The Second Chance
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything of Harry Potter. This story is inspired by Kurinoone's awesome amazing story 'The Darkness Within', which was inspired by Project Dark Overlord's wonderful fic- 'A Shattered Prophesy'.
Thank you SO much to Jaffaninja, Raquelgdc, Kurinoone, coolchickdiv, Oirasse, v1cky84, HazelMidnight20918,TommyTooth, Kimco96, Chingyu, Polaris Star, Ash-Bookworm113, saffarinda, Smfri, BiaaBlack Potter, Allie Danger,(welcome, new reader! :D) G, Nyra Lily Potter, ari, Phoenixx Rising and Potter fan! Chapter 18, Flaws is dedicated to all my special reviewers. Thank you so much for encouraging me!
Chapter 18: Flaws
"Can you try to recall the approximate time in which James left Potter Manor?" Professor Dumbledore asked, his midnight blue eyes boring holes in Lily even through the two- way mirror.
Lily shook her head, her eyes desperately searching Dumbledore for a sign of hope, that her husband might still return unharmed. "It was after supper. He seemed unusually cheerful then, since Sirius was caught. James left Potter Manor voluntarily. He wasn't caught by Death- Eaters… he went to meet Voldemort himself!"
"You have no recollection of the time, then?" asked Dumbledore gravely.
"No, that I can't be certain," Lily said softly. "But by the time I read his letter, it was already half past two in the morning."
"Do you think James had long since left the manor by then?"
Lily hesitated, before nodding slightly. "It was very quiet then… he might have already left by the back door, without my knowing." Lily paused slightly at this, taking in shallow breaths as she met Dumbledore's eyes. "He said he would be fine. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about his departure, unless he didn't return by the next morning."
"That's why you only chose to inform me tonight," Dumbledore concluded, his eyes losing their twinkle, his expression remaining impassive.
Lily looked her mentor in the eyes. "I had utmost faith in James, Professor," she replied. "Even now, I believe he will return… but I need you to help me find him. He's rash and hot- headed, goodness knows that's why he went out to meet Voldemort in the first place! Normally, I trust James' abilities to the fullest… but when it comes to his family or close friends, his judgment becomes clouded. I don't know what he will do."
"Are you sure it was James who set the agreement for him to meet Voldemort, or was it the other way round?" Dumbledore asked finally.
"I can't be certain," the red- haired witch replied, her tone troubled and worried, "but if Voldemort had really sent the letter, James hid it from me all the time. He must have been afraid I'd have tried to stop him."
Dumbledore sighed. "If it was Voldemort who made contact first, there is one thing I can be certain- James has already been snatched away by the Death- Eaters… but he is still alive. Possibly together with Sirius Black."
xXx
Within minutes, the entire Order had been alerted and shifted back to full duty mode. They had suffered a severe blow, losing five members to the Death- Eater raid in Greville Town previously- which was almost one entire team of Order members. But the rest that remained still showed no sign of giving up hope; the last attack had only served to fire their spirits to bring down the Dark Lord… except for one Mundungus Fletcher.
The man had been complaining no end since the very minute he had been summoned to attend the full Order meeting led by none other than Remus Lupin, one of James' best friends. He complained about the weather, his goods, his customers, the Order meetings, the Death- Eaters, the bad timing, his future prospects at business and generally his entire life. Remus didn't know what else he could do with the man except to implore him to remain quiet as the meeting progressed. After a short debriefing, in which the Order members came to the right conclusion that James' meeting place ought to be somewhere near Greville Town, since that was the last place he had seen Sirius before the latter had been captured, the Order decided to Portkey there to search for clues as to where the leader of Team Two had gone.
They managed to Portkey to the site after a few arrangements with Kingsley, who did his job by pulling some strings subtly and carefully in the Ministry. All in all, the man must have done a great job, for within fifteen minutes, there were four Portkeys laid on the table in Grimmauld Place, one for each Order team.
"Remember, if the area has anti- Apparition wards, don't try to force enter," Remus reminded the members, to avoid them from repeating the same error as Sirius once did. Sirius had spent five days in St. Mungo's at that time. "Just Portkey straight back here and wait for the others. Agreed?"
The rest of the members nodded. But despite everything, Remus couldn't help but feel anxiety rise in him as he looked around and saw only younger, inexperienced faces. The only few members he knew could defend themselves reasonably well were Tonks, Devon, Frank and Alice, and himself. The others like Snape and Moody had been unable to attend the meeting- Snape was still away at some Death- Eater meeting, while Moody had sent a Patronus saying that he suspected Death- Eaters of surrounding his house, and therefore was unable to risk it out now.
"On the count of three," Remus said at last. "One, two, three-"
The old quill he and his team was holding flashed a brilliant blue. Remus felt as though his hand was glued towards it, before the Portkey jerked forwards, and transported the entire Team 3 members towards their destination.
xXx
There were no anti- Apparition wards set up around the area.
Remus did a quick headcount as soon as all the Order members had arrived, and ordered for Team 1 and 2 to move off into the right of the forest, whereas Team 3 and 4 proceeded onwards. To their right was a vertical drop cliff, where they could see the outline of Greville village, so there was no point in checking there.
Their team did not take long to reach the site where James had last met Voldemort a few days previously. There was a strange stench in the air that stank of rotten meat, and Remus only needed to take a whiff of it before recognizing the scent of blood.
Upon approaching closer, they saw it at last- the dead body of Rosier Senior splayed across the grass, terror in his eyes, his mouth still wide open, as though pleading. His flesh was already beginning to decay, albeit only a little, but Remus, with his werewolf nature, smelt the lingering presence of death all too keenly. As the rest of his team members moved forwards to search the body for more clues, Remus' eyes were drawn to a single object- a small locket with a green stone set into it. The green stone seemed to emit a pale, unearthly glow as Remus approached it- and once he touched the locket, he immediately felt a familiar rush through him.
It was James' magic.
Stupid stag, he thought to himself with a flash of annoyance and anxiety. What have you done now?
It was a horrible feeling, being drunk. He honestly didn't know why so many people appreciated alchohol, of all things.
Firstly, his brain was in total chaos. And secondly, his body was out of control. He couldn't even raise a hand properly. He'd have to concentrate, real hard. And even then his arm would come swinging upwards in an alarming manner, without its usual grace. Not that he had been particularly graceful in the firsy place.
The worst thing ever would be the point when he woke up.
The second light filtered in through his eyelids, Damien gave a croak, which was meant to be a groan actually- and flopped over to his side, feeling completely nauseous. His brain felt like coiled lead tendrils, his entire body weighed three thousand pounds. His mouth felt dry, so did his eyeballs; and his throat was so parched he realized he could barely make a sound.
At first, he'd panicked. Of course, as usual- he couldn't remember why or how he got here, or felt this sick at all. He was just beginning to get suspicious of yesterday night's bright blue mint ice cream he had decided to try at dinner before the duel when it all came flooding back to him. Like frames of pictures barrelling into his head without pause.
His head pounded, it hurt no end, but Damien forced himself to get up.
It was just his luck that the first person he bumped into on the way down the staircase happened to be Kit Mason.
XxX
"What are you doing here?" snapped Damien aggressively once he recognized the Gryffindor transfer student. The background still seemed blurry to him, he could only see Kit's features to an extent, but it was enough.
He should really have expected his response. Kit raised an eyebrow at his disheveled state. "Good morning to you too, Potter."
Damien mumbled something incoherent before lumbering down the steps clumsily, making a lot of noise in the progress. His footfalls felt heavy... and a sense, they were. Kit mentioned something about 'unecessary noise pollution' in the background, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Everything was so horribly fuzzy and his head was hurting so much he thought he might pass out. Perhaps getting out of bed wasn't such a good idea after all.
It was all he could do to stumble straight to the bathroom and empty the contents of his stomach. At least he felt better receiving a full blast of the ice cold water. As soon as he had freshened up reasonably well, he wondered what time was it, and more importantly where was Ron.
He had quite a few important questions to ask them.
It turned out that it was precisely breakfast time when Damien woke. Being late- risers as usual, Damien bumped into a sleepy Ron in the middle of the staircase on his return to the boy's dormitories. And of some reason, Ron looked as though a miracle had happened when he saw the youngest Potter on his feet, which for some reason caused irritation the younger boy.
"You can walk now?" it was the first thing Ron said, accompanied by a dubious tone.
"Yes, I only managed it after spending fourteen years of doing just that," Damien said snappishly.
Ron didn't seem to mind the youngest Potter's irritable mood. "I meant you're better than yesterday night," he explained. "Hell, you couldn't even say something before coughing and splattering everywhere."
Damien winced slightly. "Splattering what, exactly?"
"Vomit, what do you think?" returned Ron, making a face as well. "Then you started mumbling incoherent things like not being able to live anymore. At least that's what I heard."
"Well, you try getting drunk next time and see how you feel about it," Damien shot back. "And in my defense, it really felt like dying. Where were you last night during the party?"
Ron merely yawned and stretched in reply, before mumbling something like, "Dumbledore's office."
Well, that was unexpected.
"Dumbledore's office?" Damien repeated, disbelieving. "What on earth were you doing up there?"
"Kit's shield," Ron said, his eyes meeting Damien's wide hazel ones. "It looked very similar to Harry's... as most of the school population noticed. Hermione decided that we ought to ask his opinion on the matter."
"And?" Damien said, following Ron's story closely.
Ron lowered his voice at this. "Dumbledore asked a lot about Kit," he began. "He asked if Kit seemed to like it Hogwarts, did he tend to socialize with other House mates, how he was settling in and so forth. I was curious by then, so I asked the Headmaster why didn't he take his questions straight to Kit instead? Then Dumbledore merely said it was unecessary. He then assured us that many other wizards with equal skill and power could produce bubble coloured shields as well. And of course it's true... after all, we have coloured shields as well, thanks to Harry's training." He paused here for a bit, looking at Damien's hazel eyes, which were downcast, avoiding his gaze.
"It's just a coincidence that Kit's shield is also blue," Ron tried suggesting, though he still sounded a tad doubtful himself.
Damien, on the other hand, shook his head slightly. "No, it isn't just a coincidence," he said. "There's something weird about Kit. He's different, and he's got something big to hide." A pause then, "I don't trust him anymore."
Ron stilled a little at this, but he never said anything to contradict Damien's statement.
xXx
As the Gryffindors descended the staircase together towards the Great Hall for breakfast, there seemed to be a great commotion going on, and the source of noise proved to originate from their destination. Quickening their paces, Damien, Ron and Hermione arrived at the huge double doors and pushed them open- only to see students were chattering loudly amongst themselves, and owls (Ministerial, by the ribbon crest they wore around them) squawk loudly, dropping pieces of bright gold pamphlets over the Great Hall, scattering them onto each House table.
"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" Ron said, striding forwards, before a barn owl dropped three pamphlets right onto his head, along with a shower of peanuts from the Gryffindor table. "Hey! Watch it!"
Damien snatched one of the pamphlets out of Ron's face before it fell, and read the headlines in glittering gold: Ministry's Success!.
A detailed read left Damien with a feeling of horror at the pit of his stomach, and glancing at Hermione, who had finished reading it first, she felt the same way about the article. The grosteque picture at the bottom of the pamphlet did not help one bit.
The Ministry Aurors have managed to apprehend the long time supporter of You- Know- Who...
"I highly doubt that," Ron was the first to speak in disgust. "The Ministry Aurors are completely incompetent. Well, unless they mean the Order members."
"It's Rosier's father," said Hermione in a faint voice, "Didn't they think of it before they sent these stupid and unecessary things to our school! How could they have gotten in anyway?"
"Perhaps the Ministry forced Dumbledore to allow these pamphlets onto the grounds," Ron suggested. "Last I heard, Fudge was close to being sacked, what with the public being rather anti- Ministry all the while. I supposed this is his method of promoting the Ministry's fame..."
He trailed off at the sight of the picture at the bottom of the pamphlet, and his gaze strayed back to the words murdered on the spot, as sentenced...
"There's something more to this," Hermione said quietly. "The picture... it looks like the corpse has been a few days old! It doesn't look like Rosier was murdered on the spot. And what's more, sending these pictures and pamphlets to Hogwarts... it doesn't really reek of the Ministry."
"So you're saying this reeks of Death- Eaters," Ron said, in a forced calm voice.
"The picture certainly does," Damien muttered, before turning away from the Gryffindor table.
He had officially lost his appetite.
It turned out, one of the Ministerial owls wasn't an owl after all.
No sooner than when it had flew into the Great Hall when Kit immediately tensed up, sensing that small familiar spark of his father's magic. His senses told him where and what it was, but he daren't turn around to look at the eagle owl soaring towards him.
It dropped a pamphlet into his hands, specifically for him only, before giving his finger a harsh nip and soaring away.
Harry's only thought as he wiped his bleeding finger disgustedly was that Voldemort's black raven did not enjoy being an owl.
xXx
The plan was already complete.
Being the creator of the Hogwarts shield spell himself, Harry knew exactly how to manipulate it to fit his plans. He couldn't modify what that had already been done- the shield wouldn't be completely torn down until he eliminated the four Secret Keepers, but it wouldn't be completely necessary. He could still choose to undo the other knots.
He needed to use one of the Keepers, under the influence of the Imperius Curse. He could use their magic to undo the spell, to delete all the registered names of all the students and staff from the Blood List. The blood shield would then work against them. Once their blood was unregistered, the blood wards would immediately expel all of them out of Hogwarts. Most of them would be killed. The rest, like the purebloods or those who supported his father's cause, plus the four Secret Keepers, would live. He couldn't with any of his magic eliminate the Secret Keepers' names from the Blood List, they were the ones that started the spell after all.
And by then, Hogwarts would be too easy to conquer after all. Dumbledore wouldn't seal himself up in Hogwarts when all his students had been killed. He would come out from that wizarding school, gather his Order for the last war. And Harry was ready to defeat him for that.
Everything was in place; perfect.
It was just the matter that Harry didn't have the heart to do it.
Much as he wanted to, Harry did not dare to send a reply back to his father via the sulky black raven disguised as an owl. He was pretty certain that Dumbledore would inspect each and every bird before allowing them to fly back to the Ministry.
Apparently, the Ministry had the full public support for delivering these pamphlets to Hogwarts. Apparently. But false support or were they doing it out of fear, it provided the needed pressure on Dumbledore to force the Headmaster to allow these pamphlets on his grounds, though he promised it would be the last of it. It didn't matter if it was anyway- Voldemort had achieved his objective.
After working through the intricate spell webs and passwords for an eternity, Harry was finally able to reveal the message. The now seemingly empty piece of paper recognized his magic, and at his wave, the bold letters in cursive font began to unveil.
It took barely a second for Harry to finish the letter, and after doing so, he felt incredibly annoyed.
It wrote, Hurry back.
Nothing else.
Of all things! What a complete waste of ideas and schemes, Harry thought bitterly. And in the end, his father couldn't even bother to write something longer than a line.
And by this, Harry also knew- that if he failed to return within three days of receiving the message, his father would come personally looking for him... as in their agreement. Harry didn't know how much he liked the idea of that.
Harry eyed the parchment for a while, checking it further for instructions or anything else besides those two words, but there was indeed nothing. Voldemort had left him an extra brief and clear message, without any indication or attachments. Possibly for security reasons.
Sometimes, Harry wished he never wasted so much energy and concentration trying to decipher the complicated web of spells just to read the blasted message.
At the sound of the ringing bell, signalling the start of their first class, Harry promptly threw the parchment into the flames.
For a moment, the fire flickered, before it suddenly burst into emerald flames, and Harry found himself looking face- to- face at his father.
He stared at the image in surprise, stunned into silence, before his father spoke.
"It's not very courteous to burn someone else's letter," Voldemort said sardonically with a raised eyebrow.
xXx
"Well, it's a lucky thing I did," retorted Harry once he got over the unexpected... surprise. "And you're cutting it a bit risky. What would you do if I tossed the parchment into the flames in a Common Room full of kids?"
"Promptly kill them all," said Voldemort in a simple, matter- of- fact manner, before adding, at Harry's annoyed look- "I know you too well, Harry. You would never have risked that letter in public. The same way I had known you'd throw the letter into the flames."
Harry barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Yes, probably because your letter was proving so incredibly informative and helpful."
"I'm sure at least the spells I wove around the parchment taught you patience," Voldemort said with a slight smirk. "And for your information, I meant it, Harry. Return back to Riddle Manor as soon as possible. You've spent far too long around that Muggle- loving wizard's school."
"It's only been little more than two weeks," Harry protested.
Voldemort cocked his head to one side. "Are you starting to enjoy your time there now, little child?" His ruby eyes narrowed.
"Yes, I'm having the time of my life here," said Harry sarcastically, knowing all too well that Voldemort was prodding him to see if he had tried to discover the truth of what happened during the period he was Imperiused by Dumbledore. "It's such a thrill acting as a complete bumbling idiot in front of the real ones every single day!"
"Have fun then," Voldemort replied, unwavered. "You asked for it. What of the plan?"
It was stunning how Harry's relaxed posture could possibly grow rigid in such a short expanse of time; one minute he was as Voldemort called, 'pouting', the next he was completely serious, his emerald green eyes in a fixed stare at his, jaw clenched.
"It's ready," he replied, rather stiffly in Voldemort's opinion.
"Then what is the problem?" said Voldemort, his ruby red eyes scanning Harry critically.
This time, Harry did not look away. "I'm not," he replied, softly.
Voldemort did nothing contradict his son's statement. "I know," he replied in an even voice. "That's why you're not going to do it."
Harry's confused green eyes met his.
"I am."
Silence was once again met by his words. Voldemort waited patiently for the inevitable outburst, which was bound to come sooner or later.
"What do you mean you are?" Harry demanded, emphasising the 'you' so much Voldemort felt a tad annoyed. The Dark Lord felt as though Harry was hinting at his competency to complete the plan.
"And what is your statement supposed to mean?" he returned, eyes still narrowed on his son under a glamour. "As you have clearly as good as admitted- I am more capable of performing the task than you. You still show great weaknesses, Harry- and you need more time to overcome them."
"This is not about my weaknesses!" said Harry suddenly, his tone suddenly fiercer, and his intense blue gaze began to show signs of emerald. "It's about hundreds of innocent lives on stake. I know by now you do not share my views, father- but no offense meant, you gave me authority to this mission. Surely I have right to withdraw my plan."
"Let's talk about your plan first," Voldemort brushed the comment aside, though he never did forget it. "How many lives exactly will be eliminated in the best course of action to conquer Hogwarts?"
"All of the students will die," said Harry, his gaze cold and hardened, not looking at his father. "Only four will survive, excluding me, among the entire Hogwarts population."
"The four Secret Keepers," Voldemort said evenly, his ruby red eyes trained on his son for a reaction.
None came.
"I haven't an idea who they are as of yet- I can only guess Dumbledore is one of them, but there is no solid proof," Harry continued. "It could be just a ruse. And there's McGonagall."
Voldemort remained silent. Since Harry was nowhere near to discovering who were the Secret Keepers as of yet, his current plan proved to be the best; it was neat, carried power and the weight of a message Dumbledore was not likely to ever forget. But Harry seemed to be repulsed by the idea of his own plan; he seemed to be trying to wreck his way around it, to find a less damaging one.
"Your plan is a good one, Harry," Voldemort said simply, ruby red eyes still studying his son.
Harry's glamoured azure eyes never met his, nor did he give any indication that he had heard his father at all. If any, his back stiffened, and after a minute's silence, he mumbled something about having classes and stalked off, trusting Voldemort to erase all traces that he had been there by himself.
Not keen to cut their conversation with such an ending, Voldemort spoke, before Harry had left, "One last thing. I have Sirius Black and James Potter as my prisoners in Azkaban. Shall I keep them until your return?"
Harry turned back, his face angled slightly in his father's direction, before he nodded once. Then, "Thank you, father."
With a wave of his hand, Harry banished the Silencing Charm he had cast around the room, before walking away.
On the other side of the door, Kit surfaced, and he had a cool impassive front once more as he hurried down the corridor towards the Charms classroom.
xXx
A/N: So sorry for the long wait, I really hope this will make up for it. Thanks for all your support in the last few chapters, you really encouraged me and kept me going. Thank you ever so much!
Please do tell me what you think about chapter 18, or if you're lazy to review, please do rate:
'.' for lovely
':D' for awesome/ amazing
'O' for okay
'X' for terrible.
Thank you!
epsilon scorpii
P.S.: Please do check out my new and first canon based Harry Potter one- shot, titled Before the Rain. It took me almost four hours to write and work in the multiple layers and imagery, so here's an excited author hoping you'll tell her what you think. :D It's about Tom Riddle Sr. meeting his carbon copy at the bus stop one rainy day... and the story goes on from there. I really hope you'll try it and of course, give me some feedback! :D