, did his magic to it, then gave it back to Borgin and Burke, never telling them what it truly was.
"Yes," Andromeda answered, confused. "Why?"
"He put it back into circulation." Harry muttered to himself, a hint of laughter in his tone. He tossed the tiara into the air, sending a blasting curse at it. As he suspected, the tiara was thrown into the wall, where it crashed to the floor, perfectly fine. "Unbreakable. And the magic is almost impossible to detect. Crafty. He thought that it would be safe since it's impossible to destroy, and almost no one knows about Horcruxes, let alone knowing how to tell if an item was one. So if anyone did find out about his secret, this one would be safe; impossible to locate due to it being sold off and taken into the distance."
"What are you talking about, Harry?" Andromeda inquired, confusedly looking at him as if he had two heads.
"This is," Harry said, picking the tiara up and holding it out for her to see. "Rowena Ravenclaw's, and it was once owned by Voldemort, before he gave it back to Borgin and Burke. It holds something; something which is important to him and his power." He flicked his eyes over to Gaetana and Tonks, who were standing behind her mother. "Can I have this?" He questioned to no one in particular, knowing that it was technically his as Nymphadora and him shared everything they owned. He flicked his wand out, wrapping the tiara in a wool cloth. Seeing their nods, he grinned, and turned out of the room, going to his house, his home, intent on finding a way to destroy the Horcrux without destroying the tiara; after all, it was a family heirloom now.
Reaching his library, he pulled on the parseltongue book that would grant him access to his secret room, and entered the workshop. He placed the tiara down on one of the desks, and turned to the small bookshelf that housed his darkest, most powerful, and most ancient tomes that he had gotten from Dumbledore, bought from different shops around the world, or stolen from various dark wizards. One interested him the most on this day, however: it was a potion book written completely in parseltongue that had potions that could peel back layers of magic on an item. He never used it before, and doubted it would work, but it was worth a shot. The magic was incredibly difficult, the ingredients were amazingly rare, and the spells were unbelievably hard, but he knew if he tried, he could go through with it and perhaps save a priceless artifact from certain destruction just as what had befallen Slytherin's locket.
He flipped through the pages, scrutinizing the small, black writing that seemed as if it was gibberish with its hisses and grunts. Then, coming to the potion that he was searching for, he flicked on all the lights, wanting and needing to see it properly. "Basilisk venom!" He yelled out, shocked at the absurdity of the ingredients. "How in the name of Merlin am I going to get that? Wait, no, I could use Acromantula venom, too. But how…the Forbidden Forest! There were rumors that a colony of them lived there." He said, out loud, talking to himself. Then, running his finger down the rest of the page, he checked off everything that he would need, having no doubt that he could get the rest.
Leaving his house, he apparated away to a spot next to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Pulling his cloak closer to him, he tried to keep the cold, crisp winter air from chilling him as he walked towards the gates of Hogwarts. He neared the metal gates, with its two pillars of winged-boars on both sides, guarding the school. He took out his wand, and a silver stag erupted out of its tip, galloping past the gates, heading straight for a hut that was on the edge of school grounds.
A few minutes later, Hagrid came stomping out of his home, a smile on his face, masked by his enormous, brown and gray beard. "Harry!" Hagrid yelled, enthusiastically. The half-giant reached down and opened the gates with his huge hands, allowing Harry access to the grounds. "What brings you back to Hogwarts so quickly? I thought you jus' left."
"Yeah, I did." Harry nodded, disinterestedly. He liked Hagrid, he did, but he had more important things on his mind than idle small talk that Hagrid seemed to love so much. "But I have some business to attend to in the Forbidden Forest."
"Forbidden Forest, you say?" Hagrid replied, uneasily. "I should go with you, Harry; there are dark, dangerous things in that forest, there are."
Harry waved it off, not wanting the man to know what it was that he was doing. "No, Hagrid, I'll be fine, don't worry." He headed towards the forest, but stopped, turning and giving Hagrid a smile. "Thanks, though. I'll see you!"
It was dark. Even with the midday sun beaming above, the high trees of the forest all but shadowed out the light, creating a creepy and cold atmosphere, completely devoid bright sunshine; in turn, at night, the moonlight would be cancelled out, as well. With his wand tip lit, he walked deeper into the woods, his eyes searching, and his ears listening. There was an incredibly loud bark that echoed around the forest, running through the leaves like a spring breeze; almost immediately after, there was an unmistakable noise of trees falling to the ground in the distance, uprooted by some incredibly powerful force. Then, to his side, he saw a unicorn come galloping past, glowing like fresh snow on a winter's day. He watched, fascinated, as the horse-like creature, so beautiful and majestic and pure, streaked passed, it's golden hooves creating a light that even the sun would be hard pressed to match.
Shaking his head, he moved the opposite way of the unicorn, going further into the trees. There was a clicking nose a little ahead of him, and he pointed his wand, hoping to get a better look at what it was. There, twenty feet away, was a big, hairy spider, about the size of a large dog: it was clearly young, as most Acromantulas grew to eight feet. He took a step forward, but out of the darkness came a brilliant silver lynx, appearing from seemingly nowhere. "Harry," Kingsley's voice carried from the lynx's mouth; the beast rushed towards the man, hopping over the Acromantula and stopping right in front of the wizard. "Voldemort's attacking Hogsmeade!"
Through the dense forest, he had not heard the explosions going off in the distance. He turned and quickly sprinted deeper into the forest, his wand at the ready, searching for the point where he could disapparate. After five minutes of further running, he finally reached the boarder of the wards and with a loud crack, he disappeared from the forest.
Harry arrived just as Aurors and Hitwizards did; the Order of Phoenix was seemingly the only ones fighting back against the Death Eaters, as many of the residents of Hogsmeade were running for their lives.
Neville Longbottom arrived at the same time as Harry. He scanned the battlefield for a second before seeing a wizard fall to a Death Eater by a jet of yellow light, and he ran that way, ready to fight the Death Eater. He threw a curse at the dark wizard's body, and in response, the wizard dodged and tilted his head at Neville. "I won't fight you, Longbottom." He said through his mask. Then, with a swish of his black robes, he disapparated away, leaving Neville confused once again as he recognized that voice as Rabastan Lestrange.
Harry, meanwhile, had immediately made his presence known by throwing a powerful hex towards a group of Death Eaters. They all seemed to have been stricken with vertigo, as they stumbled forward, their heads bobbling on their shoulders. "Retreat!" A voice called out through the darkness, enhanced by magic: the Death Eaters were becoming overwhelmed, their number advantage steadily dwindling when the townspeople of Hogsmeade had started to come out of their homes and fight back.
Most of the Death Eaters disapparated, not wanting to be caught—though the more powerful ones stayed, unable or unwilling to retreat. One such Death Eater, Augustus Rookwood, was dueling Roger, his attacks missing the wizard by mere feet. Roger sent a blasting hex at the Death Eater, then rolled off to the side and sent another hex at the wizard; it sailed above Rookwood's head, missing him by sheer inches. Not hesitating the least bit, Roger continued his assault, sending out a jinx, followed then by a stunner.
Rookwood ducked under Roger's attack, jabbing his wand out at the same time, releasing a killing curse. The curse lit up the darkened shadowed spot they were dueling at, illuminating the ground with its eerie green light. It soared, swiftly, at the unprepared Roger, descending upon him like some big, angry beast. It neared, now just five feet away. Then it connected with him, hitting him square in the chest, his eyes wide with surprise.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Roger's body arched through the air, his face still handsome as his heart stopped beating. His body landed on the ground with a thud—it was cold, pale, and stiff. Rookwood had a look of glee on his face as he disapparated, giving a mocking wave to the Order members that were running towards him, brandishing their wands in anger. Hermione was the first to his body, as she slid down next to him, hoping, praying that it was all just a joke—that he'd wake up anytime now.
Harry, Cedric, and Viktor all rushed towards Roger, stunning or hurting any Death Eater, any dark wizard that got in their way. Finally, they reached him: Hermione was crying, curled around his sleeping-like form. He was still, his hazel eyes were still open though they lacked the spark of life they normally had. He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't be. He would never see his daughter, his beautiful daughter who wasn't even a year old yet, grow up. He wouldn't see her leave on the Hogwarts express to go to Hogwarts for the very first time. He wouldn't be able to witness her birthdays, her achievements, nor her accomplishments. And she, on the other side of the spectrum, would never know how much her father, her dad, loved her, how much he cared about her. Roger Davies, one of Harry's best friends, one of his closest friends, and his very first friend was dead, gone from this world.
Rage filled Harry: disturbing, undeniable rage. And, looking into the eyes of Viktor and Cedric as they stared down at Roger's cold and lifeless body, he knew they were feeling the same way, thinking the same thing: Rookwood would pay for this with his life. He didn't know when Rookwood would get what was coming to him, but he did have a vague idea on how it would come. It would come slowly and painfully, and Rookwood would scream his throat dry. Oh, how Augustus Rookwood would pay.
Viktor pulled Hermione up off of her feet, wrapping his arms around her, not meeting Roger's body: unable to, for the tears, the pain was welling up inside of him, getting ready to consume him in undeniable grief. Cedric, meanwhile, lifted Roger's body up into his arms and apparated away with it, not wanting his best friend's body to be in the cold snowy mud any longer. Finally, unable to control it, Harry gripped his wand so tightly that his hand turned white, whipped it around, and let out a primal scream of fury, releasing a wave of purple energy that rushed into the air, before exploding outwards like muggle fireworks.
"AH!" He yelled out in intense anger, everyone who had gathered around having their eyes solely on him. He turned around, not wanting people to see him, and then apparated away, his shoulders slumped. His mind couldn't help but think of all the ways that Augustus Rookwood, Death Eater of Voldemort, former high-level Unspeakable for the Ministry, would pay for killing Roger Davies.
AN: Poor Roger, but don't worry, Rookwood should be scared because Harry is coming for him…and he's pissed!
AN: The etymology of the spells in this chapter.
Nullevanesco- it is the anti-disapparation jinx, and prevents anyone from apparating in the radius that it was cast upon. Null means to cancel, and Evanesco is Latin for disappear. I don't remember if I created it, or if someone else did, as I couldn't find it in any of the books.
Sprung- it's initiates a pre-determined and made port-key. Sprung is jump in German.