Jittery and broken words drew themselves in the dark and fiery chaos of the rapidly disintegrating Defense Tower.

Brok-n l-g, healable.

Injured arm, hea-l-aaaa-ble.

Minor cUts and bRuises, -lable- Ladle?

Ladle.

Ladle?

Pain receptors, burnedOUT.

Core limiter,Shattered and lost.

Core, out of contro-

HeadInjury from fa-, -hea-.

FacialDamagEfr- cLAW-g, healable.
Horcrux destroyed, memories retained.Destruction suggested.
Emotional and psychological damage…catastrophic.

Hogwarts was evacuated and Aurors were summoned to help both with the students and getting the fire put out.

It proved impossible. No matter what, the fire simply raged on, devouring all their spells and stopping any attempt to rescue Harry.

However.

Somebody who wasn't Mad-Eye Moody or Harry Potter, crawled from the tower to be pulled across the bridge that still connected the tower to the main body of Hogwarts.

He was burned beyond recognition and smiled brokenly at their questions, voice drowning in the roar of magic.

Magic alarms screamed somewhere in the distance, debris raining down from the burning floors above. Harry didn't pay too much attention to it, too busy trying to reign in the absolute chaos stemming from his exposed core.

He was sprawled on the floor, several levels below Mad-Eye's office.

The magic manifested into hands which were currently clawing at everything around him. Some were calmer, hovering above him and making sure he didn't get hit by debris.

Voices whispered ancient and forgotten things in his was something new,they told him.

Something old.

Something grand.

He was a dragon in a world of ants, it told him gently as the magic curled around him.

The truth that had always shaped his life had finally been revealed, thanks to Tom's memories. They let him see SO much.

So, so much.

A prophecy spoken byTrelawneyhadutterlydestroyed his life. Snape had doomed his parents with unbridled joy and Dumbledore had most certainly been steering him towards an eventual final battle, his magic told him.

Harry saw names of spells and wards that had been placed on him. It moved across the magic field above him, telling him everything. Trackers, monitoring spells, wards on the Dursleys' house, bloodwards...

They were gone now, taken out by his core, along with all other spells on the was unwatched andfreeeeeee.

The words "Dumbledore had an Order"trailed across the magic, but his mind was still reeling over the fact Dumbledore had orchestrated his entire life.

Made sure he was so miserable in the muggle world that he'd embrace the wizarding world like a drowning man. Make him as obsessed with it as Tom was. Make him willing to do anything for his home, the only place that accepted him.

Anything.

'No.' Harry breathed unevenly, nails digging into the stone floor. 'No.'

Save it from himself as Lily had sacrificed herself. ForTHEM. For the Greater Good of the wizarding world!

'No.'Harry shook his head, the chaos screaming in refusal, new and terrible. Childish. It set off another explosion.

Harry moved slightly, shaking hand touching hair wet from blood and exposed sucked in a deep breath, feeling immensely ill.

He had never been his own person. He had the Horcrux since Voldemort first attacked him. He wasn't a person to Dumbledore or anybody in his little Order.

His magic screamed, echoing him and tore at his surroundings, taking out walls and obliterating furniture.

'No...'

It was too much, it was too much, it was too much.

His entire life had been set up. The abuse he had suffered had been seen as anecessityto make him strong. Resilient for when he would face the wizarding world. Strong in the face of adversity and hostility he was bound to meet.

The knowledge broke something in him. The will to just bear the unfairness of it all. He could imagine Dumbledore with a sarcastically sad face, telling him itwas just how things were.

"You must die for us, Harry.' The old man said sadly, head held high. 'It's what you were born for. Your death will make the world a better place for people to live in."

Like...Malfoy.

He laughed hysterically, the fire around him growing stronger. It was true, wasn't it? Despite everything, Malfoy was more of a person to Dumbledore. Harry was just a fate was to die for the wizarding was the reason for his birth.

Dumbledore had raised him for an easy fix for a worthless societ-NO!

NO NO NONO NO NO

He wouldn't do it. He wouldn't be sacrificed for them. He wouldn't die for them.

Never.

A staggering rage crawled up his spine, feeding into his magic which went berserk on his surroundings. The firestorm of chaos above echoed it, making it even harder to stop.

He could do so much now,his magic told him.

No wand needed.

Unmake, remake, create…

Bend reality.

He focused on getting control over the chaos, his chaos. The things it was showing him…

What was left of Harry Potter wouldn't unleash such a thing on his schoolmates or matter how much they deserved it. No matter how much he hated them. And good god, did he hate them.

Deep breaths….deep breaths…

It was like reigning in a force of , unstoppable.

It was all about will. And he had so much of it. It was his chaos. All he had to do was call it back.

'Shh. Shh.' He dug his nails into the floor, grasping at the unfathomable force. ' .'

It tore at him like wind, formless and wild, screaming with his voice. More explosions rang out.

'Come. Here!' The stone moved under his fingers, almost like clay. He felt the chaos buckle and yield to the will that carried him through the torture. 'Come. To. ME!'

Abruptly the hands, Grasps, stopped tearing at everything and the fire died instantly. The magic obeyed and came back to him, causing things to collapse as it left the structure itself.

'Hush…' He breathed deeply, feeling his core burning in his chest, focusing and stabilizing. The ceiling rained down around him and everything jolted violently as some part of the tower gave way below. The walls and floors broke around him. 'Hush…'

The last thing he registered was a large trunk crashing through the ceiling nearby.

His eyes snapped open to see the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing and bolted upright, thoughts and magic merged to the point he couldn't untangle himself from it.

'Mister Potter?' Pomfrey called somewhere in the room. The witch rushed over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, making him flinch andsnarlat her.

'Don't worry, Mister Potter, you're safe.' Pomfrey said gently, looking incredibly worried. 'Harry?'

He snarled, pulling away from her, but quickly hit the bed's headboard.

He wasn't safe, the chaos with them, not with Dumbledore or anybody with him.

Too hurt. Too hurt…tired.

Sleep.

Whatever Pomfrey said next he didn't hear, abruptly blacking out.

Gotham was Gotham, but Joker was fairly suresomebodywould have reacted to the bleeding and badly wounded boy standing across the street, but nobody did.

Possibly because their attention was on him and Riddler, but the boy wassonoticeable! He was missing most of his forehead!

Joker tilted his head, attention slipping from Riddler to focus on the boy, instantly noticing his hands were bloody and shook violently, the kind of shaking you'd get fromtorture.

Joker raised an boy couldn't be more than 14, if that. He was tiny.

The boy's face was, besides the torn off forehead, littered with cuts and bruises. His black and red tracksuit was ruined. His left arm was bleeding and the way he was standing suggested his leg was broken.

Really, the boy looked like he had been throughhell.

Aaaand nobody was looking at him.

'-Joker? Are you listening?' Riddler asked, annoyance growing at the shift of his attention.

The boy's eyes were green.

A wave of fury hit him and whispers from a broken psyche touched his ears. A connection.

Joker raised his hands and shoved Riddler to the side and moved forwards, only to see the boy had vanished in the 2 seconds he hadn't been looking at him.

'What the…' He muttered, ignoring Riddler's outraged yelling.

Next thing Harry knew, he was staring blankly at Pomfrey and a very anxious looking McGonagall. He didn't remember waking up.

'Mister Potter?' McGonagall called, stepping forwards. When he didn't respond, she looked back to Pomfrey. 'Who found him? Where was he?'

'Nobody found him.' Pomfrey shook her head and went back to him, very carefully taking his hand. It shook violently. 'He just showed up by himself. I found him going through my potions. He was trying to find something for his head.'

'Has he said anything?

'No. Nothing.' Pomfrey replied. 'He'sveryout of it, Professor. First time he woke up, he kept snarling at me.'

'...out of it…' Harry heard himself say, while he pulled his hand away from Pomfrey's. '...out…out…out…'

'Harry, lay back down? You're badly hurt.' McGonagall said quietly.

'Hurt.' Harry parroted, leaning away from McGonagall, still seeing her horrified face, believing him to be a honestly thought he had killed Cedric. 'Hurt.'

The chaos whispered with his voice, unreal teeth snapping at the witches, making him shudder as he held it back.

There was a loud crashing noise outside, making all of them jolt.

'Hm?' Harry pulled up his shoulders and peered towards the window. 'Hmm?'

'Don't worry, Mist-...Harry.' Pomfrey said, drawing his attention back to her. 'Nothing to be scared of. The headmaster and the others are getting things under control.'

Harry shook his head and pressed himself into the bed's headboard, wanting to vanish into it and get away from the two witches.

'What happened to his hair?' McGonagall asked. 'It's…white.'

'Permanent spell damage.' Pomfrey lightly touched his hair, almost wearily as he stared at her. 'I'm not sure what caused it. He had a serious skull fracture when he showed up. He must have fallen down several floors.'

Their voices faded for a moment.

Harry touched his head, feeling bandages under his fingers. Soft, spells and ointments working to heal his self-inflicted wound. Besides a murmuring sensation, he felt nothing.

His mind, on the other hand, felt like it was several pieces, jagged shards held together by the Grasp. His limiter had shattered and his mind had gone along with it.

'-believe he's been through a lot, Minerva. The damage isextreme and he is fighting the calming potions-'

'A lot…' He repeated quietly, drifting off again, watching the Grasp write more words in the air.

Emotional and psychological damage…catastrophic.

He was lost in the chaos, seeing shards of visions, falling from one to the other.

-The killing curse roared towards him only to get slammed back by the his core, the equivalent of a magic sun whileMad-Eye burned, screaming-

-Reality screamed as the defense tower was torn apart by the Grasp which reached out and struck at Hogwarts itself-

-He fell from roof of Wayne Industries, laughing hysterically as a masked boy leapt after him, bickering with him and reached for him-

-He fell out of the sky above a massive, dark city, laughing.Free-

-Dark buildings rose around him like flowers, reaching into a dark, churning sky while dark energies whispered to him.

Headlightsbolted past him, the cars were solid beams of colours and light-

Joker tore the steering wheel sharply to the side, spotting the green eyed boy standing in the middle of the road, making the car crash violently into the median. The car took flight, did several turns in the air before crashing into the ground and skidded to stop on the road.

When he managed to tumble out, there was no boy in sight, just one very angry and slightly bewildered Bat.

'Joker.'

'Did you see the boy?!' Joker hissed.

The Bat's eyes narrowed. 'What boy?'

'The boy standing in the middle of the fucking road! Black hair, piercing green eyes, covered in blood!' Joker pointed past Batman. 'Wearing some black and red tracksuit? Little badge of a lion on his chest! Looks like he's been through hell?!'

The Bat tilted his head, likely listening to his fucking butler.

Joker looked past the Bat, not seeing the boyanywhere.

'The fuck is happening?' He grumbled, barely registering the Bat pulling him free of the car wreck and hauling him over to the Batmobile.

'Where is he?!'

Ghost?

He had seen ghosts before, that boy was entirely too solid to be one. Something else. Vision?

Visitation?

He fully expected to see the boy appear on the seat next to him on the trip to the police station. He knew how these things worked!

'Why did you crash?' Batman asked over the car's comms.

'Magically appearing and vanishing boy distracted me, Bats, I thought I made that clear!'

'There was no boy on the road.'

'Bat, do you understand what "vanishing" means?'

The falling slowed. The chaos became structured, settling as Harry got more and more control back.

The Grasp, his magic, reached out and touched the dark city and felt the dark energies that surrounded it. It came from below.

-Ancient blood from a warlock impaled into the earth and entombed alive-

city,he heard the name in the dark energies and saw the city's children, fighting and feuding with each other and the Dark Knight.

-Harry chuckled wildly, much to the masked boy's annoyance. Not that he could do anything about it, they were stuck now.-

-The gigantic snake made from metal bent down towards him-

-The plants curled around his arms, fingers, around his ear, whispering ever so softly to him-

-The shadows moved in the corner of Harry's eyes. The Batman came out of it, advancing towards him, reaching for him.

Harry backed away, the ancient stone of the tower cold under his feet. Hitting the battlements, he looked over his shoulder to see Gotham below. Light from the windows bright against the darkness.

He climbed up and looked back to see Snape standing in the Bat's place. Pale and angry as ever.

Snape lunged after him and Harry leapt, laughing-

Harry woke up screaming, shaking with something his body thought might be pain, sensing a bigger body sitting next to him. He shrieked when arms slipped around him to pull him up from the bed.

'Shh, darling. You're dreaming again.' A male, purring voice said by his ear, so close he could feel the lips speaking. 'Shhhhhhh. It's alright.' He felt a hand land on his racing heart. 'Don't you worry, sweetheart. Remember what I said.'

'W-what? Hmm?' Harry felt the man press his head against his own. Long strands of green hair fell into his view. 'Mmh?' He relaxed, feeling silly. It was fine. Joker was watching over him...

...Joker?

'Chaos is fair.' Poison green eyes looked into his while a hand brushed hair out of his face. 'Chaos is fair.'

FAIR!

'Chaos is fair!' Harry gasped, jolting awake again. His uninjured arm shot out to grab the man who had been there a second ago, but he found nothing.

'Wh-where? Where did he…' His eyes darted around, seeing only a nearby table with a batch of potions, his glasses and rows of beds. '...Joker?' He called out to a silent room. 'Joker?'
He felt utterly hysterical for a wild second,needingto see the man again.

'Harry?' Pomfrey came back to him, frantically looking from him to the potions on the table.

'Where…?' Harry called again, before his vision flickered. 'Where is he?'

'Harry, lay still...' Pomfrey said, almost pleadingly. 'You're very badly hurt. You have the let the potionswork.'

'Chaos is fair…' Harry murmured, eyelids falling shut, seeing poison green eyes in the darkness that claimed him. 'Chaos is…fair...'

Fair. Fair, fair,the Grasp echoed.

FAIR!

He woke up again, a little calmer and barely able to move, presumably thanks to Pomfrey's potions.

The others would be so outraged to find out he had survived, wouldn't they? Cedric was dead, butHarryhad survived a massive explosion?

Him? How dare he?Cedric was dead. The better student wasdead, yet here Harry was, having survived a massive explosion?!How fucking dare he?

"Why won't you just die?" He could hear people asking already.

Mr. Diggory's angry face flashed in his mind, making him jolt. The Diggory's must despise wouldn't?

He couldn't imagine anybody would believe him. They hadn't believed anything else he had said all year. He would be framed for Cedric's death. He had attacked a teacherandblown up a tower. There was no coming back from .

He would be dragged out of Hogwarts! Surrendered to the Ministry who would make sure he was punished!They had enough of him.

Harry breathed shakily, pushing down the panic.

Hehad enough ofthem.

The magic coiled around him, unreal teeth snapping at the rest of the wouldn't let them hurt him.

Harry shook, arms wrapped around himself, feeling the magic curl and uncurl around him as he drifted off again.

Voldemort's memories were too much. They would drive him mad, maybe madder. Maybe turn him into the fucking snake bastard.

Ugly thiiiing.

The Grasp was already tearing them to shreds, wiping them away.

Harry focused suddenly, the magic freezing in place in the mind space.

It waited, listening.

'He made more. He made more Horcruxes.' He said, looking up at the maimed, red fog that represented Voldemort's memories. 'The diary...was one of them. He made more.'

The Grasp whispered with his own voice, memories couldn't stay. They couldn't.

Too dangerous, it said.

'I don't...' Harry narrowed his eyes at the memories. 'I don't need all of them. Just...'

The locations, the Grasp whispered, catching on.

'Location, memories about them, traps...' He shut his eyes, bracing as the Grasp attacked memories again, going through what remained.

It was a nightmare of visions. Screams, crying. Hundreds of people had rallied to Voldemort, he saw. He forced himself to ignore, focusing on finding the right memories while the Grasp filtered and destroyed anything not needed.

A diary.

A ring.

A cup.

A locket.

A diadem.

And Harry Potter.

'What did you do to yourself, Tom?' Harry asked shakily, feeling even more maimed just thinking about how many times Voldemort had torn his soul apart. Once accidentally!

You want to hunt the shards,the Grasp stated.

Help the others, save them from him.

Why?

'I'm not doing it to helpthem...' Harry ran his hands through his hair. 'It's for myself.' He growled. 'For myself. He's ripped himself to literal pieces and I'm going to destroy every single bit of him!' He put hand on his chest. 'Maybe, just maybe, it will help myself!'

A big maybe, but who knew?

His magicunderstood, singing with violence and rage.

The memories, maimed and fractured were detained in a bubble, separating them from his own deeply battered mind.

With that, he lost grip on things. His mind spiraled and he plunged into darkness and one last fall.