A Wizard Torn
The last of Harry's scream died, and the wizard was left panting at the momentary reprieve.
Orange light streamed in from outside, hitting the room at odd angles and making the entire room look queer.
"We need candles," said the grey haired man, his arms still out-held as they had been when they had started, not shaking in the slightest. "One in front of each of us and another behind, hurry."
"Kevin," Niklaus ordered, the single word enough to make one of the hybrids who too had become spectators of the ritual move.
The chanting hadn't stopped. It kept in a rhythm, low in volume but the power surging around the room. Harry could feel over his throbbing head. The hybrids were not the only spectators, the witches of Mystic Falls too had made an appearance, most watching Harry with pity as he slumped in his chair, covered with sweat, and panting like a tired dog.
"Please," Harry begged, not for the first time. "Please, help me. Do something, anything," he said raising his head lamely and catching sight of Anna who had her eyes set on the ground. "I beg you."
The grey-haired wizard joined the fray and the pain started anew. It felt like an axe had been cleaved at his heard; the pain was immense, not ceasing as the axe was repeatedly struck again him. Harry screamed, hoping that with the scream he could let out all his anguish. The axe didn't stop, but with each hit on the head it got hotter, burning, Harry felt his head threaten to explode. He thought of dying. Harry wanted death because from it at least he knew it was escape.
The axe stopped. But the throbbing still continued, each throb feeling as though a hammer was being struck at his head. Harry panting, his body trying to draw in as much breath as possible before he suffocated.
The candles had appeared, their flames burning with such intensity that they threatened to burn down the roof.
Harry looked at the fire, desperate to get out, desperate to die, he muttered, "Pyrus Pestis." It didn't work; without his wand the curse which had the potential to destroy the world did nothing. But the pain and Harry's desperation fuelled him. "Pyrus Pestis," he said again, repeating it a mantra that quickly ended as the pain started again.
Harry screamed and within seconds his voice grew hoarse, not that he could feel its pain; the pain in his head was far worse than anything his body felt. "PYRUS PESTIS!" Harry screamed as the axe hit and broke something: two things happened at once, a sheet of white—a shield—appeared in front of Harry while the gilded goblet in the dark-skinned man's hand began to bubble and froth.
The axe stopped but the throbbing didn't, and Harry was forced to watch as suddenly the dark-skinned man rose with motions akin to a puppet and gulped the frothing goblet like a man who had long been parched. He drank it all in one gulp, wiping off the stray rivulets of the red liquid at the corners of his mouth. Then he slumped, clattering on the ground.
The pain was about to start, Harry knew, but he couldn't help realising that none of his magic—he didn't have time to feel surprise at his bout of wandless magic—would work with a shield bound to salt around him.
Harry gathered himself even as he felt the axe coming. "Pestis Desino," Harry grit out, the pain less but still enough that his words took considerable effort. "Pestis Desino," he grit out again holding back the scream begging to erupt. "Pestis Desino," this time his voice was not alone; Anna had said the same words.
"Pestis Desino," Harry and Anna said again. "Pestis Desino," a third voice joined them and Harry felt the magic binding him to the chair snap. He looked up, the witch he had never seen before, but she had minor resemblance to the witch Bonnie Bennet. "Pestis Desino." White flared as the shield stopped the spell. Harry shakily got to his feet, his hands clutching his head in hopes they would hold it back from exploding.
"Pestis Desino," this time Harry's voice was not in the fray, but three witches, Anna, the old woman would looked like Bonnie, and other whose pale skin stood out, were making the spell their own.
"Pestis Desino," they repeated in a chant; but Harry lost all sight with the world. His mind broke against the onslaught; the second cup bubbled and the blonde man awoke as Harry fell to his knees, and drank the frothing liquid.
"PESTIS DESINO!"
The salt around Harry exploded in all directions, the chair around him exploded into rubble; a massive crack echoed as Harry disappeared into thin air.
His head still throbbed much like it had done before, with hammer like blows passing through the darkness and not giving Harry any respite. At least the worst was over; the thought rang through Harry's head, sounding tired even though it was of the mind. Harry heard a voice at the very edge of comprehension, the throbbing becoming more pronounced at intervals.
Harry pushed himself further into the recesses of his own mind, hoping that if he went far enough he would rewarded by some respite. He was rewarded by a cold, numb darkness stretching out on all sides. If Harry had enough presence of mind he would have smiled, but he slept.
The wizard jerked awake, his head whipping around as he took in the room around him; his own room, he noticed. Confusion hit as he tried to piece together how he had gotten here. The memories were hard to come by, blurry in composition and causing his head to throb the deeper he thought about it. But Harry didn't relent, whatever had happened had been traumatising, it was the only reason his mind would shield itself so well that it would forget.
Harry lay back, calming his breathing and hoping to slow his frantically beating heart which was still on alert, ready for a fight. The thought seemed to pull something back: blinding pain, frothing goblets of what looked like blood, two men laying in a salt circle—the highlights of memories stopped, Harry clutching his head as it became to throb what he felt was a familiar sort of throb. One he couldn't get used to, but knew that it had been present for some time that he knew it as an enemy. He rubbed his lightning-bolt scar, the little habit didn't do much in easing the pain, but his hands wanted something to do, particularly his right hand which felt lighter.
Harry felt his heart jump to his throat and this time was on his feet, standing on his bed. His heart thundered against his chest and his head still throbbed, not that he was making matters any better by shaking his head back and forth muttering no under his breath.
It couldn't be, Harry thought. Some part of him wanted of all this to be a dream. All of the blurry memories that seem to come back only to cause his head to hurt even more, to be nothing but hallucinations from a bored mind. Harry jumped down from his bed. Hope rose in him when he thought of hallucinations, when he had been preparing for their attack on Niklaus' house, Harry had used a lot of magic, expanded himself far beyond the measures of normal wizards, maybe this was what happened when you exhausted magic, you hallucinated and had killer headaches.
But the wizard knew he was deluding himself as he searched his room, looked in cupboards and desks for his wand, knowing full well that if he couldn't sense its call then it wasn't in range. Whispered no's were his mantra all through his search which became all the more desperate with each second. He moved rooms, exited his room and moving to the door across to his study; it opened with an audible click. Harry looked through the cupboard with his armour, disturbed his stockpile of brooms, and all the other trinkets in the room, searching mechanically for any sign that his wand could be here. There was none, and Harry's stomach fell at the realisation, as acceptance that he was in it deep, fully hit.
Harry let out a shaky breath, letting the hopelessness wash over him. He had absolutely no idea how he would get out of this one, and this thought was becoming more prominent as a clearer picture about what had happened at the Mikaelson Estate came to him.
When the flashes of memories finally ended and Harry was finally aware of the world around him, he discovered that he was not alone. He knew her, it felt like only yesterday that he had stunned the dark-haired girl who stood leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed; she watched him intently and Harry in kind did the same—more from not feeling any compulsion to do anything than anything else on Harry's part.
"You're still here," said Harry before he remembered he had changed the set-up of the wards to make it harder to get in. He wasn't entirely sure why he had Portkeyed the girl here, but Harry had been fuelled by adrenaline when he had thought it a good idea to send her here, and he had been hoping Bree would be here to keep watch on her until he could interrogate her.
She nodded. "I tried getting out, but something stopped me. Of course you would know that since you're the witch who locked me in here," she said.
The effort to correct her on being a wizard was something Harry couldn't muster. "Your imprisonment was unjust and I apologise," said Harry in a tired voice. "Things didn't go as planned," Harry muttered to himself; three of the four allies he had were gone and the fourth would at this point also believe Harry was dead, he was wandless and his ring missing and most of all two parts had flown the coop if his suspicions were true.
"What plans?" the girl asked.
Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter." He shakily rose to his feet, not from fatigue, but the overwhelming amount of hopelessness he felt. "I need a shower and food," the wizard said stalking out of the room, ignoring the exasperation he saw appear on the girl's face.
"Are you at least going to tell me why I'm here?" she asked. "Or how I got here?"
Harry didn't answer, he entered his room, locked it, then proceeded to have a very long shower—the specifics of how he had spent two weeks (time in which Niklaus had gotten to know Remus) was something Harry still didn't want to think about. After the shower Harry went about cooking, it was lucky that he kept a box of matches in the house because not having magic was an impediment (Harry felt he really missed his wand because when he had the thought, there was a flash of the wand motion and the effect of the Impediment Jinx which ran through his mind) but Harry was hungry, and hunger was a very good motivator. He put a plate in front of the dark-haired woman who had been watching him all through his cooking and took a seat opposite her.
"I'm Harry Potter," said Harry in way of introduction. He needed something to do to pass the time and asking what she had been doing in the Mikaelson Estate was such a thing.
"Hayley," she said. "So you've decided to talk to me, now?"
Harry shrugged. "You haven't spoken to anyone in two weeks; I reckon you need the company."
She stayed quiet, grabbing her fork and playing with her food for a while before deciding to eat. There was an awkward silence between which lasted too long in Harry's opinion and he decided the best thing was to get the ball rolling.
"So, what are you?" he asked, when her brow rose he continued. "I can sense there's magic around you," he said. "But you're obviously not a vampire, so what are you?"
"I'm a werewolf," she answered after a moment's thought. Harry's lips quirked upward, it hadn't been too long since he had last seen a werewolf, but none the less they were the more familiar of magical creatures and was refreshing to see one in Mystic Falls that wasn't turned into a hybrid. "Okay, that smile is sort of creepy," Hayley muttered loud enough for Harry to hear.
"Sorry, sorry. It's just that I've missed werewolves," he said with somewhat of a nostalgic smile. "They're my favourite supernatural species, truth be told."
She looked interested by that, though her interest was a bit veiled as though she were afraid that if Harry knew she was interested he wouldn't answer her next question. "Do you know a lot of werewolves?" she asked.
Harry nodded. "I know a few clans," Harry said. "But they're newbloods. I had to help a few of them with their transformations. I can brew a potion that can ease the pain of transformations," Harry went on, the talking doing well to ease his mind of the thoughts that plagued him. "Did you know that the pain is the only thing that makes the werewolf go feral?" Harry asked, when Hayley shook her head, Harry gave a hearty nod. "Yeah, the pain is so intense that it causes the mind to retreat into itself, letting the animal take control."
"So this potion of yours, it gave these wolves you were working with control?" she asked.
"Some control," said Harry. "As I said, they were newbloods, just barely past three full moons before I found them. But I did leave them half a year's worth of the potion since I'm away and all," he ended. Harry walked to a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, then went and grabbed himself a glass. "How old are you?"
"Twenty," said Hayley and Harry shook his head.
"I think American law doesn't permit me to give you this," he said, but then he shrugged. "But what do I care? I'm British, and from the looks of it you've been having a go at my stock."
"You don't have a TV," said Hayley defensively. "I had to find a way to keep myself entertained, and there's only so much I can read before I'm bored out of my mind."
Harry poured her a glass before doing the same for himself then gulping it down. He hummed. "Tell me something, Hayley. What were you doing in Niklaus' house?"
"Why do you want to know?" she asked breezily. Harry took the time to note that she didn't seem even the slightest bit scared of him; the girl seemed to ooze a certain confidence which told Harry that she could protect herself.
Harry shrugged. "Call it curiosity," the wizard answered.
"I was passing through town," she started, "when I heard word that a friend of mine lives here. I decided to stick around for a while."
"And this friend of yours is a hybrid?" Hayley nodded. "How do you deal with that?" he asked. "I mean, I don't know the specifics of it, but can't Niklaus turn you into a hybrid as well? From what I've heard werewolves don't particularly enjoy the prospect of becoming undead, or sired," Harry added absently.
"They don't," she said. "Myself included. But word is Klaus can't turn anymore wolves."
"Why's that?" Harry asked, not even trying to hide his own interest. He was disappointed when Hayley only shrugged. "So who's this friend of yours?"
"Tyler Lockwood."
Harry sat back in his chair, his glass of whisky half-filled and waiting for him to start drinking. Harry smirked a little. "If he's your friend, then I guess you must not like me," said Harry.
"It kind of makes you hard to like if you saved the guy that almost killed him, twice," she stressed the last, "but I've spent time with Klaus and from what I've seen from you, you're at least not as bad as him. But I'm guessing your whole depressed look makes you seem more out of your depth than anything."
No truer words, Harry thought. He stood, "I apologise," Harry started, "but without my wand, letting you out could mean I weaken my wards. At this moment I can't have that. But rest assured in due time I will let you out."
"And in the mean time you expect me to do what?" she asked with anger lining her tone.
Harry shrugged. "Amuse yourself," said Harry. "You have the entire house, except the lab and my room." Harry gave it some thought. "Connor's room as well," he said; because Connor would be the first person he saved.
Harry walked into his lab and sat in his chair; he still didn't have a desk, which he thought he should have gotten to sooner. Niklaus had won the first round; he had planned better than Harry, expect his move, and come out more than victorious. On him he had Harry's wand, Harry ring, Harry gun and compass, and two parts of Harry's mind that had become aware. Harry still didn't understand much of it. How had Niklaus learnt about Remus? How had the man known that killing Lexi would cause him so much pain and make him mind weaken to the point that he could be Compelled?
For a long moment Harry thought. Sitting still against his chair, and at intervals taking drink of his whiskey; the fiery liquid helped. It made sure the wizard didn't dwell on getting his friends killed and Connor captured, instead fuelling him into finding ways of making everything all right. Harry let out a sigh, and for the first time decided that he should think about how Remus and Sirius had come to be aware. Remus had said that he just found himself aware, then a few hours past he had felt a shifting then there had been Sirius. Harry thought, thinking of all possibilities the shifting could mean and finally stumbled on something: He had felt something akin to a shift when he had called Lexi back from the spirit world. He had felt some part of him leave and another attach itself.
The magic he had used to bring Lexi and Bree back was not the magic Harry was used to in the Stone of Resurrection. It was bent and warped by this world, giving rise to something Harry didn't fully understand beyond the obvious attributes of bring those on the Other Side back to life. But Harry should have known there would be a price. The magic of this world always had a loop hole; something that made sure it wasn't infallible: powerful spells needed to be bound to something, and curses or hexes could be broken by the right numbers, the right blood, or enough power. Maybe this was the loop hole for this act of magic, maybe bringing back the dead bound them to the person who had brought them back; but that didn't explain why Sirius and Remus had become aware.
Harry shook his head, at the moment that wasn't important. What was important was figuring out what to do now. It was obvious really, he had to save Connor, wake up Bree and Lexi, and get his wand back. Anything else he would leave until he had performed those three tasks. How to go about it was the real problem though, he was outnumbered and he didn't have his wand, points that made him weaker. Harry was aware that he needed help, and this time, with his friends caught up in it all, Harry didn't care about who he asked as long as he had help.
"Anna," he said, and it was a moment before the girl appeared. "I need your help."
For a while she didn't speak, watching Harry with eyes that looked older than her outward appearance. "The others would not think too kindly of me if helped you," she said. "They are already threatening to strip me of my power should I do it."
Harry felt a chill; even without his wand he still had some power, but the possibility of being stripped of magic was entirely disconcerting.
"What of the others?" asked Harry. "I heard three voices break my bindings. Would they be willing to helping me?"
She shrugged, which made her look a lot more her age. "They are rogues."
"Then would you be so kind as to tell me their names?" Harry asked. "I need all the help I can get."
"I can tell you only one," she said. "The other's name has been bound by Nature herself not to be spoken in front of you."
"All that you can give I would be happy for," said Harry deciding to put of what she had told him for later thought.
"Sheila Bennett," said Anna before the girl disappeared into thin air.
At least he hadn't incurred any debt, Harry mused before he called the name. The woman appeared. "Hello," said Harry, putting on a strained smile. "I'm—"
"Harry Potter," she interrupted. "Yes, I know. It might not have been I who asked for your help, but the Bennett clan of witches has always shared with each other the will of Nature."
"The will of Nature," said Harry. "Bree told me that some of you have a deep connection with her. She also told me that Nature doesn't like me too much."
"You break here rules wantonly," said Sheila. "How could she not?"
"Because I don't answer to her," said Harry. "I answer to the—"
"Universe," she interrupted again. "Yes, I know this too."
"I wonder how you know," said Harry with rising suspicion.
"I am fortunate enough that you overestimate your abilities, Harry Potter."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She didn't answer the question, instead she said. "Nature's will manifested itself to me," she said, "and it told me to deliver a message: The line, the circle, and the triangle are your birth-right, they are your power, they are the rope that pulls you forward; with there now three, the lines have dulled, weakened, connections must be reformed and strengthened."
Harry's mind jumped at the answer; he didn't even need to think before the message was clear. The Deathly Hallows' power was spread thin, they didn't know which Harry was their master, and so if he died, that would be the end of it—provided he didn't get stuck on the Other Side—and he would no longer be universe hopping. Harry couldn't help smiling at the thought, with the connections between him and the Deathly Hallows spread thin, then he would finally be able to move on, finally rest in peace. But did Harry want that? He was beginning to get used to immortality, and so to lose it now would it be bad? Harry couldn't decide, nor did he even try, there were still Connor (Harry shuddered as he began to think what the man would have been through in two weeks), Bree, and Lexi to think about.
"Is that all?" Harry asked. "Is that the only reason you helped me?"
She shook her head. "You are old enough that when someone saves your life you believe, in some way, that you owe them, is this true?"
"Provided of course that I'm not forced to do anything I consider morally unacceptable, then yes," said Harry.
Sheila nodded. "I want you to help my granddaughter before she takes on something above her head," she said gravely and Harry was about to shake his head, tell her that he was too busy to be babysitting some witch who was learning to regain her magic but Sheila interrupted him. "It might help you too," she said.
Harry sighed. "Fine, I'll do what I can." Was it really such a loss though? Harry thought. Having a witch on his side, even one, would be a godsend considering Niklaus had fourteen on his side, two of whom probably knew as much magic as Harry.
Harry decided to give himself another moment of thought, he needed to have a clear head when he prepared to take action, and that meant just listening to his head and they urge they had to want to play flashes of memories; memories which were now taking a habit of coming to Harry unbidden. He no longer had to search them out as he had Connor's name, but they just flashed brightly, garnering his attention; Harry was worried, this meant his Occlumency barriers were shattered, which in itself meant that he could be Compelled, vampires suddenly took on a new level of scary in Harry's book.
Harry stood and paced; looking around him: was he safe here? he asked himself. The wards weren't the most powerful, and he was sure they could be brought down by Niklaus' fourteen witches, and to top it all, he had changed them to make getting in easier than getting out. The wizard stopped in his pacing then walked to the cupboard with his armour and reached at the very bottom for a secret compartment. He pushed on the compartment and the wood slab vanished, an unassuming box sat inside. Harry pulled it out and opened it; pencils, about thirty-two lay inside.
The box contained the only thing that would allow him to go into his vault without his wand handy, the failsafe was more for when he died than in the eventuality that he lost his wand, because, and now it seemed stupid, Harry had never thought his wand would be taken away. Harry was starting to notice a pattern in all this, a pattern he didn't like: this was his fourth life time, in the three previous he had fought against much tougher odds than a thousand year old vampire-werewolf hybrid, and so his head had begun to blow up, compounded by all the years he had lived. Harry was starting to get cocky, to think that he was far more powerful than the average supernatural being, which, Harry convinced himself, wasn't true. This was a new world, what he knew in the last wasn't true here: for example there were no Supermuggles in this world, no people dressed in the ridiculous costumes Harry had gotten used to. Everything he knew had changed, his mind needed to change as well. Harry had to ensure that even an ant he feared because he didn't know how much Nature might have empowered it.
Harry snorted. Ego wasn't something he could just let go off. Well, he could, but it would take a ton of work and a lot of time he didn't have. He still had to save Connor, he still had to wake up Bree and Lexi, and he still had to get his wand, and all in that order.
Harry took a breath. How could he use what little he had, though in all honesty he quite had a lot in the way of weapons, and get Connor out of Niklaus' house. Harry gave it some thought and when the name popped into his mind he felt a rush of anger, Stefan Salvatore, the man he decided not to kill and instead of the Ripper helping Harry, he had been his undoing. Harry wanted to make him pay, he wanted to take away everything the man loved, his girl, his brother, his friends, everything, and he was even thinking of killing them all, letting the man wander round the earth knowing that his family and friends were dead because of him.
The thought should have made Harry feel guilty, but the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him. This was the only way. Make the Ripper choose between whatever he had with Niklaus and his girl.
"Mikael," Harry said, coming to a decision; a shiver run down his spine as the man appeared.
He gave Harry a brief once over, then said, "You've been quiet."
"I've been dealing with things," said Harry. "I'm calling in one of my favours."
"Oh?"
Harry nodded. "Do you know a girl named Elena Gilbert?" Harry asked.
"The Doppelganger?"
Harry shrugged. "We don't know each other well each for her to have to told me whether she's a Doppelganger or not," said Harry. "But there are only two Gilberts in Mystic Falls, one male and one female so I guess that makes the pickings easy."
"What do you want me to do with her?" asked Mikael. "Not that I can do much except spy," he added in a mutter.
"That's good, because I want you to spy," said Harry. "The school, the Mystic Grill, the Gilbert house; if she's ever alone in any of those locations I want you to tell me immediately."
"Twenty to go," said Mikael. "Remember your side of the bargain."
"Protect Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah," said Harry, though the only things Harry knew he would have to protect the siblings from were each other. Originals were very hard to kill, Harry had been surprised when he had heard of the deaths of two, though Mikael never liked talking about how he died, and Harry had never ran across the Original named Finn—and Harry didn't like calling strangers except when he needed them (and all the Originals, excluding Mikael, were strangers, Harry had heard of them only through recounts from their father, never having run past them).
Mikael disappeared.
A few days passed, Harry spending the time hand making ropes bound with lengths of Vervain; his weapons at all times were with him, stuck in the compartments of his forever donned armour. Harry could not take the chance that he be attacked unexpected, he still could fight and he was still good enough in Apparition he could take on the unexpecting. On his waist were twin daggers cursed to inflict excruciating to whomever they cut; he had taken to Connor's example and stuck no less than a dozen Connor Charmed Stakes in part of his armour.
Hayley for her part had been quiet for the three days, at times watching Harry and others intently reading the book Harry had given to Connor for Occlumency lessons. The few times Harry had noticed her—he had decided to make a thing out of cooking each night, though they would be running out of stock when the week was done—she didn't seem even the slightest antsy about being cooped up, but Harry had felt someone disturb his wards a few times and he thought it had been her.
Harry finished the last length and put it beside the other five. All neatly laid out. Not too long that they were cumbersome, but each long enough that he could tie a knot that would be incredibly hard to break. He had a plan, but it all edged on Mikael making a return.
The wizard hardly had any idea what to think. How long did it take before the damned girl was alone? Harry had thought more time than once and even gotten as close as to calling the man, but Harry knew the man well, and he knew that wasn't likely Mikael to go against his word. So Harry had waited, and instead thought that the time might be well to start their dinner.
"So," said Hayley playing with her meal. Harry had started to think that the girl had a nervous habit of it. "This potion you said you made for those guys," she said.
"What about it?" Harry asked.
"Can you make any more of it?" she asked.
"Were I to have the ingredients, then yes," said Harry before really thinking about the question, but then he considered it, and considered something else he'd heard. "The full moon is coming up," he mused out loud. Hayley nodded and Harry sighed. "Unfortunately it the potion takes two weeks to brew and I would need Wolfsbane, silver, newts and salamanders, the blood of a werewolf, a vampire, and a witch, and lastly the leaves from an Elder tree, or any other tree of power."
"You can't do it?"
Harry shook his head. "Unfortunately, not now," said Harry. "But once I get my wand I can most definitely acquire said ingredients post haste."
"The wand that Niklaus has? How are you planning to get that back?"
"I haven't thought of that yet," said Harry. "But I've been sort of preoccupied."
"I've noticed," said Hayley. "You seem to think you're going to be attacked."
Harry shrugged. "I'm surprised they haven't already attacked," said Harry. "They must be waiting for something. What, I haven't thought of yet, but as I've said, I've been preoccupied." Harry felt a shiver run up his spine. "But I think that might have cleared up."
Mikael appeared. "She's in her living room, for the time being alone."
Harry stood and turned on the spot, pulling out the daggers as he did; the scene change and Harry suddenly found himself standing in the living room that had held the gathering of vampires some time ago. He thrust the knife forward, catching her before she turned. A scream left her, but she had enough presence of mind to swipe her arm. Harry dodged, lucky enough that the arm missed him by millimetres. He grabbed the Sun Cursed Stakes and stabbed the woman in the chest.
She stopped, pain evident on her features, tried to grab for the stake but her hands hissed. A disturbing sound echoed around the room as she tried desperately to draw in breath.
"Blame Stefan when this is all over," said Harry as he stepped behind her and snapped her neck, grabbing her as she slumped over, he turned on the spot.
"You're back," said Hayley as she briskly walked into the still dishevelled living room. Harry was bent over, tying the slumping vampire onto the wooden chair.
"Yep," said Harry. He stood and removed the stake form the woman's chest and the knife from her stomach. "I caught her by surprise, which made it easier to snap her neck."
"I know her," said Hayley, coming to stand beside Harry.
"Elena Gilbert," said Harry. "Her boyfriend's the reason I'm wandless."
"So you're going to kill her?" asked Hayley and not sounding too scared about the idea; but then the werewolves of this world didn't turn until they killed for the first time. Harry wondered what this girl's story was.
"I'm going to bargain for her life," said Harry. "It will be up to her boyfriend whether or not he wants her free." He grabbed her ring then pushed the chair forward until it sat before a large window. "Do not touch her," said Harry, his voice grave, then turned on the spot.
A few minutes Harry spent just sitting in the Gilbert household. It wasn't too long before he heard footsteps coming up the house, then the sound of keys into the door. Harry pulled up two stakes, preparing himself for the inevitable fight.
"Hey, Elena, you in here?" asked a voice that sounded much like the medium Harry had seen in what felt like days ago. "Bonnie says she's been calling you and you haven't…" he stopped as his eyes fell on Harry, taking in the man's appearance. "You're not dead," he said, sounding surprised.
"I'm not," said Harry. He held up Elena's ring and threw it at the boy who instinctively caught it.
"This is—what did you do to her?" asked Jeremy, his tone quickly shifting to one of anger.
"For the moment, nothing," said Harry coolly. "But when the sun comes up she will die, and I'll make sure she can't be brought back. Tell the Ripper I want Connor and my wand, and if I feel even the slightest quiver of magic from Niklaus' witches, I won't hesitate to stake her. He has before sunrise," and Harry turned on the spot.
He paced on arrival; his whole plan hinged on the Ripper not disclosing the girl's disappearance with Niklaus. Yes, Harry would make good on his threat to kill the girl if it came to it, but then he wouldn't have leverage and he would have a pissed off Ripper trying to kill him. Perhaps he shouldn't have asked for the wand, Harry thought, then he would at least have Connor and he could just call back Bree and Lexi, even asleep they were still corporeal ghosts and he had power over those.
"Why wouldn't they just attack you?" asked Hayley. "What would stop them from coming in here?"
"The wards," Harry said. "I've made it so they make it easier coming in, but I didn't make it too easy," Harry said, the talking helping in taking his mind away from the sheer stupidity of his plan. There was absolutely no way Niklaus would part with the conduit for Harry's magic, especially if Sirius or Remus could feel the Elder Wand too.
Should have just told him to get Connor, the wizard thought, then he would have thought of something else, another way to get the wand. Harry paced as hours passed and finally there was an intake of breath. He stopped to stare at the waking woman.
She first tried to move her arms and winced as the Vervain lace ropes burned at her wrists. "I wouldn't try moving too much," said Harry. "I don't want you dead too soon."
"What? You're alive?" she asked.
Harry smiled at that. "There seems to be a lot of that going around," said Harry. "Your boyfriend is very good at misinformation I'll give him that."
"What does Stefan have to do with this?"
"Everything," said Harry. "Everything. It was, after all, he who went against me with Niklaus, it was he who guarded me for two weeks I don't remember, who consoled Lexi while he knew I was alive, and it was he who, when he could have done something, allowed me to send Alaric back to the Other Side."
"I don't understand," she said in a soft voice.
"Stefan has been a bad boy of late," said Harry. "Dealing with the devil and committing great evils, he's even been lying to the one he loves. And I know what you're thinking right now," the wizard said at the disbelief shining in her eyes. "Stefan isn't the sort to lie, he wouldn't hurt another human being, but that's a lie now isn't it? He was a Ripper, and you know what those do, drink the bloods of their victims with such intensity that they rip their heads off. Now, what makes you think he would be above lying? It's certainly much easier than killing isn't it?"
Elena didn't speak, she just stared at some point behind Harry that the wizard couldn't fathom looking.
"I've given your boyfriend a deadline, either he gives me what I want, namely my friend, or you die. I'll guess by the end of the night we'll see what sort of person Stefan Salvatore really is."
Harry stood, glancing outside. The time had yet to even reach midnight, so they had a lot more time before Elena was burnt to a crisp. "Well, I have other matters to attend to," said Harry then snapped the girl's neck before moving up to his lab. Mikael stood there, guessing that Harry would still need his help again, or without something to do, Harry didn't really know.
"This will be two of twenty-one," he said, "and already I feel the need to ask why exactly I'm doing this."
"No time," said Harry. "I need you to keep a watch on the Ripper, Stefan Salvatore, if they plan something untoward with their witch, come and tell me; make sure you aren't seen by the Medium, with their witch I'm afraid they might bind you or something."
Mikael nodded and disappeared.
The hours which passed Harry spent in meditation, trying to get his mind in order; thoughts just came and went without order, his mind playing its own games while he tried to think of dealing with the matter at hand; memories were coming back unbidden, of his old life, of his family and friends, and of the feelings he associated with them. It was unnerving at the best of times, but Harry tried to pull himself back, and finally he had enough room that he could think without interruption.
He needed a plan in case the Ripper didn't pull through…well, he thought, if that happen then he wouldn't need to kill her, letting her go and making the Ripper's friends hate him would be enough torture for the immortal, at least Harry hoped. But if that happened, then he needed another way of getting Conner, and, if he was lucky, maybe getting his wand back, though he wasn't betting on the last.
There was still the Cloak of Invisibility, but Harry wasn't too entirely sure it would work. If magic thought of them as the same people, then they would see Harry from a mile away. There had to be something else, something Harry was overlooking that could give him the edge if he were to be forced into a fight with Sirius and Remus…though Harry couldn't help wondering, why would they want to fight him? Because you kept them imprisoned and didn't even spare them one thought, came the unbidden thought. Harry shrugged, not really wanting to give any further thought to the matter less he depress himself.
An uncertain knock sounded from the door, Harry was surprised for a second before he remembered he was not the only un-tied-up person in the house. His hand fumbled at his pocket for his wand and felt some amount of the hopelessness return at its loss. The wizard stood and had to physically open the door.
"Hayley, I don't know if you know, but I'm busy at the moment," said Harry, the girl didn't move. "And I want privacy."
"I guessed that," said Hayley. "But I think you'll want to hear what I've got to say."
Harry sighed, then took a step back, giving her enough room to enter. She meandered for a few seconds, looking around, before Harry lost his patience; he was on the losing side of a war, he didn't have time to be looking at her, even if she was pleasing to the eye.
"You wanted to tell me something," Harry reminded, and Hayley only nodded. "Well are you going to tell it to me?"
"Yeah," she said. "I will…well, I'm just thinking whether it's a good idea or not that I tell you."
Well that certainly caused Harry's curiosity to peek, something that his expression didn't hide. Harry waited.
"You're trying to take down Klaus, right?" she said, nervously playing with her hands.
"Right now, its mere survival, but yes, initially that was what I was trying to do."
"And where do the hybrids fall in all of this?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "I don't think they fall in anywhere," said Harry. "They're Niklaus' army, and though I haven't actively tried to kill them if they were trying to kill me I would defend myself by whatever means possible."
"You do know they're sired to him right?"
"I've heard of it, yes," said Harry. "This is why I'm not actively trying to kill them."
"What if they weren't anymore?"
Harry's brows rose. "I hadn't thought that was possible," he muttered.
"What if I told you it was possible, what would you do then?"
Usurp Niklaus' power right from under him; start with the hybrids in Godric's Hollow, then maybe do the same for the hybrids in Mystic Falls. If he did this, then he would only have the witches, Niklaus, and the Ripper to contend with, the former of which were familiar ground for him. But there was a hitch, why, if this was true, would she be telling him?
"I think I would be suspicious of why you feel you need to disclose of such information," said Harry.
"I want to get out of here," said the girl. "I want to be on the road again, and I'm hoping that if I helped you, then you could maybe get me that potion."
"You want something," said Harry. "Which means you most probably are telling the truth, but that raises another question, why haven't you told your hybrid friend about this?"
"He knows," said Hayley, "and he's one of the few free hybrids there are."
"There are others?" Harry couldn't help but ask, surprise lining his tone. "How have you kept something like this a secret?"
"Well, they're scared of Klaus, telling him something like that would mean they would have to stay with him forever," she said.
"So that's what you're doing in town?" She nodded. "I suddenly feel guilty about keeping you here," Harry muttered. "But not guilty enough to let you out," Harry added when a hopeful look appeared on the girl's face, "yet. You know too much about most things, but if you tell me more about breaking the sire bond, your release would come by a lot quicker."
"And you'll make sure I have that potion?"
"Doable," said Harry. "So, why don't you tell me more about this sire bond."
"Well, the thing with the sire bond is that it's born out of gratitude," Hayley started. "Hybrids feel loyal to Klaus because he took away the pain of transformations; he took away their own personal hells; and he gave them control. So to strip them of the bond, we need to take away that gratitude."
"How do we do that?" asked Harry.
"Pain," she said. "The pain is why they're loyal, so we need to make sure they own the pain."
"Torture them?" Harry said, and he couldn't help thinking of how effective the Cruciatus Curse would be in this sort of mission. He felt an amount of guilt at the thought, but Harry amounted it to withdrawal from having his wand taken away.
"No, it has to be something they do for themselves," said Hayley. "To break the sire bond, a hybrid would have to transform into a wolf so many times they become used to the pain."
Harry, about to give the matter more thought, shivered as chills, three of them in succession, rose up his spine. Harry sighed. "We seem to have visitors," said Harry and gestured Hayley to the door; this was one of the protected rooms, a room in which Harry's cloak was kept, and Harry didn't trust any living person in here alone. He couldn't lose the only Hallow he had.
Harry walked downstairs, Hayley following behind him with some interest reflected in her features. "You have a question," said Harry.
"How do you know someone's out there?" she asked.
"There's an Intruder-Detecting Enchantment as part of the wards," Harry answered. "When someone tries to break through it sends a shiver through my spine."
She nodded. "So that's what that expression's about," she said.
"What expression?"
"How do I describe it?" She shrugged. "I'm not really good at explaining, but just know you have an expression that is just weird at the best of the times."
"Seems my Occlumency barriers aren't what they used to be," Harry muttered under his breath. They had left the house and now walking down the driveway where Harry could see six figures standing beyond the wards. "More people than I expected."
"You can see that far?"
Harry nodded absently as they got closer. Stephen, the Gilbert boy, and a Connor who looked somewhat thinner and paler; then there were three others Harry didn't know, two men, though he could blurrily remember having seen the taller of the two, and a dark-skinned woman in her mid-twenties. Harry grabbed at the cursed daggers, he didn't trust his wards to keep all of them out.
"Don't worry, Harry!" shouted the blond man who, unlike the others, had a smile on his face. "We won't attack!"
Harry walked closer to the shield. "What do you want?" he asked with unhidden suspicion.
The blond tapped his ear. "We can't hear you," the blond said. "Muffling Charm, do we have permission to take it off?"
Harry grit his teeth. He hadn't exactly thought all of this through. He gave a curt nod, his grasp on his daggers growing tighter.
"It'll be the easier to break," said the blonde, who Harry was begging to think was either Sirius or Remus…and now that he thought about it, reckless as this was, it would be Sirius without a doubt. "You know the spell."
The two nodded then began chanting, it didn't take too long and Harry winced as a ward shattered violently.
"Hey, Harry," said Sirius with a bright, jovial smile.
"Sirius," Harry returned dully. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to say hello," said Sirius. "The last time we spoke you locked me up, you know a guy could feel resentful for that."
"You ripped yourself from my head," said Harry, trying and failing to hide his rising voice. "I am resentful. Why is he here?" Harry asked his gaze having shifted to Stefan. "Matter of fact, why are there witches here?" he asked.
"I threatened them," said Sirius before Stefan or Jeremy could speak. "We're similar in that respect."
Harry didn't take his eyes off Stefan. "He was waiting for me when I tried to steal, him," he gestured for Connor who was heavily leaning on Stefan. The man looked in desperate condition, as though he had been fighting in all the two weeks he had spent in the Mikaelson Estate. Harry grit his teeth, his hands clenching tighter around his daggers and every impulse in him screaming to attack, everything and everyone.
"You okay, Connor?" Harry asked and again Harry couldn't keep the heat from his voice.
"Could be better," the man said with a shaky voice. "I feel like killing something right now."
"Mutual feeling, friend," said Harry. "Let's get this over with. Leave Connor and go at the edge of the forest, I'll Apparate in with the girl, take Connor, then Apparate back in, then we can go about out merry ways."
"Except you won't have Klaus out for your head," muttered the Ripper.
"He already is," said Harry with a glare at the man. Had he already forgotten that he had been part and parcel to why Harry had lost in the first place?
"Not anymore," said Sirius. Harry rose a brow at that. "Klaus and I have come to a sort of agreement," the man explained. "He doesn't try to kill you if you do the same and teach Remus and I magic."
"Teach you magic?" Harry asked a bit befuddled by that.
Sirius gave a sheepish nod. "This body is not all that good at the intricacies of magic, I fumble with the wand motions, and turning on the spot has been murder—this body seems to hold the fear that it'll just fall mid-motions. Stupid isn't it?"
Harry didn't answer. "Why would I teach you magic," said Harry. "Matter of fact, why would I trust you or Niklaus?"
"Because you have no other choice," said Sirius. "You're wandless Harry, the only power you have is Apparition, and that could only get you so far in a battle with a vampire."
"I think you forget my resourcefulness."
"And I think you forget that our side has fourteen witches."
"Two of whom are here, and I could kill if I wanted."
"Twelve is still powerful, and anyway, these two here can take care of themselves. Powerful witches they are," said Sirius in a very gloating tone.
"Harry," whispered Hayley beside him. "Can we talk in private?"
Harry took one last look at Connor. "Leave Connor," said Harry, "we proceed as planned. I'll give some thought to what you said, Sirius." Stefan looked a little grateful at that.
"Not too much time," said Sirius. "I'm really looking forward to Transfigurations."
"Your hand if you will," said Harry to Hayley. "This can get a little disconcerting so prepare yourself."
Hayley took Harry's hand, and the wizard turned on the spot. There was the brief sensation of being squeezed through a tube, then landed in the dishevelled living room.
Harry halted Hayley as she was about to speak. "We wait for Connor," he said. "He's one of the few allies I have." Hayley nodded.
Harry grabbed the chair with one hand, keeping a dagger in the other, and turned on the spot. He appeared just beyond the wards, Connor held himself tiredly as though he would fall with the slightest wind. Harry walked up to the man and held onto his shoulder, turning on the spot. Connor almost fell over as they appeared, but Harry quickly caught him, pulling the man to one of the still fully furnished drawing rooms and putting him on a couch.
"You need anything, mate?" Harry asked, worry lining his voice.
Connor shook his head. "I just need sleep," the man said. "Sleep in a bed," he added.
"I can do that," said Harry before Apparating the man to his room and putting him to bed; a harder task considering he didn't have his wand with him.
The man was asleep the moment he hit the bed and Harry walked out of the room, softly closing the door, not that it meant much of a difference.
"I don't think Connor will be receptive for a while," said Harry. "What were you thinking out there?"
"That this would be a perfect opportunity to turn the hybrids," she said. "If you change them from inside it will be a lot easier than out, and you could steal your wand a lot easier if they thought you were friends with them."
"I don't think I could pull that off," said Harry. "Especially not with what they've done to Connor…" Harry stalled as he felt a shiver climb up his spine.
"Someone outside?"
Harry nodded. "Am I really that readable?"
"Pretty much," was the answer.
Harry shook his head. "I should work on that," he muttered before turning on the spot. "What do you want now?" Harry asked with clear annoyance, but when he took sight of the man he was a little surprised. The man was not too taller than Harry, his skin pale and with dark, long hair; the man looked a little confused by Harry's outburst but he trudged forward.
"You called my Brother friend," the man said uncertainly.
"Your brother?" Harry asked caught at a loss.
"Connor, he is called," said the man.
"Yes," said Harry. "Yes, I did. Who are you exactly," asked Harry as he started to take a deeper look at the man, took in how he looked out of touch with reality, as though he was slightly off colour.
"Alexander," said the man, "once leader of the Brotherhood of the Five."
"Am I supposed to know what that means?" Harry asked.
"You are a witch, are you not?"
"Wizard," Harry corrected.
"It matters not what you call yourself," the man said. "I am desperate, I need your help."
Harry sighed. "Why are so many people asking for my help all of a sudden," Harry said. "I've got my own problems to deal with. Problems that I put above helping ghosts for the time being. Come to me when I've got my own life in order," Harry said before whirling around and walking back to his heart, his fury building.
Really, why was it that people were, now of all times, asking for his help? Couldn't it be seen that he had his own problems. Had the man, Alexander—
"I'm a Hunter!" the man bellowed and Harry stopped, "and I know how I got to be like this," said the man.
Curiosity rose, and Harry knew he had screwed himself. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot," said Harry because he was almost salivating to find out about Hunters. "Alexander." The man appeared next to Harry. "Follow me."
AN: And with this chapter I'm trying to bring Silas into it all. I think I like the idea of a witch of Silas' power working with Harry, of course being that Harry and Silas have an unhealthy amount of hubris, I don't know how that will work out in the long run. I seriously forgot to upload the chapter last week, I had it done, but studying got to me. Enjoy, and yeah, I might have another chapter done by this week, the muse is really going strong and I don't want to waist that.