Between Heaven and Hell by Garet Jax

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 11/08/2005
Last Updated: 30/08/2007
Status: In Progress

Sequel to Burning Bright. Look it up. Nearly a year after the fall of Voldemort - something more
sinister has risen. Something that the wizarding world is unable to face, because their Chosen One
is no longer there to defend them. Reviews are welcomed.




1. Prologue: Falling Upwards
----------------------------

Between Heaven and Hell

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark
infringement is intended.

**AUTHOR NOTES:** I received quite a few messages and emails to continue Burning Bright in
some way, and to be honest I had already given it some thought. So here it is; I hope that you
enjoy it. Another epic (hopefully) in the works from me.

*I once heard a man say that what lies in Heaven and Hell can be found here on Earth, and I
must say that I agree with him. Just as in Heaven; we know love, peace and joy. Just as in Hell; we
face death, pain and agony. Granted, time is of no meaning in either Heaven or Hell, but here on
Earth...well you never know when your time is up, so I suggest we make the best of it, make it
worth it. So that in the end, we can face whatever comes afterwards with pride and dignity.-*
Winston Churchill

Prologue: Falling Upwards

A cascade of darkness and light surrounded them both, twisting and spinning around them, and
Harry knew that his friends could no longer see them; in fact he was quite confident that he and
Voldemort were no longer in Godric's Hollow, which meant that Hermione and Ron were no longer
by his side. He fought against the wave of remorse that crashed against his soul at the thought of
never hearing Ron's boisterous laugh again, or of never telling Hermione all that was in his
heart.

He was *not* going to let go. Never, no matter the cost, he wouldn't let go of
Voldemort. Even though the pain was excruciating, even as his skin started to tear apart and a
blinding blue light was shining through where there was once flesh, he would **not** let go.

Voldemort's screams of agony were like sweet music to his ears - it was working, he was
nearly done and soon he could rest. All thoughts of his past life; of Ron and Hermione...of all
that he would lose, they no longer mattered because he knew they would be safe. No longer would
they need to be afraid of living their lives, they would be free to carry on, to grow up and grow
old with each other. Their love would be a standing monument to his sacrifice, and he knew that
they wouldn't let him down., he knew Hermione would rather die herself then fail him - to make
his death meaningless.

Harry nearly laughed out loud at the expression on Voldemorts' face. He couldn't quite
figure if it was fear, confusion or maybe even wonder at the idea that *he* - The Dark Lord,
was finally going to face death; so he decided on it being a mixture of all three. Either way, it
was priceless.

The end was coming, he could feel it. Both a sense of dread and acceptance crept its way through
his being. Part of him wanted to rebel against the idea of dying, to lash out at it, keep it away
for one more moment...but he knew it was pointless to resist. This was his calling; what he was
meant to do. He was born to die, to heal the world with his passing.

He wasn't sure where he would go next, if it was to be with all those that went before him-
his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore, he wished it would be. To see *them* again would make it
all worth it. To believe that he would finally after all these years, after all the trials and pain
and loss - find peace.

"You think this is the end boy?" Voldemort's voice was strained and Harry could
tell that the former Dark Lord was nearing his end as well.

Harry smiled serenely at him, "For you it is. I'm sure they have a set reserved in hell
just for you Tom."

Voldemort's choked laugh surprised Harry. "So little you understand, Potter. You think
it's over for *you*? Think again, boy."

Harry frowned, "What are you raving about?"

The Dark Lord's blood red eyes dimmed a little as death seeped through his broken and
battered body, "When one falls...another must rise."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, to say something in response to the nonsense that Voldemort was
sputtering; but just as he did the blue light completely engulfed them and Harry let loose a
soul-wrenching scream that shook the heavens as a pain unlike any he has ever felt ripped his very
being apart, and where there was once a blinding blue light and the peaceful melodies of the
phoenix song was now replaced by a suffocating darkness and hideous laughter.

"**When one falls...another must rise.**"

Slowly he spun in the nothing, no sounds or sights - nothing. It was neither dark nor light, it
was just...nothing. Then it came, a chilling voice that seemed to fill his being

"**You are alone...never will you know what it is to love or be loved.**"

He shook his head, attempting to force the voice out of his head - to will the emotions that
those awful words were causing him to feel, away from him.

"**They left you, all of them. Those whom you trusted, and valued. Those whom you even
loved...they all left you.**"

He curled up into the fetal position to better defend himself, to keep the awful thoughts and
emotions from taking over, to keep them from devouring the truth that he knew in his heart.

"***He* left you to fight this war alone...*He* left you before you were even
given the chance to know what it was like to have a father...*He* betrayed your
friendship...*They* never loved you enough to live and watch you grow...and *She* would
never love you.**

He felt the darkness begin to fill him, but still he struggled against it. He would *not*
surrender, he was stronger then the voice. He would *not* be taken, he would *not* be
turned against those he loved. He would *not* be used, never again.

"**You are weak, you let yourself be used by all of them. You were always stronger then
them - even the old man. He knew it and he feared you. Knew that one day you would rise up against
him and challenge his power**."

"N-No. It's n-not true..."

His mouth didn't open, but still he heard himself say the words.

**"They mock you now. You're noble sacrifice has no meaning for *them*. They are
together now you know, as you lie here and rot - Laughing and loving while you are broken into
nothing. Her smiles are for him and him alone...they were never for you..."**

Rage fills him and he cries out. It is futile, he understands that now. Is this what was left
for him? After all he had done, all that he had sacrificed, all that he had suffered through. Was
he still to be punished? Was he meant to spend eternity being tormented for all the good he had
done?

"**Yes. That is your reward, you know. Fate is such a lovely thing isn't
it?**"

"No." His mouth moved this time, he felt his lips move and heard the sound of his own
voice. "It will *not* be like this."

"**Then do something about it. Everything was taken from you...it is time to take it all
back.**"

Power surged through him, like nothing he had ever experienced before. A Power he knew to be
more wonderful and more terrible than anything on Earth. He felt it twist to his liking, to his
commands. He had substance now, the Power did that. That Power which was feared both in Heaven and
Hell, which was a mystery on Earth. His Power. It was time.

"**Yes...now you are ready. Take it all back**"

He grinned maliciously and his eyes glowed like the green death, "I will take it all back.
All of it."

"**Yes! Rise my Dark Lord, take it all back...**"

In a little village called Hogsmead, celebrations were carrying on as they had for nearly a
year. A year since the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort. None of the laughing and cheerful residents
of that little village nor the staff and students of the school that resided at the top of the hill
that overlooked it could know that something was about to happen. Not even the two young adults
that sat together shoulder to shoulder inside a dank pub enjoying drinks with their closest
friends, could possibly imagine that something worse than Voldemort was coming. Something that
would rip their very world apart, something that would challenge the strength of their friendship
and love they shared for their now deceased best friend.

Nothing could prepare them.

The petite girl with the bright brown eyes and the slightly bushy hair felt a burning coldness
race through her and the conversation with her red-headed best friend whom was also her on and
off-again boyfriend suddenly ceased. The others gathered around the table stopped and looked at
her, as her face went pale and tears began to fill her eyes.

Nothing could prepare them for the sight of her crying suddenly and without warning.

Ron grasped her shoulder, his face etched with worry. "Hermione, what's
wrong?"

The young woman's mouth opened and closed a few times before she could respond, "I
don't know...But- I think something terrible has just happened."

Her friends eyes her warily.

She shook her head defiantly, "I know it sounds crazy! But I am telling the truth, I
haven't felt like this since..."

The wonderful and yet terrible vision of her beloved friend being torn away from her as he
sacrificed himself to rid the world of the Dark Lord flashed before her minds eye.

"Since when Hermione?" Ron asked hesitantly.

Hermione turned to him with fearful eyes, "Since Harry died. Gods...I haven't felt
anything like this since that night, Ron."

Ron's face nearly crumbled with the memory of that night, because he knew that feeling all
too well.

Hermione grabbed hold of his shirt frantically, "What does it mean Ron? What does it
mean?"

But he could only stare at her, for he had no answer to her question, and if he was honest with
himself he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it meant.

And nothing could prepare him for what he was soon to encounter...nothing.

To Be Continued....



2. Chapter One: Message in a Pensive
------------------------------------



A/N: Usual Disclaimers apply- JK owns all this stuff, I'm just using it and the characters
for my own personal pleasure and in some cases - torment.

*Evil is inherent in all living beings; but it is the good in humans that allow us to
challenge it - to overcome it. You above all others Harry were born with so much goodness within
you…I daresay* *that Voldemort knows that now, w**hich is why he fears you more than any
other - even* *more than he feared me* *- because he doesn't understand it.*
*This means, he doesn't understand you.* Albus Dumbledore's Portrait, Hogwarts
Headmaster's Office.

Chapter One: Message in a Pensive

“I don't care if it is silly, Ron. She has a right to know - Butterbeer.”

Ron sighed as Hermione said the password to the Headmistress' office and reluctantly
followed her through the door as the two gargoyles that stood guard over the ancient entrance
jumped to life and allowed them passage.

Ron shook his head, “I'm not saying she doesn't have a right to know Hermione - just
that you might be taking this a little too far. Don't you reckon you're being a little
overdramatic about this?”

He immediately regretted his choice of words as Hermione turned a glare upon him that would have
caused Voldemort to turn over in his grave.

“*Over**dramatic*?” She said through clenched teeth as her face turned beet-red.
“Ron…you know what we went through the night he - the night Harry died. You remember what it felt
like don't you? You remember the coldness that settled over your heart when you saw him
disintegrate before our eyes? It's never really gone away, at least not for me.”

“Never for you…” Ron mumbled.

Somehow she had ended up directly in front of him - her face barely inches from his own, her
eyes filling with tears and her index finger jabbing him *hard* in the chest, “Don't you
*dare* mock this Ron - you know what he meant to us - to me.”

Ron's shoulders sagged in defeat while he rubbed a sore spot on his chest, “I know
Hermione…believe me I know.” *And I will never be enough…not for you.*

“You know what exactly Mr. Weasley?” the Headmistress' rough voice caused them both to jump
and look at her in surprise.

She raised an eyebrow at her two former students, “Surprised to see me here - In my own
office?”

Hermione was the first to recover, “Of course not Professor, we were just discussing something
and…”

The aged woman waved her hand, “No need to explain Hermione. As a matter of fact - I have been
expecting you.”

Hermione's eyes widened, “You have? Why?”

McGonagall smiled at the pair, “Probably for the same reason you are here now. Please sit down
both of you.”

The Headmistress waved them to a pair of comfortable looking chairs that sat before her large
mahogany desk, which was cleaner and more organized then Hermione had ever seen it while it
belonged to Dumbledore.

“Would you care for some tea and cookies?” McGonagall asked. “The cookies arrived this morning
from your mother Mr. Weasley.”

Ron immediately snatched a couple cookies from the plate on the desk and stuffed one completely
into his mouth.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Did you even chew that?”

“A bit.” Ron replied, not waiting to swallow before he answered.

“Ahem” A throat being cleared turned Hermione's and Ron's head towards the entrance
where Remus Lupin stood next to his fiancée Tonks. They were both wearing smiles and holding
hands.

“Wotcher Ron, Hermione.” Tonks smiled at the two as she pulled Remus further into the office,
“You wanted to see us Minerva?”

“Remus, Tonks - please do come in.” The Headmistress summoned two more chairs with a wave of her
wand, “Yes Tonks - we are just awaiting the arrival of one more person.”

“And I have arrived Minerva.”

The voice chilled Hermione's blood - a nasal, high-pitched voice that she had to endure for
nearly seven years. Before anyone could say anything, Ron was up out of his chair, his wand drawn
and pointed at Severus Snape, who stood nonchalantly at the doorway with his trademark greasy hair
and condescending sneer plastered on his pasty white face.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here, traitor?!” Ron roared, his wand shaking slightly.

Snape merely raised a sleek eyebrow at him, “I was invited Weasley.” Without waiting for any
word from the Headmistress, he strode through the office and settled against an adjacent wall. “Put
your wand away boy, I am not here to duel you. If I was - you wouldn't have even been given the
chance to rise from your chair.”

Ron was still shaking in silent rage, and the temperature of the once moderately cool room
seemed to drop a couple dozen degrees.

“If you wanted to duel him, I would have killed *you* before you raised your wand,
Snape.”

Hermione turned to see that Remus too, had stood from his chair, his sharpened incisors exposed
for the former potions master to see that he meant business, Snape swallowed slowly.

Snape cleared his throat, “Be that as it may Remus…I was invited by the Headmistress. Believe
me; I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here.”

Hermione never moved her eyes from the figure leaning against the wall throughout the
conversation - she never thought she would feel such hatred for another living being, let alone
someone who despite appearances and attitude was on the same side - worked to achieve the same
goals.

Snape turned to face her, his sneer slowly faded as an unusual expression appeared on his face -
if she was thinking straight at the moment she might have recognized it for something akin to
sympathy, but she wasn't thinking clearly, so she didn't.

“Sit down Remus - Mr. Weasley, please.” McGonagall huffed impatiently form her chair, “We do not
have the time for this. I have asked you all here for a very important reason.”

Hermione reluctantly broke her stare from Snape and faced the Headmistress, “What is it that you
needed Professor?”

McGonagall turned her tired eyes to the young witch, “As I said when you entered Hermione, I
believe that the reason you and Mr. Weasley are here to see me is the same reason I asked them
here.”

Remus and Tonks cast curious glances at the two young adults while Snape merely raised an
eyebrow.

McGonagall fixed each of them with a cold, hard look. “What is spoken here remains here within
this room. Is that understood?”

Everyone nodded while Snape grunted in his corner.

The Headmistress nodded her head in approval. “Good, now…”

She trailed off as she reached into a top drawer of her desk and pulled out a strange looking
device and set it on the desk for everyone to see. It resembled a small basin set atop a pedestal.
It stood no more than a foot high and was silver in color.

Snape took a step towards the desk, his mouth open in surprise, “Minerva…is that?”

McGonagall nodded, “Yes Severus - it is.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, while Remus slumped in his chair and Tonks appeared close to
tears.

“What is that Professor?” Hermione asked anxiously.

McGonagall looked sadly at the young witch for a moment before responding, “This Hermione - is a
pensive that belonged to Albus Dumbledore.”

Ron gaped at the strange object, “But- How…how did you get it? The pensive we saw looked nothing
like this one and we saw that one over a year ago when Harry started his quest to find the
Horcruxes.”

The Headmistress nodded, “You are correct Mr. Weasley- however this pensive arrived only just
this morning…and by a very familiar messenger…”

She trailed off as her eyes wandered up to the stairs where a large perch stood isolated from
the rest of the room, and atop it sat a very tired looking snowy white owl.

Hermione jumped from her seat, “Hedwig!”

The owl turned her eyes toward the voice and flapped her wings in excitement. Immediately she
shot form the perch and glided down to land gently upon Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione smiled at the loyal owl and rubbed her feathered head with a finger, “Oh, it's so
good to see you girl. Where have you been all this time?”

Hedwig fixed her with a stare that plainly said *if you only knew*.

“If we may continue?” McGonagall said in a quiet voice.

Hermione turned red and sat back down, Hedwig still perched upon her shoulder. “Sorry
Professor.”

“Now then, the note that arrived with the Pensive said to summon you all here before witnessing
what it contained. Now that you are all present, I don't think we should wait a moment
longer.”

With a flick of her wand, the pensive hummed to life -the clear water like substance that filled
the basin began to bubble for a few moments before finally a gray mist rose from the bowl and
hovered in the air above them.

“My friends…”

There was no mistaking that soft voice…Hermione shivered, it had been over a year since she had
heard the former Headmaster's voice, and still it brought her nearly unequalled comfort.

Gradually and methodically the mist began to twirl around the room until it started to take a
very familiar shape above them. Gasps were heard from everyone in the room as - standing no more
then two feet high and floating above the Headmistress' desk was none other than Albus
Dumbledore. He was made entirely of the mist that rose from the basin, but still had that
unmistakable twinkle in his eyes.

The Headmistress looked close to tears as Tonks and Remus pushed their chairs closer to the
fallen Headmaster. Even Snape's usually present scowl was gone, replaced by a look of
shame.

Ron and Hermione just stared at the old wizard in shock.

“My friends…” Dumbledore began, “I hope this message finds you all well and enjoying these days
of peace.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow curiously at Pensive Dumbledore.

The wizard smiled serenely and his eyes twinkled in amusement, “You are perhaps wondering how I
know that there is peace in the land now? Because if there was not - Hedwig would not have
delivered this message. If my calculations are correct, it must be no more than a year after Harry
defeated Voldemort for the final time.”

He paused as if waiting for someone to confirm his theory.

Not seeing anyone else making taking the initiative Hermione spoke up, “Yes sir…it has been just
over a year.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Good, good. Thank you Miss Granger.”

Ron's mouth dropped open and Hermione gasped, “How - what the?”

Pensive-Dumbledore smiled knowingly, “You are perhaps curious as to how I can respond to you -
since I am dead? It is quite simple my friends, within this special pensive is a portion of my
*essence* so to speak. It is very strong magic, and I used a great portion of the magic I
possessed before I died using it on this pensive. If I ask or am myself asked a direct question
that I know the answer to, I will of course respond.”

McGonagall shifted nervously in her seat, “Albus…there are many thinks I wish to ask you old
friend, but I think for now we should get to the point of this meeting.”

The aged wizard turned his eyes to his replacement and nodded, “I quite agree Minerva.”

Pensive-Dumbledore began to pace back and forth over the desk, “The reason I have for this
meeting is this: A new Dark Lord has risen.”

“But…how? When? And who?” Hermione asked as her hands gripped the arms of her chair tightly.

Pensive-Dumbledore frowned, “Very recently I assume Miss Granger - and as to whom…I am afraid I
have no idea. It could be any number of Tom Riddle's former Death Eaters, but make no
mistake…it is a true *Dark Lord* that has risen, and he or she should be treated as such.”

Even though the former Headmaster was now only a memory contained in a pensive and made of mist
and magic, she could tell by his hesitation that he wasn't being entirely truthful in his
explanation.

Remus leaned forward a little more, “How do you know that a new dark lord has risen?”

Pensive-Dumbledore looked upon the werewolf a moment before responding, “Because of the charm
that I placed upon this pensive before my passing and again afterwards…”

Ron's brow furrowed in confusion, “After…? How, you were dead after…right?”

“That is correct Mr. Weasley - however the charm that was placed upon this particular pensive
after my death was not done by me…but by Harry Potter.”

Hermione shuddered, “What?”

A sad expression formed upon the face of the old wizard, “Yes - and I had truly hoped that it
would never be needed. You see, Harry placed the second charm on the pensive only in the case of
his death upon fighting Voldemort.”

Pensive-Dumbledore paused for a moment as if to collect himself, “Harry thought that it might be
a good idea incase of his death that you be warned if there was ever a threat like Voldemort again.
In theory - the charm could only be activated if he was not here…living that is.”

Hermione paled, “Incase of his death…Professor did you know that he would die?”

The old Headmaster pursed his lips, “It was a possibility that in order for Harry to defeat
Voldemort he would have to make the ultimate sacrifice to achieve victory.”

Hermione jumped to her feet so quickly that Hedwig hooted in surprise and flew from her shoulder
and back to the perch on the landing.

Her face was red and her hands were clenched into fists, “A *possibility*!? Did he know?
Did Harry know that he was going to die so that we could all live? Did he have any idea what that
would do to us?”

The others in the room gasped at the young witch's outburst, but the former Headmaster
seemed unaffected by it, “Knowing Harry as I did Miss Granger - I would say yes. Harry more than
likely had some idea of what might be required of him.”

Hermione was furious - not only at Harry and Dumbledore for not telling her…them what he might
have to do, but more so with herself for not seeing it, for not finding some other way for Harry to
defeat Voldemort, some way to allow him to be with her now…instead of gone - dead.

She seemed to falter and swayed on her feet, Ron was out of his chair in an instant - his hands
on her shoulders to keep her steady and help her back into her seat.

Snape spoke up for the first time, “So would you suggest we do sir?”

Pensive-Dumbledore fixed the former potions master with a hard look, “What is expected of you
Severus…reach out to this new Dark Lord. Discover what his intentions are and find the means to
bring him down.”

Snape's left eye twitched then he nodded briskly, “Of course sir.”

“What about the rest of us Albus?” McGonagall asked.

“Recall the Order Minerva- I fear that they will once again be needed. Use Number 12 Grimmuald
Place once again as the base of operations.”

Remus cleared his throat nervously, “That might be a problem sir - we have not been able to
enter the house since the night…since the night Harry died.”

Pensive-Dumbledore looked confused for a moment, “I see…well that does change things. Perhaps it
would be best to find another location in which to gather the Order.”

McGonagall nodded, “I'll get to work on that right away Albus.”

“We could always use the Burrow. It is just as protected as the old headquarters was.” Ron
suggested quietly.

Hermione gave him a half smile, “That's actually not a bad idea Ron.”

Ron's chest puffed out with pride at the compliment, “Yeah…good idea too I think.”

Remus and Tonks shared a chuckle while Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Actually…” Snape interrupted, “I was able to open Grimmuald Place just yesterday.”

“That's not…“ Hermione began anxiously.

Snape sneered at her, “Possible. Yes I am aware of that Miss Granger. However- it does not
change the fact that I was allowed entrance into the house.”

Pensive-Dumbledore cleared his throat, “I wasn't expecting this - it could be rather
fortunate…or something else entirely.”

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, “Perhaps- perhaps this was part of Harry's charm he
placed on the pensive. To allow entrance into Grimmuald Place if it were ever needed again.”

The others seemed to think this over and all but Snape agreed with them.

“I am not so sure -it doesn't make sense. Something else is going on here.”

“Then I suggest you discover what it is Severus. Do what you have to do, what you do the best.”
The old wizard said sagely before turning to Ron and Hermione. “I would like the two of you to
return to Grimmuald Place and try to discover the reasons for it re-opening - as much as I would
like to believe in your theory Miss Granger, I am of the mind that Severus is closer to the truth
on the subject. Find out *why* it has suddenly opened its doors again.”

*************************

Number 12 Grimmuald Place

He hadn't expected to return here so soon. Of course he hadn't expected a lot of things
that happened recently to have occurred at all. But nonetheless - here he was.

The tall, hooded figure stood inside the doorway to the ancient House of Black and was instantly
transported back in time. The walls, which were blackened with dust and grime, became white and
clean. The eerie silence which permeated throughout the entranceway was replaced by sounds of
laughter and muffled chatting.

*So many memories…*

He heard a bark-like laugh come from the foyer and the part of his mind the wanted these images
and sounds to be real begged his legs to carry him to forward towards the sound. The other part of
him, the side that *carried* him from that dead place, from where nightmares and agony ruled -
ordered him to ignore it. To get what he came here for and be done with this place…once and for
all.

With a sigh, the man stepped through the magical barrier and walked quietly down the hall,
ignoring the sounds of laughter and the smell of food being cooked in the kitchen.

*Ignore it…you don't need it anymore. You are beyond this, more than this.*

His jaw clenched in annoyance at the voice, but he did not stop. His pace became quicker and
more determined, until he came to a stop a set of double doors that he had only once before been
beyond. He waved his hand and the doors opened with a loud creak.

“Why is the front door opened Ron?”

The man froze in place. *That voice*. He had heard it so many times, in his dreams, in that
place where his nightmares were replayed within his head over and over for untold millennia.

“Hermione look! Tracks - someone has been here!” Another voice responded.

“No Ron- someone is here now…” that voice spoke again and again the sound tore through what was
left of his soul like the most powerful shredding curse.

“Oh bloody hell…Who are you!?”

The man turned slowly, the hooded cloak hiding his features from the new arrivals, and faced
them. Their wands were out and pointed directly at his heart, but he had no fear - they
couldn't harm him. Even if he wanted to be released from this walking curse, to finally have
peace - he knew that these two, no matter how powerful they were, would not be able to grant him
that one request - if he truly wanted it that is.

“You're a Dark Wizard aren't you? You have no right to be here!” The red-head growled
through clenched teeth.

The man merely smirked at them and spoke with a casual voice, “What do you know of Dark Wizards
Mr. Weasley?”

Hermione's eyes widened, “You're him aren't you? The new Dark Lord?”

The man cocked his head slightly to the left as if he were appraising them, “Dark Lord? Yes - I
suppose I am, Miss Granger.”

Much to the hooded man's surprise, Ron waved his wand and a bolt of red light flared from
the tip and shot towards him like lightening. As if dismissing a small child the man waved his hand
and the red bolt jerked off its path and struck the wall to his left.

The two young wizards gaped at the display of wandless magic as the man smiled, “Tsk Tsk Mr.
Weasley. You are not ready to face me quite yet - I rather doubt you will ever be ready.”

Ron's face turned red with anger and he began to wave his wand again, but faster then their
eyes could follow the man flicked his hand out towards the wizards and both of their wands were
sent flying out of reach.

“I expected better Miss Granger…” The man scolded her quietly.

Quickly regaining her composure Hermione took a timid step forward, “What are you doing
here?”

The man looked at her for a moment, “Just…remembering. They say that you can never go home again
you know? This was my second to last stop - and I just wanted to see if that saying was at all
true.”

The man touched a finger to his chin thoughtfully, “Of course I never really had a home to speak
of…so I really shouldn't be surprised or disappointed that it turned out to be completely
false.”

Ron's eyebrows rose into his hairline, “What? That made no sense what so ever.”

The man laughed bitterly, “Oh it did…you just have to think about it a bit…Ron.”

Hermione took another step towards the man and had to pull away from Ron's grip on her arm
as he tried to restrain her.

“Who are you…really?” She asked, her eyes were now brimming with tears.

The hooded man had to look away from her eyes when he answered, “I am as you said - the new Dark
Lord.”

Hermione shook her head sadly, “No - who *were* you?”

The man flinched as if stung, “No one of consequence…what and who I once was is long
gone…Hermione.”

Hermione stepped back at the sound of her name, “How do you know our names?”

The man shrugged, “I know everything about you…both of you.”

Ron stepped forward and was now beside Hermione, “How did you get in here?”

The man raised his left arm and they caught a glimpse of a shiny black ring on his middle
finger, “Who else could open the door- except the owner?”

Hermione didn't even have time to register his response as a bright blue light shot from his
outstretched hand and engulfed both her and Ron, and all she saw after that was dancing green eyes
and an infectious smile that warmed her soul and finally darkness.

To Be Continued….

-->



3. Chapter Two: The Cupboard Door
---------------------------------



Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns al this stuff - I am making no money off it and am just having a bit
of fun. So lighten up will ya?

*I've got another confession to make
I'm your fool
Everyone's got their chains to break
Holding you
Were you born to resist?
Or be abused?
Is someone getting the best of you?
Or are you gone and on to someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn't have
But had no use
I was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I'll break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can't choose
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse
Is someone getting the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
It's real, the pain you feel
Your trust?
You must confess
Is someone getting the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
It's real, the pain you feel
The life, the love you'd die to heal
The hope that starts the broken heart
Your trust? You must confess
Is someone getting the best of you?
I've got a another confession, my friend
I'm no fool
I'm getting tired of starting again
somewhere new
Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I'll never give in-I refuse
Is someone getting the best of you?*

- Foo Fighters (Best of You)

Chapter Two: The Cupboard Door

He wasn't quite sure what he felt as he looked down at them, lying there unconscious on the
floor. The emotions within him both light and dark warred with each other, snapped and clawed and
bit and hissed, the monster within forcing away anything that was unnatural and harmful. This
unnatural tenderness he felt for them…this sympathy. Was he even supposed to feel anything? Why
would he feel this…whatever *it* is every time he looked at her?

*What is that?*

Is that allowed now, knowing what it is he has become? *The Dark Lord* - more so than
Grindenwald, or even Riddle was before him. They wouldn't have been able to even comprehend the
power he possessed - the magic that coursed through ever fiber of his being. He was no longer like
other wizards, that magic was there just within reach and if you trained long and hard enough it
would do what you *needed* it to do. No, for him *he* was the magic, and it did what
*he* told it to do - *he* controlled it.

That *thing* in the void knew it as well - he could feel it, could feel its apprehension at
having him there within its presence. Even as it twisted and tortured him into this thing he now
was. He knew it. It feared him…well he wasn't sure if it was fear exactly, but it was
close…close enough. He would have to think on it later, but now he needed the scroll. That
*thing* in the void needed the scroll.

With a sigh and one last look at *her* sleeping form he turned and walked silently through
the double doors and down the stone steps into the cellar below.

*********************

The people walked by - couple holding hands and laughing quietly with each other, they paid him
no mind. He was just a stranger, not looking out of place and yet not looking like he belonged
there either.

Severus Snape cursed out loud; he couldn't believe the blatant stupidity of those two. How
they had ever helped Potter defeat Voldemort he would never know. He checked his wrist watch again
- they were twenty minutes late, they should have been here and reported their findings at the
Black House already. He was only one apparition away from them, but that was beside the point. He
was not here to baby-sit two *adult* wizards…

“Damn fools.” Snape muttered.

With a resigned sigh, Snape closed his eyes and pictured the front walk of Number 12 Grimmuald
Place in his mind and with a barely audible crack he was gone.

**********************

The first thing Snape noticed was the front door wide open, and the barrier he had placed just
the day before to prevent only himself or those he chose from entering the house, was gone…and no
one besides him and the ghost of Dumbledore had the power to get past that charm.

Quickly and quietly he pulled his wand from its holster and ran to the door and through the
opening.

Snape scanned the entranceway and immediately saw the two wizards who he had to find, cursing to
himself he quietly stepped towards them, never taking his eyes of his surroundings.

Once he reached their bodies he noticed they were breathing and allowed himself a sigh of
relief.

*Damn fools.* Snape thought to himself.

“Yes - I was pretty much of the same mind…*Severus*.”

Snape's blood froze in his veins, he knew that voice, remembered that familiar presence in
his mind.

*It cannot be…*

Slowly and without lowering his wand he faced the speaker. Snape barely held back his shock at
the sight of the man. There standing casually in front of him, was a tall man, taller than himself,
wearing a long hooded black cloak. Under that hood - inside that blackness that Snape could feel
coming off the stranger in waves - was a pair of glowing green eyes. Eyes that he had seen before,
eyes that every time he saw them cursed him - insulted him and made him feel less than human.

“It has been entirely too long…wouldn't you say so *Professor*?” The man mocked him
with his tone, berated him and Snape clenched his teeth in response.

“I know you - from somewhere.” Snape stated as clearly as he could, trying to sound more
courageous than he felt at the moment.

The man looked at him for a long moment, longer than Snape felt comfortable with because those
eyes continued to judge him.

“Perhaps…perhaps we knew each other in a previous life. They say that happens you know, you run
into people on the street everyday, seeing someone among the crowds of huddled masses and pounds of
flesh, and for one fleeting second, you recognize someone. It's only there for a second…but
there it is nonetheless.”

Snape raised a greasy eyebrow at the man, “You're voice is a little different - more
gnarled, but I do know you…”

Snape paused as he felt the mental barriers around his mind begin to shake with the warnings of
an impending intrusion, “And do get out of my head - I don't like it when uninvited quests
hammer at my door.”

He man smiled under his hood, “So -how's you're dear mother these days? Still dead?”

Snape flinched, “How did you -?”

The hooded man shrugged, “You and I have a lot of unfinished business…but as you can see.” The
man made a gesture with his right hand and Snape finally caught sight of a rolled up piece of
parchment. “I have more pressing matters to attend with at the moment.”

The man waved his hand and Snape's wand went flying from his hand, “That's impossible -
what the bloody hell are you!?”

The man waved his index finger back and forth in a scolding manner, “Now, now…*Severus*…you
must remember to control that temper of yours.”

Enraged, Snape pulled his back-up wand from its hidden holster and flicked it towards the
stranger. A jet of yellow light streaked at the man, who casually held out his hand with the palm
facing the spell and Snape watched in absolute shock as one of the deadliest spells in his
repertoire struck the outstretched hand and vanished.

Snape's mouth opened and closed a few times before he found his voice, “IMPOSSIBLE! WHO ARE
YOU!? NOT EVEN THE DARK LORD VOLDEMORT COULD DO SUCH A THING! PULL YOUR WAND AND FIGHT ME!”

The hooded man silently regarded him, “I will fight you *Severus*…when you learn to shut
your mouth…and close your mind!”

Snape's eyes grew wide and then he felt it, magic…magic so intense and powerful that it
pulsated off the stranger in visible waves of a dark blue light. The walls creaked and moaned at
the foreign pressure - almost as if the magic was trying to tear them down, to make room for the
hooded man.

*You…*

The man casually walked towards the former potions mater, his stride confident and as if he had
no care in the world, “Me…”

His voice was menacing and Snape knew then at that precise moment that he could very well
die…his experience and considerable magical abilities would be of no use against this…this
*abomination*.

But he had to know, had to know why this man, what was *once* a man would turn away from it
all for *this*.

“Why? Why would you do this Potter?”

The stranger who was no longer such stopped and stared at Snape, his glowing green eyes dimmed a
little as he considered the question. Finally after what seemed like eons to the former potions
master he replied.

“It seemed like the thing to do…”

There was no emotion in his voice - nothing. Snape, for the very first time in his life, felt
*something* for this young man, who had sacrificed everything for a cause, just like he had
done. Sacrificed his morality and humanity to stop a monster from destroying his world; sacrificed
a treasured friendship to keep the mission on course, sacrificed a noble and caring man to allow
this young man to achieve his goal and his destiny.

“I don't need your pity, *Severus*!” The Dark Lord roared. “I never wanted your pity,
never asked for it! So you can take it - and shove back up your pale, pasty white ass!”

Snape flinched - the magic around Potter flared again, its waves stretching the boundaries of
the houses walls.

“You think I am going to kill you - *Snivellus*…” It was a whisper barely heard over the
crackling of the magic that surrounded the man, but Snape heard it, heard the insulting name as it
attacked his pride and wanted to strike back, but there was no time, nothing he could logically do.
Even Voldemort had never displayed this much raw power before. And if Snape was being completely
honest with himself, he had never feared Voldemort as he feared this man standing before him
now.

A stirring beside them caught their attention, and the man turned his head to see Hermione
beginning to awaken. Suddenly the magic around him died out, his demeanor changed just as
quickly…reverting once again to indifference.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the display of…*what is that?*

The Dark Lord's eyes had ceased glowing as well and they stared transfixed on the sleeping
body of the young witch as her breathing became steadier, soon she would awaken completely.

“Harry…” She mumbled.

The man gasped and moved away so slowly it appeared as if was walking through a mud pit.

*******************

“Harry…” She mumbled.

The Dark Lord gasped and stepped back from her. His resolve was weakening and still couldn't
quite understand why.

What power did this young witch have over him? He knew her in his past life, knew enough to know
that they were once close - as close as two people could be and not have it go beyond friendship.
When he looked at the young man he did not feel this - *aching* in his chest as he did when he
looked upon her.

Her eyes opened, unfocused and a look of confusion crossed her face, “Where..?”

“Don't move Granger!” Snape barked.

*No - not now!* *Hermione!*

The Dark Lord cringed at the voice that rose up inside of him, sounding lost and alone. A little
boy's voice, muffled from behind the door of the cupboard under the stairs.

“ARRGHH!”

Rage welled up inside of him, causing the little boy within to cower in fear. Hermione sat up
immediately as Snape took a cautious step back, his wand still pointed uselessly at the Dark
Lord.

Her eyes immediately found him and fear over took her; she scampered backwards - away, as far
away as possible until her back hit the wall, her eyes wide and fearful.

She scanned the hallway and was surprised to see Snape standing in a defensive position to her
left, his wand raised at the Dark Lord.

“Come to me Granger…quickly.” Snape ordered; his tone left no room for argument.

Jumping to her feet, Hermione quickly raced to stand behind the older wizard.

The Dark Lord smirked at them and Hermione felt a chill run down her spine, “You will never
learn…*Snivellus*. This is not some opportunity to redeem yourself in the eyes of those that
you have wronged, because no matter where you go, or what you do - there you are. *You*.
Always the same; slimy, egotistical, arrogant, self-absorbed, self-righteous and did I mention
slimy…*bastard*.”

Snape raised an eyebrow and sneered, “You are one to talk…you had everything handed to you on a
silver platter…boy. You had the chance to grab hold of greatness and yet here you are, relishing in
the darkness.”

Hermione glanced from Snape to the Dark Lord and back again, looking totally lost and
confused.

“What are you talking about? You know him Professor Snape?”

The Dark Lord laughed- a sound that echoed off the dank walls harshly, “Professor! Oh,
that's rich! You hear that Severus? She called you Professor…as if you ever taught anyone
anything during your time at Hogwarts…unless you gave lessons on how to be a coward and a
traitor.”

Hermione turned red with indignation, “Oh do *shut up* - you talk entirely too much! He was
always serving Dumbledore and protecting Harry! He's not proud of what he had to do - but he
had to do it!”

The Dark Lord regarded her coldly, “When did he ever protect me?”

It was at that moment that Hermione's world spun on its axis and turned upside down. If she
had to put words to it, the sound that came from her chest - was not the sound of it beating
rapidly in fear but the sound of it literally breaking into a millions shards.

“No!”

The verbalization of what she was feeling did not come from her; but from the young man still
lying on the floor. Ron had awoken as well and was now staring at the Dark Lord, his face distorted
in an odd mixture of fury and pain.

He crawled towards the Dark Lord slowly, every movement causing the vein in his forehead to
strain and pulse.

“No Harry…please say it's not true!”

Hermione watched in dreaded anticipation as the Dark Lord raised his arms to his head and pulled
back the hood covering his face.

She swallowed her scream as the hauntingly handsome face that had starred in so many of her
dreams and nightmares during the past year was now before her, in the flesh - *real*.

His face was basically the same -the same defined chin and raised cheekbones. The ever messy
raven hair that always seemed to beg her to run her hands through and the same piercing green eyes
that she fell in love with the very first time she saw them.

The smile however, was gone - replaced by a look of loathing and contempt as he looked at them,
her, Ron and Snape.

An evil grin spread across his face, “Didn't see this coming did you, Hermione? For all
those brains - I must say that I am surprised…I really did expect more from my bookworm best
friend.”

She could only shake her head as the tears fell down her cheeks. Her mind was numb - not wanting
to believe what was happening. That the man standing before them was *her* Harry…*her*
best friend, *her* savior and *her* cherished love that was never to be.

Harry seemed to pause as he took her in, his eyes locked on the tears that cascaded down her
cheeks.

Snape saw his chance, and without hesitation he raised his wand and sent a violent curse at
Harry; which struck him in the chest - lifting him off his feet and sent him flying back down the
hallway and colliding with the far wall.

Hermione whimpered, “Don't hurt him…”

Snape curled his lip, “He will kill us without a second thought Granger. He is no longer the man
you knew. Remember that!”

Ron had gotten back to his feet and had picked up his wand. He faced Snape defiantly, “He's
still Harry! He could have killed us earlier - but he didn't!”

“Oh, but I will now…”

Snape raised his wand again to curse Harry, but a blue bolt of magic hit the potions master in
the abdomen and Hermione and Ron watched in horror has he was violently sent soaring backwards
through the air and out the front door where they could hear him land on the front lawn with a thud
and a low grunt of pain.

Harry was now standing before them, looking as if Snape had not just hit him with a very
devastating spell, the evil grin still on his face.

Somewhere inside herself, Hermione found the strength and courage to finally speak, “Why Harry?!
We are your friends…we love you! Why would you do this to us?!”

The tears in her throat nearly made her choke on her words.

Harry's eyes narrowed, “Do this to you…?” He echoed. “To you…of course that is how you would
see it.”

Something foreign flared inside him then, something long buried and forgotten. *The
Reason.*

"**He** **left you to fight this war alone...****He** **left you before you were
even given the chance to know what it was like to have a father...****He** **betrayed your
friendship...****They** **never loved you enough to live and watch you grow...and**
**She** **would never love you.”**

**"They mock you now. You're noble sacrifice has no meaning for** **them****.
They are together now you know, as you lie here and rot - Laughing and loving while you are broken
into nothing. Her smiles are for him and him alone...they were never for you..."**

Rage like he had never known before roared within him, “YOU DID THIS! BOTH OF YOU! ALL OF THEM!
I AM LIKE THIS BECAUSE OF YOU!”

Hermione and Ron nearly fell over backwards in fear at the outburst as waves of magic flared
around Harry.

“YOU BETRAYED ME! EVERYTHING I DID - I DID FOR YOU!”

His green eyes flared and he turned his menacing glare upon Hermione, “FOR YOU! I HAD NOTHING
LEFT! I SPENT A HUNDRED YEARS FLOATING IN THAT DAMN NOTHINGNESS BEING TORTURED BY YOUR FACE!
WATCHING YOU AND HIM FORGET ALL ABOUT ME - AS IF I NEVER EXISTED! AS IF WHAT I GAVE UP, WHAT I
SACRIFICED FOR YOU WAS WASTED! WAS ALL FOR NOTHING!!”

Hermione, who still had tears falling from her eyes, shook her head sadly, “No Harry - we would
never do that. We love you. *I love you*.”

Ron gripped her arms tightly and nodded, “She's right Harry - we never forgot you, or what
you did for us.”

Harry felt it again, that damn cupboard door, as it began to rattle; the boy within struggling
against his cage, fighting for freedom. Something warm and familiar began to flow through him as
the door opened slightly - then it slammed shut as new wave of rage and bitterness fought to the
surface.

*You don't need them. They are lying.* *They fear you.*

Hermione took a step towards Harry, her arm out and her eyes pleading with him to believe her,
“Harry please…come back to us. We need you. *I need you*…”

The magic around him flared to life again causing Hermione and Ron to jump back.

His face became distorted with rage and hatred, “Not this time Hermione, I know better now.”

Harry pulled his dark cloak around him and regarded them carefully for a moment, “Because of
what we once had, our past friendship - I will show you mercy this once, and allow you to
live.”

The cupboard door shook gently and he had to force it back, slam it shut, lock it up.

He raised his finger, “But only this once - the next time I see you…either of you, it will be
for the last time.”

More tears flowed from Hermione's eyes, “No Harry! Don't do this! Please!”

Harry smiled coldly at them, “Oh I didn't do this - you did Hermione…remember that.”

With those words Harry Potter, the new Dark Lord, apparated away silently and with him he took
all the joy Hermione had ever known in her short life

To Be Continued….

-->



4. Chapter Three: The Avatar
----------------------------

A/N: This chapter is basically filler, but it’s filler with a purpose as many things are
revealed here that will have an effect on later chapters as well as the ending. Hopefully you will
bear with me for this chapter – enjoy!

*Bodies fill the fields I see, hungry heroes end
No one to play soldier now, no one to pretend
running blind through killing fields, bred to kill them all
Victim of what said should be
a servant `til I fall*

*
Soldier boy, made of clay
now an empty shell
twenty one, only son
but he served us well
Bred to kill, not to care
Do just as we say
finished here, Greeting Death
he's yours to take away

Back to the front
you will do what I say, when I say
Back to the front
you will die when I say, you must die
Back to the front
you coward
you servant
you blindman

Barking of machinegun fire, does nothing to me now
sounding of the clock that ticks, get used to it somehow
More a man, more stripes you {WEAR}, glory seeker trends
bodies fill the fields I see
the slaughter never ends

Why, Am I dying?
Kill, have no fear
Lie, live off lying
Hell, Hell is here

I was born for dying

Life planned out before my birth, nothing could I say
had no chance to see myself, molded day by day
Looking back I realize, nothing have I done
left to die with only friend
Alone I clench my gun

Back to the front!*

-Disposable Heroes (Metallica)

***************************

Chapter Three: The Avatar

Hermione couldn’t hear Molly, Arthur and Remus as they argued back and forth. All she could hear
was the rushing sound of water that filled her ears and she prayed to whatever Gods that were
listening – that the waves would crash through the kitchen door of The Burrow and wash her
away.

It had been two days since they had encountered the new Dark Lord at Grimmuald Place, two days
since she could remember any sense of normalcy or contentment.

Forty-Eight hours and some odd minutes since she and Ron had discovered that their best friend,
one Harry James Potter – Savior of the Wizarding World, was not dead. He was just no longer
*Harry*; the jagged blade twisted inside her once more and she could feel the tears begin to
well up in her eyes…again.

She hadn’t cried this much since the night Harry died – or at least the night he disappeared
from their lives…believed to be dead. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and she knew that Ron
was trying to offer some sort of comfort and she knew he meant well and all…but she also knew deep
down within what was left of her shattered heart, that she would never know comfort again.

*Her Harry*…with the entrancing emerald eyes and infectious laughter was gone; replaced by
a maniacal and evilly twisted Dark Lord. Who by all appearances was more powerful than any Dark
Lord that came before him. The way the magic swirled around him was not only impossible by wizard
standards but also defied the laws of physics which even the forces of magic had to obey.

“What’s going on?” A timid voice came from the doorway to the sitting room behind Hermione.

Ginny…if there was one person who had been nearly as devastated by the loss of Harry as Hermione
was – it was Ginny. Even though they had not repaired their fractured relationship after sixth
year, she knew that the young woman had always kept alive some kind of hope that Harry would return
to her after defeating Voldemort, but with his death that dream shattered and she entered a state
of despair and depression that was only exceeded by Hermione’s.

The two witches had bonded in a strange sort of way after his passing – telling each other
everything of their times with Boy Who Lived – hoping in some way to keep his memory alive and with
them. Hermione had even admitted to Ginny that at the moment just before Harry died, she realized
that she was deeply in love with him.

After that the two girls had become close friends – but right now, at this moment, Hermione
dreaded what the news of Harry’s return would do to Ginny…feared that if there was anything left of
the *real* Harry inside that husk of evil and darkness; that Ginny could very well be the one
to pull him out of it.

Rather then dwell on how that would make her feel, Hermione turned to the window and watched as
the storm raged outside; hard rain pelted at the glass and the wind nearly picked up the ancient
trees up by their roots and blew them away.

A small hand was on her shoulder and then, “Hermione.”

“Ginny – I can’t, not yet…” Hermione choked out, forcing back even more tears.

Ginny gently turned Hermione to face her, “You and I need to talk about this, honey…you know
that. The longer we push it away the more it will eat us up inside.”

Hermione nodded miserably, “You don’t think I know that – but you didn’t see his face, Ginny.
You didn’t see how he looked, how he loathed us and hated us with such…Hatred doesn’t even seem to
be a strong enough word to describe it.”

The other adults had stopped their arguing and were now watching the scene between the two
witches with close interest, Ron as well was sitting at the table his hands clenching and
unclenching – wanting to do something…anything expect just sit there.

Ginny stepped closer to her friend, “He could never hate you, Hermione. No matter what you saw –
*I* know that for a fact. *You* know that. Hatred isn’t something that Harry is capable
of.”

Hermione shook her head, “No. Part of me wants to believe that – that there is some part of
*our* Harry left inside that thing…but the other part, the part that witnessed everything that
happened knows that Harry is gone…and it’s that side of me that I don’t want to explore right
now…for right now I just want to go on believing that Harry is safe and with his parents and Sirius
and Dumbledore…safe, because he died protecting us. Because he gave up everything so that we could
have a life of peace…”

Hermione took a breath and opened her mouth to continue when Ron cut her off –

“Oh sod it Hermione!”

Hermione and Ginny turned shocked expressions towards him, but he did not falter.

“There was part of Harry there the other night – I saw, you saw it…bloody hell, even Snape saw
it!”

Ron stood up from the table and slammed his fists down hard, “So stop with this shit! You and
Ginny might be the only ones who have a chance of finding him – the part of him that is buried
inside…because think about it Hermione, if he was truly evil, truly a *Dark Lord –* then he
would have killed us…would have gutted Snape when he had the chance. But he didn’t, did he?”

Hermione shook her head slowly, “No…he didn’t…but why?”

Ron grinned, “There. That is what you should be doing…figuring out *why*.”

Hermione looked to Ginny who nodded, “He’s right…that’s what you do. You figure stuff like this
out.”

Hermione faced the window again, her mind churning, “He said that it was our fault – *my
fault*.”

She faced them again with a gleam in her eyes, “But how is that possible? No…whatever happened
to him – happened after his battle with Voldemort.”

Ron nodded in agreement, “Right – he said that he spent a long time in that nothingness being
tortured with images of *you* Hermione.”

Remus made a strange coughing sound behind his hand.

Ginny frowned, “With images of Hermione? Why was she used against him, and by whom?”

Hermione sat down heavily in a chair, “I’m not sure – but for whatever reason, it seemed to have
been the catalyst to cause this change in Harry.”

Silence ensued around the kitchen for what seemed like forever as everyone tried to understand
what was being said.

“Did you see his eyes?” Ron spoke suddenly. “They were - empty for most of the time. But then,
for a moment or two…at least twice there was *something* there.”

Hermione sighed irritably, “Yes Ron - I saw his eyes. They were glowing! I saw his evil grin! I
saw his bloody sca…”

Hermione suddenly trailed off, her mind reeling. Immediately she thought back to two days ago –
pictured in her mind the scene when Harry pulled back the hood of his cloak and revealed himself
completely to her and Ron and Snape. She remembered his green eyes glowing with the power of the
dark magic and the evil malicious grin but…but there was no scar.

“There was no scar…” She whispered and the others leaned in close to hear what she was saying,
“His scar was gone…it was gone.”

Ron looked confused, “What? How? It was there the night he fought You-Know-Who. Why would it be
gone now?”

Hermione looked thoughtful, “I think because…” She suddenly looked sharply at Ron, “You were
right! Harry *is* inside there somewhere!”

Ron gave her a strange look, “I was right?”

Hermione ignored him and continued on, “We all know that Harry’s scar was his link to Voldemort.
We also know that no matter how much Harry tried, he could never cover it up; even Dumbledore said
that is was the result of powerful dark magic and could not be removed or covered.”

The young witch stood up and began pacing in front of the window, “But what you all may not know
is that Harry – never wanted to get rid of the scar, not really. He once told me that it was part
of him and even though it was as famous as he was it did not define him, but he defined it.”

Ron nodded absently, “I seem to remember him saying something like that to me once…”

Hermione stopped her pacing and dragged her hands through her long hair, “So why now? Why after
all these years…after coming back from death, why remove it? Or cover it up?”

“If you are going where I think you are Hermione,” Remus said as a knowing smile took shape on
his rugged face, “Then it is safe to assume that under no circumstances would *our* Harry
remove or cover the scar. Something or someone else would have had to do that and they would have
had to do it for a reason.”

A confused Ron fidgeted in his chair, “But what does this have to do with the *scar*!?”

Hermione flashed him an indignant look, “Think about it Ron…the scar was something that Harry
would never get rid of willingly – ever. Yet here and now it is gone and Harry is acting not
exactly like himself.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “That part I understand Hermione – what I don’t understand is why it would
be gone? We can assume that someone has control of Harry and that’s the reason it’s no longer there
on his head – but *why*? What is so special about the scar that it would *need* to be
removed?”

Hermione wanted to respond, she really did…but unfortunately she had nothing. No reason to give
Ron that would be logically feasible, or even theoretically feasible.

She finally just settled for, “I don’t know Ron.”

Her best friend raised an eyebrow at her, “Well – I wasn’t expecting that…”

An image of an unusual pensive flashed before Hermione’s eyes, “But I think I know who
might!”

Ron sat up straighter in his chair, “Who?!”

Hermione ignored him as she jumped up from her chair and dashed to the fireplace; grabbing some
powder from the mantle she tossed into the flickering flames and shouted –

“Minerva McGonagall!”

The others gathered around Hermione as she crouched down; after a few moments of silence the
Hogwarts Headmistress’ head appeared in the fire.

“What is it Miss Granger?” she asked. Her hair was for once – down and it made her look a good
decade younger than she actually was.

“Professor – we need to speak with Professor Dumbledore again – it’s about Harry.”

The Headmistress frowned at her, “About Harry…Miss Granger I am not entirely sure that is
something the pensive can answer.”

Hermione shook her head dismissively, “I think you might be mistaken Professor – I am almost
positive that the pensive will know the answers to every question I have.”

McGonagall fixed her with a stern look, “Mistaken…how can you be so sure Miss Granger?”

Hermione chewed at her bottom lips a moment before answering, “Because I think Professor
Dumbledore didn’t tell us everything he knew about the new Dark Lord.”

A sympathetic look flashed across the Headmistress’ face, “My dear – I know that the news of our
dear Harry returning as the new Dark Lord is most – “

Hermione cut her off with an impatient wave of her hand, “Please Professor – I am sure that I am
right about this. We need to speak with him.”

The Headmistress appeared a little annoyed that she had been interrupted and she opened her
mouth to reply when her attention was suddenly drawn away from the fire by something or someone
behind her.

After a few seconds of listening to whatever was happening on her side of the fire, McGonagall
returned her attention back to Hermione and with a brisk nod she agreed to the request. “Very well,
Miss Granger – it would appear that Albus’ portrait agrees with you.”

Hermione smiled, “Thank you Professor – a few of us will be arriving there shortly.”

McGonagall nodded, “I will lower the wards to allow you to travel here by floo – I shall see you
soon Miss Granger.”

***********************

Nearly thirty minutes later; Hermione, Ron, Remus, Ginny and Arthur Weasley arrived in the
Headmistress office.

Hermione’s eyes wandered around the large space until she noticed the Headmistress staring out
the front window watching the storm rage outside.

“I have never seen a storm quite like this one…” She said quietly, “The wind never lets up – not
for a second, while the rain hasn’t paused since it started more than two days ago…odd.”

Hermione shuddered at the hidden implications of the Headmistress’ words and tried not to think
what it could all mean for them. Of course, Minerva McGonagall was never one to mince her
words.

She turned to face her guests with a troubled expression, “I can only assume that this weather
has something to do with Mr. Potter and his recent return to the land of the living.”

“That’s assuming that Harry was ever dead at all, Professor.” Hermione said. “We don’t know for
sure what happened to him that night last year; Ron and I saw him vanish along with Voldemort but
who’s to say that he actually died?”

“You would be correct in your assumption, Hermione.” The sudden voice startled all but the
current Headmistress of Hogwarts.

The enchanted pensive of the greatest wizard of the modern age sat once again on the
Headmistress’ desk and Hermione is surprised that she didn’t notice it the as soon as they had come
through the fireplace.

“Professor…” Hermione said nervously – speaking with the pensive version of her one time mentor
was still as unnerving as it had been the first time around.

The old wizard chuckled, “Please now…I would think that we have gotten past that stage Hermione;
call me Albus – I am no longer your Headmaster, so such formalities are no longer required.”

Hermione blushed, “Right – sorry. Sir…err I mean Albus, I was hoping that we could speak to you
so that we might get some insight into what is going on with Harry.”

Dumbledore frowned, “I had been expecting this Hermione…but why do you think that I have any new
answers for you?

“Because…“ Hermione paused a moment, trying to form the proper words without insulting the
ancient wizard, “Because I think that you were not entirely truthful when you told us that you
didn’t know who the new Dark Lord was.”

“Ahh, I see.” The ghostly representation of the wizened wizard paced for a moment over the desk
top, his form hovering just inches above it. “You would be only partly correct Hermione – I didn’t
know for certain that Harry would return to us as the new Dark Lord, but and I stress this – I did
have my assumptions.”

Hermione took a few steps closer to the pensive, “Do you know that Harry no longer has his
scar?”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened in surprise, “No longer…are you certain Hermione?”

The young witch nodded, “Absolutely. Ron and I both saw that he had no scar on his
forehead.”

Dumbledore fiddled with his long beard and frowned, “Most disturbing indeed…of course normally
such an act would be impossible, because that scar was placed upon Harry’s forehead by the most
powerful of dark magiks. It could not be undone, and only something of equal or greater power would
have even attempted to remove it.”

“Couldn’t it just be covered up then? I mean it would be easier then say removing it completely
right?” Ron asked as he sat heavily in one of the plush chairs in front of the desk.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, “True Mr. Weasley – however, it would serve no purpose to cover
it up…it would not have the same effect.”

Remus cleared his throat, “Albus – what purpose would it server to remove the scar?”

Hermione nodded in agreement, “Yes – why even remove it? What’s so special about the scar? You
said yourself that it couldn’t be removed.”

Dumbledore sighed deeply, “The scar was so many things for Harry – the night Voldemort attacked
him and his parents…Riddle was looking to create another Horcruxes from Harry’s death. His idea was
that the death of such an innocent soul, one that had been destined to destroy him, would create
the most powerful of magic relics…the last Horcruxes…and in part – Riddle was correct.”

Hermione sat down next to Ron with a heavy sigh, “In part…last Horcruxes, but Sir, Harry
destroyed the last one before we challenged Voldemort at Godric’s Hollow.”

Dumbledore look at her sadly, “I see that he never told you…I suppose he had his reasons, but
still you should have known all the same.”

“Known what?” Hermione whimpered miserably as memories of the moments before that last battle
flashed through her mind.

The old wizard’s shoulders slumped considerably; as if a great burden had been lifted from him.
“That Harry…was the last Horcruxes.”

Hermione covered hands covered her face, “No…”

Ron face had gone ghostly white as his mouth opened and closed a few times, “He – he never told
us! Why didn’t he tell us!?”

Ginny, who had mostly gone unnoticed until that moment, let out a terrible sob has her father
placed an arm over her shoulders in comfort and Remus slumped back against the nearest wall his
eyes misting over.

“Damn foolish boy…” Remus muttered, “He didn’t have to face this alone.”

“Unfortunately, Remus…” Dumbledore began somberly, “He did…in the end it was always going to be
Harry and Riddle – there was no other way.”

“To hell with that – *Albus*!” Hermione screeched as she jumped to her feet. “Ron and I
were there with him every step of the way…we could have found some other way for Harry to defeat
him – he didn’t have to do it like that, he didn’t have to leave…us!”

McGonagall had taken a few steps towards the young witch but a raised hand from her predecessor
halted her course, “There was no other way Hermione – Harry was the Chosen One, he was born with
gifts that at the time you could not and would not understand.”

Hermione fumed, “I don’t believe that! There must have been some other way.”

Dumbledore began to pace once again, appearing agitated. “You don’t think I tried to find some
other way? That every night after all of Hogwarts had drifted into slumber that I stayed
awake…unable to rest for a moment; praying and hoping against hope that I might find some other
alternative, to make it possible for it not to end the way it did?”

The old Headmaster stopped his pacing and faced Hermione directly, “I loved that boy like he was
my own…I worried that I would not be there to help him, to guide him through this terrible burden.
I just - I never had enough time…I see that now, I couldn’t dare deviate from the plan, I did what
had to be done, but I am not proud of it, if I could take it all back…I would.”

Hermione stared at the old wizard not sure how to take his words, “But you weren’t there…at the
end you weren’t there.”

Dumbledore nodded sadly, “I know…but you must know that I never wanted this for Harry…I wanted
him to enjoy his childhood, to grow up and fall in love and someday have the family that was denied
to him.”

Hermione suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for the man who had sacrificed
everything just so that Harry might have a chance of achieving victory, “It wasn’t your fault
Albus…”

Dumbledore laughed bitterly, “Oh but you see it partly is – I knew what could happen once Harry
defeated Riddle…but I said nothing, I didn’t even warm him of the possibility.”

“Warn him of what Professor?” Ron asked from the chair next to Hermione.

Dumbledore looked at the younger wizard as if he had forgotten there were others present in the
office, and Hermione quietly agreed; she had completely forgotten that Ron and the others were
there.

“Warn him that if he killed Riddle, if he defeated him…that he could very well take his place.”
Dumbledore said through gritted teeth, “That in the place between life and death – between Heaven
and Hell lays an evil so dark and so immoral that it could corrupt even Harry’s pure soul and turn
him into that which he fought so hard to destroy.”

Remus was suddenly beside Hermione; his hands perched tightly on the desktop, “What evil
Albus?”

“The Avatar.”

Hermione frowned, “That…Avatar?” Her mind turned, trying to recall anything from the thousands
of books she had read over the years about dark magic and Dark Lords.

As if sensing her train of thought Dumbledore waved his hand, “You would not have heard of it
Hermione.”

“What is it?” Remus asked roughly, his hands had begun to put a terrible strain on the edge of
the desk with his supernatural werewolf strength.

Dumbledore sighed tiredly, “Simply put Remus – the Avatar of Evil. Known to those who have dared
study it further as Belial; a demon that is rumored to have come to this reality at the same time
as Merlin.”

“And this Avatar…took Harry and turned him into the new Dark Lord?” Hermione asked as her brain
still tried to grasp the idea of such an incredible concept, “Why would it do that? Why not just
resurrect Voldemort? Why turn Harry evil or remove his scar?”

“Because for one; Belial cannot raise the dead. Harry destroyed Riddle completely, he is dead
and gone.” Dumbledore said, “And second…the scar, because without the scar Harry is easier to
control…the scar served not only as a link to Riddle, but as a focusing point for Harry’s power.
Without that point of focus, Harry’s mind was easy to overcome…”

Hermione gave the former Headmaster a confused look, “What? How can his scar, which was given to
him *by Voldemort*, be used as anything other than what it was?”

“Harry was and is so much more than you know Hermione.” Dumbledore whispered quietly. “So much
more…”

Hermione pulled at her hair in frustration, “But why? What kind of world is this that Harry’s
saved? Why would he do everything, give up everything – including his life just to be turned into
*this* by some faceless monster? What does that say about Fate and Destiny? About sacrifice?
It’s like he was just some disposable hero – that once his mission was completed he no longer
mattered! But what about those he left behind…those that *loved* him?”

“Harry was the greatest wizard I ever knew…and he was my friend – my brother even!” Ron said
loudly. “To imagine what this thing had to do to him in order for Harry to turn against us…”

Dumbledore frowned, “That is Belial’s calling…he craves the suffering of souls…he wants and
needs revenge for his imprisonment…for it was Merlin that banished him from this world and into the
*nothing* between life and death.”

Ron raised his arms in agitation, “What does that have to do with Harry?”

He didn’t notice that Hermione’s face had paled considerably nor did he hear her mumble quietly,
“No…please no.”

Dumbledore sighed in resignation, “If the one responsible for your imprisonment is no longer
alive to take revenge upon, the next best course of action would be to enact that revenge upon the
last of his descendants.”

To Be Continued….

Next chapter Harry finally comes home and we see the return of a snobby, bleach-headed
blonde…



5. Chapter Four: Shades of Gray
-------------------------------

A/N: Jo Rowling owns this stuff – not me. I got no money, so don’t bother looking me up.




*Good and Evil are choices*

*They are Shades of Gray*

*There isn't one without the other*

*So it's inevitable that at some point in life*

*We will be forced to choose both.*




-George Lucas

Chapter Four: Shades of Gray

*******************************

“Merlin’s descendant…that’s wicked, don’t you think Hermione?” Ron asked after the small group
had come through the Burrow’s fireplace after meeting with Dumbledore’s pensive and headmistress
McGonagall.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, “It certainly explains a lot.”

Remus sat down heavily in a chair at the kitchen table, “I agree – it certainly explains how he
was able to produce a corporeal Patronus at the age of 13…something which I might add that not even
Dumbledore was able to do at the same age.”

Ron raised an eyebrow at him, “How do you know that?”

Remus chuckled, “Because when I told Albus of how Harry’s tutoring was going in your third year
he was very impressed and mentioned that it would not surprise him if Harry pulled off a full
Patronus before the year was out. He also added that he hadn’t been able to do it until he was in
his fifth year…which is still extremely impressive.”

Hermione sat down at the table across from Ron, “I just wish Professor Dumbledore could have
given us more insight into Belial…it would help us in saving Harry. I mean I can’t believe we have
never even heard of this Avatar before now.”

Ginny took a seat next to her, “Guess we can’t go looking through any books to find the
answers.”

Hermione nodded absently and rose from her chair, slowly she walked over to the window, “Still,
if there is a way to help Harry – we have to find it. He needs us and I will not let him down – not
again.”

The others stared at her in shock and Ron opened his mouth -

Then Molly walked into the kitchen and started pulling a few fixings out of the icebox, “How
about some sandwiches? Maybe if you all get some food in you it will help you come up with
something. Fully belly – clear minds and all that.”

Arthur smiled at his wife, “Sounds like a marvelous idea, love.”

Hermione tuned the married couple out as she continued to stare out the window; feeling
exhausted from the days revelations and desperate for a way to save Harry. Her eyes roamed over the
darkened field that surrounded the Burrow, most of it obscured by the pouring rain that had not
ceased when she caught sight of a figure standing under the giant oak tree. For a moment she
couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as through the pouring rain and pitch blackness of the night she
saw a twin flash of green.

*Harry…Is that you?*

Then she caught sight of nearly a dozen cloaked figures gathered outside the protective wards
and her blood froze.

*No! Not now!*

“Hermione,” Ron said, “Are you alright?”

She spun around quickly, her wand suddenly in her hand, “Death Eaters – outside!”

For a moment, no sound was made or heard.

Hermione turned back to the window and noticed that the shape under the oak tree was no longer
there. *Where did you go Harry? Did you bring them here?*

Ron looked at the others gathered in the kitchen and then outside at the Death Eaters that were
starting to surround the Burrow.

“I think I have a plan…” He said.

The others gathered around him as Ron explained his plan.

*************************

He watched from a distance as the cloaked figures gathered around the Weasley homestead;
something within urging him not to interfere; not to prevent this from happening - that terrible
piece of himself that now ruled his every waking moment.

Harry Potter felt the air shimmer with magic when his former friends had arrived back earlier
that evening and he had also felt that arrival of the cloaked Death Eaters as they had apparated
just outside the magical wards that protected the Burrow not more than five minutes ago.

He turned his head slightly to see through the kitchen window and saw Hermione talking very fast
about something as the others listened intently, they would never know what was coming…that death
was coming for them. They wouldn’t stand a chance against more than a dozen Death Eaters…followers
of a weak foolish wizard with backwards ideals.

Even though Harry was aware that the current rank of Death Eaters that were right now discussing
the final plans of their attack; included a traitor to their cause, it would not be enough to allow
those inside the Burrow to survive the night. The small part of himself that still cowered behind
the cupboard door within his soul begged and pleaded to help them, to save them.

*They deserve this…They deserted you…They betrayed you…*

The voice again – twisting and gnawing at his insides until he couldn’t tune it out any longer;
telling him things he already knew but didn’t want to believe…not about them and not about her.

*You are beyond them…More then them…You are the Chosen One…My Chosen One…*

The war was raging inside again – deep within himself he could feel the beast ripping and
tearing at the little boy behind the cupboard door and he knew without a doubt that the little boy
he used to be, one so full of love and compassion would soon be gone - destroyed devoured by the
*thing* that he had become.

Gritting his teeth, Harry pushed those thoughts away; the voice was right – he was better then
all of them, more than they could ever dream of becoming. If they were to die this night then so be
it.

Then she appeared in the window; her heart shaped face showing signs of desperation and
exhaustion and her hair was up in a messy pony-tail. Her eyes scanned the area and for a heartbeat
she stopped and just stared at the spot Harry was standing in. There behind the giant oak tree that
he was under, hidden by the darkness of the night and pouring rain.

Harry felt the cupboard door rattle and shake fiercely.

His attention was pulled from Hermione as the Death Eaters began to form a circle around the
Burrow, their wands out and ready to strike. Harry hesitated a moment before deciding that the best
course of action would be to get as close as possible to see how this played out.

*There you go…I knew you wouldn’t let me down.*

Harry cringed at the mocking voice within as he silently watched the lead Death Eater, a man
about his own height, ordered his followers to attack.

The protective wards around the Burrow flashed as every jinx and hex known to wizard-kind burst
against the barrier. The occupants inside the house could be seen running for the windows to get
better positions to fight back against their adversaries.

Remus and Tonks came through the door first, their wands firing off hexes that took down the
first Death Eaters that tried to get in their way. They took cover behind a giant cast iron planter
that Harry knew would provide them with adequate protection against just about any spell.

Ron and Arthur came out next; Arthur had conjured a shield that absorbed a few stunners that
allowed Ron to drop the Death Eater who had cast them with a couple stunners of his own.

Harry felt the breath catch in his throat as Hermione and Ginny came rushing through the door;
Hermione fired of a particularly wicked hex that sent one Death Eater flying backwards and out of
the fight, while Ginny got off a stunner that winged one Death Eater only to be hit with one
herself. She was picked up off her feet and slammed hard into the wall behind directly behind
her.

Ron, leaving his cover, dashed back to them as Hermione tried to haul Ginny to her feet and back
into the house. Ron reached them just as a hex hit him squarely in the back, and he was sent
sprawling forward into the house as Hermione screamed his name.

Arthur, having witnessed both his son and daughter fall, became enraged and started firing off
hexes left and right. Harry was quietly impressed with his spell casting ability as three Death
Eaters fell to his anguish; then the lead Death Eater waved his wand at Arthur and the older wizard
crumpled to the ground like a discarded rag doll.

The tall Death Eater advanced on the remaining defenders, his wand fired off a nasty spell that
punched a watermelon size hole in the planter that Remus and Tonks were hiding behind, the lovers
scrambled to where Hermione was still struggling to pull Ginny through the doorway; Remus stopped
just long enough to pick the fallen girl up in his arms and dove into the house.

Tonks cast a shield charm that absorbed a few hexes and stood with Hermione at the doorway
trying to hold off the remaining Death Eaters.

Harry knew it would be over soon, they had fought valiantly, but it would make no difference in
the end – they would all die.

Hermione stumbled to the ground as a random spell winged her in the shoulder; Harry took an
unconscious step towards her, his heart in his throat

Again the cupboard door rattled violently, the hinges strained as the pressure from within
exerted itself.

The lead Death Eater fired one final stunner that shattered Tonks’ shield which sent the young
Auror falling backwards over Hermione as the younger witch struggled to her feet.

“Now, now Granger…don’t strain yourself - wouldn’t want to mark that pretty skin up too
much.”

Both Hermione and Harry stared at the lead Death Eater in shock as they recognized the muffled
voice behind the black mask he wore.

“Malfoy?” Hermione muttered in amazement.

The Death Eater slipped his mask off dramatically and revealed Draco Malfoy, “Been awhile
Granger…how have you been?”

His tone was so casual and nonchalant that Hermione barely held back the choked laugh, “Oh you
know…same day, different –“

Draco cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand, “I’m not really caring Mudblood, just
trying to make pleasant conversation before I decide how to kill you.”

His wand was now pointed directly between her eyes, which were staring defiantly up at him, “Go
ahead – just know that after I am gone, your days will be numbered, and I stress days.”

Draco chuckled in amusement, “Oh how the mighty have fallen, look around you Granger – your
friends are all down for the count, and they will soon be joining you in death. Oh – and let’s not
forget that Scarhead isn’t here to save your ass anymore.”

Hermione flinched, “Malfoy – you’re making a huge mistake. You don’t want to do this.”

Draco appeared to give it some thought before he smirked down at her, “Oh, yes I really do. I
have been waiting for this moment for a long time…it will start with you and then it will end only
when I become the new Dark Lord, this world is in need of a strong leader, and I am perfect for the
job.”

Hermione didn’t bother to hold her laughter her in this time around, “The new Dark Lord? You
can’t be serious! You’re an idiot – you surround yourself with idiots. Any government that you
create and lead will no doubt crumble and fall because you are in *idiot*!”

Harry could hear Remus swearing and yelling curses at a Death Eater inside the house, he could
see Ron as the young man began to stir on the floor just inside the doorway, but Tonks and Arthur
were still unconscious and would not be able to help Hermione.

An uncomfortable sensation filled the pit of Harry’s stomach as the hinges on the cupboard door
were shattered and a bright blue light filled his mind – the little boy within came rushing out,
filling Harry with something unexplainable, yet familiar.

*Save her! Help her! Don’t let her die! Save her!*

*No! Ignore it! Let her die! She deserves it!*

*NOO! Help her! We love her! Save her! Now! Save her now! Go!*

Harry’s heart soared as for just one moment – he was free…his eyes misted over in rage and
before he knew it, he had apparated down the hill and now stood between Hermione and Malfoy.

****************************

Blue tendrils of mystical fire reached out from Harry, which forced Malfoy and those Death
Eaters that were closest to him to back away form Hermione and the unconscious forms of Arthur and
Tonks.

“Touch her, *ferret*.” Harry said wickedly, “And you will know that there are worse things
then death.”

Malfoy nearly dropped his wand in shock, “Potter?”

The mystical fire that surrounded Harry…extended outwards towards Hermione and the young watched
in silent amazement as the flames surrounded her in a mystical cocoon that she knew would protect
her from any spells that the Death Eaters directed at her.

“This- this isn’t possible! You were dead!” Malfoy said.

Harry smirked, “I got bored....”

Hermione gasped, “Harry!”

“Not now Hermione.” Harry said through clenched teeth. “I am giving you one chance, Malfoy –
leave this place and never return or…or you’ll find out what I did to Riddle…*first
hand*.”

Harry’s eyes flashed an ominous green as if to emphasize his point and Malfoy took another step
back.

“To hell with this – he is just one man!” A young Death Eater yelled as he raised his wand at
Hermione and shouted the incantation for the Killing Curse. “*Avada Kedavra!*”

“No, you idiot!” Draco shouted.

Ron had finally regained consciousness to wake-up to the familiar scene of the eerie green light
of the Killing Curse being hurtled at Hermione and knowing that he was in no position to help
her…again.

The green streak of death shot like a missile towards Hermione and the young witch didn’t even
have time to gather her breath for a scream when a hand shot out in front of her and seemed to grab
the spell out of midair. She looked up to Harry as his fist closed around the green ball of light
and saw his face harden in anger.

“Bloody hell…” Ron muttered.

“That’s impossible.” Malfoy said; his eyes wide in disbelief.

Harry brought his closed fist up and squeezed…the green light seemed to flicker between his
fingers, then died out as if it were never there. “Like I said…there are worse things then
death.”

Faster than anyone thought possible, Harry extended his right arm and a burst of blue magic
flared out from his hand and struck the Death Eater who had cast the Killing Curse dead center,
ripping through his protective cloak and tearing into his skin as if it were nothing more than
tissue paper.

Blood rushed up through the Death Eater’s throat and sprayed out his mouth as he tried to scream
in agony; his eyes rolled up and he fell over, then his chest slowly began to cave in on itself.
The other Death Eaters scrambled away then, Malfoy right behind them. They disappeared into the
night and the faint sounds of apparating could be heard moments later.

Hermione winced as she watched the bloody Death Eater convulsed on the wet ground and grab at
his chest attempting to attempting to understand what was happening to him and looking for some way
to stop it.

Harry casually walked over towards the fallen Death Eater, “Much worse than death – don’t you
think? This will never end you know? You will never know peace from this agony.”

The young Death Eater looked up at him with frightened eyes and blood flowing from his mouth
begged, “Please!”

Harry considered him for a few moments before finally waving his hand over the Death eater. The
man immediately stopped his tormented screams and ran his hands over his chest…it was as if nothing
had happened, only his burnt cloak and the singed robes underneath showed any signs of the spell
that Harry had struck him with.

The young man looked up at Harry, “Umm…”


Harry glared at him, “Go!”

The Death Eater didn’t need to be told twice and jumped to his feet and ran off into the
darkened fields where he apparated away.

The protective blue flames that surrounded Hermione flickered and died away. Slowly with the
help of Ron she got to her feet and together they looked apprehensively at Harry’s back, who was
now staring at his right hand – the hand which had caught the Killing Curse as if it were a Golden
Snitch.

“Sometimes…” Harry began weakly, “Sometimes I wish that I had never been born.”

He turned to look at his former friends, “Then I wouldn’t know what it is I gave up so you two
could live. Don’t ask me why I did what I did Hermione – I wont have an answer.”

Hermione’s face went red with frustration, “Well I do! It’s because deep down – you’re still
Harry! You still care about us!”

Harry gave them a half smile, “*Care*? Damn it, Hermione! Don’t you get it yet? I
*more* than care about *you*!”

*Shut up! You have wasted too much time here! You must go now!*

“What?” Hermione tried to whisper, but she found that breathing was not something she could do
at the moment.

“Oh no…” Ron moaned as a look of understanding crossed his face. “Oh Harry…I didn’t know…If I
had…”

Harry chuckled quietly, “And that just makes all the hurt fade away…”

*Leave! Now! They still betray you; look at how he holds her!*

*No! Stay! They can help –*

The little boys’ voice was suddenly silenced and within him, Harry heard the cupboard door slam
shut.

He looked at his former best friends then to the others that had gathered in the door behind
them, “I can’t be here – I don’t belong.”

Hermione reached out to him, “No – you do! Please Harry come back to us!”

Harry looked at her sadly, “I have things I must do…Goodbye Hermione.”

And in a flash of blue light, Harry was gone.

To Be Continued….



6. Chapter Five: Deep Down
--------------------------



*You can't hide what you are and no one ever really changes. If you try to**o*
*hard to become something you're not, you will only end* *up* *being something you
hate.* - Anonymous

Chapter Five: Deep Down

*****

*Together they lay in the field adjacent to the Burrow, their hands nearly touching, looking
up at the clouds.*

*“That's the second time I've seen Ron's bum in the clouds…”*

*“Oh Harry…you are impossible, you know that don't you?” Hermione said between her
giggles.*

*Harry grinned at her from his place on the grass, “Only because you made me that way…but
seriously if you look at that cloud the right way, it does look like Ron's bum.”*

*Hermione scoffed and slapped Harry playfully in the arm, “It does not look like Ron's
bum…it's too…wiggly. If anything, I think it looks like* *Umbridge's**.”*

*Harry's eyebrows rose into his hairline, “Been staring at* *Umbridge's*
*ass lately, Hermione?”*

*Hermione squealed, “Oh my God! You did not just say that!”*

*He* *started to laugh but the wind was quickly knocked from his lungs as Hermione landed
on chest and started to tickle* *him mercilessly.* *Her hands running rampant over his
sides and along his chest, she did it all with a wicked gleam in her eyes and a playful grin spread
across her face.*

*“This will teach you, Potter…” Hermione laughed.*

*“No! No, stop - please!” Harry said between roars of laughter. “I take it back!”*

*Hermione had him trapped, her legs were straddling his waist and she had now stopped her
tickle attack and her hands were now on his shoulders holding the young man down.*

*She looked down at him**, worried because Harry had suddenly stopped laughing and was
now looking at her with the strangest expression on his face.*

*“Oy! What the hell are you two doing!?”*

*Harry's expression changed to one of horror, “This is not good…”*

*****

*This is not good…*

Even though he was now so much more than he once was, Harry Potter still needed to breathe, and
at the moment he was finding that usually mundane task somewhat impossible.

Not only was the extreme altitude of the remote Tibetan mountain range putting a strain on his
lungs - but the enraged twelve-foot Yeti wasn't helping much either, as it was holding him by
the throat three feet off the ground.

Harry didn't want to harm the creature unnecessarily, and how the voice had ridiculed and
insulted him for that decision and the Yeti wasn't helping matters by trying to choke the life
out of the recently resurrected wizard.

The voice *had* warned him that the crypt was being guarded by some natural defender - one
that was nearly invulnerable to all but the strongest magic. To Harry's knowledge, he possessed
the strongest magic in the world, but that was beside the point. All that mattered was getting the
staff that the voice needed, and he knew better than to disappoint the voice. Of course there was
the small part of getting past the Yeti in order to *get* the staff.

Suddenly, the Yeti shook Harry violently and growled something incomprehensible at him as its
grip on Harry's throat tightened and for a second the wizard thought his head might pop clean
off.

*Enough of this! You have the power - destroy it*.

With a twinge of regret, Harry reluctantly grabbed hold of the Yeti's giant wrist and
twisted with all his strength. Immediately the Yeti howled in pain and jerked away from the
cliff's edge, pulling Harry with it. Once clear of the edge, Harry brought his legs up and
kicked the beast in the chest, which caused the monster to drop him to the rocky, snow covered
ground.

Harry landed on his feet with a grunt and just as the Yeti raised its arms to crush him, Harry
brought his hand up and the blue magic flared to life once more, striking the beast in its massive
chest causing it to stumble backwards, still Harry was holding back.

*Do not play with it boy! It is a mindless beast! Put it down like one!*

Something beyond Harry's control ignited a fire within him, before he could push it back
down, his hands came up together and a great wave of magic shot forth, engulfing the Yeti. The poor
creature screamed in agony, as the blue flames ate away at its flesh and before Harry could even
think of putting it out of its misery, the Yeti collapsed to the ground, its huge form smoldering
and burnt beyond recognition.

*Hermione wouldn't have wanted the Yeti harmed…*

Harry flinched as the cupboard door rattled quietly. He must stop thinking about her; the look
on her face when he saw her last - all those weeks ago at the Burrow, when he rescued her and the
others from the Death Eaters that had suddenly attacked them.

*You must not dwell on th**e past* *boy…it is best left forgotten.*

Harry frowned, “But was it absolutely necessary to kill it?”

*Yes it was! You are not here to be merciful - it's best you remember that!*

“Right,” Harry whispered.

*Remember who you are…*

The wizard looked toward the secluded cave that held the staff he had been seeking, “I am the
Dark Lord.”

*Good…now, retrieve* *my staff.*

*****

Ron Weasley hated the library; he's always hated it - the Restricted Section wasn't his
favorite place either, when he, Harry and Hermione had been here last it was to do research on the
Horcruxes before the final showdown with Voldemort.

Looking over at his long time friend, and occasional girlfriend, he cringed - because the look
on her face was one that he knew all too well. Ron was a simple man - he knew a little about a lot
of things, but the one thing he knew above all others, was that when Hermione Granger had
*that* look on her face, it was best to stay the hell out of her way.

The young witch looked up at the red head through narrowed eyes, “Move Ron.”

With a resigned shake of his head Ron stood aside, “Fine, but don't say I didn't warn
you Hermione, if you go this route it will only end in heartbreak. - again.”

Hermione groaned in frustration, “Damn it Ron, I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry I never told
you about…about how I felt about Harry. But you really need to get past this Ron; we have to get
him back.”

Ron gaped at her, “Get him back!? Hermione, he's the bloody *Dark Lord* - he didn't
stick around long enough after he-“

“Saved me!” Hermione roared in anger, “That's right Ron, he saved me! Protected me!
Protected all of us, he *saved* all of us! With his hand he *caught* the damn Killing
Curse. He caught it Ron, before it could kill me! That is *not* the work of a Dark Lord! The
*real* Harry is somewhere deep down, under all that darkness- and for just a few moments
yesterday he let us see him, and I for one am not going to let him go - not again!”

The red-haired wizard stumbled back in shock and nearly fell over a cart of books.

Hermione's hands were clenched tight and she was trembling in rage, “Now, for just a few
moments - please get over yourself. I know it's hard to hear Ron, and I am sorry that it hurts
you…but I *love* Harry. I am *in love* with him…and nothing you say or do will ever
change that.”

Ron leaned back against the book cart, dumbstruck. He hadn't expected her to admit it, he
always suspected of course that she had some feelings for Harry, but to find out that she was truly
in love with him…he just hadn't expected that.

“You- you're in love with him?” He whispered after a moment. “But what about us? I…I just
always figured that we would you know, give it another go.”

Hermione sighed, “Another go…Ron, I love you dearly. I do - but Harry…I can't breathe
without him - it hurts to even try. I thought I could let him go, move on…but I was only fooling
myself.”

Ron paled, “You used me? How could you?”

“No, no Ron. I didn't use you.” Hermione took a step closer to her friend, “I love you I
swear I do - but it's not the same kind of love. I cherish you Ron, you are my best friend, and
if it hadn't been for you this past year, I wouldn't have made it. You kept me going.”

Ron nodded, “Right…not the same kind. So - you aren't in love with me, but with Harry?”

Hermione nodded as her eyes filled with tears, “Yes…I'm so sorry Ron…”

The red-haired wizard cleared his throat a few times before speaking again, “Well then…I guess
we get a move on and try to help Harry. Where should we start?”

“We uhh…we need to find out why Harry needed that scroll from Grimmuald Place.” She said, “I
think we might have overlooked its importance.”

Ron nodded in agreement, “I think you may be right - so we just tear through the Restricted
Section and try to find anything at all on Belial?”

Hermione shook her head, “No…I think we should look up everything that they don't want us to
know regarding Merlin.”

Ron's face split in a wide grin, “Damn you're scary.”

*****

Irony or just bad karma, Harry wasn't sure what to call what he was experiencing at the
moment. He hadn't planned to see *them* of all people at the National Historic Museum, not
at all. Of course they were Muggles and Muggle London was that most likely of places to run into
them. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was here…perhaps hoping to find some
shelter from the voice that continued to haunt and torment him…but he hadn't been to this place
since…since Hermione had dragged him to it the summer before their seventh year at Hogwarts.

He would always remember the look of wonder and amazement as she studied every piece of artwork
that museum had to offer. Harry found himself in awe of her that day; more so than any other before
it, not because she was such a giant brain, but because even through the excitement of seeing all
this history she found the time to look at him and smile…a smile that nearly melted him with its
warmth.

For a second he nearly smiled, remembering that one pure moment of absolute bliss…

*What have we here? Ahh, the Mudbloods parents.*

Daniel and Emma Granger were standing not a dozen feet from his darkened corner, observing a
rather unusual piece of artwork and whispering to each other as they held hands.

Harry found himself staring at Mrs. Granger, unable to believe how much Hermione resembled her,
from the long brown hair, to the hazel eyes within hidden depths and the tiny nose. Her hair, like
Hermione's showed signs of once being thick and bushy, but as she aged it had become silky and
radiant.

*Killing them…would break the Mudblood.*

Harry growled and fell further back into the shadows, “I am not Riddle…I do not kill helpless
Muggles.”

*Oh - well then…we best be off, you have an appointment at Hogwarts, remember?*

Harry sighed, “I remember…”

*Good…also Harry - it would be best if you tried not to block me out…as you can see I am part
of you now…*

“Right…why do you need the Sword of Gryffindor anyway? I've already gotten you the staff and
the scroll…when are you going to let me in on this grand plan of yours?” Harry asked out loud.

The voice seemed to chuckle inside his head, *All in due time my boy, all in due time. Now, on
to the place you once called home.*

With a frown on his face he took one last look at the Grangers, and then Harry Potter
vanished.

*****

“Hermione, look at this: it says here that in 554 A.D., Merlin engaged in a six day battle with
a demonic being in the skies over Stonehenge.”

Ron turned the giant tomb around and passed it towards the young witch, “It doesn't give the
demons name though, describes it as being twice as tall as a man, colored blacker then night and
horns of a devil on it's head…other than that it just says that after the battle, the demon was
gone and Merlin wasn't seen in Britain for nearly fifty years - which if I remember
correctly…”

Hermione's eyes widened, “Which is about the time that Merlin appeared with King Arthur -
and…”

Ron whispered in awe, “Bloody hell - look at the picture of Arthur and Merlin…right there on
Arthur's hip is Excalibur.”

Hermione gasped, “Excalibur…amazing! It actually existed; I never thought that the legend of the
sword was real.”

Ron made a face at her, “What? Of course it was real. Arthur used it to unite Britain; of course
he had some help from Merlin and his Knights of the Round Table.”

Hermione shook her head, “We are getting off track, let's see what else it says about that
battle.”

Ron pulled another book form his stack and started reading. As Hermione continued to study the
picture of Merlin and Arthur, her gaze transfixed on the mighty sword Arthur wore at his side.

*****

The invisible figure turned away from the library door with a smile on his weathered face.

*He* would be here soon; the figure thought to himself, it was only a matter of time. There
were old scores to settle and *he* above all others had failed the boy the most. Left him
alone to do what had to be done, what needed to be done - no matter the cost, except now the cost
was too high…especially for the boy.

The figure sighed and then nearly laughed out loud at how useless that small gesture seemed now
considering his current condition - there was no reason for him to sigh. He was incapable of
breathing, a fact that even over the last few years he seemed to have forgotten.

Yes, the young man who he had once known so well would be here soon, to finish it all. He
wouldn't have to hide behind a pensive any longer and pretend to be less than what he was - a
ghost.

Only a select few knew that it was only wizards that could return to the world as ghosts after
their passing and only if they had left things undone in their former life, and he had left so much
undone…and unsaid. No, there would be no rest for him until he and the boy met one last time, there
was much that needed to be said…at last.

For now though, the invisible figure, floated soundlessly down the wide and ancient corridors of
Hogwarts, waiting patiently for the time when his student would return, until that time, he hoped
that the others would be able to get through to the boy - help him understand that there is still
hope and that there are still people in this world that love him.

“Soon Harry…” the shade whispered to the empty corridor, “Very soon now.”

To Be Continued…

*****

Next chapter: Homecoming folks! Showdown of sorts for Harry and those left at Hogwarts.

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7. AUTHOR NOTICE
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***Author Notice***

Hello Friends! I know it has been along time since I have last posted anything and I apologize
for that. However, my personal life got a little bit out of control. To make a long story short
here, I will be continuing Between Heaven and Hell. The next chapter will be uploaded by Monday the
3rd. With chapters following about once a week. I do have the next 3 chapters down and
technically ready to go. They just need to be beta'ed. Which hopefully wont take too long.
Well, Time to go for now, got some fleshing out to do on chapter 6 (which is called “Home Is Where
The Hurt Is...) - make of that what you will:).

Also for those that expected an update here, sorry...my bad.

Garet Jax

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