HARRY POTTER AND THE UNFORGIVEN
A Sixth Year Harry Potter Fanfiction
BY
Jayiin Mistaya
"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."
...never tickle a sleeping dragon
COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Those rights are held, exclusively, by JK Rowling, and any other entities, corporations, subsidiaries, or groups not named here possessing legal rights to the aforementioned books and/or trademark.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is it folks! This chapter is what determines where Harry ends up! There were a lot of guesses and speculation, but none of you saw this coming. And that makes me smile.
A special shout out to those of you who have responded to my review responses. Thanks so much – I love talking to my readers, finding out what they think about the story.
As always, thanks to everyone who has been reading, even if you haven't reviewed, and especially to those people who have me on author alert or favorites.
More information on Harry Potter and the Unforgiven can be found at my website, which is linked in my Author Profile. This includes update dates, hints about upcoming chapters, and even a few spoilers.
Feedback of any kind is always appreciated. Remember, the more reviews I get, the faster I post. And I think you'll want me to post quickly.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:Thanks to Elusive Evan for making me continue to post this and to ElvenLaughter for support and reviewing every single chapter to date.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Without Reason
Gracie dropped him off at the front door of the gym with the key, so he could let Dudley in.
But Harry waited a moment before going inside.
The sun was coming up early, and he didn't think Gracie would begrudge him a moment to watch the sunrise. He watched the colors, most of all: orange met blue clashing with red fading to purple, all of it highlighted by the warm golden glow of the sun coming up over the horizon.
Harry smiled at that, enjoying the brief sense of renewal.
He felt better that morning than he had in awhile. He had, indeed, gotten breakfast that morning, after having slept well for the remainder of the night. He'd discovered Gracie didn't really wake up until she'd had at least two cups of tea and a cigarette.
It wasn't long before Vernon dropped off Dudley. "Morning, Potter. Nice outfit. And a haircut. Gracie's gonna spoil you."
Harry grinned, and shrugged. He was dressed in his new training pants and a new t-shirt. "Think your Mum and Dad would let her keep me?"
"Probably, if you so much as mentioned the possibility," Dudley said.
"How was the dance?" Harry asked, fiddling with the key.
"Fun. I met a girl. I like the girl. I think she tolerates me. Better than average start." Dudley answered with a fatalistic shrug.
"Hope you have better luck with her than I've had with women," Harry said, trying to unlock the gym.
To Harry's surprise, it was already unlocked.
He walked into the gym, and blinked at the sudden darkness – and the sudden silence. He could barely hear Dudley walk in behind him.
McAllister's was a lot of things, but dark and silent were not among them. The darkness was strange; it was thick, heavy, almost palpable. Harry couldn't see anything, even though when he turned around, he could see the sun streaming in through the windows, but it was as if light did not exist beyond them.
A harsh, pleased laughed greeted Harry.
"Lumos."
The voice sounded distantly familiar, but he didn't pause to think on it. He whipped out his own wand as light flared. He saw Dudley a few feet away, crouched in a fighting stance.
In a circle around them, in dark robes and white masks, were twelve Death Eaters.
The one with the lit wand laughed. "You should learn to guard your dreams better, Potter. The Dark Lord saw this place and sent us to fetch you. He misses you so, you see."
The Death Eater to the right of the speaker gestured languidly to Dudley with his wand. "The Muggle can leave. We don't want him."
Dudley sneered at the Death Eater. "Make me, freak."
The Death Eater's posture changed, and he pointed his wand at Dudley. "I mean it, Muggle. Leave."
"Something tells me you circus rejects don't want to make me." The expression of disgust on Dudley's face would have made Uncle Vernon proud.
Harry glanced over at Dudley, and whispered. "When I move, run. Okay?"
Dudley shook his head, looking angry. "Run from a fight? Just when I was starting to think you might be smart."
"Damn it, Dudley, run!" Harry spun away from the light-bearer, his wand pointing at the Death Eater nearest his cousin. "Stupefy!"
The Death Eater spun out of the way and the curse struck the mirror, shattering it into a thousand glittering splinters.
Dudley dove forward, hit the ground in a roll, and came up swinging. His fist impacted the jaw of the Death Eater that had invited him to leave with a sickening crack almost as loud as if the man had Apparated. The Death Eater crumpled, but another just pointed his wand at Dudley.
"Stupefy!"
The red jet of light caught Harry's cousin in the chest, and he crumpled with a look of surprise on his round face.
Harry raised his wand, but before he could speak, he heard a voice from behind him.
"Reducto!"
It was as if someone had taken a hammer to the back of his knees; he felt the bone splinter as he was blown off his feet and into the air by the force of the spell. But before his body had touched the cool linoleum, he was caught by a second spell.
"Crucio!"
The curse tore at him, and his insides twisted as the pain rippled outwards from his center. He gasped for air and bit his tongue trying spit out the words for a spell, any spell. He didn't even remember hitting the ground.
A third voice.
"Crucio!"
Harry's consciousness narrowed until all he was aware of was pain; his blood was on fire and his bones seemed crack from the inside out. The agony consumed him to the point he didn't realize the hoarse scream echoing through the room had torn from his throat.
A fourth voice.
"Crucio!"
"No..." He heard himself whimper, but he was distanced from it, as if the voice wasn't his. The third Cruciatus Curse seemed to be trying to drive his mind and his body apart. His eyes and his ears both seemed to pop and he felt warm tears on his face, but he knew it was blood, not tears...
"No?" He heard the almost-familiar voice again. "Want something different?"
He heard the voice again, this time speaking rapid fire, but the pain from the Cruciatus was too much for him to understand. He felt the effects; Burning Hex after Burning Hex raked up and down his torso. He jerked with each one, a blossom of agony that only seemed to accentuate the pain from the twin Cruciatus curses.
"Like that, Potter?"
Harry heard the laughter...and a fifth voice.
"Reducto!"
A sixth.
"Reducto!"
A seventh.
"Reducto!"
Both his arms jerked, the bones snapping like twigs. The third curse slammed into his lower chest, and his entire body jerked as his bones shattered; it was like shards of glass, a thousand white-hot splinters shredding his guts.
The ragged scream of pain made the mirrors vibrate.
"Beautiful sound, isn't it brother?" The first voice. The one he recognized.
After what seemed an eternity, they lifted the Cruciatus. He lay there, crumpled on the ground, his wand held limply in his hand.
The other Death Eaters laughed, and he heard other voices, casting other spells, barely feeling the fourth and fifth Reductor Curses hit his sides.
He convulsed, gagging, and spat out blood.
"Pario levin attono!"
A crackling bolt of blue light leapt from the wand of yet another Death Eater, wrapping him in lines of shocking heat; lightning sending his body into uncontrollable spasms. He swallowed blood, the hot-salty taste thick, like warm maple syrup. He choked again, hacking and gasping. Finally, he lay against the floor, his breathing short and ragged.
He heard them laughing softly. They were saying things. Mocking him, but the words didn't make sense.
There was an insensible roar from somewhere, and he felt, rather than heard Dudley leap to his feet; the Stunner had less of an effect on someone of Dudley's size and constitution. There was a grunt, and a faintsnap!
He heard a curse. "The bleedin' Muggle broke me wand!"
Dudley laughed coldly. Harry was vaguely surprised to hear the depth of anger in Dudley's voice. "Cowards. You can't do anything without those...things...can you?"
In a moment of blinding insight, Harry realized the Death Eaters had made several fundamental mistakes. The first was taking the time to torture him. Every minute they spent there was a minute more the Order had to come for him.
The second mistake was worse. All his life, Dudley Dursley had been good at one thing (other than eating twice his weight in junk food): hitting people. He had perfected it to an art, and had now spent half a summer training in nothing but how to hit people harder, faster, better.
And for the first time in his life, he could hit people with impunity. Neither his father, the wizards protecting Harry, or Muggle authorities would be upset with him for hitting these people. From the sounds of fist impacting flesh, Dudley was taking substantial advantage of the situation.
Unfortunately, the Death Eaters had no respect for any Muggle, let alone Harry's rotund cousin. They just kept firing spells at him and he just kept hitting them.
He could just hear their excuses to Voldemort..."I'm sorry, my Lord...who knew Muggles had arms? And knew how to use them?"
Harry bit his lip, holding back another whimper of pain as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but his arms wouldn't support the weight.
But he could see the mirrors.
Dudley ducked under a Stunner, his meaty fists lashing out like a pair of rapid-fire pistons, sending two of the Death Eaters sprawling, their masks cracked. Blood seeped out from between the cracks.
Dudley's fists, face and shirt were covered with splashes of blood – and none of it was his.
A Death Eater moved in close, trying to get him from behind, but Dudley spun, his elbow slamming into the Death Eater's face with staggering force, the sickening crunch and sudden flow of blood proof that the man's nose was shattered. He dropped to the floor, and Dudley kicked him in the ribs and the stomach and then finally the head.
Like a raging bull elephant, Dudley waded into some of the worst wizards alive, and began the process of beating them all into bloody pulps.
He had spent every evening sparring with Harry, who had used his speed to good advantage; none of the Death Eaters were nearly as fast as Harry, and Dudley contemptuously side stepped their pitiful attempts to hold him at bay. Every time he heard someone cry out a spell, he rolled away, and the spell missed.
Through his pain induced fog, Harry realized a serious flaw in Wizard fighting - you almost always knew what your opponent was going to do.
Despite Dudley's physical power, his cousin was beginning to flag, though more than half the Death Eaters were down for the count.
But there was no sign of reinforcements.
Where is the Order? Don't they know what's happening? He felt strangely detached from himself. Almost as if he were floating. Only the pain seemed to remind him he was still himself. Still conntected.
He remembered the darkness. The Order couldn't see in the windows! He had to do something...
His mind seemed to slide along, bouncing from thought to thought. He had to focus.
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.
The pain was unbelievable. Hot knives slipped through his lungs, slicing his insides. He wanted to scream, but he didn't. He couldn't.
Blood gurgled in his throat.
He forced himself to breath.
In.
Out.
Slowly, he gained control of his thoughts, pushing the pain to a distant corner of his mind.
And he curled his fingers around his wand. Their third mistake. They had left him his wand. The wand that had seen him through so many battles. The brother wand to Voldemort's.
A wand that meant he was expected to do great things.
He closed his eyes...there was only one spell he could remember right then...his mind felt scattered, his thoughts twisting with the pain. But he only needed one spell...something bright...to attract attention. To drive back the darkness.
He thought of his father; he thought of his mother. He had seen them, in the Mirror of Erised, and again, in the photo album Hagrid had given him. And later, he had helped draw them from Voldemort's wand, that night in the graveyard. They had spoken to him...their voices comforting him, warming him, supporting him as he dueled Voldemort.
He rasped out the words, blood bubbling up in his mouth.
"Expecto...patronum...!"
There was a flash of silver, and a brilliant stag burst from the tip of his wand. In the remaining mirrors, Prongs was reflected until he shone brighter than the sun. Shards of glass on the ground glittered brightly.
Dudley looked up, remembering the stag from the past summer. It had saved him from the darkness Harry had called 'Dementors'.
Running straight at one of the Death Eaters, it ran through the dark-clad man and out into the street.
There was a pause, as if the battle had stopped and taken a breath.
Harry heard a deep voice...he thought he knew a name...Shacklebolt...
"STUPEFY!"
"EXPELLIARMUS!"
He heard the footsteps, the screams. Saw flashes of light and color flashing overhead, voices bellowing...Prongs standing over him, a silent guardian of impossibly brilliant silver light...
"Father?" He lay back and tried to reach up to the stag, but his arm wouldn't move. "Please..."
Please save me. Don't leave me.
He heard his cousin kneel down next to him. "Come on, Harry, get up! We have to get you to the hospital...you're bleeding...please..."
"No." He croaked the word. Blood drooled down his chin and cheek. No hospitals. No doctors. He looked up and stared the stag in the eye, and he swore he saw something there...
Dudley seemed near hysterical. "Okay, whatever, we'll go home, just please, get up...!"
Home.
He tried to think of home. But he couldn't see a house...or a place...he saw a warm fire...the smell of fresh-baked bread...bright orange rooms...red-hair...soaring through the air.
Flying. Wings of red; wind through his hair. A small hand clasped in his own...
Home.
He reached his hand out to the stag.
I want to go home.
The world disappeared in a haze of silver light.
End Chapter
Revised 12-25-07
