Thank you to everyone who reviewed!
BEHOLD! AN UPDATE! AT ONE-THIRTY IN THE MORNING!
I did say this one would come early, did I not? Hopefully you guys weren't driven too crazy with the couple days of waiting. Curse me and my sort-of-cliff-hangers. Also, the early hour is because I'm kinda-sorta nocturnal. I think I wake up at noon and stay up till eight or ten in the morning. Usually I update before I go to bed, but I decided to do it now instead.
When I wrote this chapter, it took me a couple of tries. I debated with myself a lot over what to do, and in the end it was Harry's character that made me decide where to take things. I wanted to make Harry more independent, and help him grow more, and, while this chapter didn't lead exactly where I originally planned, it allows for growth.
Don't hate me.
Oh! Before I forget, I did say I would reveal our poll winner for which character from the Avengers Harry will be meeting first. So here goes.
In third place, we have the most awesome agent in all of Shield, Phil Coulson.
In Second, the sexy and dangerous Natasha Romanoff.
And, in first place, winning by a landslide, we have the amazing, the incredible…
Drum roll please…
Bruce Banner! AKA The Incredible Hulk!
Oh! Two last things. Then that's it. Promise. First, I send thanks to the most wonderful Flaming Crow, who drew a beautiful bit of fanart for this story. There is a link on my page for anyone interested. Second, as you may have noticed, we have changed ratings from T to M. I didn't know for certain if that was needed, but I opted to take the wiser route of 'better safe than sorry'.
So there you have it. Now, on to the story.
Enjoy.
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The ministry of magic was a very different place at night, without the flying missives or people. They traveled carefully, following Susan into the elevators, and the lack of people made Harry nervous even with it making this easier for them. They didn't speak as they went, and with a whispered word from the Hufflepuff girl, the elevator was moving. They all became more and more tensed when it moved, and especially so when they reached the department of mysteries. Harry and Blaise each peeked out, and when they were certain no one was there, they moved out. There was a large door here, dark and foreboding, and they moved to it.
"Padma, Parvati, you two keep guard here. Use the coins if the elevator starts moving, so the rest of us have a heads-up. Keep yourselves hidden." They nodded and Harry praised the absent Hermione for having made the nifty little coins, and the gods of luck for everyone having them on their persons. He nodded back at the girls, feeling queasy, and the rest of them moved through the door. They kept close, huddled together so that they kept touching shoulders and arms, Harry at the front of them, his wand raised and giving of a faint green light.
They shuffled through the new hall that was revealed to them, a long, dark corridor, with another door at the end, and they all jumped and looked back as one when the door behind them slammed shut of its' own accord. Harry swallowed, exchanging glances with the others, and the nine of them continued on. The next room made Harry blink. It was circular, with many doors of various shape, size, and color, and as soon as the door was shut behind them, they all stumbled and grasped each other for support because the room was moving. It seemed to spin itself in a circle, and then stop, and they each looked at each other and the various doors in silence for a minute.
"You reckon we should split up?" Ernie asked. His face didn't show much interest in doing so, despite the question, and Harry shook his head.
"Not to go through the doorways no. Two of you should stay in this room though, to keep guard like the girls."
"Me and Ernie can do it." Terry suggested, and Harry nodded.
"Use the disillusionment charm. I've got a feeling wrong turns will lead back here, but I don't want anyone else to see you." They nodded, and Harry chose a door at random, entering it.
The room they entered was filled with clocks, hourglasses, and strange devices all of various sizes, shapes, and colors. They kept just as those together as before, eyeing everything around themselves carefully. They passed by a large tank of some sort. Harry watched a few moments, fascinated, as an egg at the bottom rose to the top, hatching and becoming a bird that aged until it became old and weathered, and then returned to the bottom, reversing the process until it was an egg once more. He didn't realise how distracted he had become by it, until Daniel touched his arm.
The others all looked curiously at him, and he nodded in thanks to Daniel for bringing him back to his senses, as Luna smiled knowingly. They moved on, skirting around one side of a giant hourglass filled with sparkling purple sand. On the other side of it was more devices, and then a door. Harry eyed the door. It wasn't the one from his vision, but it was... familiar... somehow. They went through it, and Harry recognized the dark corridor beyond it even more. The door at the end, he was certain that was the one Nagini had slithered under.
"This is it." His whispered proclamation, spoken more to himself than anything else, had the others tensing. They edged towards the door carefully; slowly. They stopped before it, and Harry stared at the door with trepidation, anxiety curling inside his belly. He pushed it down, swallowed, and opened the door.
The room beyond was just as in his dream. They were surrounded by shelves. There were rows and rows of them filled with glowing blue orbs, each the same size and shape, and with swirling smoke within them. He glanced at them as they passed, almost certain he could see moving, half formed shapes within, but whenever he started to make them out, they would dissolve back into smoke. He counted the rows, wand at the ready as he came closer and closer to the one he knew he had seen Sirius sprawled upon the floor of. He flung up his wand as he turned the corner of it and stared.
"I don't understand, he should... This is-" His face turned confused. There was no Sirius, no Voldemort, no death eaters. No blood or sign of a struggle. There was nothing. The others milled around him curiously and anxiously, and Daniel and Seamus stepped forward to look about. He looked down in thought, beginning to consider his options, and Seamus called out.
"Harry! It's got your name!" He looked up. The Gryffindor was pointing at one of the orbs, and Harry walked over to it. He realized, that the boy pointing, not at the orb, but at the bronze label beneath it.
Harry Potter?
He blinked at it. Gingerly, he reached out to touch it. His fingers brushed over it, and he was surprised to find that it was warm, and there was no dust on it, despite the thick amounts of it on the surrounding shelf. Before he had realized what he was doing, he had pulled it from the shelf.
"Harry!" His head snapped up, meeting Blaise's dark eyes. "Put that back! You have no idea what it is!" He would have responded, and opened his mouth to do so, but was beaten to it by another voice.
"It seems the dark lord was right, when he said you would come for your precious godfather." They all turned, wands raised, as one, to see Lucius Malfoy, several other death eaters standing behind him. Harry felt his stomach drop, as he understood, for the first time, that this was a trap.
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Harry threw as many curses as he knew over his shoulder in quick succession as they ran, pushing down more and more shelves that just hit and pushed even more down like dominoes. The sounds of so many different voices coming from the orbs saying different things mixed with the sounds of screeching metal, breaking glass, and the various D.A. members and their pursuers screaming spells. It filled his sensitive ears and made them nearly ready to bleed. He winced at the sounds. They came into the time room and Harry yelled.
"Hurry! Keep moving!" He spun in place and held his ground. The others, trusting him, ran past without hesitation. The last was Neville, and as soon as he was certain the teen was out of the way, he sent a bone-shattering curse at the gigantic purple hourglass. It wasn't made of bone, but the curse still served its' purpose, and the great thing exploded, sending violet sand cascading outwards like a mini-avalanche. Harry turned and ran after the others, hoping his action would at least hinder the death eaters. There had been seven of them aside from Malfoy, but he was sure there were more on the way. This trap reeked of desperation, and Harry knew that, for some reason, Voldemort was unlikely to stop at anything to get the orb he was now carrying; keeping it carefully close to his chest and doing his utmost best not to drop it as he ran.
The others hesitated at the door at the end of the room, and Harry began to hear the pounding of feet behind him as Voldemort's minions finally got past the sand. He pushed the few still on this side of the door through and slammed it behind them, sending as many locking spells at it as he knew. The others pitched in, Blaise and Neville even including a few more. Something pounded against the other side and he knew it wouldn't hold them for long. Something in the air shimmered to his left and he knew it was the two disillusioned members of the D.A. Thoughts of them had a sudden idea snapping into place in his mind and he turned to the others.
"Disillusion yourselves and get against the walls in between the doors. Don't move a muscle!" They all scrambled to do as he ordered and he had just managed the one on himself when the door shattered outwards. He sucked in a breath and covered his mouth with a hand, trying to be as silent as possible. Lucius Malfoy stepped inside, and Harry prayed that their ruse would hold. The man looked around and then cast some sort of spell, and Harry felt his stomach drop. He prepared himself as the man opened his mouth.
"That way! They're in there!" He pointed at one of the doors and Harry's eyes widened. The masked figures behind the blonde man scrambled to go to it, rushing within the room beyond without a second thought. Lucius followed them more leisurely and paused just at the door. His eyes moved straight to Harry's position and ne nodded, before following the others. Harry stared after him, mouth open, and as the door closed the room began spinning again. His heart in his throat, he took the illusion off of himself, the others doing the same.
"What now?" Daniel looked anxiously at him, the other teens all with either similar expressions or ones of determination. He swallowed.
"We need to get out of here. I think... I think it was all a trap." He whispered the last bit, though the others heard him clearly, guilt making him feel sick. He had dragged them all after him and it had turned out to be nothing but a trap. His mind went back to the vision, and to Nagini's apology, and he realized she had been apologizing for the ruse, not the harm to Sirius. He swallowed, suddenly so confused, and someone grabbed his arm. His eyes snapped up, meeting a darker shade, and Blaise kept his tone even.
"We can talk about it later. Right now we need to go." He nodded. Blaise picked a door seemingly at random, but when they went in they found themselves back in the elevator lobby room. The Patils removed the spells on themselves, and Harry nodded at them rather than speak. They had never set off the coins, so the death eaters must have already been there before they arrived. They all crowded back inside the elevator, and Harry wasn't sure who gave the command, but within moments they were moving up.
He caught his breath, not really understanding why he needed to, as he has never needed to catch his breath after running ever since the animagus debacle. He pushed the thought aside for the time being, and sighed. He shifted on his feet, bumping into the others a bit, and someone put a hand on his arm. He found it to be Luna when he looked, and she smiled gently at him.
"There's more nargles." She whispered, and he stared blankly at her, raising an eyebrow at her oddness. She stopped smiling as the elevator began to slow, and her usually glassy eyes turned sharp and clear. Harry was immediately on guard, and raised his wand just as the machine stopped.
"Ministry of Magic, Main floor." The pleasant announcing voice told them, and as the doors opened, some feeling or instinct had Harry raising a shield. A blast of angry red light slammed into it almost as soon as he had done so, and a cackle filled the air. Harry's hair stood on end at the sound. It was a woman's voice, rather than a man's, so he knew it wasn't the Dark Lord. The tone of it though, frightened him. Whoever the woman was, she was likely out of her right mind. He kept the shield up as he moved forward, and gave only one command to the rest of his group.
"Stay together." His voice was firm and almost angry, hiding the true fear he felt from them, and they were emboldened by his apparent bravery. As soon as they were out of the elevator, the woman was revealed to them. Harry recognized her, and her violently curly and messy black hair from the wanted posters in Hogsmeade. She was Bellatrix Lestrange. She wasn't alone, there were five other death eaters near her, each wearing the black robes and silver masks that she lacked; dressed as he was in a messy, torn, red gown.
"Bombarda!" She dodged his spell rather than deflect it, twisting away from the tile where she had stood when it exploded like some sort of demented ballerina. Blaise threw a sickly green curse over his shoulder that was just a tad off-color from the killing curse and she dodged that one as well. When it hit the ground it made it melt and hiss as though acid had been thrown on it, and Harry assumed the spell was likely not a very legal one. He and Blaise continued casting at her, the others all seeming to team up against various others, and the world around them became filled with yells of curses and lights in every shade of color.
"Confringo!"
"Ventus!"
"Defodio!"
"Crucio!"
"Reducto!"
"Depulso!"
"Incendio!" The sounds of the spells was temporarily blocked out as Harry was suddenly forced to duck and roll to avoid a jet of flame. It whooshed over his head with a sound not unlike a roar, and he felt the heat of it against his skin as it just barely missed him. Something in him howled at the close proximity of the fire and there was a split second wherein he was acutely aware of his being a creature of water. He felt bile rising up and swallowed it down before leaping back to his feet, turning a scathing glare upon the insane woman who had just attempted to roast him alive. She laughed at him and he snarled, the expression twisting his face into something distinctly inhuman. Her smile faded a bit, her eyes now filled with confusion and just the smallest amount of fear. He grinned then, the action being more like an animal baring their teeth than a smile, and it showed off his sharp fangs that the newer glamour couldn't hide. Her eyes widened, and their dance began again, his curses turning nearly as vicious as hers.
He had her on the defensive now, having made her nervous and less confident. He was relentless, barely stopping to breathe between each spell, and Blaise stood next to him doing much the same, having caught on to Harry's new tactic. Bellatrix ended up dodging and throwing up shields now more than attacking and Harry felt his confidence grow. His vision narrowed as he became focused almost entirely on Bellatrix and himself, and, to a lesser extent, Blaise. The spells came from him almost without thought, falling from his lips through an instinct for magic and battle. The same thing inside him that had howled in anger when faced with the fire now sent forth an endless battle cry as adrenaline burned its' way through his blood like acid.
Blood rushed in his ears, and the world around him began to fade away. He was barely aware of the wide grin on his face, not too different from the one Bellatrix had possessed earlier, caught as he was in the surging tide of battle and the sight of blood from what small wounds he successfully inflicted upon his opponent. Then the moment was shattered with the sound of a piercing scream. It jarred him violently, unexpected as it was, and the state was shattered as the rest of the world suddenly rushed in on him. He turned, watching in slow motion as one of the Patil sisters ran towards the other, who had been hit with a crucio, if the fading red light was anything to go by. The death eater they had been facing was missing his mask now, his face rough and framed by wild dark hair that Harry didn't recognize. The man turned his wand upwards, towards the ceiling above him. Still trapped in the strange slow motion, Harry listened as a Reducto fell from the man's lips, each syllable spoken clearly and decisively.
The roof above them cracked and splintered, and the slow motion was shattered alongside the stone. He screamed something out as the large sections of stone fell upon the girls. He started to run to them, forgetting completely about his own opponent, and his distraction cost him dearly.
"Harry, look out!" The yell made him turn, eyes still wide and shocked from the sight of the twin girls being crushed, and he couldn't raise his wand in time. The spell that hit him was purple in color, and the light of it filled his vision, blinding him to everything else even as pain filled his body, centered on his face and chest. He screamed and was blown backwards, the orb he had kept safe up till now flying from his grip. It landed near him, and he heard it, just barely, before he saw it. It shattered right next to wherever he had landed, and the noise in the rest of the room was loud enough that, when he opened his eyes and saw how far from him all the other occupants of the room were, he knew he was likely the only one close enough to hear it at all, and then only because of his enhanced hearing. It began speaking before his eyes were open, though he recognized Trelawney's voice, though it was strange and deep, before he witnessed her smoky form floating above the shattered orb.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
He stared at it as she faded away, and a woman's screech of rage had him looking up. Bellatrix was staring at him with fury, and he knew at once that Voldemort had wanted the orb, and that Bellatrix hadn't heard what it had said. She raised her wand to cast at him, and he scrambled to find his own, realizing it was on the floor near him. Something wet obscured his vision, and he felt pain even as he moved towards it, scrambling to reach it.
"Avada Kedavra!" Her wrathful voice filled the air just before his hand closed around the stick of holly, and dread pooled in his stomach when he recognized that he would not be able to get away in time.
"Depulso!" A new voice reached his ears and Harry was sent skidding across the floor just in time for the horrible green curse to explode against the ground where he had been just a moment before. He sucked in a sharp breath as he slid and rolled, pain slicing angrily through him. He pushed himself to his feet as he stopped, gasping and looking up, no longer able to open his left eye as the hot, wet, liquid, which he understood queasily must be blood, had covered too much of that side of his face.
He found his eyes landing on Sirius, who stared with absolute fury upon Bellatrix. Other Order members rushed in behind him, Arthur Weasley, Kingsley, and Tonks among them and began to immediately cast curses. Relief and terror flooded his body all at once with the coming of the back-up, as he grasped they were not alone in the fight any longer, and there was a great possibility of his father being harmed. His worry faded somewhat as Sirius and Bellatrix began to duel, the battle looking almost like a dance, as they both weaved and dodged and struck in a manner that showed their familiarity with one another. He remembered the summer, when Sirius had shown him the family tapestry, and recalled that he and the woman were related somehow. They were cousins. The thought of two people who had likely grown up side by side fighting so viciously and possibly to the death made him feel faintly sick. A curse flew over his head and he was distracted. He turned away from them to the sight of another death eater, which Neville and Seamus were facing together, and seemed to be struggling with. He moved to help, as Seamus was limping and Neville favored one side, and was soon lost in the battle once more.
They were emboldened by his help, and within minutes they had begun to win. Harry sent a cutting hex beneath the shield the man threw up to block one of Seamus' spells, and it hit his chest dead on. The death eater gasped in pain, and his shield dropped. Neville finished him off with a simple Stupefy that had their opponent on the floor and unconscious, even as the wound Harry inflicted continued to bleed. Harry felt a sense of victory, and smiled at the other Gryffindors before turning to survey the rest of the situation. There were a couple more death eaters present than there had been when they had first entered the lobby, and he wondered vaguely when they had arrived. A couple of them were on the ground, one appearing to be out cold while the other wasn't moving, blood pooling around despite a lack of visible wounds. The order members looked to be handling those who were left, and he saw that Luna was down, though breathing, with Daniel keeping guard over her. Blaise was slumped against a wall, breathing hard, with his wand out and a shield around him. The others were all still fighting. His eyes moved back to Sirius and Bellatrix and he cried out.
"Sirius!" They were both grinning madly, much as he himself had been earlier, and seemed oblivious to the world around them. What made him cry out, however, was the masked death eater sneaking up behind his father. His cry had Sirius starting and then turning to look at him. Their eyes met just as a red light flew from the death eater's wand. He yelled out, but Sirius managed to duck, seeing the spell from the corner of his eye. He retaliated with a bright orange spell of some sort that had the man slamming backwards against the wall and sliding to the ground where he remained unmoving. Sirius flashed him a grin and Harry started to smile himself, when a green light exploded against his father's back. He screamed in anger, disbelief, and pain, and watched helplessly as the light faded from the man's eyes.
Sirius fell to the ground like a ragdoll, his limbs flopping to the sides like a puppet with cut strings, and Bellatrix was revealed from behind him, grinning madly with her wand still pointed at her cousin's back. Harry roared. Her eyes snapped to him and she paled, grin suddenly gone, and turned tail. He chased her, no thoughts of holding back his speed, and was suddenly sent sprawling; someone having sent a tripping jinx at hm. He snarled, and jumped back to his feet in time to see the edge of her ragged dress disappear around a corner. He dodged a couple more spells as he pursued her, and barely heard the sound of someone behind him calling out his name. He rounded the corner she had gone into, and found himself back at the entrance to the ministry of magic. She was nowhere in sight, and he growled low and long, and lifted his face to sniff the air just as he might have done had he been in his animagus form. The scent of sweat and human fear touched his nose and his growls grew louder. He edged towards the gaudy statue and continued to sniff; as the scent led him ever closer to the structure.
She suddenly leapt from behind it and sent a curse at him. She still wasn't smiling like before, and not yelling out taunts either as she had occasionally during his and Blaise's battle with her. He slipped easily beneath the curse and rushed her, thoughts of his own wand barely present. Her eyes widened almost comically just before he leapt upon her; sending her dark wand sprawling across the stone floor with a clatter in the process. She started to struggle almost immediately, and he snarled in rage. The sound made her flinch, and one of his hands clasped tightly around her throat even as her struggles increased. He kept one of her arms pinned down, and she punched him with the other; striking his head and side and wherever else she could reach. He barely felt the blows, his anger combined with past experiences with beatings serving to effectively numb him. He tightened his grip and she clawed at him now, her breath cut off. She gasped and struggled desperately, choking.
"You want to know a secret?" Her struggles didn't stop even as her eyes met his. He would wonder later what prompted him to tell her, and would decide that he simply wanted her to know why she was going to die. "James Potter wasn't my father. Sirius Black was." Her eyes widened further, and he suddenly squeezed as tightly as he was able. A sickening crack filled the air and her struggles abruptly ceased, even as her eyes remained moving and alive. She looked around frantically and gurgled, blood dribbling out of her open mouth. Even as she made one last ditch effort for breath, he didn't remove his hand from her neck, and she choked. Whether it was from the lack of air, or the blood entering her lungs, he didn't know, but it didn't matter. Her eyes rolled back and all movement stopped. He kept his hand there a moment longer, and then pulled it away, but she didn't move again. He stared at her, his anger slowly dying, and a cold feeling of completing some goal filled him alongside grief. Sirius was dead, but at least, so too was his killer.
He took no true satisfaction in her death, and suddenly felt sick. He stumbled away from her, falling to his knees and vomiting. The contents emptied quickly enough, mixed occasionally with blood, and he dry-heaved once at the end with a shudder. A sob broke through at the end, and he choked it down, uncomfortably aware that now was neither the time nor the place for tears.
"My dear boy." A hand touched his shoulder gently and he looked up. It was Dumbledore. The old man looked at him with sad, pained eyes, and that same sense of being very very old and tired that he had seen in his office what seemed like years ago. He wiped at his face, wondering why the headmaster hadn't been able to get here sooner, and they both looked up as one of the many fireplaces in this room abruptly flared with green light. They both watched as Voldemort himself, just as he had been that night of the tournament, stepped gracefully through, red eyes moving to them just as his feet touched the ground. The Dark Lord grinned, and Harry felt black hatred curl in his heart at the sight of him. He felt the urge to snarl once more, but held himself back this time, kept in reality only by the headmaster's hand on his shoulder. It was difficult for Harry, to tell how far or how close the horrid monster was, with the blood still keeping him from opening his left eye.
There was a ringing in his ears suddenly, and his vision blurred. He blinked, trying to be able to see with his one open eye, and he realized Voldemort was speaking. His voice felt far away though, and muffled, like it would if he was below the surface of the lake, and someone outside the water was trying to speak to him. He blinked rapidly, and tried to move to his feet. He stumbled, winding up on his knees, and he vaguely heard laughter. His vision grew dark around the edges, the adrenaline fading too much. He struggled in vain, and felt himself fall as the world around him went black.
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Harry kept his eyes closed as he came awake as he could tell that the world around him was bright. When he did open them, he did so slowly, so that his eyes could adjust. Once they had, he recognized the ceiling above him immediately. He was in the hospital wing. His body felt stiff and sore, with the skin near his chest and on his face feeling vaguely stretched. His brow scrunched, and he tried carefully to recall how he had come to be here.
He closed his eyes again, tightly, when the memories of the ministry, of fighting, of Sirius dying, and him taking a life, returned to him in a flash. There was a sense of deep grief in his heart, mixed with no small measure of self disgust; but more than anything he felt numb. He opened his eyes again, and noticed that his fake glasses were missing. He knew he should probably find them, so that no one would think too much about it. He might not need them, but no one else knew that. He pushed himself to a sitting position slowly, and with a deep breath, not wanting to aggravate the soreness he could feel. Usually, when he woke up in Madame Pomfrey's domain he felt even better than normal, so for him to be sore still must mean that he had been even worse off than he might have thought. He sighed as he sat there, and looked over at the bedside table. His wand and glasses sat there, and he gathered them up carefully, noticing as he did, the still present bracelet around his wrist.
A sudden panic filled him. He had entirely forgotten about that. This glamour didn't cover up the scales on his back and sides, and he fearfully realized that meant the nurse had likely seen them when she went to heal him. As soon as this thought had formed, the woman herself came bustling out of her office. He watched her with wide eyes, as she came up to him with a smile. The expression, no different than her usual smile eased him somewhat, but he still swallowed. He grew even tenser as she pulled the curtains closed around the bed and began casting what he recognized as locking, privacy, and silencing charms on them. She turned to him when she was done, and her face grew a bit more serious.
"I feel it best to inform you that all healers take a very serious vow of secrecy as part of their oaths. I cannot share anything about my patients with anyone else unless they permit it." Her eyes landed pointedly on the glamour bracelet. "That said, I would like an explanation, Mr. Potter." He swallowed nervously.
"I became an animagus over the summer but I never took the Salvum Mutat potion." She stared reproachfully at him, but he offered no more information. After several moments, she simply sighed.
"I'm guessing you have your reasons for not sharing, and I have my suspicions as to why. That said, I won't ask, since whatever it is you've become didn't interfere with my spells overly much. In the future, however, I would appreciate it if you alert me to any unique conditions, since it's imperative for me to know such things in order to heal you properly." He nodded, relaxing a bit.
"Did anyone see?" She eyed him a second before answering.
"Professor Snape saw you, however, he seemed to be aware of your condition, and was the one to insist I get you behind the curtains before healing you. He was also quite vocal about removing anyone who didn't require my assistance from thee ward entirely." He nodded.
"How... How is everyone?" He felt a small pang of guilt at having not asked sooner, and her face softened. She sat down then, on the edge of his bed, something she had never done previously, and he pulled his knees closer to his chest.
"Mr. Longbottom had a few broken ribs, which I managed to heal without much fuss. Mr. Finnigan received a rather nasty wound to his right leg which will take a bit more work, but he should be fine, and I imagine that he won't even have a limp once it's been healed entirely. Ms. Bones required to have the bones in one arm regrown. Mr. Zabini's wounds were minor enough, though he did suffer a rather unfortunate case of magical exhaustion. He'll be fine after a couple weeks of proper rest. Misters Boot, Macmillan, Curtis, and Miss Lovegood are all perfectly fine aside from some easily dealt with bruises and minor wounds."
"And the Patils?" His voice was hopeful, but he knew the truth when she hadn't mentioned them. She looked very sad.
"Their funeral is tomorrow." He closed his eyes tightly, guilt tearing ruthlessly at his insides with sharp and jagged claws. He suddenly felt very ill.
"I'm gonna be sick." The nurse summoned a bucket for him, and set it before him just in time. There wasn't much in his stomach aside from water and what looked like the remains of a few potions, and he dry-heaved a few times once those things had been expelled. He sobbed when he was done, and Madame Pomfrey rubbed his arm gently. He didn't cry much, and had soon fought back his tears and gasped. The woman handed him a calming potion, and he took no more than a couple of sips before handing it back to her. He wanted to be in control of his emotions, but he didn't want to suffer through that cold uncaring feeling that calming potions occasionally inspired.
"You yourself received some rather nasty wounds. Someone struck you with a darker form of the cutting curse." He looked up at her, calm now, though with his emotions still churning in the background. "Wounds inflicted by dark magic aren't easily healed, and I did my best, but it will scar." He nodded, feeling that he deserved it. "You had some nasty contusions and bruising, and you lost a great deal of blood. If they had brought you to me even a few minutes later than they did, it's likely you wouldn't have made it. I expect you to take it easy over the next few days, and there are some potions you will need to take on a regular basis for the next few weeks. I'll give you the instructions for those, later. Now, however, you are needed in the headmaster's office. The password is 'lollypop' and I expect you back here as soon as you are done speaking with him. Is that clear?" He nodded obediently, and she helped him to his feet.
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Harry dragged his feet on the way to the headmaster's office, and met no one in the halls. He wasn't far away when someone called out his name, and when he looked, he found he wasn't as surprised as he might have been several months ago, to see Frode looking down upon him from his traveling frame.
"That's a rather nasty scar, lad." He smiled bitterly.
"I deserve it."
"Why is that?"
"Four people are dead because of me." The portrait raised an eyebrow.
"Did you kill them?" Harry blinked.
"I... I killed one of them."
"And why did you kill this person?" He shifted on his feet.
"She... Because she killed my father." The man nodded.
"Am I right in assuming your father is one of those you believe yourself responsible for the death of?" He nodded. "Then what of the other two? How did they come to die?"
"They..." He shuddered, recalling watching as they were crushed beneath the falling stones. "One of the death eaters made the ceiling explode. They were crushed." Frode nodded.
"Then how are you responsible for any deaths other than that of the woman who killed your father?" He glared.
"Because they never would have been there if not for me! I'm the one who fell for Voldemort's stupid trick! I'm the one who lead Padma and Parvati and the others there! And Sirius never would have come if not for that! They would all still be alive If I had never gone to the ministry in the first place!" Frode nodded, and ran a hand through his short, pointed beard.
"You were tricked into going to this place?" Harry nodded defeatedly. "Did you force these girls and your father to follow you there?"
"Well... No, but-"
"Were they in their right minds? Were they sane and capable?"
"Yes, but-"
"Then you are responsible only for the death of your father's killer. They were all perfectly capable of making their own decisions, and chose on their own to follow you to this place. You did not force or coerce them to do so, and nor did you strike the killing blows. They chose to all on their own, and knew the possible repercussions of such actions. To consider yourself responsible would be nothing more than an insult to them. It is like saying you believe they were entire incapable of making their own decisions and living their own lives." He looked sternly down at Harry, and the teen flinched and looked down in thought.
He considered Frode's words, the portrait having never steered him wrong before, and he swallowed. He hadn't considered it that way, and after several moments he was grudgingly forced to concede that the man was right. He hadn't made them do anything, and he hadn't been the one to kill them, even if he felt as though he had. He had killed Bellatrix, that much was true, and so he was fully responsible for her death. He felt very little guilt at that though, and the guilt he felt regarding the others eased considerably, though it didn't go away. He looked back up to thank the portrait, but he was already gone. Harry smiled in a way that wasn't really happy, the expression pulling at the scar on his face uncomfortably, and turned away.
He had a meeting with the headmaster after all.
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Dumbledore welcomed him in with a smile, that, to Harry, seemed entirely inappropriate given the situation and present circumstances. He offered Harry a lemon drop, as always, and when Harry declined, as always, asked him to take a seat. Harry chose to remain standing. The twinkle in the headmaster's eyes seemed diminished by this, but not overly so, and he smiled in a gentle, grandfatherly way at Harry.
Harry felt like punching him, not able to understand what made the old man think it was okay to smile right now, but instead kept his hands fisted at his sides. The headmaster noticed this action, and shifted in his seat. The teen wondered if it was worry he saw flash across the old man's face, or something else. Fawkes gave a small, crooning sound that eased Harry's nerves, and when he looked at the phoenix, the bird's eyes seemed kinder than they had been during his last visit. It felt to him almost as though the fiery creature had come to terms with what he was, and accepted him. It wasn't all that different in nature to two people who used to be friends, had a falling out, and then became kind and civil to one another regardless of the fact that they would never be friends again.
"How are you feeling, my boy?" Harry's eyes strayed back to the headmaster, and he knew that he should have expected the man to drag this out a bit, as it was not in his nature to get to the point. He made a resigned sort of sigh and decided he would play along, though whether that decision was influenced by the mild calming potion in his system and Frode's calming words, or not, remained to be seen.
"Fine. A bit sore." The headmaster nodded, carefully eyeing the scar on the teen's face.
"I'm glad you are well. You had us all quite worried, having lost as much blood as you did; even more so when you did not awaken the next day." That caught Harry's attention.
"How long was I out?"
"Two days. It's Friday now, and it's rather lucky you woke up when you did. The train will be leaving tonight, a bit later than usual, and you should be able to ride with your friends. Had you not awoken until tomorrow, we would have been forced to find another way to get you home." The man smiled brightly, but Harry only scowled.
"What about Sirius' funeral?" At this, the headmaster's expression grew old again.
"I'm afraid we were unable to retrieve his body before the minister arrived. Since he is still legally considered a criminal, the ministry took his body to dispose of. He will not receive a funeral." Anger, an emotion that was quickly becoming all too familiar to Harry, churned in his gut. He thought to speak out, but instead held his tongue. Nothing he said would matter, even less so since this was Dumbledore and not the minister. Grief mixed itself with his anger, the two churning around each other and pulling evenly with rusty knives like a twisted form of yin and yang. "Some good has come out of this all, at least. Cornelius witnessed the sight of Voldemort with his own eyes before he was able to escape, so he is no longer denying his return. I expect that we might receive proper help and support from the ministry in the future." Harry found that he hardly cared for this news. It would help, yes, but he was too upset to truly give a damn.
"I see." Questions churned in his mind, and he decided to ask one, even knowing that it was unlikely that the headmaster would answer him. "What was that orb that Voldemort wanted so badly?" The headmaster's face grew a bit grim at this.
"It was a prophecy, of sorts. I imagine he wished to know what it said. Were you able to hear it, before it was broken?" He stared silently at the headmaster for a moment, thoughts churning through his head, and made his choice.
"No. No I didn't. Do you know what it said, headmaster?" The man nodded.
"It is not yet time to share that knowledge, however, though I shall endeavor to do so when you are ready." The smallest beginnings of dark hatred, not unlike what he felt for the Dark Lord, though not nearly so intense, began forming in his heart.
"Alright. Is that all, headmaster? I'd like to go pack my things and get ready for the train if it's alright. I need to go talk to Madame Pomfrey before I go, as well."
"Yes. Yes of course, my boy. Go ahead." Harry nodded and turned towards the door. His hand had just brushed the handle when the headmaster spoke once more. "One more thing, Harry. I know that Sirius' death likely weighs heavily upon you, and I would like to ask you not to do anything foolish. Emotions such as grief are what make us human, but they are not to be acted rashly upon."
"Yes, sir." He didn't bother to turn around as he gritted out the words, and opened the door to leave. When he slammed it behind him, everything made of glass within Dumbledore's office shattered brilliantly.
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Harry found himself in a compartment with Blaise and Luna once again. He had hugged each of them, making sure they were alright, and Luna had apologized for him having been struck by one of those few curses her armor couldn't defend against properly. Amazingly, the curse which had cut his face and chest had not touched the armor at all, simply gone through it as though it were intangible. It was not lost on him, however, that the wound on his chest, beneath the armor had been much less deep than the one on his face, and the scar less prominent, despite the fact that his chest had been the target.
He waved off her apologies, keenly aware that, if not for the armor, he might likely be dead, and after ensuring the two of them were well, and healing properly, and gaining from them the events of the past couple of days, they all slipped into a comfortable silence. Blaise was stuck in another book, Luna the Quibbler, and he himself stared out the window, watching the countryside go by, and tried carefully not to think of the events of the Department of Mysteries. Occasionally people came by to say hello, and goodbye, and to make sure he was alright, and Harry was glad to see that everyone was well, and didn't seem to blame him at all. Neither Ron, nor Hermione showed themselves, for which he was thankful, and the trip passed without any undue fuss.
He gathered his things as the train began to slow, and slipped into the platform after one last round of hugs and farewells from Blaise and Luna. He found Dudley waiting next to Uncle Vernon, each with pleasant, if awkward, smiles. Their smiles dropped at the sight of the scar on his face, and with a promise to explain later they were soon gathered into the car. He pretended not to notice them looking back at him frequently as they drove, and instead watched the world go by through the window.
There was a plan brewing in his mind, and he looked forward to putting it into action.
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Bombarda- to bomb (a spell which causes a bomb-like effect upon the targeted area, object, or person)
Confringo- destroy (a spell which causes an explosion to take place on targeted area, object, or person, that is followed by flames)
Ventus- wind (a spell which creates fast-paced wind from the wand tip which can be directed by the wand like a conductor's baton)
Defodio- dig (a spell which creates gouges in the the targeted area, object, or person)
Crucio- torture (a spell which causes great pain upon the subject, presumably though the nerves, or through mental means)
Reducto- reduce (a spell which breaks objects)
Depulso- expel (a spell which pushes the targeted object or person away from the caster with great force)
Incendio- fire (a spell which creates flames that can be directed by the wand like a conductor's baton)
Avada Kedavra- to kill (a spell which instantly kills the target, presumably by stopping the heart and brain activity simultaneously)
Stupefy- startle (a spell which stuns the affected person, and which can cause unconsciousness when used with great force)
Salvum Mutat- safe changes (a potion which allows a person to become an animagus safely and without their beastly form physically affecting their human form)
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And here we are. I wonder how many of you guessed correctly at what would happen during the bit at the ministry. I had quite a few people beg me not to kill him off, and a couple that said they would stop reading if I did, but hopefully not too many of you are cross with me for it.
I would like it said that he has always been one of my favorite characters, and I debated my plans for him fiercely with myself. I would have loved to have kept him alive, but this road leads to a more developed, mature, and independent Harry. It works as a catalyst to give him a proper reason to fight, just like it did when Rowling did it in canon. Before now, Harry only had the deaths of his parents (who he doesn't remember) and one student (who he was never close to) to fuel his willingness to face Voldemort. Rowling killed off Sirius because he was an important character that Harry genuinely cared for, so that it would give him a good reason to want Voldemort dead, and I've done the same thing here.
Hated myself a tiny bit for doing it, and I'm sure most of you Sirius-fans will feel the same, but there you go.
As for Harry going a little crazy while he was fighting, and what he did to Bellatrix, I'll let you guys make of it what you will. Not ready to explain that yet.
I'll see you guys in a bit, at the beginning of Part Two. The update should be anywhere from ten to twelve days from now because it's an intermission. I look forward to the reviews, and I hope you all come back for more.
Sincerely,
Mr. Hate