Persistent Illusion

Sable Xane

Rated M

Disclaimer: Warnings: Summery: See Chapter One as I don't want to inflate my word count any more than it already has been.

Extremely Long A/N: First of all, you are all absolutely awesome. This is by far the best received story I have ever worked on.

I am going to be frank with you guys. I haven't been able to write for a purely selfish reason. My mother died of heart related problems caused by years of smoking and unwillingness to take care of herself. That was February 4th, 2012. It was three days before her birthday. She was going to be 55. My mother was always my biggest supporter and fan. It was totally unexpected and I am the one who found her. It hit me hard. I didn't write anything for a long time. I was in a rather self destructive mode. It was all I could do to finish the last semester of school for my AA. I decided that after that was done I was going to start writing again. This story was where I focused my efforts. Looking back my grief was evident in the pain of it all and the thoughts of something beyond the death of those we love, but my heart wasn't in it.

I've come a long way since then. It still isn't easy, but I am determined that I am not going to continue to put this off. I love these characters and telling their stories.

Don't feel sorry for me, I've done that enough. If you want to do something for me, help those around you to quit smoking and take care of themselves. If they can't do it for themselves get them to do it for you. It is a stupid and completely pointless way do die.

From here on out things go back to Harry's POV. This is also where the continuously definitive date stamps stop. They will reappear from time to time as markers, but, at least to begin with, Harry doesn't know what is going on, let alone what the date is.

In rereading this I have noticed many of my editing mistakes, these will eventually be fixed. Trust me, I know they are there.

Extremely long a/n over.

Chapter Two

I like to watch mankind in its futile attempt to understand the unknown, when they don't even understand that which they know.
-Terrence Howard

XXX

At first all he knew was pain. There was an aching need to breath, but his chest felt as though someone had set a paving stone on it. It took him several halting tries to force air into his lungs. It hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, but he kept at it until it started to become easier. He let his mouth fall closed in hopes of working up enough spit to ease the process. Fortunately his nose didn't protest taking over the work and he started trying to work some saliva up. He didn't get far with his efforts as it felt like someone had poured dust in his mouth. He thought of reaching for his wand and simply conjuring a glass of water, but he couldn't remember where he'd left it, not to mention his arm wasn't moving.

His thoughts began to clear of the fussy mess that was his exhausted sleep, but just a quickly he felt something akin to panic trying to take over. He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there. He suppressed it. It hurt too much. He decided that he could panic later.

The next logical course of action was to see if he could simply see where he was. His eye opened with only a little resistance. The white blur that surrounded him was rather telling. He had to be in either the hospital wing, or maybe Saint Mungo's. Even if they were not the most desirable places to be, neither location was particularly worrisome.

There was the distinct sound of someone moving about and an excited voice. Apparently whoever was seeing about him knew he was awake. He wondered what had happened and if Ron and Hermione were alright.

The muzzy thoughts filling his head hardly made since to him. It was almost as if he'd been drugged. His fingers began to twitch and after countless seconds he was able to stretch them out and make a fist. Next began trying to work his wrists.

The incomprehensible voices continued to grow in excitement and volume. He tried not to let that distract him from trying to regain control over his own body. Eventually the effort of it all wore him down and he began drifting back into the darkness.

XXX

The next time he started to come to awareness it was to a strange yet somewhat familiar sound. It sounded suspiciously like a muggle heart monitor. He had no idea where he could have been that would use any such device. He put the thought aside for the time being.

He began to work his body again and found it much easier than it had been the last time. Opening his eyes was still a painful encounter with bright whiteness. He began to shift in greater earnest. He knew good and well that Poppy was likely to get after him for pushing himself so quickly, but he had no desire to remain trapped in the hospital longer than absolutely necessary.

Once he thought he had enough control over his muscles he pushed himself slowly into a sitting position. The world slowly shifted into the blurry shapes he'd come to associate with a lack of his glasses. He reached blindly toward where the stand that they were usually placed upon only to come up empty handed.

He tried to shake away the lingering haze in his head, certain that he had simply missed his grab. He sifted his gaze, but the stand wasn't there. He squinted, trying to bring the world into better focus. Nothing about the smallish room seemed familiar to him. The blobs of furniture were in the wrong places and the room far to small to be anywhere in the hospital wing. Come to think of it, neither Hogwarts or St. Mungo's would have supported the vary muggle devices that were cluttering the area immediately around his bed.

He began to feel a distinct sense of rising panic. He was in a strange and apparently muggle place. No one he trusted would have left him untended in such surroundings. The fact that he was still extremely disoriented did nothing to reduce his rapidly climbing stress levels. He was starting to have trouble breathing again when several blurry figures hurried into the room. By then his magic had begun to crackle around him and he distantly heard the electronics begin to short out around him.

The language the people around him were using was unfamiliar even he recognized it as somewhat Asian sounding.

He flinched and tried to weakly scuttle away from the strange hands that tried to grab at him. There was more than one yelp as his magic tried to protect him. There was a sudden sharp prick to his shoulder. He looked down dumbly at the green tufted metal dart sticking out of his flesh. He could hardly understand what was happening as his eyelids began to grow heavy and his panic drug him back into darkness.

XXX

The next time he came to awareness it was sudden and he immediately tried to sit up only find that he'd been restrained. The air around him was filled with the sounds of a fight. It reminded him distinctly of the violent action films that Uncle Vernon and Dudley had been so fond of.

He had no way of knowing how long he'd been bouncing in and out of consciousness in this strange place, but something told him that he needed to free himself and quickly.

He took several long, deep breaths and concentrated on unlocking his restraints. After a few seconds his magic reacted to his will and he felt them loosen. He pushed himself free of the straps and off of the cot. He almost ended up arse over teakettle on the floor but caught himself at the last second. He felt as weak as a kitten, but he pushed past the wobbly feeling in his limbs. He supported himself on any near by object as he made his way toward what he thought was a door. He had to stop several times as the wires stuck to his skin snagged and pulled free of their clips.

It wasn't the most graceful thing to see him stumbling slowly along a hall in nothing but an ill fitting gown. The air was frequently disturbed by the continued sound of fighting somewhere in the building. It only pushed him to move faster, growing a bit more sure of step as he worked his way along. He passed several rooms that seemed to be other medical bays and offices. At the end of a hall, though, there was a large room filled with tables and shelves. A buzz ran along his skin and his hand snapped out of its own accord as his wand slapped into it.

He instantly felt a thousand times better, even if it was a still a weak kind of better. He hopefully flicked his wand and called for his glasses. There was a rattle from one of the shelves and he caught the black blur that came at him. Once the world was back in focus he could see that the room was full of things both familiar and strange. Many of the objects belonged to him and others were simply of obvious magical nature.

Had the muggles discovered the magical world? Had he been taken captive to be studied?

The sounds of fighting seemed to grow closer and he shook the questions away for the time being. There would be time later to contemplate his circumstance; after he'd found his friends. He spotted a trunk among the objects and summoned it down. It wouldn't be a good idea to leave magical objects in the hands of muggles so he set about cramming the contents of the room into his trunk. His knowledge of expansion charms was limited, but he was certain that this particular trunk had charms on it similar to those that had been on Hermione's little beaded bag.

It was a good thing that his magic wasn't as weary as the rest of him because it seemed to be all that was keeping him going.

As soon as the last of the objects, including many that probably belonged to the muggles, were stowed away in the trunk he snapped it closed. Another flick and it shrank. He went to put it in a pocket only to realize that he was still in the medical gown. He wasn't as good as Hermione, but he did a passable job of transfiguring the gown into something that could probably pass as muggle clothing. It did nothing for his lack of shoes, but he didn't much care at the moment.

He'd managed to catch the shimmery slip of cloth that he'd been overjoyed to discover was indeed his cloak of invisibility. He pocketed the trunk and slung the cloak around his shoulders. He was just in time as well.

He shuffled into a corner quietly as several people, who looked like some kind of soldiers, filed in to the room follow by a man who remind him a bit of Snape, only greasier, if that was possible. He was far younger than Harry's former potion's master had been and he gave off a completely different sort of foreboding aura.

The man seemed rather put out when he found the room almost empty. He said something in an irritated sort of voice and another man who had been beaten rather badly was brought forward. The two of them jabbered back and forth in an unfamiliar language for several minutes. When the greasy man failed to get whatever answers he was looking for he gave a sharp command to one of soldiers.

Harry could only watch in horror as the man was shot in the head, point blank.

The man walk toward a desk that sat in the corner and began to dig through drawers and shuffle through files full of pictures and pages. Some he discarded and others he set aside. Someone eventually came in with an already partially filled box and began packing away those things the greasy man had set aside. What looked like a computer had been saved for last. After a few short minutes of typing and clicking he snatched the cords free of the tower and passed it to the man who had been packing away the papers. The whole group then filed back out of the room without another glance, leaving the corpse cooling on the floor.

Harry remained in that corner until well after the building had gone totally silent. Despite the obvious death and destruction around him, he stopped and checked every body he passed on his way through the halls. There were no survivors. Neither did he find any other relics that looked like they may have belonged to the magical world.

He eventually found his way outside to more destruction. The small village that had housed the facility he'd just exited was burnt to the ground with no evidence of survivors.

He felt his heart break when he came across a huddled form wrapped around a much smaller one. Though they were burnt beyond any hope of recognition, Harry knew it had been a mother trying to protect her child.

He forced himself to push through the burnt out buildings as quickly as he could and not linger on the painful loss of life around him. He had only just made it to the shelter of the trees when the ground shook with the force of a massive explosion. He turned back with an expression of dark wonder in his eyes to see the facility go up in a fireball.

Harry didn't know where he was or what was going on, but he was more afraid at that moment than he had ever been of Tom Riddle.

XXX

TBC