Well that certainly was an eventful few days! I can't believe this website was out for so long! Since I didn't get to post on Friday, I figured I would today. I hope you guys enjoy it, and please review!
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Harry sat on the floor of the empty room, barely conscious. His head was pounding, his stomach churning, and his fist was still firmly in his mouth. And there he stayed, unable to fight through the immense pain emulating from his scar.
There he waited, waited for Voldemort to infiltrate into his head once more. He had been hoping to go a whole day without his scar hurting; however, he knew it was a foolish wish.
He could have never been so fortunate.
Harry closed his eyes as the world around him started to fade and then go black. He seemed to blink, and he was now outside, in the middle of a wide field. Surrounding him on all sides were strange figures; however, a thick fog hung in the air, making it impossible for him to determine what they were.
Somehow, though, he knew they were Dementors.
Harry spoke to them in a high, cold voice. "The days of your imprisonment are over. Now, you do our bidding, and in return, you may have all of the souls you want. We are your new leaders. You will listen to us."
An odd noise arose from the midst of the fog. It sounded almost like a low, rattling cheer.
"Your orders are simple: go out into the world and feed. Breed and multiply and spread your despair." Again, the strange noise arose from the fog. There was a flurry of movement as all of the Dementors disbanded to start their task at once.
Harry looked around, satisfied. His eyes glanced around and fell on his reflection in a pool of water. He took a second look. What was in his eyes? It almost looked like— He let out a scream of outrage as Harry was thrown unceremoniously from Voldemort's mind.
Harry's eyes popped open again suddenly, and he found himself back in the room, flat on his back. He sat up, his scar still burning, and his stomach gave a heave.
He pulled his fist out of his mouth and examined it. There was a multitude of bite marks on it, and it was bleeding profusely.
Harry reached for his holster, intending to pull out his wand, but he found it empty. He must have left it downstairs. Harry groaned and looked around the room for a solution to his new issue.
This room, unlike the others in the house, was very neat and uncluttered. It had one bed, which was made to look extremely crisp. There was a small dresser with toiletries lined up in order from smallest to largest. There was a small bookshelf which was piled high with books, all very tidy looking. However, there seemed to be a thick layer of dust blanketing everything.
He thought it was odd that the Weasleys were not using this room because, from what he could tell, the whole house was full, with barely any room to spare.
Harry sat on the ground, waiting for the burning in his head to go away. Then he heard something. It sounded like someone was quietly calling his name.
He was not sure of who it was, but he was sure of one thing; he would not be coming out of this room, not yet. He was not interested in explaining what he had been doing in a strange room which was never used. He heard the voice fade away, and he decided to try and stand up. As soon as he did, he felt very dizzy, and his stomach heaved once again.
He caught a glimpse of his reflection out of the corner of his eye. From what he could see of his face, he was extremely pale.
He tried to take a step, but he fell onto his knees. Why was this time so much worse than the others? He pondered this as he got to his feet again. Then it hit him.
Last night, he had pushed Voldemort out. Now, he must be paying double for resisting. He tried taking a step again, and this time, he did not fall, though he was very unsteady. He kept taking it step by step until, finally, he felt as though he could walk normally again.
After a few more minutes, Harry unlocked the door and exited the room. He closed it carefully behind him and then retreated all the way upstairs and into the bathroom.
He was not sure for how long he had been in the room, but he knew he could not go back downstairs with his fist still bleeding.
He opened a cabinet and found a bottle of Pepper Up potion. He gulped it down and could feel the color returning to his face. His stomach seemed to unknot also, though the potion did nothing for his head, which was still prickling rather unpleasantly.
Now, he just had to take care of his bloody hand. He carefully rinsed it and then, not seeing anything useful in the cabinet, decided to go and look in his trunk. He needed to heal it before he went back downstairs.
He opened the bedroom door and was surprised to see Lupin sitting on his bed. Unusually, Sirius was nowhere to be seen.
"There you are," Lupin said, rising. "Where were you? You missed dinner."
"Oh, I wasn't hungry," Harry said coolly, trying to hastily hide his hand in his pocket. Lupin, however, had already noticed it.
"What's wrong with your hand?" He asked, walking to where Harry was.
"Nothing," Harry said, presenting his other fist for inspection. Lupin grabbed his other forearm and pulled his fist out of his pocket. Harry did not try to fight it.
Lupin looked at it for a moment and then said, "What did you do?"
"Let's just say I spared everyone a lot of worry," Harry sighed.
"Harry, what happened?"
"My scar hurt again."
"Oh," Lupin said, letting go of his hand. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Harry said, "I'm fine, but I need to get rid of this before anyone else sees it. Can I have your wand?"
Lupin didn't do anything, though. Instead, he continued to examine Harry's face.
"Look, I have to go soon. Can you just give me your wand so that I can fix my hand?" Harry asked, getting frustrated.
"Harry,"
"What?"
"I think you should sit down for a moment."
"No, I'm fine."
But Lupin gave him a look which was an odd mix of severity and worry, so Harry, deciding not to fight, sighed and sat down on his bed.
"I really am fine. This is not necessary." Harry insisted.
However, Lupin merely continued to look at him oddly. It was almost like he was afraid of him.
"What?" Harry asked.
"It's just," Lupin started, "Are you absolutely sure that Voldemort is gone? I mean, completely. Your scar doesn't hurt anymore?"
"What do you mean? Of course I am. I mean, my scar still hurts, but it always does for a while after. Why?"
"No reason." But Harry could tell that there was a definite reason.
Why was Lupin still looking at him like that? Why would he have asked such a ridiculous question? Surely Harry could know if he was still in Voldemort's head, wouldn't he?
True, his scar was still burning, and his stomach, though better, still was upset, but that was normal. It took a while for the symptoms to go away.
Harry's thoughts turned to his vision, or whatever that was. It had been different from the ones he had been having. This time, it was like Harry was forced out of Voldemort's mind instead of coming back of his own accord. But how could that have happened?
He remembered the last part of his vision. Voldemort had seen his reflection in the water. Voldemort must have realized he was there, but how? What part of his reflection could have given it away?
Harry subconsciously started to touch his face, his hands brushing over his lips then his cheek and rested for a moment at his temples before falling back to his lap. Everything seemed completely normal. But why was Lupin still looking at him like that?
Then it hit him. Voldemort must have seen him in his head by looking into his eyes. It was the only thing that made sense.
Harry had always been taught that the quickest way into someone's mind was through their eyes. Even when he was not trying to read their thoughts, true emotions are often expressed through the eyes.
And, if that was the case, if Voldemort had really seen Harry in his eyes, was it possible there were still remains of Voldemort in Harry's own eyes? He had to check.
However, as he glanced around the room, he realized there were no mirrors anywhere. He would have to ask Lupin, force him to talk.
"What's wrong, Lupin?" Harry asked, thinking he already knew the answer.
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you still looking at me like that?" Lupin quickly averted his eyes, looking anywhere but at Harry.
"I'm not looking at you in a particular way. I just want to make sure you are fine. Do you want me to fix your hand for you?" Lupin said it quickly, as though wanting to change the subject.
"Sure," Harry said, offering his still bleeding hand to Lupin. "If something were wrong, you would tell me, right?"
"Yes," Lupin said, pretending to be immersed in healing Harry's fist.
"So if, say, my eyes were a different color than normal, you would say something?" Lupin froze and looked at Harry.
"What do you mean a different color?"
Harry smirked. "So you are telling me, if I look into the mirror right now, my eyes won't be scarlet instead of green?"
"Not anymore."
"So they were?"
"Yes, but they are back to normal."
Harry frowned. "Why do you think that happened?"
"Most likely," Lupin said, "it was just the aftermath from your scar hurting. I wouldn't dwell on it if I were you." Harry nodded but didn't say anything.
"I'm serious, Harry. I am sure it was just a fluke or something."
"It's back to normal now?" Harry asked.
"Completely green," Lupin assured him.
"Great," Harry said, "Thanks for fixing my hand."
"Of course," Lupin said.
"I should get going. I'm sure Dumbledore will be expecting me."
"Okay," Lupin said as he stood. "Be careful, and make sure you tell Dumbledore what's going on. Tell him everything."
"I will." Harry agreed.
He walked back to the door and exited the room, leaving Lupin behind. He made his way down the steps and back into the kitchen. Everyone had left, with the acceptation of Draco.
"Are you okay?" He asked, standing.
"Yes, I am fine." Harry said quickly. "I am going to meet with Dumbledore now."
"Great, good luck. Don't lose your temper again."
"Okay," Harry laughed. He picked up his wand from the table and holstered it.
"I'll see you in a little while."
"I'll be here."
"Listen," Harry said, "I'll burn occasionally, so you will know I am fine."
"Great," Draco agreed, "I will, too."
"Perfect," Harry said, and he walked over to the fire.
"Harry," Draco called after him.
"Yes?" Harry said, turning.
"Don't do anything rash." Draco had an odd sort of look in his eyes, but Harry could not tell quite what it was.
"I won't," Harry replied, puzzled. He could tell that Draco was not telling him something. He stepped closer to the fire and grabbed a handful of Floo powder.
"Draco," Harry said suddenly, turning back to his cousin. "Go talk with Lupin about what happened today. I know you're still beating yourself up over it, but you shouldn't. Talk to him."
And with that, Harry said, "Hogwarts," and tossed his powder into the fire.He stepped into it and was whisked away into a sea of color before Draco could say another word.
As he traveled, he closed his eyes. His scar was still prickling slightly, and he did not want to become dizzy again.
Harry knew there was a good chance Draco ignored his advice, but he hoped he would go talk with Lupin. He also hoped Lupin would be able to help Draco if they did talk.
Harry felt himself slowing down, so he opened his eyes and threw out his hands. He tumbled out of the fireplace and onto the floor of Dumbledore's office. It took him a moment to take in the scene he had just fallen into.
At Dumbledore's desk was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Harry recognized him by his lime green bowler hat.
Next to Fudge was a big hulking Auror. He had dark brown skin and wore blue robes.
Neither of them had noticed Harry's sudden appearance. Dumbledore, however, glanced at him and smiled.
"Dumbledore," Fudge was saying, "We have to do something. People are scared. We have to evacuate people from high-traffic areas. We have to save people."
"Be that as it may," Dumbledore said, "I believe the better move would be to fight. Voldemort will only get stronger the longer we wait. We have to fight against him."
"But all of the risks involved." Fudge said rather weakly.
As Harry stood, the Auror finally noticed him.
"Who are you?" He roared in a commanding voice, stepping in front of the Minister.
"Harry Potter." Harry said, "I have an appointment with Dumbledore."
"Nice try. I know Harry Potter is dead. He was killed 17 years ago. His story was legendary. Want to try again, or do I need to make you?"
"I really am Harry Potter, and I would like to see you try to make me do anything."
"I have no problem cursing people," the Auror said.
"I don't doubt that." Harry replied.
"Dumbledore, who is this?" Fudge asked, looking at Harry curiously.
"He is Harry Potter." Dumbledore said calmly. "He wasn't dead. He was kidnapped by Voldemort 17 years ago."
"Why was I not informed of this?" Fudge demanded.
Dumbledore shrugged, "It never came up. Harry, it might be better to wait outside until we finish."
"Fine by me," Harry said, and he walked over to the door. He had a hand on the knob when he paused and turned around again.
"May I say something, Minister?"
"I guess so," Fudge said, a bit unsure.
"I just want to say that if you think Voldemort is going to stop once he takes over England, then you are sadly mistaken. In fact, what did you think he has been doing for the past 16 or odd years that he hasn't been in England?"
"What do you mean by that?" Fudge asked quickly.
"Right now, the Dark Lord is in an almost perfect position to take over America, a plan that has been in the works for years. He also has been attempting to control the United Confederation of Wizards. Right now, he has almost ten countries under his control. His reach has been far greater than Britain. He is waiting to come out into the open with all of these countries until he takes over England. Once he does that, there will be no stopping him.
"Evacuating people will only make things worse. You are gathering up all of his victims in one place. Right now, the only hope you have is to try to fight against him and win. There is no other reasonable choice. The sooner you realize that, the better it will be for everyone. In fact, if you wait any longer, I can assure you, the death toll will be much greater than if you were going to go to war."
Harry turned and left the room without another word. However, he could still hear what they were discussing through the door.
"Dumbledore, why wouldn't you tell me the Potter boy was alive? Think of the possibilities! It is like he is back from the dead! He could be a symbol and a rallying point for everyone."
"Minister," The Auror said quickly. "Before we make any plans, we must find out if he is trustworthy or not. We will need to interrogate him, maybe use Legilimency."
"Kingsley," Dumbledore said, "The boy can be trusted, but if you want to try and interrogate him, be my guest. He has a mind like steal; I doubt he could let you in even if he wanted to."
"We will certainly be doing something before this boy becomes any sort of rallying point for us." Kingsley said.
"Well, Dumbledore, I think we are done for now."
Harry heard them coming towards the door and quickly moved away. He did not want to be caught spying.
"Potter," Fudge said curtly as he exited the office. "Tomorrow, we will visit your current place of residence and bring you to the Ministry of Magic. Who are you staying with?"
Harry hesitated, unsure if he was supposed to tell Fudge or not. To his luck, Dumbledore jumped in. "Harry will come back to my office early. You can pick him up from there."
"Very well," Fudge said curtly, and he and Kingsley walked down the stairs and out of sight.
Harry took out his wand and cast a spell on the door, ensuring no one would be able to overhear his and Dumbledore's conversation.
"Take a seat." Dumbledore said as Harry closed the door. "I wanted you to come back so that I could check on you after what happened with the Horcrux. Lupin got in touch earlier and has told me you are having some… peculiar symptoms lately. Would you like to explain them further?"
Harry was surprised that Lupin had bothered to owl Dumbledore but was glad he had. Now, they could get straight to the point.
"Sure." Harry said. "Every so often, this scar on my forehead hurts." Harry pushed back his hair so Dumbledore could see his scar clearly.
"It's like my head is being chiseled open. This pain continues to build until it reaches a sort of peak. Then everything goes black around me, and I can see what Voldemort is seeing and thinking about. After a while, I come back again. Though, this past time, it was almost like he knew I was there and pushed me out. I am not sure why any of this is happening."
Dumbledore contemplated Harry's words for a moment and then asked, "Have you tried to block him?"
"Of course I have. When I did, I was successful, but Sirius and Lupin said I sort of projected my memories when I did. Again, I don't know why that would have happened. Also, the next time my scar hurt, it was way worse than normal, and I couldn't block him."
"Unfortunately, I am also unsure of why this is happening to you; however, I do have a suspicion if you wish to hear—"
"Go on." Harry said.
"When you destroyed the Horcrux, it mentioned something about a curse. Originally, we did not know what the consequences of this curse were, but now I am afraid they are more dire than we could have realized. The curse gave you a direct connection to Voldemort's head through that scar on your forehead. I believe that when you were young, Voldemort bound you with a blood oath."
"A what?" Harry interjected.
"A blood oath. It is one of the only curses that can be done without the consent of both parties. In order to perform it, Voldemort would have had to take some of your blood into him."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked.
"By taking your blood into his veins, he ensured that you took an oath to him, an oath which you obviously broke when you went to destroy that Horcrux, which is why it cursed you."
"Do you think there is any way to break the curse?" Harry asked. Dumbledore sighed heavily.
"That, I am afraid, I do not know the answer to. Under normal circumstances, I would think by destroying the ring, the curse, too, would be destroyed. However, seeing as you have already done that…"
"Would there be any other way?"
"No, unless…"
"Go on."
"I think if you wanted to get rid of the curse altogether, then you would have to kill Voldemort, or he has to kill you. It would have to be very particular circumstances, ones that would seem completely preposterous, except this is not the first time something has stated you must face him. I have heard it once before, from the prophecy."
Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second and then asked the question which had been lingering in the back of his head since the Horcrux had first been destroyed.
"Can you tell me what the prophecy said?"