Chapter 8 - The Edge of Chaos
You live at the edge of chaos, at the precipice of a disaster. A single event draws forth huge changes in our reality. A slight bend of your wand, a single slip of your feet, a single spell, a slight delay, a rarefied meeting, an eye-opening talk, a revelatory book, even a single unexplanatory arrival of a thought in your mind. Your life will change in unimaginable ways because of a tiny spark at the tip of the ticking bomb that is your life. You have to learn that this change can be beneficial. Growth means change. You cannot grow at the other edge. This change can be disastrous too. You cannot escape it. You will bemoan it, cry about it, be haunted by it. But you can still grow in it. What will you choose, fight or flight? You choose it.
"Hurry, Quirinus – and stun the girl. She seems to have broken the curse," the agitated voice commanded reverberating in the stillness of the area.
Harry couldn't feel his body or locate the searing pain rippling through his mind. He couldn't even move his lips to scream.
"Stupefy!" a stream of red filled his vision as another body fell to the ground.
Harry was forcefully picked up from the ground and carried in haste. His heart was pounding as he was pushed hard against a tall tombstone and tied tightly around it with stiff rough ropes. His vision was blurring due to the scalding pain in his head, and he could barely make out the massive stone cauldron in front of him, bubbling with shimmering water. The heat of the crackling flames beneath it hit him five feet away from it.
Harry was having trouble gathering his thoughts amidst the pain. What was happening? Why was he tied to a tombstone?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bald man pull open the robes. He felt the instinct to recoil, but his body wasn't following it. What was contained in the robes was the most hideous and repulsive snake he had seen. It was very large. Parts of its flesh were swollen and rotting, and had turned black as if someone had burned it. Harry wanted to turn away as the whiff of its rotting odor hit him. This snake – this thing seemed to give off a sinful, diabolic vibe as it moved and hissed excitedly.
Suddenly Harry's body was moving, no thrashing, constrained by the rope as the rippling pain in his scar increased to unbearable proportions, causing tears to stream through his eyes. A terrible, sinking feeling was beginning to dawn in his mind. That thing couldn't be, can't be… He screamed as the body was lowered into the cauldron.
The man then took out a black cloth from his cloak and shoved it into his mouth, before raising his wand towards the cauldron staring at it reverently.
"The piece that was sacrificed, you will recreate what was lost again!"
The shimmering water turned slimy green as if dissolving the skin of the snake that was sunk in the cauldron. Harry gave a muffled roar in agony as the already unbearable pain in his scar intensified. He felt as if someone was ripping apart his skin, trying to cut through his scar using a sharp knife. His vision was blurring, a sudden darkness enveloping his eyes.
The bald wizard was looking at the cauldron in surprise as it trembled in its position. He anxiously raised his wand to start the next step.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. A fine trickle of dust rose into the air at the command and fell softly into the cauldron. The shaking stopped. Harry took a large intake of breath. He had stopped breathing.
The man pulled a long, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice was muffled as he spoke.
"Flesh — of the servant — willingly given — you will — revive — your master."
Harry watched horrified as the man cut through the index finger on his right hand without hesitation, and let it fall into the cauldron. He writhed on the ground grasping his hand as it spouted bursts of his blood.
The cauldron was now a deep burning red, casting an ominous reddish glow to their surroundings. The man stood up still squirming in pain and approached Harry holding the dagger. Harry wanted to shout, to run, to vanish. He called on his magic to do the impossible now, do the accidental magic that he knew he could perform.
"Blood of the enemy – forcibly taken – you will – resurrect your foe!"
Harry got more desperate as the man came closer walking slowly. Come on! Nothing. He could do nothing as the man slashed his right arm with the dagger. Blood was flowing freely from it, and the man took out a vial from his cloak with his left hand and collected the blood in it.
The man turned away and moved towards the cauldron. Help! Somebody help me!
A thought arose in Harry's mind as his eyes traveled to the place he was slashed. He started brushing his ring finger urgently with his thumb.
The cauldron was emitting flashing sparks now illuminating the dark surroundings letting out crackling sounds. The bald man was on his knees looking spellbindingly at the container.
Harry was holding the ring between the tips of his fingers and thumbs. Filled with desperation and sudden hope, he flicked the ring towards the cauldron, willing it fiercely to do something, anything.
Steam gushed forth from the container which obscured everything from view. It's gone wrong, he thought. It's drowned… it's dead… please, please let it be dead.
But his heart lurched when, through the steam, he saw a dark silhouette of a tall, thin man, and the pain in his scar renewed to a torturous degree. A hollow menacing laugh echoed in the graveyard.
"Pass me my robes, Quirinus." Every part of Harry was screaming at him to run, to flee from the being that emerged from the steam wearing the black robes.
"You have done well, Quirinus," he spoke in a smooth soft voice, yet which carried an iron tinge penetrating to the depth of his mind coercing a sense of compliance and submission. "Perhaps we can forgive your failure in retrieving the Philosopher's Stone. Give me your wand."
In a distant location, two wise old wizards were drinking together in a shady looking pub in a small magical village. The atmosphere showed total contrast to the graveyard.
"That young couple didn't know who I was. They thought I was you," Aberforth laughed. "I told them, 'How it warms my heart to see such young couples sharing such a magical moment.' I felt very strange, like an old fart, but I knew that's what weird old farts say. On an inspiration, I added, 'It brings back memories of those wondrous nights in my youth, full of joy, pleasure, and – what do they say now, yeah, some randiness. Why, you remind me precisely of myself,' I said looking pointedly at the girl in a frilly pink dress wearing ribbons in her hair," he said now laughing wildly. "I have never seen someone look so horrified, not even when facing Death Eaters. I haven't seen those two here again," he said between gasps.
Albus Dumbledore shared the amusement of his younger brother. "It's a wonder they consider me mad, although I perhaps would have said something similar," he said joining the laugh taking a sip of his firewhiskey.
They were silent for a minute except for the occasional laugh escaping both of the wizards.
"Abe, this is life. This is the magic that everyone wants to learn. The magic that you cannot learn alone. People want to learn spells to enchant things, they want to brew potions to become powerful, they want to control everything around them," he scoffed. "They have ambitions of becoming someone grand, doing something momentous that causes everyone to look in awe, raising them to the throne that they deserve to be. Everyone thinks like that, and everybody knows it. They will work arduously to achieve that, forcing themselves to move forward, always carrying a nagging feeling of doubt, of an uncertainty. Why do we never pay heed to it? Why do we ignore the only things that are important in life? Why do we never teach these things, Abe?"
Aberforth put his hand on his shoulders to provide comfort. Albus came to his pub every week to visit him. They would sometimes just talk for long nights walking along the grounds of Hogwarts, sometimes they would visit a place from their past, and sometimes, on his demand, have some drinks. He knew that Albus treasures this time. No matter how much work he had to do for all the organizations that he worked for, he always made time for it. Occasionally, he would find his brother's eyes on his saying so much, full of sorrow for instances long in the past, but forever imprinted in their memories. Albus may never have forgiven himself, but Aberforth had long since forgiven him. Aberforth always scoffed when he heard someone describe his brother. He had heard him described as a powerful mysterious old wizard, or a cunning and ambitious sorcerer holding many key positions of power, or a manipulative leader controlling everything around him, or even a dark lord in disguise. Every one of them was wrong.
His brother was a very simple man who did everything in his power to the right thing. And if anyone in this world could be trusted to do the right thing, Aberforth could imagine no one better than Albus Dumbledore.
"Come now, you old fart, don't be such a bore. It's your turn to tell a story. It's always me who carries such evenings."
"I am certain that you wouldn't have it any other way. But, I do seem to recall an amusing story. Have I told you about some goats and what a man did to them?" Albus said, a twinkle reaching his eyes.
"Your nose is looking better today. Do you want me to remedy it?"
"Oh, so you have heard," Albus said laughing. "I am certain that you'd also like the story of why Minerva had to buy Harry Potter a dog."
"Really? That I have to hear."
They were both interrupted by a luminous translucent doe that flew past the wall they were sitting beside.
"Headmaster," came the soft voice of Severus Snape, "the dark mark started burning black unexpectedly." And then the doe disappeared in a thin wisp of cloud.
The two brothers looked intensely at each other before the younger one gulped the remaining of his firewhiskey and said, "The patronus of Severus Snape is a doe?"
"Aberforth!" Albus admonished.
"Ok, ok. Shit!"
Just then, the entrance door was pushed open, and a harried-looking Arabella Figg entered the empty pub.
"There you are, Albus! I've been looking for you everywhere!" she said fiercely.
"Not now, Arabella. There are more pressing matters."
"Harry has gone missing!"
There was silence in the pub before the younger brother said, "Bummers."
Albus suddenly got out of his chair, and in a flash of fire, a phoenix appeared near them.
"Aberforth, get the old crowd together."
He whirled his wand and a silvery phoenix appeared. He said to it, "Severus, contact Lucius." And it disappeared through the walls.
"Arabella, think of where Harry was seen last… We couldn't have chosen a more inopportune time to drink together," he said holding her hand.
Aberforth emptied the rest of Albus' glass too.
Lord Voldemort was currently laughing loudly as he examined his new body sending waves of terror into Harry with each passing moment.
"Master! Master, you are strong again," said the bald man holding his hand tightly with an ecstatic laugh.
"Yes, Quirinus. You have done well. You will be rewarded beyond your dreams," he said giving him a wide disturbing smile.
"Thank you, my lord, you are very generous," he said bowing deeply. "Shall I kill the boy for you, my lord?"
"No! Harry Potter will die by my hands… but I must have witnesses to see the defeat of the boy-who-lived by my hands. It's a shame you don't have a dark mark, and that I might need you at Hogwarts."
Harry was shivering as he looked at the person responsible for his parent's death. A person so evil that people were afraid of uttering his name. Voldemort was looking at him with a cruel smile, which was like being hunted by death itself.
"I am afraid, Harry, you must wait for a little before I kill you. I hope you don't mind," Voldemort said mocking him. Harry still had the black cloth padded into his mouth. Even if Harry could have spoken, he didn't think he would have had the capacity to do so. He was utterly terrified of what was happening.
He walked up to Lyanna's body and waved the wand he was holding at her. She stirred from her position and looked at her surroundings in confusion. She scrambled back on seeing Voldemort's face falling on her back again.
"Lyanna Traymere! What a blessing you've been for us. Without you, capturing our friend Harry here would have been an unpleasant endeavor, protected by the extensive wards at his house, and under the watchful gaze of that muggle-loving fool, Albus Dumbledore, at Hogwarts," said the cold voice.
Lyanna was gaping at Voldemort, and her eyes widened at seeing Harry Potter bound to the tombstone.
"Lord Voldemort does not forget who helped him, even if it was done unknowingly. You are pure of blood, and I am in need of a Death Eater. I find myself interested in how you would respond to this offer. How deeply had Dumbledore ingrained his ideals into today's wizards' souls, I wonder," Voldemort said looking Lyanna in the eyes.
"You are no lover of Dumbledore, I see. That indeed does you favor … But I am disappointed by the sympathy I see for Harry Potter… Resistance is futile Lyanna – no occlumency shields will hold against me."
Lyanna was silent for a while before she spoke. "Forgive me, my lord. I hold no devotion to Harry Potter. I will gladly submit to your will and become a Death Eater."
"Lies! I can see doubt in your eyes. I can see the fear in you. You think you can lie to me," he said raising his wand. "I am Lord Voldiiiii!" his breath hitched at the end as he came to a screeching halt.
Time stopped.
Voldemort was holding his neck, and looking around fearfully. His gaze landed on Harry as everyone looked at him with a shocked expression.
"What is this trickery, boy?" he said looking at his trembling form bound tightly around the tombstone, incapable of making any noise. He closed his eyes for a few seconds spreading his fingers and pointing them to his head.
"You think you can fight against Lord Voldemort! You dare to use such trickery against me! Cruci-" His wand flew out of his hands and fell a few feet away from him.
Every heart started beating faster. Voldemort moved to pick the wand but stumbled on the way.
"Master! My lord, are you alright?" said the bald man, hurrying towards his master as he picked the wand.
"Stand aside! I do not need your help! Crucio!"
The man shrieked and writhed on the floor. Harry was sure his voice could be heard from the village. Please let someone hear it.
Voldemort was looking quite pleased with himself for having tortured someone who he was previously talking about rewarding.
"I must confess I didn't think that I would be quite so frail in my new body, or it would need some time to adapt to it," he said turning to him.
The black cloth muffled Harry's screams as the pain in his head intensified under his penetrating gaze.
"You are not doing anything, are you, boy. You know no magic… Pathetic. And the world thinks this boy caused my downfall. Ridiculous!" He started raising his wand towards Harry but stopped midway. Harry noticed that his hands were shaking slightly.
"Girl! Tell me your answer. Choose your words carefully – your life may depend on it."
Lyanna looked alarmed for a few moments before bowing down on her knees. "My lord, I would be honored to be a Death Eater. Any fondness you see towards Harry Potter is false, created by the constant preaching of the legend of the boy who lived, just as your legend inspires devotion to you. But as I stand here now, watching Harry Potter helpless against Lord Voldemort who has miraculously returned from the dead as powerful as ever, there is no question in my mind where my loyalties should lie."
"Excellent! You believe what you just said. But I am sure that given the choice, you would not prefer this way… But you will learn better. Listen carefully girl, I demand eternal devotion from you. Your own life is forfeit and you live in the service of your master. And in return, I will reward your efforts beyond your imagination. I ask once more, are you willing for this level of commitment?" he said in the same soft voice which seemed to carry the undercurrents of danger and mortal threat.
Lyanna was silent for a moment. She looked at him in the eyes and said, "I am willing, my lord. I await your command… master."
Voldemort marched forward and raised her clutching her shoulders. Giving her a cold smile, he commanded, "Kill Harry Potter."
Harry saw the back of her shoulders slump before she turned to him slowly. Harry didn't recognize the look in her eyes, even though they had lost their previous glassy look. She hesitated for a moment before moving towards him. Tears were forming in her eyes as she took in his beaten appearance and the futile situation, but she trudged on.
"You know why I have to do this, Harry. I am really sorry."
Harry was looking frightfully at her, wishing for some way, any way to make him escape. He struggled against the ropes that bound him, as he tried to say desperately to her, help me.
Lyanna looked at him for long moments. She began raising her wand. Some part of Harry which hadn't already deserted him in fright thought he recognized something in her eyes, the fight she was having with herself as she pointed her wand at his chest. She shouted, "Portu –"
"Avada Kedavra!" words were said at a blistering speed before she had even started to cast her spell, followed by a flash of green light, and Lyanna was blasted back from the impact.
A cold maniacal laugh echoed in the graveyard sending shivers to Harry's very bones. He didn't understand what was happening. Blinded by the flaring pain in his scar, he could barely see the slender figure lying a few feet away from him.
No, it couldn't be… This wasn't how this was supposed to go. A muffled howl escaped Harry; tears falling freely from his face.
Suddenly, the laughter stopped. Lyanna had groaned and was still breathing. Voldemort stared wide-eyed at her movement. He looked at the wand in his hand, and Harry could see his shock.
He gave a searching look through the area carefully. He stared at Harry's eyes for long painful moments, and his eyes widened.
"Interesting. You think such a minor interference could affect the ritual. A ritual I designed." He gave another cold laugh.
He closed his eyes and moved his wand in a circular arc above his head. In a deep voice, he smoothly intoned, "Exoticum Spiritum Excidio." A high-pitched scream came from within Voldemort as he opened his mouth. A blue smoky vapor exuded from it. It rose high above them and condensed to form the shape of a child. A child with blue skin, wearing a professional attire, and a cowboy hat. It was also wearing yellow shiny goggles and had green lightning bolt marks on both of his cheeks.
Voldemort studied the poltergeist. "A beautiful aspect of magic. It could have been so useful." He shook his head and thrust his wand towards it.
The poltergeist shrieked as gashes appeared on his body as if it was being slashed by a sword.
"Anima Crepitus!" Voldemort shouted and gave another thrust of his wand.
Its body started bloating and with a loud bang, it exploded into black smoke.
Harry felt all his hopes deserting him. He couldn't see any way for him to escape. He just wished for Lyanna to survive this.
The bald man was now sitting on the ground staring at the spectacle in awe. Voldemort turned towards Harry and he felt the terror that he realized that in some way had haunted him his whole life.
"You think the poltergeist would have found that amusing, Harry? Would he find this amusing?" He raised the wand towards him and shouted "Crucio!"
Pain. Sheer pain. All he could feel was pain. It stopped after what felt like minutes. "No, it isn't amusing." The padded cloth in Harry's mouth was snatched by an invisible force. "Now it will be. Crucio!"
The sound of Harry's screams was dwarfed by the cold maniacal laugh of Lord Voldemort.
A/N: Oh no! Poor Harry. But Voldemort is not called the most powerful dark lord for nothing. Things look bleak. Voldemort looks to be back in form. Dumbledore is searching for Harry. What will happen next? How would the wizarding world react? Let me know what you think in the textbox below. It would take just seconds of your time and would make me very happy.