CH28: Muad'dib

November 13th

11:21am

Forbidden Forest, Scotland

Harry

The forbidden forest, a place of particular terror and torment for lost souls who had wandered under the shade of its trees. On the road to Hogsmeade, the loyalists had set up a temporary aid station for the coming operation. The day was clear, the first in weeks and yet the air was still chilly which only added to the discomfort for what was to come next.

Harry breathed into his hands and rubbed them together, frowning at their continued coldness. 'Adrenaline will do the trick and there will be a lot of that going around today.' Harry looked down the treeline to the east, and then to the west, where his fighters were awaiting the order to advance. Half of them were trainees, they'd never seen what magic could do to someone, never experienced the paralysing realisation of where they were on the food chain. 'They will today.'

Harry had picked November twelfth for one reason alone, Daphne would be otherwise occupied with the funeral of her parents. She had refused his company, whether to hide her vulnerability or grieve with Astoria alone, Harry did not know. However it had hurt him.

'If there was anyone she could trust to break down with, surely it would be me?' Harry shook his head to rid himself of those insecurities. 'She's grieving, I'm the last person who should judge anyone about that, least of all Daphne.'

"Alright, Harry?"

Harry regained his focus and found that Sirius had joined him at the treeline. The man looked good, finally the image of someone in their thirties rather than their fifties. There was a life in the old dog that Harry hadn't seen in Sirius before, not even when his exoneration was announced.

"Alright?" Harry mimicked as if testing the word on his tongue for any harmful connotations. "It's as good a word as any."

"I'd say being alright is better than most," Sirius optimistically stated. He slapped his godson on the back as he continued, "especially anyone with arachnophobia."

A flash of Weasley red entered his mind but he squashed the thought before it could gain any traction. 'No distractions.' His wand fell into his hand and rose it to his neck. A silently cast sonorus amplified his voice.

"Prepare to advance. Maintain distance and be vigilant. Remember, no fire."

"Why no fire?" Sirius asked as Harry checked his equipment.

"Have you ever seen a full grown acromantula?" His hand went to his belt where he found his blade. Further along, three vials were linked onto his belt loops. 'Pepper up, wiggenweld and blood replenisher. Check.'

"Once, on a full moon escapade in sixth year."

"Imagine that, sprinting at you," Harry bade him, not seeing the frown develop on the last marauder's face, "now imagine it on fire, not dead, just pissed off."

"Good point," Sirius relented, his expression contorted into a mesh of disgust and horror.

Harry raised the wand to his neck again and spoke one simple command; "ADVANCE."

As one, sixty witches and wizards began their slow stride into the dark forest. Kingsley had convinced Harry to leave a quarter of their forces on the grounds in case of attack and the imposing man had stayed behind to coordinate the defence. Kingsley had also helped in making their extermination squad more cohesive by placing key members along the line. Halim to the east, Harry in the centre and Moody to the west. Harry had a vague idea of where the nest was and would lead the group there but if things went awry there would be someone of authority to keep things alive along the line.

'Here we go.'

Harry took the first step into the forest and immediately felt the difference. The air thickened and felt unclean to breathe which caused him to grimace. Further still, the forest lived up to one of its names; the canopies formed an overlapping umbrella over the loyalists, blocking the sun entirely.

"Lumos," Sirius cast beside him. The ball of white-blue light ascended into the branches, followed by several others by the aurors and trainees along the line. The path was lit and Harry's confidence was secured.

The forest, Harry was sure, was just as alive as Hogwarts. The leaves, the trees, the dirt and the rivers all sung with the song of magic. He was calm, and with that came a sensitivity to all that around him. Harry retreated into his very being then reached out into his surroundings. 'What is that?' The forest wasn't as chaotic as he thought it would be, it sang with one voice, rapid and unsteady. 'Anticipation? No… fear.'

"Hold," he said, his eyes scanning the trees for threats. The command was echoed down the line both ways and the assault came to a halt. Silence, unnatural and eerie. The forest wasn't even singing anymore, it contributed to the quiet. Harry squinted his eyes as he caught movement far into the woods. Whatever it was, it was fast.

'Sedisebris.' His vision blurred and became blue, specks of yellow loitered in the air as fireflies showed themselves as the only signs of life. He could barely distinguish the visage of tree trunks from rocks. 'Where are–' Harry's internal monologue was cut short by the arrival of a large yellow blob dropping just five metres from his face.

"Percutio."

Harry's piercing hex punctured an acromantula's face and its suspended body collapsed to the forest floor. Harry ended the night vision and watched the giant spider convulse violently, its eight legs kicking in the air. The spider's death throws were accompanied by its high pitched screeches which died off in tune with the flailing.

"Prepare yourselves!" Harry shouted. 'Damned spiders in the damned trees. This forest shouldn't bloody exist.'

Blood pumped in his ears as the aurors closest to him began erecting makeshift wooden defences. Spikes, walls and readied projectiles began to fill the forest in a long line spanning sixty magical men and women. Shadows coalesced into beings and Harry realised he was wrong.

'Not blood,' Harry thought in trepidation, 'legs.'

Harry's first kill was just the beginning. A wave of hairy, humongous and angry spiders were barrelling towards the loyalist line. No fear, no reluctance, just pure intent to kill. A quick glance to his left told him that he couldn't count on the same with his comrades. A young man, Jeffries, was shaking so much that his wand was barely still in his fingers.

"Do not hesitate! They will not grant you the luxury of surrender!" Harry's words did little to dissuade anyone's fear, especially the young man to his left. 'Trial by fire, that's the only way to learn.' The spiders closed the distance fast and the low rhythmic thumping of a thousand legs had quickly become a thunderous roar. 'There's no benefit in waiting now.' Harry brought the elder wand level to his shoulder, he was side-on by habit and knew that a strong offence from the start was a good way to control the fight.

"Orgtoudia," he spoke clearly. It was a spell they'd picked up from Herpo's notes. Dark in nature, of course, designed to kill as most things Herpo-related were. 'Zeus' wrath' he'd called it and, after having seen its effect, Harry was in no position to disagree. A streak of unstable yellow lightning burst from his wand so aggressively that he had to brace himself from the recoil. The bolt arced abnormally, bending without outside interference but returned to its original trajectory to hit its target. The acromantula that suffered the first blow died in an instant with every hair and nerve ending getting fried faster than one could blink. The spell wasn't finished though, once it had connected with the first, it sought another, then another until a dozen spiders laid dead on the ground, fizzling with sparks and smoke wisps.

Harry's attack sparked a movement of confidence in the loyalist ranks and was trailed by half a hundred spells that illuminated the forest in a cacophony of colours. A hundred metres away, spiders tumbled to the ground, their individual charges coming to an unceremonious halt. The horde paid them no mind. Volley after volley, the loyalists pelted the impenetrable wall of arachnids that descended upon them. Yet the wall grew closer, with each strike against it, the distance between the line and the spiders became seventy metres, sixty, fifty.

"My God, they're not stopping." The trainee's voice trembled as he spoke. "We can't hold them."

"Yes we can," Harry barked back, the man's lack of spine was starting to get on his nerves.

"Blasting curse then piercing," the auror standing next to the trembling trainee encouraged. "Come on man, I don't want to end up as spider food."

That was, decidedly not, the best thing to say at that time. With his eyes fixed forward, he heard, more than saw, the young man began to hyperventilate. The very next thing Harry saw was a column of fire speeding past his head, towards the spider horde.

'Idiot.'

For such a weak willed man, his flames were unexpectedly potent, enhanced by his fear and desperation. The spell crashed against the spider vanguard then spewed off to the side, and as the fiendish horrors climbed atop one another to reach their feast first, the fire spread. The air was flooded with the enraged and aflame screams from dozens of acromantula. It did nothing to stop their assault, the spiders seemed to be even more determined to reach the loyalist line now having lost any chance of coherent thought.

The first flaming spider reached them in under a minute.

The loyalist fortifications were hit first. The wooden stakes they'd magically fashioned from the woodland surroundings skewered a dozen spiders in front of Harry. Flaming spiders on very flammable fortifications… the outcome was obvious. Several loyalists realised what was about to happen the same time as Harry did.

"Repel them! Repel then strike!" Harry's command was followed as an array of arania exumai slammed into the oncoming force. The front line of the flaming arachnids was propelled backwards into their ranks. A second volley came directly after, a range of destructive and lethal magic obliterated the stunned spiders, and then some. Even as they repelled another four waves, they kept coming.

'Just bloody die,' he thought as he dodged a flying severed leg.

"Agh! Help!"

Harry instinctively turned the pleading cries of an auror trainee to his right. The young man was belly down on the forest floor, his finger's clawed at the dirt as he tried to pull himself from the vice of giant pincers. The spider that had him was half dead, its body charred and lacerated, yet that did nothing to sate its bloodthirsty nature.

Harry stomped towards the offending beast and drew his blade. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't hit the desperate wizard if Harry cast a spell and so when he was close enough, Harry drove his dagger into the arachnid's skull. Black blood splattered on his face as he wrenched the blade free. The Chosen One didn't give the injured man a second more of his time, he turned, took aim and came to the painful realisation that maybe they couldn't hold them.

The horde was so close now that he could see the murderous intent in their beady eyes. He watched as they flung themselves into spikes, tore each other's limbs off just to get that little bit closer. Against such reckless abandon, Harry saw himself.

'This is what it's come to.' Harry's eyes narrowed and his pulse quickened. There was a simplicity in knowing that your enemy merely wanted to kill you, no grand schemes, no betrayal, just death. 'Tenebr–'

The thoughts of black flames receded as a deep horn cut through the chaos. For a moment, the battle came to a standstill, barring the acromantula who thrashed and rolled to rid themselves of the flame. There was a hesitancy to the beasts, one that Harry thought was impossible. Then they struck.

From the dark, steel tipped missiles sliced through the air and rent the flesh of the spider scourge. Then, as one, half a hundred centaurs emerged from the shadows. The centaurs harassed the beasts with shouts and arrows, herding them into the loyalists' spells. Soon enough a hundred spiders became dozens and the ones that remained seemed to understand their fate, they scurried towards the centaurs hoping to break through their trap and escape.

It was no use. The centaurs had lived in the forest much longer than the acromantula, they knew how to hunt, and their skills were as sharp as their arrowheads. If a spider got close, it was greeted with centaur steel, axes would chop away legs and spears would puncture their eyes and skulls. Watching them work so efficiently was marvellous to behold and as they dispatched the last spider, Harry was mildly disappointed that it was over.

"Wait! What are you– ooft."

Harry spun to his right and saw that a centaur had flanked them and was trampling Sirius as he laid on the forest floor shielding himself with his arms. The elder wand nearly acted of its accord, inferring Harry's intentions and banishing the centaur into a tree nearby. Harry was on it before it could regain its bearings, his wand arm outstretched and his eyes tracking the beast like a predator would its prey. The centaur huffed and paced but didn't try to run.

'Not that it would do him any good,' Harry thought with his wand still pointed at its face. The centaur was truly brave, meeting Harry's unblinking gaze with one of equal strength. It wasn't afraid to die just as much as Harry wasn't afraid to kill.

"Harry?" Sirius haltingly stepped into Harry's peripheral vision; a hand raised in an attempt to stop Harry from releasing a spell. "Harry," he repeated softly, "I'm fine, it's over."

Harry flicked his eyes to Sirius. His vigilant vest had a distinct hoof-print in the centre of his chest but other than that he was perfectly fine. In fact, he seemed more concerned for the half man-half horse at the end of Harry's wand.

"Bane," a deep voice spoke. The unfamiliar sound managed to break Harry's tunnel vision and take in the scene he'd found himself in. Twenty centaurs were gathered, armed with bows and spears, none of them were happy to see one of their own under the threat of a wizard. The loyalists had gathered into a larger group as well and many wore the same looks of mistrust that the centaurs did. The air between them was taught with tension and Harry's opposition wasn't making it any looser. "I believe I gave orders for the wizards to go unharmed?"

The centaur, Bane, spoke for the first time since attacking them. His wild look turned feral as he pointed at Harry but spoke to the leader. "You saw what I saw, he is a danger to us all."

"It was not your place, Bane." The leader's proud, high cheek-boned face turned its attention to Harry. "Potter, I am Magorian, I speak for we who walk under the light of the stars. What business do you have in our land?"

Harry gave Bane one last look then dropped his wand arm to his side. Bane sniffed and returned to his people with his head held high but Harry caught the glance of warning the leader gave to his subordinate. "The spiders were attacking our people, we aimed to put a stop to them."

"I thought as much," Magorian said wryly. The centaur flicked his head backwards and clicked with his tongue and the congregation of centaurs turned around and galloped away. "I do not like humans, least of all wizards," Magorian continued once his people had disappeared into the forest, "I aided your expedition nonetheless."

"Thanks," Harry replied with a small measure of impertinence.

Magorian scoffed, his long, dark hair bounced side to side as he shook his head. "Despite your disrespect," Magorian challenged, "I would aid you still."

"Aid me?" Harry asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity. He'd brought a small army into their forest, wizards had been killed for much less and yet he only saw sincerity in the eyes of Magorian.

"Yes," Magorian cast an uneasy eye across the gathered loyalists and "if you would follow me back to our –"

"No chance sport," Moody refuted, thumping his way into the conversation.

Harry gave him a look to be quiet and then returned to the matter at hand. "What kind of aid?"

"The spiritual kind." Magorian's troubled expression didn't help his case with Moody but it did serve to intrigue Harry even more. The centaurs were experienced diviners and natural born seers. They had spent thousands of years reading and interpreting the starry sky and almost never shared their findings with humans. 'The last person who showed an aptitude for ambient magic went ignored by most, including myself. I won't make that mistake again.'

"Leave–"

"I'll go," Harry interjected, cutting Alastor off. "Mad Eye I want any wounded moved back behind the castle's wards. Sirius, confiscate Jeffries' vest and remove him from the trainee program."

"Harry this is a bad–" Sirius tried to say but again, Harry stopped anyone from interfering.

"Lead on." Harry filled Magorian as he turned and began walking deeper into the forest. 'The possibility of the centaurs joining Voldemort is low,' Harry thought, as Magorian cut away vines in their path. 'Yet that doesn't necessarily make them an ally.'

"My herd has wished for the extermination of the acromantula for some time, we lacked the strength to do so alone." Magorian's attempt at small talk amused Harry, mostly because the centaur's chiselled face was contorted in one of discomfort. "They had been growing bolder by the day."

"Voldemort," Harry supplied for his own benefit, "he likely approached them to watch the school and with that promised them the forest."

"Perhaps." Magorian's lack of conviction irked Harry however he didn't get to question him on it. Magorian had stopped at a thick wooded area. So thick, that the trees had warped and fused together as they grew. The ancient trees were taller than Harry could see, disappearing into overlapping branches and crown above. "We are here."

The trees in front of Harry twisted and groaned as they parted and transformed into an entrance. Harry followed Magorian through the trunk archway and barely noticed it close behind him. In a large clearing where the sun breached the treetop canopies, Harry got his first look at the centaur colony. Huts of mud brick and moss surrounded the camp in a small circle. There can't have been more than fifteen individual buildings. Centaurs of all different shapes and colours roamed the clearing, chatting and going about their day as if there wasn't a hunt mere minutes ago. In the centre of the clearing was a crescent moon effigy made of twigs and tied together by vines and magic.

'Forty- no, fifty. We could take them if it came to that.' He felt an almost imperceptible amount of guilt for thinking so negatively… almost.

"Chief Magorian, you succeeded." The centaur that approached them, Harry recognised, his white blonde hair set him apart from his peers. That, and he was the only one that didn't blatantly glare at Harry. "Harry Potter, it has been some time since we last shared words."

"Firenze," Harry greeted with respect and a hint of surprise, "I thought you had been exiled?"

"He was invited to rejoin his brothers and sisters when the heavens cried out to us." Magorian gave Firenze an apologetic glance before setting an investigative one firmly on Harry. "Tell us, Potter, what did you do five months ago that changed your destiny?"

'Do they mean…' Harry cooled his features and cast all thoughts of the separation from his mind. "Why? What difference could my actions make against your beloved stars?"

"BLASPHEME!" Bane's hand went straight to an axe at the intersection of where man became horse, raising it high above his head threateningly and taking a step forward.

"Bane! Stay your hand!" Magorian physically stepped in between Harry and Bane and caught Bane's arms in his own. Bane wrestled with Magorian but the leader held him in place, much to the angry centaur's humiliation. After bucking and kicking up dirt got Bane nowhere, he gave up and dropped the axe to forest the floor. Magorian huffed and flicked his head the same way he had in front of the loyalist expedition and Bane trotted off into the forest but not before sending Harry a murderous glare. Magorian reached down and scooped up the axe that Bane had dropped.

"The heavens protect you from our wrath, prophecy child. Any other human and I would've allowed Bane to split you in two." Magorian's nostrils flared as he slammed the axe down into a nearby stump. "I say these things because you were destined to die, Harry Potter, and then, five months ago… you were not."

"How can a person's destiny change?" Harry replied, equal parts challenging and evasive. 'So… nothing is written that can not be unwritten. Daphne would eat this up.'

"Words hardly suffice in the way of prophecy, you must see a thing to believe it." Firenze stepped closer and offered him a wooden bowl. Harry could see some kind of plant had been mashed into a paste and combined with a liquid, there were chunks of gunk floating in the mixture still. Harry did nothing to hide his aversion to the concoction but Firenze ignored his apparent disgust. "Drink," the centaur commanded simply.

'It can't be worse than Snape's potions,' he reassured himself. Harry took the bowl in his hands but didn't drink right away. All around them, centaurs had gathered and watched with interest. Their expectant gazes generated a sharp burst of worry inside his chest. "What will I see?"

"Your future."

With an answer like that, Harry brought the bowl to his lips without hesitation. The smell hit him first, the closest thing he could link it to was four days old chicken that he'd left out on the counter one time at the Dursleys. He pushed through though, eager to see what was in store for himself and his loved ones. He tilted his head back and swallowed all of the goop and liquid in one go and wiped his mouth on his sleeve when he'd finished.

He didn't feel anything at first and as he looked at the unfamiliar faces he half expected them to start laughing at him.

'Is this some kind of jo–'

His mind screamed as his body collapsed to the floor on all fours. Harry was thrust into a not so distant future. Hogwarts was a ruin but he stood tall and proud with Daphne by his side, neither sported an injury and Daphne wore an elegant crown atop her head. The great hall courtyard was a sea of death eater corpses and the pair of them were covered in an unhealthy amount of blood. At his feet was the Dark Lord's head, his body several metres away from it.

'We win… we actually win.'

Harry blinked and was thrown into another scene. He was in the atrium of the ministry, piles of bodies lined the floo hall and at the centre of it all was Daphne. She was on her back with Future Harry standing over her. He looked shocked and heartbroken, but his wand was raised nonetheless. Daphne smiled a sinister smile as Harry cast the killing curse point blank at her face.

'No!' his mind cried but the ride wasn't over. He was in the headmaster's office of Hogwarts with Daphne but she looked… wrong. Present Harry spotted a small stone in Future Harry's palm and realised what he was doing. 'Release her!' he commanded but his future self just watched impassively as Daphne wandered the room aimlessly. Future Harry squeezed his hand and a small explosion of magic detonated in his palm. The stone was now ash and dust and Daphne's incorporeal form had disappeared.

'I wouldn't! This is a lie!'

The scene shifted again. This time Harry didn't recognise where he was, it was a large hall of pale greens and blues, he stood in front of what looked like a reception desk. A blast blew up the wall to his right and a woman flew through the debris, landing hard on the tiled floor. A small pin of the French flag adorned her breast pocket which fell to the floor as she kicked and whimpered. A cloaked figure appeared from the debris and raised his wand, ignoring the pleas of the woman, he struck her down and moved further into the building.

The next scene physically threw him into a seat. Harry looked at his surroundings and saw that he was in some kind of senate building. He was seated in a high roofed auditorium with cascading rows of seats. In front of the seats were tables, with name tags and country's flags on them. Nearly every seat was filled and there seemed to be an intense argument happening, not that Harry could hear anything. Suddenly, the ceiling exploded, showering the assembly in debris and dust.

When the dust had settled, a lone figure of the same stature and style from the previous vision stood in the centre of the chamber. The mystery intruder slowly removed their hood and revealed themselves to be… Harry Potter.

People scrambled from their chairs in an effort to escape but future Harry ignited the chamber with fiendfyre in the form of foxes.

'Daphne…'

They playfully jumped around the chamber, incinerating all that they touched. Dozens died to the flames, all the while future Harry just watched under the protection of a bubble shield. Future Harry tilted his head to the side as if he was confused. He turned deliberately and sought present Harry out in the chairs above. Present Harry froze, he'd been in magical nightmares before, he knew the horrors one could experience only in the mind. But future Harry made no move against him, just stared angrily.

Harry looked to his left and saw one of the foxes was heading towards him. Frantically, he tried to get away, unsure what was real and what was fake anymore, but found that he couldn't move. He looked down and saw his legs had been tied to the chair he was sitting in and initial attempts to find his wand proved fruitless. Harry looked to his left again and his rising panic turned to downright fright as the fox had disappeared; however, in its place, future Harry was sitting right beside him.

Future Harry's mouth was moving but Harry couldn't hear him then a loud ringing noise penetrated his before– silence.

"Beware the snake in stone," a voice echoed in his mind. It wasn't just any voice though, it was his own. Harry watched his future self move his lips again and realised that his future was speaking to him in some distorted fashion. "Beware the snake ensnared by stones." Future Harry looked down at his hand where a large green ring, Daphne's ring, decorated his finger. When his gaze returned to present Harry's, he stepped in front of him and gripped his shoulders tight. He spoke only two words, manic and desperate as they were.

"Save her."

Harry's mind was thrust back to the world and the first thing he did was begin a long drawn out coughing fit from his prone position in the dirt.

"Now you see," Magorian intoned in a way Harry would describe as barely concealed smugness, "you understand why we could not stand aside."

"Why?" he demanded after he'd finished coughing. "Why would you help me? All that I have done, all that I will do–"

"The heavens do not often deal in absolutes, what you saw is only one path of many." Harry remembered how Firenze had told him in second year that the stars could be misread. It was his only comfort at that moment, seeing as he'd just seen himself murder Daphne and incinerate the ICW. "You ask why we chose to aid you? Yours is the path of potential, the dark one… he only knows ruination."

Magorian clopped closer to Harry who was still kneeling on the ground, straining his neck to meet the centaurs' gaze. Magorian reached down by bending his front legs and offered an arm to Harry. Harry could see that Magorian believed every word he said and a quick glance at the rest of his colony showed that most of them did too. Harry took the offer of help and allowed himself to be pulled up by the centaur. But Magorian did not let go, instead he held Harry's arm firmly in place and expressed loudly, "we would fight with you, Harry Potter, if you would only welcome us."

Images of the possible reality were still fresh in his mind, he didn't know what the future held. 'It won't be that,' he vowed, 'I will not strike her down.' Harry gave his last bit of strength to offer Magorian a strong squeeze in their warrior's embrace.

"I would."

Author's Note

Evening all, I'd like to apologise for not sticking to my schedule… work has been a bit hectic at the moment and uni has just started up again. The format I'm working under right now is to complete a chapter 90% and leave editing and final touches for when I write my note and publish. I couldn't make time for that this week and that's why I'm late.

Let's get started…

I off screened the funeral for two main reasons. I'm sick of writing funerals (not to be confused with killing characters) and all the necessary internal monologue happens elsewhere.

The forest fight is a pretty standard action scene until I throw in the comparison between Harry and the spiders. Their pure aggression mimics the defence of the Burrow and serves as the final reminder that Harry hasn't been Harry for a long time.

Harry's massive kick up the ass is a catalyst for change, whether that be good or bad is still for you to find out, but I feel like I've done a good enough job that it could go either way. Both of our main characters are capable of serious evil, especially necessary evil…

Bringing in a new culture isn't something I'm taking lightly. I really want to set apart the centaurs from their wizard counterparts. More on that in the next chapter.

The visions are basically a short form sequel for those that have been asking for it lol, but don't worry, I'll still be writing another book.

This chapter is dubbed Muad'dib in honour of one of my favourite books of all time; Dune. Frank Herbert explores a lot of themes around power, prescience and the danger of idealising hero-leaders which I think is very relevant for this chapter. Seriously- go read the book. The sequels are a bit bizarre though so read at your own risk haha

Or watch the movies, part two comes out in a few days and the first one is an amazing adaptation!

Thanks for the read : )

RevanchistVII