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: Sorry for the wait, but this is a long chapter, so I think it makes up for it. This semester of law school has been bad to me, but once it ends, I'll be able to focus more on the story. This was tough to write, I have to admit, because there is so much going on: a lot, a lot of plots are being tied together, which is difficult to manage.
S/N 2: Here is a little nugget of information- Harry's wand in this story is ebony, 12 3/4', phoenix feather, limber, good for charm work. I orginally had it as blackthorn, 12.5', phoenix feather, subtle, good for charm work, but changed it.
Chapter 36: Potion of Destruction
Harry Potter rolled over in his bed late in the night, his closed eyes as they moved around their sockets as if he was watching something in his sleep. His mind was locked into a vivid dream and beads of sweat were rushing down his forehead, stopping on his brow as he kicked the covers off of his lower body. Next to him, Nymphadora rolled over onto her side, still deeply asleep, unaware of her husband's actions. After another moment of thrashing, Harry calmed down and his body went unmoving, though sweat was still accumulating on his forehead. While his body was immobile, his mind however was still dreaming a nightmare that was his worst fear, one that would make him rethink his actions in the coming days.
As Harry and other members of the Order were sitting in the basement of Grimmauld Place, a small, silver patronus lynx appeared in front of him. "The Ministry has fallen." The lynx said in Shacklebolt Kingsley's deep, echoic voice. "Bones is dead."
Harry's eyes bulged at the sudden proclamation, a lump immediately appearing in his throat as his stomach turned queasy. "That…that can't be." He said in confusion, having no idea how such a thing could happen. His mind drifted over to Nymphadora, who was still in the Ministry working, and he silently wished that she was safe and all right. "We have to go. The Ministry cannot fall!" He jumped up to his feet, took his wand into his hand, and looked down at everyone that was in the room. "I understand if you don't want to come."
"We're coming." All of them said, as they too got to their feet. With loud pops, they all apparated out of the room, appearing in the atrium of the Ministry just seconds later.
Immediately, they were attacked by a small group of Death Eaters who were guarding the fireplaces. Before any more Death Eaters could come, Harry released a silver curse that exploded outwards with a gunshot-like noise, and the six Death Eaters fell to the ground, unconscious. "Tie them up, and if anyone else comes, stupefy them and snap their wands." Harry ordered, pointing to four Order members. "The rest of you, come with me. I'm sure there are Aurors and Hit Wizards fighting somewhere around here that need our help."
They made their way through the halls of the Ministry, where debris and bodies were thrown about, sprawled across the cold marble floor. Every so often, Death Eaters would creep out of the shadows, but would be quickly subdued by Order members. As they rounded the corner of the hallway that led to the Auror Office, they ran into a large skirmish amongst Death Eaters and Aurors—Harry sighed in relief when he saw that Tonks was still alive and fighting. She had a gash underneath her left eye, but it seemed she was otherwise fine.
The Death Eaters had just noticed them, as well, and half of their numbers turned around and guarded the backs of the other half. "It's a small hallway, Harry." Cedric noted, seeing how the Death Eaters were scrunched in between the two walls.
"I have an idea," Sirius whispered. "Muffliato morsmordre!" He called out, moving his wand in a jerking fashion. An unidentifiable buzzing noise entered the Death Eaters' ears, which not only prevented them from overhearing anything the Order said, but also confused them and made them lose their concentration. "Everyone, throw a stunner on the count of three." Sirius yelled out, making sure that the Aurors on the other side of the hallway had heard him. "One, two, three, stupefy!"
Flashes of red light all left their wands, taking up every walking spot within the hallway, and with a thud, every single Death Eater fell to the ground, unconscious. "Harry!" Tonks screamed, sidestepping the Death Eaters' bodies and running towards her husband, engulfing him in a large hug when she reached him. "They just attacked us, and before we knew it, the entire Ministry was overrun with Death Eaters and Imperiused wizards."
"Where is Voldemort?" Harry questioned with an edge to his voice: he wanted this to be over. He had waited far too long, had let far too many nights pass with Voldemort still alive and capable of spreading his darkness, but it would end that day, one way or another.
"He was heading towards the Minister's Office." An Auror that Harry didn't know said, as others started to bound and gag the Death Eaters.
"Either snap or confiscate their wands." He heard someone else say, though he couldn't place the voice.
Before they knew what was happening, Death Eaters started to appear from nowhere, and a new skirmish began in full. Harry and Nymphadora stayed close to each other, as a group of Order members made their way to the stairwell that would allow them to reach the bottom level of the Ministry, where the Minister's Office was. "The Dark Lord has put a taboo on his name." A Death Eater sneered as he fought an Auror. "We are notified the location of a person even speaking his name, anytime, anywhere."
Meanwhile, on the stairs, Harry and the other members of the Order gasped as they saw that the stairs were clogged with bodies of Ministry Officials, seemingly still alive, but without their souls: they had been kissed by the Dementors. As they reached the level of the Minister's Office, Harry looked back at the other seven people that were with him, giving them a small smile of confidence. Then, turning the doorknob, he entered the hallway that led to the office; his eyes met with two Death Eaters, who stood on opposite sides of the door, guarding the entrance.
He looked down onto the marble tiled floor, and gave a small frown of sorrow as he saw Kingsley's dead body. "I'm sorry, Kingsley." He whispered to himself, as others gasped behind him as they too saw Kingsley's dead form.
"You guys go ahead, we'll take them." Sirius and Remus both said, taking a step forward and holding their wands chest high. The Death Eaters for some reason allowed them to pass and Harry threw open the doors with his wand, finally reaching the Minister's Office, and hopefully, Voldemort.
"Ah, Harry Potter, you have arrived." Voldemort said, silkily, as he leaned against the large oak desk of former Minister Bones. He was wearing a long black robe, but his hood was not up, revealing his bone-white features and scarlet red eyes.
"Everyone leave us." Harry barked, staring at Voldemort with hatred in his green gaze. He had an evil smirk on his snake-like face and his red eyes were showing a rebellious arrogance that made all the members of the Order angry.
"But, Harry, we could help you." Cedric replied slowly, not wanting his dear friend to be murdered just like Kingsley was. He thought that with their combined skills and powers, they would be able to destroy Voldemort, something that no one had been capable of doing alone before.
"No, I can't risk you getting hit in the cross fire. Leave, now!" He ordered, nodding his head to the door. They all looked at Harry cautiously before turning and running towards the door that Harry had gestured to. Voldemort didn't make a move to stop them, knowing that this would be the final battle with the Potter whelp no matter what the outcome was. It was a fight written by the fates; a fight that was started twenty years ago; a fight that would end with one's death.
Harry threw a brilliant violet curse at the Dark Lord, catching him off guard. Voldemort was able to dodge it, however, and banished the desk at Harry. Harry pointed his wand at the desk and it immediately exploded, spraying wooden debris all over the office. Just then, a red curse came whizzing at Voldemort from the doorway, forcing him to summon a metal shield to block it; the curse clanged off of the bronze shield before hitting the wall and fizzling out. Again, another curse came from the door, and then another, and another, and for the first time, Voldemort saw that the other members of the Order didn't leave like he thought they did. Instead, all they had done was close the doors, which prevented any other Death Eater from coming in, and then turned their wands on the Dark Lord, intent on helping Harry defeat Voldemort.
"Quit interfering! You're all so anxious to die, aren't you? Well, all you had to do was ask!" Voldemort screamed, whipping his wand towards them and sending out a sickly yellow beam at them.
Just as the beam made contact with their bodies, Harry's green eyes jerked open, beads of sweat racing down his brow even more so than before. "What was that?" He whispered to himself quietly, not wanting to wake Nymphadora. Harry silently made his way out of the room, heading down to the kitchen, and when he arrived, he made himself a small breakfast and tried to figure out what it was exactly that he had just experienced.
An hour later and with a full stomach, Harry Potter stood in front of the bookshelf that was inside the trunk that Harry had received from Dumbledore. Now that he knew what to look for, Harry noticed that nearly a quarter of the books on the shelf were written by Pyramidas Furmat. He ran his eyes over the bottom shelf of books, and when he saw a book entitled 'Known History of Freyjavangr,' he cocked an eyebrow, but did not think anything of it. He searched for another few moments, but didn't find a book that he wanted and he turned to leave; as he took a step towards the ladder, the pensieve that Dumbledore had left in the trunk caught his eye. He ran his left index finger over the stone basin, feeling the writing that was engraved on it: The Chariot of Light.
"What does that mean?" He asked himself, still trying to figure out the significance of that. He doubted it was just a reminder by Dumbledore that he was fighting the good fight like Sirius had suggested, but he couldn't think of anything else; he couldn't think of anything deeper to it.
He exited the trunk soon later, and after taking a hot shower, he went back to the library and started to peruse the notes that he had taken about the potion during the previous day. They weren't much, just useless ramblings, though a part about mimicking the powers of acromantula did strike him. "You were up early this morning." He heard Tonks voice from the door; he looked up and gave her a smile.
"I couldn't sleep." He replied, hoping not to worry his beautiful wife.
"Is everything okay?" Tonks questioned, wondering if he had had another one of his dreams again.
"Everything's fine." He grinned as he jumped up from the couch and entered his workshop. "I just have a lot of work to do, that's all."
Tonks followed him into the room, and watched as he grabbed a potion book and opened it up on the bench. "Can I help?" She asked, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his stomach.
"Sure," Harry nodded, flipping to the pages until he found the one that he needed.
"Its amazing how you can read this." Tonks whispered, peaking over Harry's shoulder and looking at the scratch that was on the dirtied parchment page of the book he was studying.
Harry didn't look up; instead he continued to read as he said, "Read what?"
"This." She pointed down to the book.
"It's in English." Harry replied, confusedly, forgetting that the book he was reading was written completely in parseltongue, the language of the snakes.
Tonks furrowed her brows, wondering what Harry was thinking. "No, it's not Harry."
"It's not? But…" Harry started, but then stopped, giving a small smile as the truth dawned on him. He was concentrating so much on the text, that he completely forgot that it was a parseltongue book. "I guess it's like when I first entered the wizarding world, I thought I was speaking English to snakes, something that everyone could do. I didn't realize I was speaking another language, and it wasn't until Roger told me that I was speaking parseltongue that I realized it was a special gift, something that not everyone possessed. I can control when I speak it now, but I haven't mastered reading just yet. Since it's not a language that you can exactly learn like French or Welsh, it's easy to just slip into without even realizing it."
"I'm sure it is." Tonks grinned, earning a soft slap on the arm from her husband. She had no idea how one even went about speaking parseltongue, let alone being able to write the broken and twisted words down onto a piece of parchment for others to read.
"Let's see." He muttered, running a finger down the passage. "The spell calls for seawater, the ash of fiendfyre, the skin of a runespoor, an egg of an ashwinder, the eyes of an eel, a non-venomous snake tooth, tentacula leaves, a horn of a dragon, a bone of a rat, the flesh of a fish, the venom of an acromantula, and the blood of the potion maker." Harry finished, whistling loudly. "Merlin, this is going to be expensive."
"At least we have an abundance of seawater at our disposal." Tonks replied sarcastically, bringing an air of levity to the room. She couldn't stand how dark and dreary things had gotten lately, though she understood that sometimes it couldn't be helped.
Harry smiled at his wife, admiring how she could find the good in things when they were hidden from the rest of the world. "Make sure you don't touch the potion, okay? The reason why it needs to be the blood of the potion maker is because it protects the maker from being injured. If you touch it…you might very well lose whatever it is that touches the potion, be it your hand or fingers or any other body part." He warned, not wanting her to get hurt by accident.
"Okay," Tonks nodded, giving Harry a small smile as she sat on the stool in the corner of the room.
"I should also add crushed poison ivy leaves, too." Harry said to himself, trying to figure out a way to complete the potion without having all of the necessary ingredients.
"What will that do?" Tonks asked, wondering what it would add to the potion.
"Well, poison ivy, when in conjunction with a magical catalyst such as a dragon horn or a phoenix feather, can take the properties of a more powerful poison within the potion, in this case acromantula poison. Though, obviously it's not the same as actually having acromantula poison, which would be much, much more potent. I'm hoping that if we add them, it will negate the fact that we don't actually have enough acromantula venom."
"Interesting." Tonks nodded, having never known that. While she wasn't very fond of potions, she did manage to get through Snape's NEWT classes, which made her a very impressive potion maker in her own right.
"Can you get me a piece of firewood, please?" Harry asked Tonks; she nodded in response, and then walked out of the room and over to the fireplace to do as her husband asked. She picked up two pieces of small timber, both dry and cracking slightly in the middle, and then walked back into the workshop. "Thank you," Harry replied as Tonks handed the pieces of wood over to him.
"What are they for, the fiendfyre ash?" Tonks asked, wondering if he was going to create his own ash for the spell. She watched as he grabbed a small metal bowl that was charmed to be immune to all forms of heat, and placed the two pieces of wood inside.
"Yes," He nodded, and then backed up, making sure she was safe from the fire.
"Mordens!" He murmured, doing the wand movements and watching as a small stream of fire that was shaped like a snake burst out of the wand and consume the wood in the bowl. He said the counter spell after only a few moments, seeing the wood almost disintegrate into ash immediately. "Very good," He whispered in approval, happy that the first part of his potion was complete.
The pair then walked out into the library, closing the bookshelf behind them. Harry searched for another book, this time a muggle cookbook and pulled on the binding, watching as the bookshelf once again opened up to reveal its secrets. This time, instead of a workshop, it was a storage pantry of all different kinds of potion ingredients—while he kept many potion ingredients in his workshop, those were only the most common ones that he used, and not his entire personal storage. After taking a few steps in, both he and Tonks walked around the small room, gathering whichever ingredients they had, before closing the pantry back up and reopening the workshop.
"Viktor will be here soon." Tonks noted, placing a jar of eel eyes on the bench. "I'll get your large cauldron prepared when you're gone."
"Right," Harry agreed, wiping the grime off of his hands with a red towel. They both walked out, making small conversation to pass the time as they rested and waited for the Bulgarian to arrive.
Not ten minutes later, Viktor Krum walked into the library, smiling at the sight of Tonks and Harry sitting down on one of the couches, waiting for him. "Viktor!" Harry grinned, jumping to his feet and shaking his friend's hand, and then giving him a hug.
"Harry," Viktor replied, his smile broadening as he gave Tonks a kiss on her pink cheeks. "I hope you are doing vell, Tonks. Hermione is very excited for your gathering."
"Good, I am too. Lisa needs it, I think." Tonks nodded; she was having a few girls over in a couple of days, with the intent of cheering Lisa up and regaining her friendships with all of them. She knew that Lisa blamed Harry for Roger's death, and while it was misguided, she could understand the woman's sentiment and because of that, she wanted nothing more than to try and give the witch a smile or two.
"Shall we?" Harry questioned, gesturing to the door, wanting to get started on their ingredient shopping right away.
Viktor nodded and said, "Bye Tonks." The metamorphmagus waved goodbye and watched as her husband and Viktor walked out of the room, presumably to the fireplace down in the sitting room where they would floo to the Leaky Cauldron. When they were out of sight, she turned around and walked back into the workshop, knowing that she had work to do.
After arriving in the Leaky Cauldron, both Harry and Viktor went out back into the courtyard and tapped the brick that would grant them entrance into Diagon Alley. Immediately, the doorway opened, and they started their trek to the various Apothecaries' that Harry needed to go to in order to purchase the ingredients for the potion that he did not have in his stocks. "What the…when did Florean close up?" Harry asked as they walked past the ice cream shop: it had wooden planks on the windows and the door seemed to be bolted shut.
"It vasn't Florean, it vas his niece." Viktor answered, frowning slightly at the sight of Florean Fortescue's shop. "Florean has been gone for months."
"He has?" Harry questioned, confusion written on his face.
Viktor's gaze moved over to him; he had an understanding look in his eyes. "That's right, you vere unconscious." He nodded, remembering when Fortescue was taken by the Death Eaters. "The night that Dumbledore, vell, died, Death Eaters attacked Florean and dragged him out of his home above the shop."
"I had no idea." Harry murmured, his mind reeling. What else had he missed? He honestly didn't have a clue about Florean Fortescue's disappearance, apparently having other stuff on his mind—he liked Florean, and he especially liked the wizard's ice cream. He remembered when the wizard had helped him with homework when he had lived in the Leaky Cauldron during his Hogwarts days; it was something that he greatly appreciated and would never forget.
"You've been busy, it's understandable." Viktor replied as they entered Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.
It was a medium-sized store that had potions of all colors lining the walls, with small letters underneath them in order to tell the purchaser just what they were. In rows in the center of the shop were cabinets with wicker doors that housed a slew of potion ingredients, ranging from dead animals to live plants to inanimate objects from the belly of a goat. In the corner were barrels of a slimy green substance that smelled like rotten eggs. There were live crickets chirping in a box on top of a pedestal, where a witch was quickly gathering what she needed, all the while looking fearfully over her shoulder. At the counter there was a small sign that read 'Beetle Eyes: 5 knuts per scoop.'
Harry and Viktor walked around the store, gathering the ingredients that they needed and that the store stocked. After about twenty minutes, they brought the items up to the counter for purchase, placing them down on the wood for the store worker to count. Harry gave the wizard behind the counter a smile, who replied with a small smile and a nod. "Will that be all?" He said in his old and quiet voice.
"And two unicorn horns, please." Harry replied, looking down at all of his goods. The man's eyes went wide at his proclamation and a larger smile appeared on his face, as if he didn't believe what Harry had said.
"Right away, sir!" He chirped with renewed energy, bustling into the back room to gather the precious object that Harry had asked for. In order to prevent the rare item from being stolen, they kept their stock of unicorn horns in a cabinet in the back, charmed by curses and jinxes that punished thieves if they ever tried to take the horns without paying for them.
"Vhat do you need those for?" Viktor questioned, curiously—he had seen the list of ingredients that Harry had written on a piece of parchment, and unicorn horn wasn't on it.
Harry picked up a jar that was off to the side of the counter, and brought it up to his face, wondering just what it was that was inside of it—it was black, hairy, and looked like a cucumber. "I'm making a batch of Condicto Cocktail just in case the Order needs it." He answered, somewhat disgusted by the jar.
Viktor raised an eyebrow, not recognizing that term. Sure, English was his second language, but he had been speaking it for a long time, making him doubt that it was something that had been lost in translation. "Vhat's that?"
"It's a very powerful potion that can heal people from almost anything if it's prescribed in the right circumstances." Harry replied, finally turning his gaze over to Viktor.
"I've never heard of it." Viktor said as the attendant came back with two silver horns that glowed brightly with an almost divine aura.
"Not many people have." Harry murmured under his breath, understanding how unknown the potion was—in that way, it was sort of like the magic stripping potion he was about to make.
"It'll be twenty-seven galleons, eleven sickles, and four knuts for the items in the bag." The wizard said, counting up everything that Harry had. "And for the two horns, it's forty galleons."
Harry sighed and paid the man with a small smile, before gathering his things and walking outside with Viktor. They didn't go far away, only down one door to the next apothecary, this time 'Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary', Slug and Jiggers' main competition on Diagon Alley. They didn't stay very long in the shop since they had a very similar selection to Slug and Jiggers—when they left the store, they had only purchased one thing, which cost Harry around seven sickles.
After leaving that shop, the pair made their way into Knockturn Alley, giving a small shake of their head to an Auror who was guarding the entrance to the Dark Arts alley. As they reached the bottom of the steps that descended down into the alley, Graham Montague, Marcus Flint, Theodore Nott and Vincent Crabbe came walking out of a dark shop to their left, all of their gazes falling immediately upon Harry. "Well, well, well Potter, long time no see." Graham Montague mocked, slyly making a move for his wand.
Harry's green eyes ran over all of them, a clear look of disdain on his face. "Yes, well, it was a choice of mine to avoid you, Graham. I'm sure you understand."
"We understand much more than you do, Potter." Marcus Flint snickered, reminding Harry so much of a troll that he couldn't help but wonder if Flint actually did have some troll ancestry in him.
"I doubt that." Harry scoffed, a vicious smirk forming onto his face. "If I remember correctly, didn't you have to repeat your sixth year at Hogwarts?"
"It was his seventh." Vincent Crabbe corrected, earning a smack on the back of the head from Flint.
"Shouldn't you be running along, Potter? You know, to protect your sniveling godfather from the big, bad Dementors? Or is it your weirdo wife that you should be protecting?" Theodore Nott muttered, looking over to Viktor, who growled under his breath in response.
"You vere silent for all that time and that's the best you could come up vith?" Viktor mocked, his patience wearing thin. He hated the fact that even with them being known Death Eaters, they were still roaming the streets, free as could be, all because they knew how to protect themselves from the Ministry's grasp.
"No, you slime are simply not vorth it." Theodore laughed, making fun of Viktor's eastern European accent. Viktor made a move towards them, but was stopped by Harry's hand grasping his shoulder.
"I'm sure you all have robes to kiss and boots to lick, so why don't you move on along?" Harry inquired, noticing that the Auror at the entrance of Knockturn Alley had turned his attention to the group and was now looking their way. It wouldn't be good to get into a needless scuffle over a few mean spirited words.
"You'll be getting yours, Potter." Graham Montague scowled, as he walked up a smaller alleyway, moving away from Harry and Viktor.
"You will be getting yours, as well, Montague." Harry replied, tilting his head to the other three Death Eaters. "Flint, Crabbe, Nott, it's been a pleasure."
"Right." Flint muttered sarcastically, following the rest up the alleyway that Montague had went down.
Once they were out of sight, Harry took out his wand and moved it in an explicit motion; a silver stag erupted from the tip as a result, but disappeared instantaneously. "Vhat vas that for?" Viktor questioned him with a curious glance, wondering why he summoned a message patronus.
"I needed to tell Nymphadora something." He replied, cryptically, as he opened the door to a very shady apothecary: it was named 'Nightingale's Potions Apothecary'. Rotten smells and dust immediately besieged their senses, filling their nostrils, their eyes, and even their mouths as they took their first steps into the shop. Harry waved his hand in front of his face, swishing away some dust that was in the air, and then took another step forward, noticing the countless of drawers filled with potion ingredients that were hanging on the wall.
The store was much smaller than the other two, only holding about half as many ingredients. What they did have, however, were ingredients that the other two either couldn't get their hands on or refused to sell, such as human fingernails, teeth, and even shrunken heads. They weren't illegal, they were just…disgusting. Plus, most of the ingredients were too dangerous for the mass public to possess, such as cobra truffles, poisonous fungi that could kill someone if they touched it for longer than five minutes. They both noticed that the witch who was standing behind the counter was reading a magazine, seemingly not knowing that they had come in—or more likely, not caring.
Harry quietly gathered the ingredients that he needed, while Viktor curiously walked around the shop, having never been inside before. He rarely ever entered Knockturn Alley, having no business on the darker side of the wizarding world. He liked the simpler things in life, like quidditch and food, and especially his wife and family and friends. He noticed Harry pick up something dark and hairy, but didn't know what it was and figured that it was something that he didn't want to know about, either. After another minute or two, Harry put all of his items into a bag and brought it up to the witch at the counter, who told him the galleon amount without even looking at what he had. Once paid, he walked back over to Viktor and the pair headed towards Diagon Alley, their business in Knockturn Alley having been completed.
They both sighed when they noticed an accumulation of missing people signs that had been nailed to the wooden post that was off to the side. Nearly twenty posters were there, all with questions regarding the whereabouts of various people. Their eyes roamed over them quickly, knowing that this was a common occurrence in times like this, but Harry didn't see anyone that he didn't already know about: various people in the wizarding world, with Rita Skeeter being the most recognizable of the missing people. With another sigh, they continued on their path to Cedric's office.
When they passed by Gringotts, Harry noticed that there were now two goblins standing at the door, holding Probity Probes in their small hands. The probes, which looked like golden car antennas and were waved over a person's body, prevented people from walking into the bank while under magical disguise or concealment. If the person was caught with something of a concealing nature, the probes would send out a loud beeping noise, akin to a muggle car alarm. He couldn't help but give a small smile at that, knowing that it was his actions that caused the goblins to take such drastic measures—it would calm down eventually, he knew, but that wouldn't be for a while.
Just then, Ludo Bagman stumbled out of the white marble building, scowling at the goblins that were standing by the door. "No good, long fingered fiends." He sneered under his breath, and then after noticing Harry, he gave a bright smile. "Ah, Harry Potter, how is it?"
"Fine, Ludo." Harry nodded, remembering his last altercation with the Ministry Official, when he paid a visit to him after finding out he was disqualified from the English quidditch team. He still held a grudge over the man from that incident, something that didn't surprise him since he knew how angry he had been at the time.
"Good, good, what are you doing on our wonderful Diagon Alley?" Ludo asked, not noticing Harry's displeasure of him. He looked over to Viktor, and after a moment of processing, he exclaimed, "Viktor Krum!"
"Hello," Viktor replied, noticing Harry's unamused face.
"I'm glad to see you two together; I made quite a bag of galleons off of you two last summer." Ludo Bagman noted; his gaze was off into the distance as a smile appeared on his face, as if the thought of his money had just popped into his mind. "Better times, those were."
"We should be going, Bagman. It's been…a pleasure." Harry replied, his countenance expressionless.
"Wait," Bagman said, reaching out to Harry. "You're a Hit Wizard, would you happen to know where I could find Alastor Gumboil? I looked for him in his office, but he wasn't there. He's an old friend of my father's, you see, I need to speak with him about a boggart problem."
"He will be back in his office tomorrow." Harry said distractedly as he and Viktor continued off in their direction. Alastor Gumboil had immediately taken over for Pius Thicknesse after the man had been found to be Imperiused and locked away in a holding cell; Gumboil was an aged, legendary Hit Wizard, comparable to what Mad-Eye Moody was to the Aurors. A fact that didn't go unnoticed to the general public was that both men had the same first name, which initiated a string of parents naming their children Alastor back during the first war against Voldemort.
"Thanks." Ludo Bagman muttered, walking away towards the Leaky Cauldron.
Viktor and Harry stayed silent for a few moments, stopping again a minute after they left Bagman. "Are you vorried about dueling Voldemort?" Viktor questioned as they each bought some candy from a cart that was outside of an animal store that Harry had never been in before. He knew that it would be Harry that would be fighting against Voldemort, and though he would never say it out loud, he was scared that his friend wasn't talented enough to win against such a formidable opponent.
"Honestly?" Harry said, popping a piece of wizarding chocolate into his mouth. "A little, but I will have help. Dumbledore's taught me enough, but I will need a lot of luck."
"Dumbledore vas more powerful than Voldemort," Viktor responded, his eyes drifting around Diagon Alley as they walked towards Cedric's office. "I'm sure you vill do vell."
"He wasn't necessarily more powerful." Harry corrected, knowing that there were powers that Voldemort had that Dumbledore could never have—part of it was Dumbledore's ethics and morals, but the other part was Voldemort's incredible talent. "If Dumbledore and Voldemort were the same age…I think Voldemort would be second to Dumbledore not because he's weaker or not as smart, but because Voldemort chooses to ignore the things he doesn't understand: love, magical races such as house elves, and friendship. Those are all powerful magicks. So while someone might say that Voldemort's knowledge of magic was more extensive than anyone in the world, it's really not: there's a large chunk of magic that Voldemort completely ignored. When it comes to the Dark Arts, however, he certainly is the most knowledgeable, that I cannot disagree with."
Viktor stayed silent, not really knowing what to say in response. Luckily, they arrived at their destination before the silence became awkward, saving him from a conversation he wasn't prepared for. Viktor opened the door to Cedric's office, allowing Harry entrance before he took his steps in. "Harry, Mr. Krum." Terrence Higgs said, giving them both a small smile; he was wearing elegant silver robes, apparently having just come from the Ministry.
"Terrence." Harry replied, nodding his head to the man. Cedric walked out from his office in the back of the shop a moment later, and with a few quick goodbyes, they all left. "I figured we could eat while we work."
"That's fine with me." Cedric replied, looking over to Viktor. "What say you, Vikky?"
Viktor rolled his eyes, and after getting instructions from Harry to apparate to the gates of his home, he did just that, disappearing from Diagon Alley with a pop. Cedric and Harry followed closely behind him, and when Harry arrived to open the gates, they walked into Harry's property, shoulder to shoulder. "We just need to get one more ingredient." Harry said, directing them all over to the wooden stairs that would lead them down to the ocean below the cliffs. When they were close enough to touch the water, Harry flicked his wand and summoned a large jug, and then dipped it into the freezing seawater, filling it up to the brim.
Shivering slightly because of the cold, the trio walked back up the stairs and towards Harry's house, the wind ominously picking up as they neared the door. Once they were in the warmth of the house, they walked up the stairway and into Harry's library, and Harry pulled on a book to open the secret workshop behind the bookshelf. On the oak table, there was a giant stone cauldron, potion ingredients all around, and a book propped open to the necessary page that was over on the side. Harry threw his bag of potion ingredients down onto the table, poured the jug of seawater inside the cauldron, and took a seat on the stool in front of the bench; Viktor and Cedric each took a stool on each side of Harry, as well.
"So what exactly are we doing?" Cedric asked, cocking a questioning eyebrow. Harry had told them to come by, but he refused to tell them what it was that they were there for.
"Making a potion that will destroy some very important objects to Voldemort, things that he created to try and secure his immortality." Harry answered, knowing that neither really knew about Horcruxes.
Cedric furrowed his brows, trying to understand what Harry meant. "So by destroying them, we are destroying Voldemort?"
"No, he'll still be alive; he'll just be able to die then." Harry answered, dumping the ash of the fiendfyre into the cauldron, starting the process of Voldemort's ultimate destruction.
Three hours later, Viktor and Cedric having left just minutes before, found Harry out in his back yard, digging a hole in the ground through the snow, ice, and cold dirt. He didn't use his magic, wanting the satisfaction of beating Voldemort through personal effort, rather than wizardry powers—he thought it would be extra insulting to Voldemort if he knew he was defeated by muggle labor and not the magic he so loved. The stone cauldron, filled with a dull brown liquid was sitting in the snow next to him, was almost complete: the potion called for the wizard or witch to bury it underground for one whole night in order to be brewed properly. When the hole was made, which was only four feet deep, he levitated the heavy cauldron and placed it gently on the bottom, before capping it with a stone cover, preventing it from being tarnished by outside forces.
"Are you done for the day?" Tonks asked as Harry reentered the house, her hair a lively orange.
"Yes," Harry said, stifling a yawn. After turning off all of the lights in the house, the pair walked up into their room, both falling asleep the second their heads hit the pillow.
Harry woke up the next morning around ten, made himself a quick breakfast, and then went out back, hoping that his potion was how it should be if it was brewed correctly. Using his wand to levitate the cauldron out of the ground, he smiled as he popped the cover off, happy that it had turned the silver color that it needed to be in order to work. He levitated the cauldron behind him as he walked back into the house, stomping his feet on hardwood to get the snow off of his shoes—there was about an inch of snow on the ground, having fallen two days before that.
He placed the cauldron down onto his workshop table, using his wand to heat the contents up to a boil and then added a bowl of crushed poison ivy leaves. The potion smoked slightly, and then Harry stirred it, bending over and smelling it: it smelt awful. He waved his wand over it one last time, locking in the potion's heat before turning and leaving, knowing that it would be another six hours until the potion was finally complete.
Harry exited the room, closed the bookshelf, and pulled on another book; with a great lurch, the bookshelf popped back open, revealing a small chamber, lined with countless of large tomes, books that he didn't feel comfortable having other people see. He grabbed a book with a purple binding and immediately exited, opening up his workshop once again—he did not go in, however, instead he sat on one of the couches in the library, getting comfortable as he opened up his book. The book had spells that he hoped would help him defeat the Dark Lord in a duel, something that he doubted he would actually be able to accomplish.
Harry had been hiding a secret ever since he left Hogwarts, one that not many people knew about: he wasn't a very good dueler. It was part of the reason he decided to become a Hit Wizard, rather than an Auror. Sure, he had the knowledge and power to be good, but when he was dueling, all his mind could think about was staying alive, rather than fighting an offensive battle. That wasn't to say that he was afraid of dying, because he wasn't, it was just that he knew that walking away from the fight was more important than actually winning the duel. He thought back to the time in the Department of Mysteries when he was fighting Crouch and Quirrell, inwardly disappointed in himself that he had had such a hard time with the two wizards. Sure, they were powerful wizards, the best that Voldemort had, but they shouldn't have given him such a difficult time. After all, Albus Dumbledore wouldn't have had such a time with those two; instead he would have just taken care of them with a single flick of the wand. When it came down to it, in order to defeat Voldemort he knew that he would need two things to happen: great timing and a lot of luck.
He had come to the realization sometime ago that he was only up against Voldemort because he had things in his life that no one else had. It wasn't power that forced him and Voldemort to be enemies, but destiny: if it wasn't for Sirius being his godfather, he would have never found Slytherin's locket; if it wasn't for being the husband of Nymphadora, he would have never found Ravenclaw's diadem; if it wasn't for Bill Weasley being in the Order, he would have never known about Tom Riddle's Gringotts' vault—all these things were fateful, having nothing to do with his ability to wield a wand or harness his innate magic. Sure, he was undeniably a phenomenal wizard, he knew that, but he wasn't this great hero that everyone thought of him as. He wasn't perfect, either; he had a lot of flaws, including being quick to anger, being overprotective of those around him, and even, in his heart of hearts, somewhat agreeing with the Death Eaters' feelings that wizards and witches were better than muggles. Of course, what set him apart from the dark wizards was the fact that he would never act upon those feelings, and instead he tried to fight them, knowing that they were wrong and hurtful.
So there he sat, flipping the pages of the purple book, reading each page closely. He sat there for a few hours, Zeali bringing his lunch to him, continually reading, trying to become a better wizard in the hopes of defeating the Dark Lord. He wasn't ready for a final duel, he knew that, but he would try, and with a little hard work, he would hopefully prepare himself as best as he could. It wasn't until six o'clock came around that he stopped reading and the guests that he had invited over to witness the destruction of the Horcruxes were about to arrive.
With a yawn, he rose to his feet and entered his workshop, flailing his nostrils to take a big whiff of the potion's noxious scent. "It's finished," He said, popping one of the bubbles of the potion with his wand. The potion itself bubbled consistently, like a mud pool would at a muggle spa. He heard a noise coming from the doorway and he looked over to it, cocking an eyebrow, wondering if it was Tonks or his guests. "Kingsley!" Harry smiled, seeing his friend walking into the room along with Sirius and Remus; they all had a bottle of butterbeer in their hands, and were talking amongst themselves. "I'm glad you could make it." He whispered as the image from his dream of Kingsley's dead body popped into his mind.
"Hey Harry." Kingsley replied, not noticing the look in Harry's eyes. "Yeah, I said I needed sometime to myself so I had Proudfoot take over my duties for a few days."
"What is it that you're actually doing?" Remus questioned, knowing that Kingsley's mission was a secret to most people, including nearly everyone in the Order.
"I'm stationed as the assistant to the Muggle Prime Minister, preventing Voldemort's forces from attacking him." Kingsley answered, honestly, trusting both Sirius and Remus with the information.
"So you said you needed time to yourself but yet you use that time to be with people?" Sirius laughed, enjoying what he thought was irony in Shacklebolt's story.
"Funny," Kingsley rolled his eyes in jest as they all walked into Harry's hidden workshop behind the bookcase—it was the only room that his friends knew about.
"Here you go, Harry." Remus said, handing the younger wizard a butterbeer that he had in his other hand. His eyes moved down to the bubbling cauldron that was stationed on the wooden workbench; its contents were of a brilliant silver liquid that had the consistency of a rich stew. The smell of fish emanated from the cauldron, but it wasn't so overpowering that it made them nauseous. In fact, if one wasn't concentrating, one wouldn't even notice the smell. "Is it ready?" Remus questioned, knowing that the potion was the reason why they were all there.
Harry had invited them over that night to catch up and, more importantly, to witness the destruction of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes. He wanted to make sure that if anything went wrong, there would be others who would be able to carry on the deeds. Plus, he reasoned to himself when he had invited all three over, it would be a nice time to catch up and spend sometime with his older friends, whom he cared about just as much as his Hogwarts friends. He looked past the three men and saw Tonks come into the library and take a seat on one of the couches, waving her petite hand to Harry's guests before she began reading one of her witch gossip magazines.
"Almost," Harry whispered, taking his wand and giving the potion one final stir. A large bubble popped up from the bottom of the stone cauldron, and Harry leaned over and flared his nostrils for a smell, using his hands to whiff the aroma into his face. "It should be ready now."
"What is that?" Sirius questioned abruptly, seeing another three simmering cauldrons in the back of the workshop; they were much smaller and made of brass.
"One is a strengthening potion, one is a cauldron of potential Condicto Cocktails, and the last one is a potion that you are exclusively familiar with." Harry replied, cocking an eyebrow towards Sirius.
Sirius furrowed his brows, giving his godson a confused look. Then, after a moment's thought, he said, "That's the potion you gave me after I escaped from Azkaban? I thought you didn't know how you made it."
Harry laughed, shrugging his shoulders slightly, remembering that time before Voldemort's second rise—it was peaceful and happy. "The Pensieve doesn't lie. I know how powerful it is; I wanted it to be around so we can try to heal people after a battle against the forces of Voldemort. Hopefully, we'll be able to save someone."
"Well, at least Snape won't have to make it on the spur of the moment." Remus murmured, referencing how Snape needed to make a Condicto Cocktail for Harry after being cursed by Gringotts. "But shouldn't we be getting back to the Horcruxes?"
"Right," Harry looked over to his friends, giving them all a small smile as excitement bellied inside of him. This was it, this was what his work for the last two months had led him to: being able to destroy the Horcruxes, while keeping the history that they represented alive. In a manner of speaking, to Harry it felt like eating the cake and having it, too. He noticed in the corner of his eye that Tonks was also watching him interestedly, a nervous look on her face, as if she didn't exactly trust that what he was doing was a hundred percent safe. "Here goes." He said, reaching for Hufflepuff's cup with his left hand.
Gently, he ran a hand over the fine gold, wondering if it would be destroyed in the potion. It burned hot as he held it, somehow sensing its destruction was near, but Harry was not pained by the heat. Without saying another word, he dunked the goblet down into the potion, resting it at the bottom of the cauldron. He grabbed his wand, looked down at the open book that was next to the cauldron, and muttered, "Dehorcruxia" as he ran his wand over the potion. There was a wicked wailing sound that came from nowhere, the piece of soul inside of the cauldron seemingly being burned by the magic of the potion. It bubbled up tremendously, as if it was boiling, and stayed bubbling for nearly three minutes, before it ended suddenly. "Is it done?" Sirius questioned, somewhat anxiously.
"I think so." Harry said, using his wand and summoning the goblet out of the cauldron with a quick muttering of "accio." The goblet flew out of the potion and into Harry's hands, covered in the grey liquid, though not as much as Harry had expected.
"Did it work?" Kingsley questioned, looking from the potion to the goblet and then back to the potion again.
Harry studied the cup with his wand, poking at it and muttering unintelligibly, while the others waited for him to answer. "It worked," He said, slowly, his face showing his credulousness. "It worked even better than I had expected." He gulped down the ball of excitement that was in his throat, his eyes roaming all over the exquisite artifact. "I was worried that the potion would not only strip the Horcrux magic but also the magic that the goblet has inherently, the magic that Helga Hufflepuff charmed into it. That's why I added the 'dehorcruxia' after putting the goblet in the potion, hoping that the potion would only destroy the Horcrux magic."
"So…" Kingsley said in a hushed tone. "Voldemort's Horcruxes will be destroyed?"
"Oh yes," Harry said, giddily, as the happiness of being successful in his endeavor overcoming him—he was able to prevent the Dark Lord from destroying the world's history, his history. Not forgetting his purpose, he reached down to Tom Riddle's diary, picked it up, and dunked it into the potion. "Good bye, Tom Riddle."
Like before, the piece of soul inside of the journal let out a wailing sound as it was being destroyed. The noise was almost intolerable, forcing Harry and the rest to cover their ears with their hands. This time, the potion bubble more violently, before spilling onto the workbench and dissolving into nothing right away. As suddenly as the wailing and the bubbling started, they both ended abruptly, the potion returning to the original calm that it was before Harry had put the journal in it.
He flicked his wand and summoned the journal out, cleaning it off with a swipe of his wand and then tossing it over to the side, having felt that the Horcrux magic was destroyed. Then, gently, he picked up Tonks' silver tiara, or rather Ravenclaw's diadem, and just as gently as he picked it up, he placed it at the bottom of the cauldron, his skin burning slightly due to the potion. If it's burning me like that, he thought to himself, I'd hate to see what it would do to a person who didn't make it. "Dehorcruxia," He said again as he waved his wand over the potion, wanting to protect the magic that Rowena Ravenclaw had infused into the diadem.
He pulled his arm out just as the wailing sound rang out again, and not even a second later, the bubbling started. It lasted the same length of time as the others, but wasn't nearly as violent as the journal had been; instead, it looked like a child was blowing bubbles into the potion through a straw like it was chocolate milk, not boiling. Like the others before it, the diadem was stripped of the piece of soul inside when the bubbling stopped, destroying another of Voldemort's anchors to this world. He summoned the tiara from the cauldron, wiped off all of the excess potion, and placed it gently down onto the workbench, next to the other vanquished Horcruxes: the Peverell Ring, the Slytherin Locket, the Hufflepuff Goblet, and the Riddle Journal.
"So is that it? Are all of his Horcruxes destroyed?" Kingsley questioned Harry, giving the younger wizard an inquiring look.
"No," Harry shook his head. "I believe there's one more. I've already taken the steps I needed to, to assure that the last Horcrux is destroyed. He knows what he has to do and when he has to do it."
"What steps were those?" Sirius asked, wondering what it was that someone would need to do.
"Kylie." Harry said simply, not elaborating any further than that. He didn't want it to get out at all, regardless of the fact that he trusted the three in the room with his life. "So you guys never found the Chamber of Secrets in your Hogwarts excursions, right?"
"We found many secret chambers, but none that held beast or monster of Slytherin." Remus replied, seeing that Harry wouldn't continue the conversation about Kylie.
Sirius laughed, elbowing Remus in the ribs lightly. "The only beast they held was Moony on the nights of a full moon."
Remus sighed, but the small smile that was playing at his lips betrayed his seeming exasperation. "Why do you ask?"
"Because this potion," Harry gestured to the cauldron. "Originally needed basilisk venom, and it was Dumbledore's belief that the monster hidden inside of the chamber was a basilisk. It would make sense after all, Slytherin was a parselmouth and what is more dangerous to a person that a parselmouth-controlled basilisk? Plus," Harry reasoned further. "During my second year, your first year teaching Remus, when the Chamber of Secrets was supposedly opened, all of Hogwarts' roosters were killed. And what's deadly to a basilisk? It's the crow of a rooster."
"How did Dumbledore think the Chamber of Secrets opened?" Sirius asked, having never heard the story before. Remus had told him once that the school was threatened his first year by a monster and that Snape had tried to talk the other professors into thinking it was Remus, but he hadn't heard the whole story.
Harry shrugged, having no answer for that question. "No idea. All Dumbledore told me was that after Filch found this journal," He picked up Tom Riddle's journal and tossed it over to Sirius. "No more attacks ever happened. Did he tell the professors more, Remus?"
"No," Remus shook his head. "We didn't know anything at all. We were all just worried about protecting the students, rather than solving the riddle of the Chamber."
"…the riddle of the Chamber?" Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. One thing he did know about the Chamber of Secrets, however, was that Dumbledore believed that Tom Riddle was the cause of the first opening of the Chamber of Secrets, not Rubeus Hagrid like so many others thought. "Clever pun."
"What?" Remus questioned back, raising an eyebrow. His question was answered when Sirius showed him the name that was written in gold cursive on the cover of the journal, Tom Riddle. "Oh, right."
"What do we have to do now?" Kingsley asked Harry, though it was more of a question to the group than to Harry directly. "I mean, you know, the Order."
"We wait, I guess." Harry said, walking past the trio and into the library. He instinctively reached up to his forehead right then, where his scar pricked in pain for the first time in a long while. He didn't know why, but for a fleeting moment, it gave him pain, something that confused him since his mental shields were up and he hadn't felt any attempted intrusions into his mind. He closed his green eyes for a second, trying to keep his concentration over the headache that was starting to form behind his eyes. "Kylie said Voldemort will make his move on Hogwarts soon. It's all he has left, now that his most influential sleeper agent in the Ministry has been found. If he were to get Hogwarts, it would only be a matter of time until the Ministry falls."
"He would sure be able to do a lot of damage with Hogwarts." Sirius muttered, his mind going over the ramifications of Voldemort taking over the ancient wizarding school. He would have a millennium worth of knowledge in his grasp, thousands upon thousands of magical tomes, and countless of hidden artifacts. Plus, he would also have the protection that Hogwarts would afford him, such as the incredible wards that surrounded the property, the dangerous forbidden forest that prevented any intruders, and the various secret and unplottable chambers within the school, where he could hide if any force was ever able to breach the defenses of Hogwarts. If Voldemort were to get Hogwarts, he'd be nearly untouchable since it was the safest place in Great Britain, perhaps even the safest place in the world.
AN: The dream sequence at the beginning of this chapter was actually the original ending of the story. I changed the plot midway through, however, but I loved the scene, so I posted it as a dream, albeit taking out a lot of the details so it seemed more "dream-like." Though, that's not to say that the dream wasn't a foreshadowing.
AN: I'm still waiting on suggestions of what you guys want me to do: write a sequel to this story, write a prequel, write a story with another "strange" pairing for Harry (time travel would have to be involved for the older woman, because I refuse to have a teenage Harry be with a 30 something woman), or an entirely different story. Let me know.