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'.
Sincerely hearfelt thanks to: Nightcrawlerfw, rainbow girl 09, Smfri, Jessica, Harry fanfic, Phoenixx Rising, LadyGryffin17, v1cky84, Ash- Bookworm 113, Kimco 96, Kurinoone, Black Panther 101, Oirasse, TommyTooth, coolchickdiv, The Other Guy Hulk, Priyanish Potter and 3 other unnamed guests :) for your helpful comments, encouragement and support given in the last chapter, this chapter is for you. ;D
"...So, when do you think we'll receive a reply?" Damien asked as they stood in the Owlery, after watching Hedwig soar out with their letter minutes ago.
Draco remained impassive. "I'm not sure if we will," he answered, his voice emotionless.
Damien's eyes widened. "What? Why not? I thought it was part of your brilliant plan!"
The elder Slytherin shrugged. "However brilliant you may find my plan to be, it all depends on my father. If he chooses to ignore the letter... then we won't be receiving any form of reply."
The youngest Potter thought about this for a moment, before guessing wildly, "Does that mean that you're not sure whether he cares enough about your well being to be concerned?"
Draco shot him an odd look, as though he were disgusted by the idea. Damien, in reply, raised his eyebrows.
"You have a knack of missing the main point, Potter."
"Oh, I don't think I did," Damien said in an annoyingly knowing voice, grinning like an idiot at the same time.
The elder of the pair raised an eyebrow at that expression. "You do realize Potter, if you irk me too much, I might feel obliged to curse you... and this time you won't have the magic stone to protect yourself."
"I can defend myself reasonably well!" Damien retorted indignantly. "Sometimes I wish that I had duelled you instead that day."
"Oh please, you couldn't even defeat Rosier," Draco scoffed. "And besides, if you had... we'd probably have never realized who Kit was."
Damien fell silent, contemplating, before he eventually spoke up. "What really made you act that way?" he asked hesitantly. "Why did you fire a dark curse at Kit when he just let you get back your wand?"
"It was just an instinct, but it overtook me nevertheless," Draco replied dismissively. "I wanted to bait him."
He turned to walk away, out of the doors leading to the Owlery, before he paused. "Tell me when your snowy returns."
Damien hadn't even replied when Draco had vanished from his line of vision.
Sometimes, he really wondered what his elder brother saw in the Slytherin.
Chapter 22: Falling back into Place
Damien couldn't sleep that night, something which was happening more and more frequently. His mind was in a unique jumble of anxiety, hope, fear, panic, joy, sadness and worry- and he was beginning to wonder how on earth could he possibly feel so much at the same time. His mind kept wandering back to Harry, or more accurately- Kit, then Dumbledore- then with a lurch of his heart, his parents. What would his father say if he found out that Damien had kept his revelation about Harry secret again? He would be beyond furious...
But there was not much he could do about it, was there? He couldn't tell anybody else about it, or Draco sworn he would be out of the plan. Perhaps a little later, after Draco's plan was already in progress, then maybe he could persuade the Slytherin to let others in on the secret...
...but Voldemort must not discover that they have worked out the secret, else Harry might suffer the consequences... this time, he might just kill the Dark Prince for real...
Why hadn't he last time, though? What had made Voldemort go back on his words? Snape had been there, he had witnessed the torture of the Dark Lord inflicted upon Harry- although Damien did not hear much of the descriptions, he knew that Voldemort had used a whip as a form of punishment, as though to remind Harry of the days when he was only four years old, tortured by his pseudo- biological parents.
The Dark Lord had promised death to whoever who betrayed him, yet the same punishment did not befall on Harry... he had merely wiped his 'son's memories clean, spun another lie, and used him all over again, just like a pawn.
The problem was that Damien was not sure if Harry was ony just a pawn to Voldemort... not anymore.
xXx
The youngest Potter had asked Hedwig specifically to come to his dorm window to alert him first thing once she returned. Naturally, he planned to stay up all night waiting for his owl, but his brain had better ideas and decided to send him off into a deep, somewhat nightmarish sleep. He had almost yelled aloud in fright when the first thing he saw after opening his eyes was Hedwig's huge amber ones. Though they were nothing like Voldemort's, the colour resemblance was a bit close...
Groaning, Damien stumbled out of bed to shut the window he had thoughfully left open for Hedwig before he fell asleep. He had also cast a Warming Charm around the window so that the chill outside wouldn't enter and wake the other students. At least, it was supposed to be a Warming Charm. What with the increasing stuffiness of the room, Damien was worried that he'd ended up heating the window frame instead.
As soon as he had detached the letter from Hedwig's leg, he muttered the counter charms Draco had attempted to teach him. It took him several tries, but finally the Layhoo Jisteen began to materialize, and with a sigh of relief and contentment, Damien slipped on the stone again, feeling extremely accomplished after managing to reverse a few advanced spells on his own. The feeling soon faded, though, when the youngest Potter remembered that his eldest brother most probably could have managed that feat when he was only seven years old.
He waved Hedwig off with the promise of a treat later, then opened the parchment with barely concealed excitement.
It was completely blank.
Of course, this was hardly surprising since Lucius Malfoy was the sender. It was bound to be under some protective charm or spell; Damien could almost trace the lingering presence of magic over the letter, but he had no idea how to open it.
It looked like he just had to wait for Draco Malfoy after all...
Draco looked up from the toast he'd been picking with on his plate. Class was due to start in twenty minutes, but the youngest Potter had yet to make an appearance at the Gryffindor table.
Earlier that morning, Draco had already visited the Owlery, and Hedwig's presence, with the absence of the Layhoo Jisteen, confirmed that she had returned last night, and Potter was currently holding (if any) the reply from his father. Well, if Potter thought he could read the letter without Draco's help, he would be solely mistaken.
Speaking of which...
"Excuse me," said Draco pointedly to the girl sitting beside him, whose elbows were sticking uncomfortably close to his. The girl seemed to smirk at this, and Draco felt as though she had gained another point in something, though he was too tired to care about Slytherin power plays right now. He had only one objective in mind, and that was the seemingly empty parchment Potter had stuffed carelessly in his bag.
He passed by the Gryffindor table, throwing a meaningful look in yawning- Potter's direction, before walking past quickly. Then he proceeded to wait in the shadows with a Notice- Me- Not charm cast around him, which he found very useful ever since he'd returned from being declared a traitor to Slytherin.
Five minutes later, Draco was starting to pace around in his little hiding place, having found no sign of Potter heading towards him. Surely he had been obvious enough! Any less subtle and the others, especially Dumbledore and the other Gryffindors, might notice something off. If Potter didn't even manage to get that, he was a lot denser than what Draco gave him credit for.
"So you're really here?" an all too familiar voice spoke up. "Who would have thought!"
Draco narrowed his eyes in annoyance as he turned around to face Damien. "What a surprise to see you too, Potter!" he hissed sarcastically. "That was generally the idea, idiot."
Damien thinned his lips but said nothing as he followed Draco into the nearest empty classroom. The Slytherin quickly locked and Silenced the area- reminding Damien idly of Harry. Both of them were incredibly paranoid; no wonder they were best friends.
"So, do you have the reply?" Draco said at last, after he'd finished with the spell work.
Damien wanted to say 'I thought you weren't sure whether we were going to receive one' but he never said it out loud. Instead, he rummaged around in his bag and brought out the roll of seemingly empty parchment Draco had been eyeing all along in the Great Hall.
"That's not very subtle of you," Draco commented as he took it from the younger wizard. "I could see it the entire time you were having breakfast."
"Well, it's empty, so nobody except you would guess," Damien defended himself half- heartedly. Truth to be told, he had been so sleepy after failing to undo the spells around Lucius' letter that he'd simply stuffed the it into his bag last night, hence its rather crumpled state.
Draco said nothing as he took it from Damien and turned his back on him. Frowning, Damien tried to take a closer look at what Malfoy was doing, but Draco had already turned back to face him with the long scroll of parchment, which was now covered with words.
It was at that infuriating moment in which the bells for classes to begin started to ring. Damien groaned aloud at this, and Draco rolled his eyes, stuffing the letter away in his own pocket.
"Hey, I haven't read it yet!" Damien objected indignantly.
"It's not complete, we need Dumbledore's version first," Draco told him, unrelenting. "Now go back to class, we'll meet here again tonight. After curfew."
Damien groaned again. "You really do know how to pick your timing, don't you? And how do you propose I sneak out of the Gryffindor Tower?"
"A Disillusionment Charm, Notice- Me- Not charm... whatever," Draco seemed unconcerned. "You always manage to sneak out with Weasley, I don't see how this can be a problem for you. And mind you, Potter, don't be late."
"What do you mean we need Dumbledore's version? What's that about? You expect me to cooperate with you, but you never tell me any of your plans!" Damien yelled after Draco's retreating back, feeling both helpless and extremely irritated at the same time. "Tell me why I shouldn't simply go to Ron and Hermione instead for a better one?"
Draco merely looked bemused, but there was a hint of steel in his eyes as he spoke, "I wouldn't mind, Potter- you've already helped me achieve what I needed. If you want to turn to Granger and Weasel, run along. But don't expect further cooperation, not from me."
Damien gritted his teeth in utter frustration and despair as the door slammed shut behind him. He sank into the nearest chair sulkily, wishing he could throw a tantrum and demolish the classroom to vent his anger. Now that was one of the perks of being extraordinarily powerful; sometimes destroying things could bring about an immense bout of satisfaction.
The door swung open for the second time, and Damien found himself abruptly meeting his best friends' suspicious and worried gazes.
"We just saw Malfoy walk out," Ron told him, wearing an odd mixture of expressions on his face. "...what were you both doing in here, Damy?"
'Fabulous,' Damien thought darkly.
Meanwhile, far away in Riddle Manor, Harry woke up with a groan. His entire body felt as heavy as lead, and his head was pounding vaguely, but all those would be cured in a matter of minutes. Groggily, he pushed himself upright and opened his eyes.
He was back in his own room; and the curtains were still drawn shut, hence not permitting most of the light entry. Judging by the faint shadows thrown on the wall, Harry guessed that it was almost nine o' clock, but he couldn't quite be sure. Everything was fuzzy to him, which ought to be a feeling he was extremely familiar with by now, but somehow Harry still couldn't get used to it. He hated being in the unknown, when he had to rely on others to fill him in on things that had happened when he was passed out.
After examining himself and finding no physical injuries except for his right palm. It was wrapped in a bandage, and upon undoing it, Harry couldn't find any injury on it; except for the fact that there was a curious burn slashing across his fingers. Well, it could simply add to his collection of scars.
Physically, he still felt weak, as though he'd just been through intensive training for three days straight without food, but he quickly dismissed the fact and got up to get dressed. Perhaps an icy blast of water would help him recall his hazy memories of what had happened before he was knocked unconscious.
Ten minutes later, Harry was still frowning, trying to remember the events of what seemed to him, an eternity ago, but all he could remember was breaking out of the Hogwarts blood wards, before passing out in front of his father. Well, that was humiliating... but he supposed he could live with that. There was a niggling feeling that he was forgetting something important, but try as he might, he couldn't quite well remember.
There was a silent knock on the door. Harry sighed; there were only two people he could expect- Lucius and his father, Voldemort... who never knocked. So that narrowed it down to the former.
"Enter," Harry called out.
Indeed, Lucius entered a few moments later, carrying a tray full of potions, the sight causing Harry to smile slightly despite himself.
"You know, for a Death- Eater, you could certainly pass as a Healer at the moment," Harry smirked.
Lucius stopped. "Don't tell me, you've fully recovered by yourself all over again?"
"You make it sound as though it's a bad thing," Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Anyway, as much as I loathe to admit, I'm not completely healed yet... so the potions are still welcome, if you'll leave them on the table."
"I trust you can tell which is which," Lucius said with a slight smile as he laid the tray on the table. "Would you like to go downstairs for breakfast or shall I bring up a tray for you, Prince?"
Harry scowled at the familiar but distinctly unwelcome title. "No need, I'm not incapicated."
"Of course," Lucius bowed and turned to leave, before adding, "For your information, I know it's quite unbelievable for you... but you've been out for three days. Your body should take time to recuperate, longer than the usual... so don't do anything rash."
Harry narrowed his eyes at this, but Lucius offered no further explaination before he left Harry's room.
xXx
It was when Harry was in the middle of a huge breakfast, with much less appetite, completely alone that the name 'Bellatrix' flashed across his mind and instantly triggered the recall of his memories for the past three days. A cold feeling settled down over him as he remembered Potter's confession, the Daily Prophet in the library, how Potter had found him out, how Voldemort had stormed to Hogwarts to bring him back, how is scar had hurt him with such pain whenever he tried to continue his search for the answers.
His father knew he was trying to pursue the truth, that was why the Dark Lord attacked the castle... or rather, he would have- if not for Harry rushing out through the barriers immediately, just so Voldemort wouldn't forge ahead with Harry's plans and kill all the castle inhabitants in the process.
Harry instantly felt nauseous; he racked up his brains and tried to think of an excuse to give his father when the time came, yet there were none that sounded plausible. He had given his word that he would not try and dig further into the matter, but he had gone back on it.
But Voldemort himself hadn't been completely truthful with Harry either... there were too many plot holes, too many unfitting puzzles... Bellatrix's death, his stay at Hogwarts, his being placed under the Imperius Curse... none of those fit into Potter's story, nor the Daily Prophet's article. And Voldemort had been furious, frantic even- at snatching him back once his thoughts started to question his father's truthfulness...
A vague pain shot through his scar, enough to make Harry gasp, but that was the worst of it. Stunned, Harry sat back and waited for the next onslaught of pain, but felt... nothing. Previously, only a minor traitorous thought would be enough to inflict such pain on himself he had been driven to his knees in agony... now, somehow, the bond was weaker.
Harry waited a little longer at the breakfast table, before returning to his room- and later, the training grounds... yet Voldemort never sent for him. He didn't know whether he ought to feel relieved or anxious at the thought, but Harry was not going to meet the confrontation a little earlier than when he had to, so he did not venture down to Voldemort's study.
He did not see Lucius for the entire morning as well, and since he was not allowed outside his own Wing in the manor, there was little left for Harry to do except wander around aimlessly, contemplating, being bored and physically drained for more training. When noon came and there was still no sign of his father, Harry began to grow restless.
The next time he saw Lucius, he needed to question the man...
xXx
"Lucius, if I can have a word?"
The eldest Malfoy turned around, surprised, before his eyes rested on the dark, unfamiliar figure standing at the entrance of the Riddle Manor. A tall balding wizard with purple eyes. Lucius hid a smile at the odd combination of colour.
"Of course," he replied, on recognising the deeper- pitched voice. He nodded once to Avery, motioning for the man to move on ahead, before doubling back in the direction of the taller wizard. They took a short- cut route back to Harry's Wing across the gardens, before sealing their entrance with magic once more. As soon as they were back on the grounds, Harry let his glamour drop, his face growing young once more.
"What is the matter of such urgency, Prince?" Lucius asked as they strode together towards Harry's training grounds. "Despite your disguise, it was still rather risky to hail me out there in the presence of other Death- Eaters."
Harry waved his hand dismissively. "They would never have guessed," he said confidently. "What I want to know, Lucius, is what exactly happened after I passed out on the other side of the barriers? And how did that happen?"
Well, Lucius could answer those questions safely. "After you fainted," Lucius began, "the Dark Lord immediately called for the Death- Eaters to regroup and retreat back to Riddle Manor; we'd already got you. The Dark Lord Apparated you back to the manor himself. As for how it happened... that was the question I was going to ask you. I thought you told me you were absolutely certain that no harm would befall on you should you force your way through the barriers?"
"I was sure of it when I completed my plans for the blood wards. I was influenced by the Imperius Curse at that time, as Dumbledore used me to create the barriers for him, but that shouldn't have hindered me. The barriers couldn't have been the reason for my low magic levels..." Harry paused a while before he stopped dead in his tracks. Lucius turned around to have a proper look at him, before noticing with a rising sense of panic that Harry's eyes had grown dark... not a complete merciless black, but a deep forest green nevertheless.
"Prince?" Lucius asked hesitantly.
"Don't tell me his magic is running through me," Harry suddenly hissed, his tone fierce.
"Whose magic?" Lucius asked, although he already had a sinking feeling that he knew who. There was only one person that could make Harry grow so angry at the mere mention of him...
"James Potter," Harry spat, his eyes livid.
Oh no... Harry had caught on quicker than he'd thought.
Briefly, Lucius considered lying... but there was no point, since Harry was almost certain of the truth. Besides, it was not like the information was harmful in any way. "You were dying, Prince... your magic levels were stripped to barely above zero. Your health was deteriorating with each day that passed, and your father was desperate... so was I. The Dark Lord knew that the only way to save you was to donate magic of identical cores... and he'd already captured Potter the week before."
"Really?" Harry countered, sounding disbelieving. "Can you show me the memory of it, then?"
Lucius paused, instantly on guard... when had Harry been this openly distrustful, in front of him nevertheless? After mentally assessing the memory and finding nothing suspicious in it, Lucius allowed Harry to view it, putting it in his forefront mind so that Harry, with his somewhat junior Legilimency skills could still access it. Of course, he had purposefully blocked out a few sentences, like when Voldemort had threatened Draco.
A few seconds passed in silence, before Harry blinked, seemingly back in reality.
"Thanks, Lucius," he said, sounding relieved. "for telling the truth."
"Of course, Prince."
Lucius bowed and walked away, a niggling feeling of doubt in the back of his mind.
xXx
Unbeknownst to Lucius, Harry had already picked up on a seemingly unobvious clue from Lucius' memory, from the conversation between said Death- Eater and Voldemort himself.
Send for Potter, Lucius... it is time that Potter repaid his debt.
What kind of debt had Voldemort been referring to? Was it merely a reference to Harry's abusive childhood, or had it been something else? And if Potter had indeed donated his magic to him, had Potter survived the transfusion as well? He hadn't thought to ask Lucius at that moment; it hadn't seemed important then. But now he couldn't help but wish he had an answer...
He had been wandering around in the main chamber by himself, when suddenly his foot stepped on something- a floorboard that sounded hollow. Curiously, Harry removed his foot and cast a charm on it to reveal what it was hiding. It was a strong curse, but not beyond Harry to break. Seconds later, he found himself staring at a wooden trapdoor, with the carving of a snake upon it.
Without quite realizing what he was doing, Harry stared at it, and subconsciously whispered in Parseltongue, "Open."
Damien was in the middle of finishing his lamb steak and mashed potatoes- the dish he couldn't help but remember had been a useful source of annoyance for Kit during his short stay at Hogwarts. He had made up a story about him confronting Draco about his allegiance, as he didn't believe that Malfoy would be allowed to return to Hogwarts safely after betraying the Dark Lord at Hogsmeade a month ago. The youngest Potter, however, was not that good in manipulating his own emotions and expressions, hence stirring suspicion within his friends while uttering the Dark Lord's name with such a carefree and relaxed smile, before he suddenly remembered the situation was very grave and hastened to look serious.
He could tell none of his friends really bought his lousy lie, but it was worth while- it bought him time. And perhaps, during that time, he could persuade Draco to change his mind. After all, the more brains working on this matter, the better.
Draco's words kept haunting him throughout the class as he puzzled over the Slytherin's words. What version of Dumbledore's had Malfoy meant? And what exactly had been in the letter from Lucius? How was that going to help Draco prove whether Harry's plan was intentional or not, and even so- then what? Would that bring them any closer to revealing Harry for who he was, and making him understand the truth again? Would this be just another painful circle of fate?
Lunch provided no distraction, and Damien gave up trying to catch Draco's eye. It was a bit too risky and suspicious especially after this morning's episode, and the Slytherin was clearly avoiding all eye contact anyway.
When dinner came, Damien was already so jumpy he couldn't wait for after curfew to meet with Draco and ask him about the letter. Even as the dinner bell rang, Damien had already raced down from the Transfiguration classroom and waited outside the castle, hiding behind the pillars as he muttered a Notice- Me- Not charm and waited for Draco to return from the dungeons.
Draco's last class happened to be double Potions with the Gryffindors, therefore Damien knew where to find him. He only hoped that Ron and Hermione wouldn't see him and lead him back to the castle before he found Malfoy.
He was fortunate that day. Draco was one of the few students that chose to leave the dungeons early, and Draco was walking alone towards the doors of the Great Hall when Damien caught him. The other students from the Potions class were either still held back at the dungeons or were far behind, chatting idly as they slowly made their way back to the castle.
"Malfoy, I'm not waiting for after curfew," Damien told him, stepping out of the shadows. "Can you just show me the letter now and explain it?! I've almost been driven insane by so many questions haunting my mind!"
Draco lifted a corner of his mouth at this, as though it were a half- mocking smile. Damien couldn't tell.
"Perhaps then," Draco agreed at last, "After all, Dumbledore won't be around this time either... in fact, this is a better idea."
Predictably, Malfoy did not elaborate further on the matter. But Damien held his tongue as they trooped back to the castle, one front and one back to give the impression that they weren't walking together. He would have his answers soon enough... at least, some of them.
Once they were inside the empty classroom once more, Draco snapped up the Silencing charm and locked the doors before producing the long roll of somewhat crumpled parchment, which was supposed to be Lucius' reply. Wordlessly, Draco passed it to the younger wizard.
"But this is Harry's handwriting!" Damien said excitedly, as his eyes scanned through the many words that made little or no sense to him. "How could have your father got this? And what exactly is this about?"
"It's Harry's plans, the ones he used to build the blood wards," Draco told him, plucking the parchment out of Damien's grasp neatly. "Clearly, Harry was the one that invented it, and he sent them over to Dumbledore for the Headmaster to shield the Hogwarts students. What I suspect is that, Harry sent the original version to Dumbledore, and left behind a modified copy for himself."
"What modified copy?" Damien asked, confused.
"It's just a theory," Draco said evasively, "We still need proof. Time is running short, it's dinner in around three minutes. Once we get Dumbledore's copy of these plans, I'll explain everything to you. I promise."
Damien thought of arguing further, but paused at the word 'promise'. To hear a Slytherin giving his word... well, that was rare.
"You'd better," Damien said at last, extremely grumpily. "So now... what's the plan?"
Draco paced up and down the classroom, thinking. "Those plans are an important source of information, so Dumbledore might and might not have them," he said. "However, judging by his eccentric and paranoid personality, I would guess that he does have at least one copy hidden in his office."
Damien swallowed. "I don't much like the idea of breaking into Dumbledore's office, of all people," he said. "There's still his pet phoenix, Fawkes, and the portraits will see us and tell him! Not to mention the Sorting Hat."
"The Sorting Hat can't actually see us nor our thoughts unless you put it on," Draco dismissed, "and although Fawkes will see us, I highly doubt it will speak nor report our actions to Dumbeldore. It is an ancient creature born of magic, not a surveillance tool. And as for the portraits... well, I'll be under a Disillusionment charm and you..."
"I... do actually have an Invisibility Cloak," Damien admitted somewhat grudgingly. "So count me in your plan."
Draco looked somewhat surprised at this revelation. "A real one, you say? Not a cloak with a flimsy Charm on it?"
"No. I'll be completely invisible, even more so than you, so don't worry," Damien replied, wondering for the umpteenth time whether trusting Draco was a wise idea. "So your plan is to enter his office while we're invisible, blindfold and silence and portraits then search for the plans? You know, that's not a very brilliant one. Why not we just write to my father instead? He's bound to help."
Draco frowned. "We can't afford to wait long, it'll take a shorter time if we break into Dumbledore's office. Not to mention the fact I don't think Dumbledore shared that information with all the Order members in general. And what if your father tells Dumbledore about this? We're not supposed to be able to use Hedwig to send letters."
"If I tell dad not to, he won't," Damien said confidently.
The elder Slytherin thought about this for a moment before saying, "We'll break into Dumbledore's office first. If we don't succeed, we send Hedwig."
"Does your plan on how we break into his office stand?" Damien asked, barely hiding a wince. "And what's the password to Dumbledore's office?"
Draco straightened at this. "Where is Peeves?"
xXx
Peeves was prowling around the second floor corridor when he heard suspicious shuffling noises. He immediately whirled around, and to his satisfaction, he caught sight of a shimmering patch of air somewhere to his right.
As if on cue, a shrill voice immediately broke the previous silence.
"Oh no!" squealed a voice in falsetto. "He's spotted you! Run! We'll try to shake him off!"
Peeves grinned at this. Shake him off? Not going to happen.
With a sinister cry of delight, he zoomed after the racing shimmering patch of air, which headed down the corridors, up another flight of stairs. The student was deadly fast, and sometimes when he was just about to corner said 'patch of air', the shimmer disappeared completely. It was with this progress that both Peeves and Draco arrived at Dumbledore's office, in front of the gargoyle.
Beneath the Invisiblity Cloak, Damien immediately whispered, "Alohomora!" and the office door opened with an audible click. Next came a gust of wind, presumably cast by Draco, and the door to Dumbledore's office was flung wide open. The stone gargoyles outside immediately leapt to attention, glancing around, but there was no one in sight; and nothing tried to pass the entrance they guarded.
Peeves, however, immediately jumped to the most obvious conclusion and went hurtling down the corridor, cackling evilly, "Students breaking into Dumble's office! Students breaking into Dumble's office!"
Minutes later, as expected, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall appeared round the corner, wands aloft.
"Phoenix pudding!" Dumbledore told the gargoyles, which leapt aside. He and the Deputy Headmistress then proceeded to stride up the staircase towards the double doors, which were flung wide open by Draco's conjured wind.
For a moment, neither dared to move, then-
"Phoenix pudding?" Draco hissed incredulously beside Damien's invisible ear.
"I would never have thought of that myself," Damien admitted.
xXx
Five minutes later, Professor McGonagall was convinced that it was merely a prank on Peeves' part, and both she and Professor Dumbledore had left back for the Great Hall.
"Remember, the Charm is Obscuro," Draco told Damien again, as they crouched down the corridor in the shadows, both now clearly visible. "Direct it at as many portraits as possible, and whatever you do don't let your Cloak slip. We'll be remaining invisible for the entire time just in case someone sees us. Agreed?"
"Yes," Damien answered shortly. There really wasn't anything else to say. It seemed as though there were a lot of things he ought to remember to do and not to do, and working with Draco Malfoy of all people to break into Dumbledore's office seemed bizarre to him. Even more bizarre then when he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny broke into the museum to help Harry steal and destroy the Golden Quill, one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. It seemed like ages ago, now that he came to reflect on it. So much had happened.
"Then we enter on the count of three. Stay close behind, Potter."
With a flick of his wand, Draco flickered once more out of visible spectrum, and there was nothing left but a shimmering patch of air. Damien hastened to put on his cloak, noting with satisfaction that he was clearly more invisible than the elder wizard was.
Draco then approached the stone gargoyle, who seemed to be dozing off again. "Phoenix pudding," he said clearly, trying not to picture the dessert. Or was it even considered a type of dessert?
The gargoyle groaned slightly and allowed him passage, Damien following closely behind.
"You know, it would be easy to figure out who broke into his office," Damien whispered to Draco, a little belatedly he realized. "By blindfolding and silencing the portraits, they're bound to tell Dumbledore someone broke into his office... and since we're the only few if not ones who skipped dinner tonight, Professor Dumbledore is bound to make the connection."
"But he won't be able to catch us, nor prove it," Draco answered in a satisfied tone. "And that is all that matters."
"Really?" Damien sounded skeptical. Nevertheless, they had already arrived at the spiral staircase. As they stepped forwards, they were slowly transported up from the landing into Dumbledore's circular office.
Immediately after they reached the top, Draco was already moving, casting spells non- verbally. Some of the portraits who were sound asleep never even woke up. There were few outrageous cries, but Damien soon helped to silence them as well.
"I guess that was the hard part done," Damien said neutrally.
"No, Potter, it's just about to start," Draco said flatly. "Any suggestions on where should we start looking for it?"
"We can always try the desk first," Damien said, approaching the familiar wooden table where Dumbledore always sat behind in the few visits Damien paid to the Headmaster's office. Out of the corner of his eye, he could sense Fawkes stir on its perch, but he didn't dare look at it.
"Are you sure that phoenix will not report on us?" Damien mumbled, half- distractedly rifling through the rolls of parchment scattered around Dumbledore's table.
Draco didn't reply; he was busy running spells over a large antique wardrobe at the other end of the office. It was then when it hit Damien with a start- he realized with a sudden jolt the parchment he was holding actually bore... Harry's handwriting.
"Malfoy."
There was no reply.
"Malfoy. Draco. I found it."
It was only then when the Slytherin turned around, still under the Disillusionment Charm, but it was fading visibly. Damien supposed it drained a lot of one's strength.
Wordlessly, Draco approached the younger boy and ran a finger down the parchment. Sure enough, it was Harry's handwriting... and it was the exact plans detailing the formation of the Blood Wards. Draco seemingly had a better idea about what to look for, and within minutes, there was a triumphnat hiss somewhere to Damien's right, causing the youngest Potter to jump.
"Can you stop doing that hissing noise!" Damien whispered, rather loudly. "It's creepy when you actually sound like a snake!"
"I'm not a Parselmouth, Potter," Draco's disembodied voice spoke. "But as usual, that's not the main point. I've found it, I was right about it all along... though where did you find it?"
There was a sudden change of tone in the Slytherin's voice as he spoke, and Damien couldn't help but feel a slight stir of alarm. "Just on the desk... the first parchment. Why?"
"It couldn't have been there, unless it was expected... but no, that wouldn't be right either..."
Damien held his tongue, though he was inches from demanding what Draco meant by that. He had spent enough time conversing with the elder Slytherin to know that asking questions only meant delayed answers. Nevertheless, it was still quite a big shock for Damien when Draco suddenly spoke, "Homenum revelio!" and Damien felt a weird pulling sensation surrounding him.
Nothing else happened.
"What did you do that for?" Damien demanded, despite himself.
"Sorry Potter, once again- explain later. Now get out of here."
Draco gave a hefty shove in Damien's general direction just to get the point across.
"As though you're ever sorry," Damien muttered under his breath even as he quickly exited the office, Draco following behind him.
Riddle Manor
The trapdoor opened with a pneumatic hiss, which echoed down into the eerie depths of the chamber below. Harry reached into his robes and tossed a Knut down to estimate the depth, before jumping downwards.
He landed lightly in pitch darkness. Instantly, Harry recognized his father's magic; it was woven everywhere, which also was the source of the black fog that surrounded the entire area. His curiousity perked; what could it be his father was trying to hide?
Then something huge behind him lunged. Instinctively, Harry ducked out of the way and grabbed the creature's head tightly within his right fist, swinging it around to face him.
He was met with a large familiar cobra, which was struggling vehemently against his iron grip.
"Nagini?" Harry hissed, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I apologise, young Prince, I did not realize it was you entering," the snake told him, rearing backwards as Harry released her completely from his grasps. "I thought you were an intruder."
"But why are you here? Why aren't you with father?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes.
The snake paused for a moment, before answering, "I was ordered to guard this place."
"Where is this place, then?" Harry tried a different approach, edging around the cobra, but Nagini immediately reared up again, as though to prevent him from entering.
"No, young Prince, you must not enter. Master has forbidden all entry."
"His general orders don't usually apply to me," Harry assured her, although inwardly his suspicion was beginning to stir. "Or... did he specifically tell you to prevent me from entering?"
A look at the snake's somewhat dismayed expression told Harry his answer, and his heart sank. Voldemort was indeed keeping things from him; if there had been no reason to doubt his father's words before, now there was. For he could tell that this was related to the incident in which he was supposedly Imperiused by Dumbledore last year... his scar had begun to flare up with earnest, as it had never done the entire time he had spent in Riddle Manor so far.
But entry to what? As far as Harry was concerned, he could make out a vague shape of a white wall just behind Nagini; there seemed to be nothing more to it.
Well, if Voldemort didn't allow him to find out, then he'd just have to take a look from a distance.
He pretended to pause, before suddenly reaching out with a blast of magic, clearing a huge hole through Voldemort's thick black fog. A jet of brilliant light errupted from his wand, lighting up the tunnel. Immediately, with an almighty roar, a tide of flame came thundering towards where he and Nagini stood, causing the snake to hiss in alarm, but Harry remained completely unmoved.
Your fear will only come to pass if you allow it to become real.
It was ironic that he was using what his father himself had taught him to go against Voldemort. The wall of flames approached nearer and nearer; he could feel the intense heat rising from the wall. He cast a look at Nagini, then noticed that Voldemort had cast an invisible protection cage around her; it glowed a faint gold when the flames came near her. Then, as abruptly as it begun, the flames died down, leaving nothing but a wooden door before them... even the previous black smoke obscuring the place had disappeared.
Harry approached the door, his heart beating fast. It looked familiar, painfully so- he remembered staring at the other side of the door, praying for night to come for long, dreary hours. He remembered looking back for the last time, leaving that door leading to the kitchen closed behind him, escaping with Nagini out into the woods...
"...this place, this place was the woods," Harry murmured, the revelation somehow slowly taking form in his brain, but a part of him couldn't quite believe it. "And the green flames in the middle of the woods, how I came to find father..."
His gaze darted down the black corridor, and light filled his vision, driving away the darkness. There, far at the other end of the corridor- which happened to be a dead end, was a small fireplace, just enough for his younger self to enter.
He told himself his thoughts were completely absurd; he wouldn't have believed it for a moment. If not for the fact that his scar was flaming up with such intensity again, he could feel droplets of blood sliding down his face.
While Voldemort had thought that by causing Harry physical pain might prevent him from finding out the truth, the charm was a double edged blade; pain now taught Harry to recognise the truth.
As Harry stepped closer, Nagini reared up once more, barring his way completely. "You have come too far," she hissed, and much as Harry was fond of the snake, he knew that no matter what happened, her loyalties would always lie with Voldemort. He chanced another look at the familiar door. He could sense wards cast around it, but this one... he recognised the spellwork to realize he needed the password to enter.
By the light his wand was emitting, Harry could see there was a small golden ornate snake carved into the other side of the door knob. It could have meant nothing, but he thought he felt his scar prickle once more.
The password was in Parseltongue.
"Open," he tried, but nothing happened; the wards around the door still held.
"You are leaving me no choice, young Prince!" Nagini warned once more, but Harry knew she was still holding back... she had no intention to harm him, and he hadn't directly disobeyed orders... he wasn't trying to force entry...
"Lord Voldemort! Death- Eaters! Bellatrix Lestrange! Lucius Malfoy!"
There was no response. Harry forced himself to stay calm and think. This was a more difficult feat for him, as he was anticipating Nagini's attack any moment. Sometimes, the simplest things were the answer...
"Godric's Hollow," he tried, the name foreign on his tongue. Immediately, the wards began to dissipate, and the key on the locked door clicked open, as if inviting him in.
At once, Harry lunged after the door, at the same time Nagini's fangs sank into his arm. Harry's momentum carried him forwards, crashing into the door, Nagini still hanging onto his bleeding, ironically, left forearm.
Both he and the snake went crashing into the doorway, onto the dusty floor. When Harry looked up once more, he was in the exact replica of the Potter's kitchen back at Godric's Hollow.
A/N: Sorry again for the longer than usual wait! :/ I get so easily distracted. Merlin Season 5 was so infuriating! Why couldn't Merlin be friends with Mordred?! If the directors turn Mordred's case to be just like Morgana's, I'm SO going mad. I don't like Merlin in this season, he's so paranoid and I wish he never "grew up". I don't like Mordred's mysteriousness, and Arthur is treating Mordred like his ten year old baby brother. He wasn't even half as nice and protective as he was of Merlin! Plus, Mordred looks almost the same age as Leon.
Sorry, I just needed to vent. This is getting off topic. Thanks so much for reading, and please tell me what you think about it?
About the reveal idea:
I've planned this scene for quite a while; as I always thought that Voldemort must have kept Harry in Riddle Manor all along, just that Harry was under the delusion that he was in Godric's Hollow until he was four years old. Then I noticed that in the Darkness Within, Kurinoone mentioned that Voldemort was shocked that Harry knew about the secret trapdoor, which could only be opened by Parseltongue. Hence my deduction that it was actually the path leading to the fake Godric's Hollow Voldemort built seventeen years ago.
Do leave me a review please ;) and as usual, the rating system is as follows:
:D for amazing/ awesome
'.' for lovely
'O' for okay
'X' for terrible.