CHAPTER 59: What We Leave Behind (Part 3)

Deep Within Harry Potter's Mind

For a moment, he remained standing inside that void. Surrounded by a blinding white light that forced him to shield his eyes away from it. His anger quickly dissipated, but before it could be replaced with a sense of disquiet, the light blinked away as fast as it had consumed him.

He was immediately swarmed, standing inside a large hall with over a hundred other Hogwarts students. Laughing and rushing from side to side, he found no immediate familiar faces as he searched for them. It was getting harder to breathe as he began getting crushed by the mass of kids, with a constant thumping sound in the background and the kids getting louder and louder. He found Filch atop a tall set of stairs, hammering a nail into the wall as he-

"Harry," the joyful exclamation startled him into freezing as all the blood drained from his face. He felt a small hand grab him by the shoulder and physically turn him around as she echoed his name with a slight hint of exasperation. "Behind you."

His lips shook, and he quickly felt tears forming in his eyes when he met hers. Her hair, made into a long French braid, settled along her right shoulder, as she smiled playfully at him. His mouth tried to speak, but his brain hadn't come up with the words. Too enthralled by her sight, he wanted nothing more than to grab her face and feel her heat. To know, without a doubt, that she was real.

"Cat caught your tongue, Potter?" She looked too pleased with herself, her eyes glittered as her smirk grew. And for once, Harry couldn't bring himself to act as if he weren't mesmerized by it.

The whole world began disappearing around them as her eyes kept him captive. He felt a smile begin to creep into his face as he stopped holding back and let the tear fall down his cheek.

"Look at how innocent she looks," a nasty voice whispered in his ear, and Harry felt his heart break all over away. Like a bucket full of cold water, he was brought back to reality. The three of them were alone, in a massive room from his old memories. But as his eyes stayed with her, as they began to roam around every corner of her face, seeing every crinkle and stray hair in her face, she had never looked so real. But even though he never stopped looking at her, he felt Montague slowly walk around him, circling them like a hungry predator, before settling behind her left shoulder. "You can see it in her eyes, just how much she loves you. Has anyone ever looked at you like that?"

"I know I look gorgeous, Harry, but it's not like I took your voice away or anything," Susan said, rolling her eyes in amusement.

He focused on her, tried to tune out Montague's words as he stayed with her. He tried to speak, but when he did, a shattered sob came out. "You may as well have."

"Look at that, mate." Montague said. "That sweet, young girl in front of you. That love she had for you. You destroyed that."

"Well, you can gawk all you want on the way," Susan smiled. "But if we don't move now we're going to be late."

"Late?" His head was hurting, and though his body was yearning to cry, to free itself from his hold, he didn't let it.

"To Hogsmeade, silly," she gave him a playful slap. "Our first date. I know you didn't forget, why else would you be here?"

"Ooh," Montague smiled. "Tell her. Tell her about what happens to her. What Dolohov does to her."

"Harry, please," he heard Susan's voice, but she wasn't speaking. "Please, Harry." Her voice was broken, begging, and when he realised it was coming from behind, he quickly turned only to find himself away from the Entrance Hall.

Blood scattered all over the walls, the corpses of other students laying across the floor, already rotting. The empty ruins of the Three Broomsticks. And in front of him, with a large gash across her throat - face covered in tears, clothes drenched in blood - she stood shakily. Her eyes were empty, dead, without a soul, but she was looking at him. A half-gasp half-sob escaped him, a couple of tears escaping his eyes when he did, and he immediately had to look away from the ghastly image.

"Please don't let me die, Harry." She said. "Please… help me. You got me into this, please, Harry, save me!"

Suddenly, Montague appeared in front of him. One of his legs blown out while the other bleeding profusely, and on his face, a large, deep cut of the letter M. "She's got a point."

"Fuck," Harry bit out, walking away from both corpses as he looked straight at a spot on the wall.

"I mean, my question is what did you think was going to happen here?" Montague said, his voice almost childish. "What, did you think you were just going to kill me, get away with it and then live out your happily ever after? And with her, of all people!" He laughed. "I mean… she's a Hufflepuff, for fuck's sake. Her life has all been sunshine and rainbows and happiness. What, after a couple of private sessions from you in the DA, you think she's ready to take on this brutal, despairing life of yours?"

"I…"

"Don't… don't just stand there!" Montague whined. "Look at her."

He felt how Montague grabbed his jaw and forced him to turn around, only for Susan to only be inches away from his face. Eyes sunken and her skin red-coloured, her body was bloated, with half of her teeth having fallen out. It almost looked as if her very skin was peeling off her skeleton. Her dead eyes were looking at him… blaming him…

"It was my fault," he blurted out, closing his eyes.

"Your fault," she echoed fiercely.

"You… you're dead because of me."

"And yet here you are… alive. I died because of you, while you get to drink and fuck your way into sleep. Does that seem fair?

"I'm sorry," the words felt like a knife cutting at his throat. "I'm so sorry."

"But Susan isn't the only person you've hurt, hasn't it?" Montague drawled.

And in a second, the girl in front of him disappeared - a relieving yet haunting occurrence. And in her place stood another girl, as tall as her, only instead wearing Slytherin robes and looking very much alive.

"No," Harry shook his head, brushing away the tears from his face. "No… that's not on me. You drugged me. You helped Montague attack me."

"So I deserved to be sent to rot to Azkaban?" Davis asked. "To be made a dementor's play thing?"

"You of all people know how crushing living around dementors can be, Harry," Montague said snidely.

"You made your choice," Harry said coldly. "As far as I'm concerned, I merely settled our debt."

"You have a funny way of settling debts, don't you?" Montague said. The night sky shined down upon them. A large orb of the world hovered above the centre of the tower, surrounded by three rings, each larger than the other. Telescopes and parchment scattered all around the floor. When a loud howl rang from beneath, Harry's eyes were drawn to the Whomping Willow.

A large creature, nearly fifteen feet tall and bulky, towered over three small figures. Covered in fur and filled with rage, it launched itself towards the figures, only to be halted by a large black dog that was still dwarfed by the size of the werewolf.

"You remember this night, don't you?" Montague asked, propping himself beside him on the railing of the tower. "Been thinking about it a lot recently, haven't you?"

"Lupin earnt what he got." Harry said coolly.

"Did he? What, so he lied about knowing your parents, boohoo. He was still there, wasn't he? Watching over you, inviting you to have tea and ask about your life. Treating you like no one ever had before. He was there, and maybe, if given time, he could've been what you wanted him to be. You were even about to tell him about what I did to you, remember? He could have been a sort of uncle for you if you had just kept your temper in check. But you didn't. You blackmailed him, called him a disgusting beast. Threaten to sell him out to the Aurors and be there when they executed him."

"He tossed me aside when I begged for help."

"Of course he did," Montague said flatly. "You threatened to kill him. For fuck's sake, Harry, you understood that, even back then. You're just throwing a hissy fit because he helped Black in locking you up. You knew he was angry, you knew he wouldn't help you. Why else would you have not exposed him during all those months when you had the chance?"

"I was being kind."

"No, you were being reasonable. And then you lost it all. You saw Lupin and Longbottom and you snapped. Your pride and jealousy, you couldn't handle seeing the person you envied the most being so chummy with Lupin, couldn't you? It didn't matter you had burnt every bridge with the man, Longbottom was stealing the last thing close to a family you still had left. Just look at you, mate."

He appeared right beside him. Black messy hair, round glasses, and about half a foot shorter than him, a mirror reflection of his younger self. He was looking at the madness below, his eyes shining as a cruel smile grew on his face.

"You were enjoying this," Montague said. "I've never seen you look so happy, not even in your first months at Hogwarts. Look at that smile. To hell if Lupin killed people because you tampered with his potion. To hell if he could never turn back to being human again. All because of your petty revenge, your reckless need to believe you aren't weak. Inadequate. Pitiful. And yet, you still have the gall to consider yourself a good person. Still fearing becoming a monster, Potter, wake up. You turned into one long before you killed me."

Harry looked downwards, away from his younger self and the fight going on below. He saw them, along the walls of the castle, all of them watching. A mass of students peering from the parapets of the walls. Their murmurs, their fearful expressions as a couple of the teachers tried to herd them back into the castle.

"Don't act like you care," Montague scoffed. "You were happy to set Lupin loose inside the castle. You thought it yourself, you didn't care how many brats Lupin slaughtered in his away around the castle. It was only a miracle he didn't. A miracle no one died or Lupin wasn't permanently harmed. See, the difference between me and you, is that I never actually killed anybody, Potter. But you… you could've killed a herd of children and not batted an eye."

A demented cackle sounded in his ear as a red-headed young man walked around him and placed himself in front of Montague. "And at thirteen no less. What potential! Think of all the little kiddies you'll kill before you even turn seventeen."

"I… no. That's not me… I'm not-"

"A killer?"

"Like you," Harry said fiercely.

Dolohov groaned, putting his hands to his face and moving wildly as his whine got louder. "Why are you still so set on lying to yourself? You're a monster, remember? Like me. Like Montague and everyone else in this cruel world. There are no heroes here. And after all you've seen, after all you've done, why hold on to your stupid morals, to your sense of still being in the right. Why not just… snap."

"Because…"

"Because…" Dolohov mocked. "You don't even know, do you? You know you want to. Escape from filthy little cell and kill them all. First, start with Snape and Black. Add Lupin to the mix, you've already ruined his life, why not just finish the job. Then go to that bitch Tonks and slit her throat. Show Dumbledore where he can shove his redemptive words. And then just everyone else for the fun of it. Moody, the Golden Trio. Fuck, why not go back to Hogwarts and kill those stupid Slytherins as well, we both know they won't keep your secret forever. And why stop there? Why not go on and on and realise the truth… you'll never get a better feeling than when you're inflicting your pain upon the others."

"Because I'm not like you."

"Oh, but you so want to be. I can feel it, how much you'd love it to finally break free. What has this world ever done for you? Why are you still so dead set on stopping yourself from getting what you really want? Why can't you just accept that, deep down, you're just… like… ME?"

Shadowfield Estate

January 2nd, 1996

11:30 a.m.

She had promised herself she would never come back to this house. Not that she'd ever liked it. Growing up with her family had been one of the most taxing experiences in her life, not even going to Hogwarts was fully freeing She'd ended up in Slytherin like they'd wanted her to and she'd always been smart enough to not defy her family directly - especially not for meaningless things. And though she had forced herself to still keep an amiable, if a bit distant, relationship, with her sisters and her cousins, she had hated every second of it.

For as much as Hogwarts was an escape for her, she was still inside her cage. Forced to attend family dinners and partake with people whose ideals she detested. Thankfully, Ted had been more than understanding and never pressured her into revealing their relationship to everyone else. So sweet and kind to the cold, distant girl she was back then, she still didn't know how he managed to win her over with such an ease.

It wasn't until she'd admitted it to her family that she'd truly felt free. It had rattled them, just as she had hoped, but she hadn't cared as they disowned her and attempted to outright attack her whenever they saw her. And unfortunately, it was a decision that made them into some of the most wanted people by the Death Eaters during the first war.

Albus had kept them safe during the most deadly years of the war, hiding them in Order safe-houses even after she and Ted had declined joining the vigilante group. Neither of them had ever agreed with the brutal methods they used, how they chose to fight the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters on their own. If the Aurors were given a lot of leniency during the war, it was nothing compared to what the Order did.

They would help in cases of emergency, looking over the injured members in stressful nights. A way to repay what Albus had done for them, and something that turned into an unspoken agreement between them. But she had never been involved with them, had never allowed herself to attend meetings or figure out too much of what they did. Something she had immediately regretted when the poor boy had been hauled to her room. Pale as a corpse, blood dripping out of his eyes and a large, cursed gash on his back.

It wasn't until she did everything she could that she found out the truth, the reason why she had returned to the dammed walls of Shadowfield Estate. She had been surprised when Sirius' name had been brought up in the attack of the boy. Her kind cousin who was too much of a troublemaker for his own good, he had always been closer to James Potter than any of his family members. Harry had been the reason for Sirius escaping Azkaban in the first place… she hadn't believed it at first. But surprised didn't cover what she felt when she found out her own daughter was involved in the ambush.

She had never looked worse, thinner than the last time she saw her and with purple bags under her eyes, on any other occasion she may have felt there was no need to reprimand her. The lesson had clearly been learnt. But not this time, not with the gravity of the situation. And to her right, hunched over one of the armchairs in the living room, sat Sirius. Twitching and shaking, his eyes had a demented edge to them as they raced around every corner of the room. He looked even paler than Harry had yesterday, and unlike with her daughter… there was no remorse in his expression. His face was twisted into a snarl of anger that almost seemed to be permanently etched to it.

A fading shade of the man he used to be, and not just in the physical sense. The Sirius she knew would have never done something so atrocious. Especially to his own godson.

"What have you done?"

"For fuck's sake," Sirius growled, forcing himself to stand from his chair. "I'm not doing this anymore. Get the fuck out of my house."

"That was a kid, Sirius!" Andromeda snapped. "James' kid, your kid. Your responsibility. Did you not think of that as you beat him up and snapped his wand?"

"That's precisely what I was thinking of," Sirius snarled. "What I did… I did the responsible thing. The one thing all of you would have been unable to do."

"How can you say that?"

"Because we don't change, Andromeda! Me… my parents, our family. Snape, fucking everyone else. All of us… who were born into a cursed family, who were sorted into an ill-fated house, who have done monstrous things and excused them as necessary. The best thing anyone can do is put each and every one of us down and be done with it."

"Harry's just a boy." Andromeda said fiercely. "A boy who was abused. Who was tortured and forced to bear a cursed mark for the rest of his life. Who was just tortured by his own Head of House with no guarantees he'll ever wake up-"

"Good," Sirius said coldly.

"What?" Nymphadora said, staring at her cousin as if she didn't know him anymore.

"Good." He echoed. "Snape just did every one of us a favour. The best thing for everyone is for Potter to be six feet under the ground. Where he won't hurt anyone ever again, where he can't disparage his parent's memory anymore."

"You weren't a good kid yourself," Andromeda said coldly. "If I recall correctly, you tried to use one of your best friends to kill Snape without him knowing it. If you truly believe that, then you should have been put down as well."

"You're God damn right, I should have." Sirius said instantly. "Someone should have put me down before I even did that. Before I let Regulus played me. Before I could get James and Lily killed. Before I left Harry on his own and allowed him to become the monster he is now. This world would be a much better place if someone had just had the balls and killed me straight."

"You…" Nymphadora looked on the verge of tears, and even took a few steps away from Sirius. "You've been saying Harry's a monster for so long, I actually believed that. You… how could I ever let you convince me we were doing the right thing? You're so much worse than him."

"You're only noticing this now?"

"You disgust me!" Nymphadora spat, turning around and heading towards the door. "I should have never trusted you."

"Why didn't you kill him then?" Andromeda asked after the door crashed shut. "If he's really such a monster and the world would be so much better without him… then why didn't you kill him?"

Sirius didn't answer at first, looking away, he saw her cousin deflate for a moment before his expression hardened once more. "Because I was weak."

"You're sick, Sirius," Andromeda said, feeling a mixture of pity and revulsion at the man in front of her. "Look at you. Azkaban fucked you up. Have you even been taking your potions?"

"Azkaban didn't break me, it gave me clarity. All your stupid potions were doing was making me agreeable, susceptible, weak. I don't need them anymore. I'm not taking them anymore!"

"You spent thirteen years in the maximum security ward at Azkaban, surrounded by dementors. You need help."

"And you need to leave."

"Very well," she gritted out, grabbing her wand from the table and standing up. But instead of walking towards the door, she went straight towards Sirius. "If you want to throw your life down the drain, that's on you. You're more than welcome to fuck off and die on your own. But Harry Potter is a child, and from this moment, I am making him my responsibility. I'm moving to Grimmauld full time with Ted… and if you ever dare to step foot in that house again… I will personally curse you and throw you in the same cell where you dumped Harry."

She turned around, her rage driving her towards the door. And just as she was about to leave the room, she heard Sirius pick something up and launch it at her. She closed the door just in time for the glass vase to hit the wood and shatter into little pieces that landed on the floor.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Parkinson Palace

1:35 p.m.

It had been his third-year at Hogwarts when he had been introduced to the concept of Murphy's Law. It was after one of the Gryffindor Quidditch players had had a particularly shit day. One where a thunderstorm formed as soon as the entire team reached the Quidditch pitch the day before the final match of the year. Where a jarvey had stolen his essay of the Care for Magical Creatures class before escaping with it into the forest. Where a group of pixies had managed to steal his wand and hang him on the chandelier in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom during his final examination. Where he slept in through his Astronomy final, even after his classmates tried to wake him up.

The concept of it had always been interesting to him. How would a day when everything that could go wrong, went wrong? What would that entail for him? Unfortunately, his questions were answered two nights ago when everything went to shit. They didn't find Harry, and apparently learnt that he was being investigated by the DMLE, and just now, Yaxley had told the group what had happened at Azkaban.

"The Dark Lord has Rookwood?" His grandfather asked. His voice was cool, but he had been around him long enough to know his subtle signs of worry. Though perhaps they came from the other surprise in the room.

Ever since he returned from Blackstone House, he noticed the change, almost as if it were palpably in the very air. While his grandfather had heeded his advice to be wary of Pansy and her still unknown loyalties towards the mission as it conflicted with her views of the Dark Lord, now he had suddenly admitted her to this crucial meeting. He was keeping her close to him, having her sit beside him and giving her the menial tasks he used to charge him with.

His grandfather would have not made such an important decision on a whim, and there were exceedingly low chances that Pansy had somehow tricked him. Which meant she had finally settled on her side for this war, something that brought him a mix of relief, happiness, and a slight hint of envy that his grandfather would suddenly drop him and show the clear preference he'd always had for Pansy by making her his second in command.

Still, he had been hoping for months - years - that his sister would eventually see reason and decide to turn against the Dark Lord. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum when she finally did.

"An unfortunate matter, I'm aware." Yaxley said. "But the mission wasn't exactly a piece of piss either. Having ulterior motives within the proximity of the Dark Lord is dangerous enough, to sneak out a person of interest out of a prison he easily sieged was simply suicidal."

"This is not good," Kieran said.

"Well next time kid, you can be the one to get inside the dementor-infested hellhole," Yaxley smiled nastily.

"The Dark Lord can't have him for long," his grandfather said forcefully. "The continued exposure to the dementors Rookwood faced will help us, his mind is most likely shattered at this point. The Dark Lord will have to work on rebuilding it before being able to explore it fully."

"That… could actually help us." Yaxley said.

"Are you nominating yourself again for the dementor infested hellhole?" Carrow smirked at him.

"Not exactly, most of the work is done already."

"What do you mean?" Pansy asked.

"I wasn't able to get Rookwood out, but I managed to build in a failsafe. I destroyed the chains that were holding him and transfigured a couple of rocks into new chains, identical to the ones at Azkaban."

"Which means the transfigured chains will eventually go back to being rocks," Pansy said.

"Precisely," Yaxley smiled. "There was only the matter of convincing the savage beast to run for his life once they did. It was an easy fix, the imperius curse I placed on him will do the job. We just need to help him escape… clear the way, if you will… all of this is off the record, isn't it?" He said, looking towards the other young man standing near the door. "Or are we going to have to curse the boy too?"

"I made him go through the same oaths and rituals as we all did," his grandfather said calmly. "At least for this meeting, his mouth is sealed."

"You people… you are… trying to defy the Dark Lord… and kidnap one of his hostages!?"

"Kidnapping his hostages is only the breads and crumbs of this conspiracy of ours," Carrow smiled saucily. "The end goal is to kill him."

"Of course it is…" Flint shook his head in disbelief before murmuring. "How did I end up choosing the craziest, most brain-dead people out there to help me?"

"Mister Flint," his grandfather said with a soft smile. "Our goal, while slightly mad, I must admit, is for the good of everyone in this country. What are your views on the Dark Lord? If I recall correctly… your family never served him in this… in this last war."

"I'm just trying to get by," Flint shrugged. "Whatever doesn't get me killed. Which I guess is good my involvement in… whatever this is, will remain hidden when the Dark Lord eventually kills you lot."

"I rather think our chances are pretty good," Yaxley commented offhandedly.

"I don't think… you know what… it's none of my business. I just want to help Potter. I do that, and then I leave you lot be. Is that a deal?"

"Of course, Mister Flint." His grandfather said kindly. "I thank you for bringing this to our attention, Harry Potter has become the subject of our utmost importance. We'll conduct our own search, but we'd also appreciate you to provide us with whatever the DMLE has on the boy, their progress on tracking him and the areas they've searched."

"Of course." Flint nodded. "I'll try to get you that information by tomorrow."

"If you wish to leave, you're free to do so. Though feel more than welcome to stay, none of us will have issue with that."

"I'll be taking my leave," Flint smiled curtly, looking as though he wished nothing more than to run out of the room.

"Going back to the important subject," Yaxley drawled once Flint closed the door. "What are we going to do about Rookwood."

"You've set the foundation for a possible extraction." His grandfather said, looking far away in a pensive manner. "A smart move on your part, one in which Rookwood can attempt his escape without any of us being pinned for it. How long do your transfigurations usually last?"

"Between two and three days. I could transfigure something and examine the magic in the objects back at my lab, that should give us a tighter window of opportunity."

"You go do that. I'll come up with a distraction from within the prison, a believable one that will draw the attention of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Carrow, you'll need to hover on the waters surrounding the prison. The moment Rookwood manages to escape, you'll bring him back to the Manor, and we'll begin working on him."

"You're going to use the potion you're working on with Circe and the Dark Lord, aren't you?" Kieran asked.

"Indeed," his grandfather smiled proudly at him. "It will help us bring Rookwood back to his feet, and we'll attempt to include him into our conspiracy."

"We really need a name for it," Carrow mused.

"And what about the Flint boy? You're trying to get him into our little mission as well?" Yaxley asked.

"Someone inside the DMLE would be of use, as we saw with the information he offered to provide us only moments ago. We'll see how he feels about it around these next few months in which he's working with us."

"And if he says no?" Yaxley asked suggestively.

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to look elsewhere," his grandfather shrugged.

"You're no fun," Yaxley rolled his eyes.

"We have a limited timetable and a lot of work ahead of us," his grandfather said, stranding from his chair as he dismissed everyone. "We need to start working on this if we hope to get Rookwood out of Azkaban. It will be our only attempt to do so, we can't let it go to waste."

As everyone started following in his grandfather's unbidden commands and began standing up and leaving the study to go to the floo, Kieran caught Pansy's arm and held her back momentarily.

"Grandfather let you into the meeting?" He asked, unable to keep a hint of glee from his voice.

"No," she said dryly. "I sneaked in without him noticing."

Kieran ignored her and smiled. "So does that mean you've finally done it? You… you finally decided?"

"Are you really here trying to gloat?"

"Not gloat," he waved her off. "It's just… I'm so happy you finally… you know… came to your senses. That you're finally seeing things how I see them."

She bit her lip. "Fine… I guess you were right… the Dark Lord may be more of a problem than a solution. That still doesn't mean I believe all your bullshit about muggle rights and all of that shit."

"Baby steps, little sister," he smiled, before giving Pansy a hug. "Baby steps."

That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!

Next chapter will come out Monday, February 13th at 10PM CST. The big finale of the What We Leave Behind arc, so be excited!

By the time I'm posting this, I'm SIX chapters ahead, and I'm in the process of wrapping up the next arc titled The Devil's Greatest Trick , which ended up being longer than I expected. It deals with the full aftermath of the What We Leave Behind arc as we see the last of the Winter Break before the return to Hogwarts! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)