"My Dad used to say 'always fight fire with fire', which is probably why he got thrown out of the fire brigade."
A/N: That's right boys and girls, Prongs_Potter is back and he has brought with him a new and delightful story. First of all, I am assuming that all of you have read Birth of a legend, if not go to my author's page and read it now, I'll pause so I don't give anything away...... OK, that should be long enough, hello to all of you Birth of a legend patrons and thank you for putting up with me and reading my story for seventeen chapters, sadly, you may have to put up with me for a while longer because, if I stick with my plan (and believe me, that's a big if) this one will be twenty two chapters of Harry Potter, Prongs_Potter fun and frolicks.
I won't keep you much longer, as you have probably come onto a Harry Potter fan fiction site to read Harry Potter fan fiction, not to listen to my ramblings (I'm just guessing). I'll just say that this story will be in a similar vain to it's predecessor, with Harry doing battle with his own consious, as well as Voldemort and having to constantly push the line between what is right and what is wrong. But this time, the internal battle is much more present and in your face. Well, that's enough from me, read, review and enjoy.
The beast paused. The rain pelted down upon him as he scanned the horizon, his eyes alert and his nose twitching, aided in his search only by the soft glow of the moonlight which gently cloaked the surface from it’s position high in the heavens, bathing the forest and surrounding grasslands in light. But the beast hated the light. The light was the preserve of the others and the ally of the most hated ones, the vile composite of beast and being who stalked the night beside him and his brethren but who sought only to rip his tribe and his species apart. The beast’s eyes were dim in comparison to the hated ones’, but he could see enough to make out the silvery light of the moon, traitorously revealing him and leaving him exposed to the whim of the enemy and he knew that he had to flee before he felt fangs pierce his neck and his life slowly and painfully ebb away into nothingness.
The beast stopped, his nose in the air and his body rigid with fear and concentration. A scent. Danger. He suddenly whipped his body around, moving with surprising agility, as the mass of fur and muscle jumped in the air and flung itself to one side. But it was too late. All the beast saw was a streak of grey flesh before he felt himself knocked to the ground with incredible force. He jumped quickly back to his feet, giving a ROAR that echoed through the night, and snapped his jaws at the hated one as it grabbed him around the torso and threw him bodily to the ground.
The beast did manage to find skin with his jaws, however, and a chunk of flesh, nerve and sinew was torn from the hated one’s arm, making it hiss in pain before attacking once more. The beast managed to climb to his feet again, but as soon as his paws felt solid ground, he was tackled to the floor and he knew that another had come to the hated one’s aid. He knew that he was dead. The creature of the night held the beast to the ground, as it thrashed against it’s grasp and the other hated one approached. The beast continued to thrash in an attempt to pull himself free, but saw from the corner of his eye as a tall, muscular, grey figure approached. It was humanoid in shape but there was no trace of human warmth in it’s yellow eyes, completely bald, it’s mouth hung open, salivating at the feast he knew was ahead and revealing a set of sharp teeth, with two large fangs in the centre.
Moving slowly, as if savouring the Lycan’s pain and the pleasure of the kill, the Nosferat walked towards it’s prey. Grabbing the lycan’s head it pulled it around so their eyes could meet and the nosferat smiled, disgustingly gaining a perverse pleasure from seeing the pain and fright in the lycan’s eyes as it moved in for the kill. Suddenly it plunged it’s head down to the lycan’s neck and the beast let out a bone chilling howl as the nosferat sunk it’s fangs into it’s jugular and started to drain his blood. Eventually, mercifully, the lycan was claimed by the darkness and sunk into unconsciousness, never to awaken again. The nosferat that had been holding the beast down, released him, as if it felt him pass from this world to the next, and joined it’s brother in the feast. Together the two completely drained the beast of blood, before disappearing once more, into the night, leaving what left of the lycan’s body to be claimed by the birds and beasts of the surrounding forest. And, as they stalked away, a victory had been claimed for the Nosferatu and a Lycan soldier lay, slowly decomposing, on the ground.
All there was was darkness. Darkness and the infernal whispering. Whispering, too faint to hear, but always there, fading in and out, plotting against him. Plotting against his morals. A dark but powerful force within him. Whispering. Always whispering and plotting. Hissing their dark, but unintelligible plans in the darkness. But what was that? That was different. Not the darkness nor the relentless whispering but something new. Consciousness. Pain. A dull ache spread throughout his body as if he had just been beaten up and a groan escaped his lips. And then he heard something, though the fog which seemed to cloud his thoughts prevented him from deciphering the speech into anything as meaningful as language, it seemed desperate. Desperate and familiar. Like family. And he needed to reassure them that he was alright.
With this thought and desire dominant in his mind and with tremendous effort, Harry Potter tore open his eyes. He was met, as ever in these situations, by a painfully bright light which struck him in the retina, forcing his eyelids shut once more.
“Harry?” He heard a voice say. Now that really did sound familiar. “Harry are you alright?”
“I’ve stood up to Voldemort on countless occasions but I’ve now been rendered powerless by a mildly bright light Remus. Perhaps you would be so kind as to turn it down for me.”
Through his eyelids, Harry could see the light being turned down and slowly and carefully, opened his eyes to look into the face of his anxious friend and guardian.
“How do you feel?” Remus asked, looking concerned.
Harry, whose strength was now returning to him, his mind unfogging and recovering from his sustained period of unconsciousness, thought upon this for a second before realising exactly how he felt.
“Hungry.” He replied. “I feel absolutely starving, what’s for breakfast?”
“Well it’s three O’clock in the morning but I reckon I can rustle up something.”
“Great.” Harry responded, pulling himself up from out of the bed, he now recognised, as his own in his and Remus’ house. Noticing that he had some tubes in his arm and some patches connected to his chest and a complicated looking muggle machine, Harry pulled them all off of him, before switching the machine off as it annoyingly bellowed that he was flat lining.
“Harry lay back down, you’ll hurt yourself.” Remus said as Harry started to walk slowly across the room. “I’ll bring your breakfast to you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
“I know your capable but the strain might cause you further injury, you might seven sink back into a coma.”
“You worry too much Remus.” Harry replied.
“You were in a coma.”
“I was in a coma Remus. Was. I am now no longer in a coma so I can go and get some breakfast.”
Remus sighed, knowing that his charge would never back down and seemed to settle with walking alongside him, ready to catch him should he fall and secretly glad that his former student seemed to have retained his energy and stubbornness throughout the ritual and his long sleep.”
“So how long was I out for?” Harry asked as they came to the bottom of the stairs and walked into the kitchen.
“Four days. You know you might have mentioned that you were going through with the ritual, you could have been injured, you could have been killed and no one would have been there.”
“Ginny, Ron and Hermione knew that it had to be done during a full moon and I told Thane.”
“Ron, Hermione and Ginny, if their constent bombardment of letter is anything to go by, didn’t know it was full moon and Thane said that you just told him to meet you in that disused room in Grimmauld place. You didn’t say anything about the ritual, he just went to the room at one O’clock in the morning to find you in deep unconsciousness. You didn’t even mention it to me.”
“You were a snarling, man eating beast of the night at the time, don’t take it so personally,” Harry responded. “Now stop going on Remus, you’re like an old woman. Eggs and bacon please.”
With that, the conversation turned to lighter things as an exasperated Remus gave up and magically cooked a three am breakfast and Harry sat and watched him. And though he didn’t want to turn the conversation to the war when they were talking about pleasant things for a change, as Harry started to eat his bacon, his curiosity got the better of him.
“So have there been any more developments with Voldemort?” He asked, “What condition is he in?”
“I wouldn’t know”, Remus replied, “but I can only assume that he’s been very quiet, because there has only been one Council meeting since you’ve been out and that was about you.”
“Yes, well with both you and Dumbledore unconscious, we were left incredibly vulnerable, should Voldemort have decided to attack so Hogwarts as well as the Order were put on red alert.”
“Red alert?” Harry asked, “You mean our lives have become a cheesy action film?”
“No. I mean that Order members were permanently stationed everywhere that was deemed to have a high risk of Death eater attack.”
“Well, I suppose it‘s nice to feel needed. Tell the men that they can stand down, for Harry Potter saviour of the wizarding world is alive and here to save the day.”
“Very amusing.” The werewolf replied wryly, “But they’ve been there for four days, another hour won’t kill them while I eat a bacon sandwich.”
“That’s the marauder way Moony, if necessary give your life in protection of others, but if it stands in the way of food, they can all go to hell. So, I suppose I should know, what exactly is this ‘Council of the Phoenix’ that I’m supposed to be part of, how exactly is it different from the Order?” Harry asked
“It’s different in that it’s only a small part of the Order. As you saw, there were about two hundred Order members fighting at the Battle for the Rock and even then about twenty five had stayed behind to look after Hogwarts with another seventy five dotted around elsewhere, Diagon Alley for example and the ministry. The council is a group of about fifteen of the most senior and/or trusted Order members, it’s us who make the majority of the decisions concerning the war effort.”
“Wow.” Harry replied. “So I‘m in the exclusive club.”
“If you like. I hate to turn the conversation in this direction Harry but you haven’t said anything about the ritual. Did it work? Do you feel any different?”
“I don’t really feel any different, just very drained. As for if it worked, I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Harry replied, before stretching out the palm of his hand upwards in front of him.
Concentrating on the air directly above his hand, Harry silently thought ‘Incendio’ and tried to force his magic to create a flame in his palm, planning to manipulate it and test out the degree of control he had over the ancient element. But nothing happened. The young wizard grew ever more frustrated as he tried to push more and more magic into the spell, only to see nothing happen, his hand remained empty and, try as he might, he couldn’t feel the small tingle of magical power, usually present at his fingertips.. Panicking slightly, he drew his wand and waved it;
“Incendio!” Not a flame nor a spark appeared at the tip of Harry’s wand and he started to get more and more worried. “Incendio! Incendio! Incendio!”
“What is it Harry?” Remus asked concerned at the look on Harry’s face as well as the lack of activity at the tip of his wand.
“I can’t do magic. My reserves have been drained, I can’t even feel them.” Harry replied, sounding completely desperate and panicky. “Tell me that can’t happen to a wizard Remus. I can’t have lost my power.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing happening Harry” Remus reassured his young charge, feeling anxious himself at the prospect of Harry not having power over his magic, even just temporarily. “It’s more than likely a reaction to the amount of energy needed to go through with the ritual. Your magic is still there, you just don’t have enough magical energy to use it. If your worried, I can set up a meeting with Madam Pomphrey and she will examine your magical core.”
“You can do that?”
“Would I have suggested it if you can’t?”
“I suppose not,” Harry replied, “I would appreciate that Remus, if only to reassure me and maybe give me some idea as to when I’ll be able to use my magic again.”
Somewhat reassured, but still with a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of being without his magic, being so defenceless, Harry finished his breakfast as Remus sent off an owl to Madam Pomphrey to request her services. Just as he was scooping the last scraps of bacon into his mouth, Harry saw Remus walk into the room, looking at him with an expression that was somewhat unfamiliar to him. Almost like fatherly concern.
“OK, you’ve had your middle of the night breakfast Harry, now get back to bed and get some rest. Molly Weasley will kill me if she finds out that I’ve let you up.”
“Surely you could take her Remus?” Harry asked mockingly, smiling at his guardian.
“You’d be surprised Harry. Even Voldemort would think twice about crossing an angry Weasley woman, they can be deadly.”
“Believe me Remus,” Harry began, the youngest Weasley springing to his mind, “ I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Ah yes, Ginny. I’ll have to send her an owl, she’s been inundating me with letters since she found out what you had done. She seemed pretty pissed off that you hadn’t told her mate.”
“I’m dead aren’t I?”
“Yes. Or else you certainly will be if you don’t stop trying to keep me talking and go to bed. It’s like looking after a six year old.” Remus exclaimed, becoming exasperated, if amused, by Harry’s antics.
“No you’re like a six year old.” Harry replied maturely
“Go to bed. It’s almost four in the morning.”
Harry smiled and stood, wishing Remus good night before walking up to stairs to bed. As he lay in the blissful comfort of his bed, Harry, for the first time since the battle felt an emotion that had been so far sadly rare and lacking in his young life, he felt true happiness stir up inside him. Happiness and relief that even after the horrors he had witnessed and been forced to perform, he could still laugh and joke with his guardian and friend. And as this thought came to his mind, a warm, comforting feeling, like a flagon of butterbeer, settled in his stomach as he realised that for the first time, he wasn’t at Hogwarts but he felt like he was home.
His occlumency shields were useless, the voices were from within his own mind and they spoke to him now as he lay alone in the darkness, knowing nought but the whispering. It was all there was, constant and unforgiving, urging him, tempting him, conspiring against him and telling him to go against everything he stood for. And yet, he could not hear what they said, they were, as ever, relentlessly and infuriatingly just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue. And then there was something else. Reality started to push against his little world which knew nothing of it, which knew no rational thought or emotion, nothing but the darkness and the whispering. As lucid thought returned to him, Harry embraced the consciousness and reality that was forcing itself upon him and with all his might tried to awaken, anything to get away from the damned whispering.
And slowly it came to him. He seemed to fall from the unknown and bleak world that he occupied during his sleep and then, suddenly, reality crashed home and his eyes opened.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Came a familiar and stern female voice.
Harry’s head snapped around to the source of the noise as he was shocked by the sound, believing himself to be alone. Upon seeing that he had awakened, Madam Pomfrey had walked to the small table beside Harry’s bed where a number of potions lay and picked one up, bringing it over to him. As Madam Pomfrey handed him the goblet, Harry saw that it was a bright red in colour and giving off light grey wisps of smoke and recoiled slightly at the pungent smell that was emanating from it.
“Here.” The nurse said, “Drink this. It’s only an advanced pepper up potion, it will restore the energy you have lost and heal any minor injuries you have.”
“I’m fine now Madam Pomfrey.” Harry replied, “aren’t you supposed to be checking my magic level?”
“There’ll be time for all that later. And I will decide when you are fine Mr. Potter, you have been in a minor coma for the last four days and no one can recover this quickly, not even you. Now drink up.”
Harry realised that, though Voldemort was a challenge, he would never beat Madam Pomfrey and so, having had plenty of experience of healing potions, he brought the goblet up to his lips and swallowed the potion in one gulp, forcing it down before his taste buds had time to register the foul taste. Harry hadn’t truly realised how lethargic and ill he had felt until the magical liquid began to take effect as it spread throughout his system. He felt the various small, but irritating, aches and pains that had littered his body since the ritual disappear and the energy he had lost returning to him. Watching him carefully and recognising the look of relief and serenity on his face, Madam Promfrey seemed satisfied that the potion had done the job it was meant to do and said;
“OK Mr. Potter, if you feel up to it you may stand and I will carry out the magic revealing test.”
Feeling like a new man, Harry sprung to his feet and watched from the side of his bed as Madam Pomfrey started to wheel over a large, translucent black screen which came to just below his shoulder as she brought it to a halt in front of him. Peering down at it and half expecting to see his own skeleton, Harry was a little disappointed when he was met only by his own body, slightly blurred through the translucentblack screen. Looking up, however, Harry saw that Madam Pomfrey had walked back to the table by the side of his bed and was now returning with a small glass vial filled with a clear, water like potion.
“On my word, Mr. Potter, you are to drink this as I perform the incantation of the magic revealing spell. OK now. Magus Acclaro!”
Harry downed the liquid in one go, before having to shield his eyes as the screen seemingly sprung in to life as a blindingly bright light burst forth from it.
“Finite!” Madam Pomfrey shouted, herself covering her eyes and reeling back slightly, staggered and shocked by the seemingly unexpectedly bright light. The nurse then, slowly, started to recover and walked over to her patient, sitting down on his bed.
“That is quite extraordinary.” She began, “Such power I-. Not even Albus-.” Madam Pomfrey paused and seemed to compose herself. “I think it is fair to say that your power has not been diminished Mr. Potter. The brightness of the light from the magic revealing spell represents the power of the subject and I have never seen anything like what I have seen today; your magic is, I dare say, very much intact. However, the magic is supposed to be centred in one bright spot in the middle of the witch or wizard’s chest and, as I’m sure you noticed, the light of your magic seemed to emanate from the whole screen. Now, Mr. Lupin has told me that you have recently been involved in some sort of magical change or transformation, though I am not privy to all the information, it is my opinion that this has disrupted your magic and made it temporarily unusable as it attempts to realign itself under you power. This often happens when a new magical energy enters a witch or wizard’s body and you should start getting use of your magic back in the next day or two, though be warned, you may well experience bouts of accidental magic and that, with your power, could be very dangerous. Now, I’m leaving you with a number of advanced pepper up potions which you are to take every morning and evening until you regain full use of your magic. In the mean time you are not to overextend yourself. That means no excessive exercise and no quidditch. Now, unless you have any questions, I will now take my leave and return to Hogwarts.”
Harry shook his head to indicate no and Madam Pomfrey left, leaving Harry alone with nought but his own thoughts for company. He was ecstatic that his magic was fully in tact and that he would gain full use of it again in the next few days, but at the same time he was apprehensive about being left defenceless against attack for the next day or two and possibly suffering from occasions of accidental magic. It occurred to him that these two emotions were quite difficult to feel at the same time and it was this thought that dominated his mind as Remus walked in to the room.
“Good to see that you’re up and about Harry, for a second there I thought you’d slipped back into a coma, it’s not like you to sleep for twelve hours.” The werewolf spoke.
“Hey Remus, has Madam Pomfrey told you the news?”
“Yep, good news. You should get your magic back within the next week at the latest.”
“It does, however, leave us with the slight problem. Namely that I am a completely powerless wizard with one of the most powerful dark lords ever to walk the earth searching relentlessly for me so that he can rip me limb from limb.”
“Yes that is a slight problem.” Remus replied sarcastically. “I’ve spread the news that you are awake and instructed one of the Order’s spies to leak the information to Voldemort, in case he somehow found out that you’ve been in a coma. I’m hopeful that Voldemort will be in the same condition as you, but we won’t be revealing that you have lost control over your magic. It’ll be extremely damaging to morale and we can‘t risk Voldemort gaining use of his power before you do and knowing that we‘re vulnerable. I have already called a meeting of the Council for this evening at six to discuss what to do to ensure your and the Order’s protection. So that gives us a couple of hours, what do you want to do?”
“Well I’ve been forbidden from playing quidditch, so…how about a game of quidditch?”
Remus laughed, “I actually wouldn’t put that past you. But instead of messing up your recuperation and potentially killing yourself, how about we play a game of chess?”
“That doesn’t sound nearly as exciting as the recuperation, killing myself thing but, why not?”
The next three hours was spent playing chess and just generally chatting in Harry’s room as the two of them relaxed and joked around. Any thoughts of war and pain and loss were extinguished from their minds as they just drank butterbeer and talked light heartedly, reminiscing about good times and telling anecdotes while Harry lost game after game of chess. Only occasionally would his worries return to him as he caught Remus looking at him concernedly while he took his turn. To someone who had been raised to look after himself, to never show any sign of weakness and expect no sympathy, such fatherly concern was a little strange and, while Harry was pleased to know that someone cared so much about him, it left him feeling a little vulnerable, reminding him that, for the first time in six years, he was truly defenceless.
Eventually, the time for the council meeting came around and Harry’s silent question as to how they were going to get there was answered as Remus lit a fire and offered Harry a small pot of powder.
“A secure floo connection was set up after the battle, connecting Order HQ with council member’s houses. It’s basically so that we always have a way to get to each other, even if our houses are being watched.” Remus answered the question he was about to ask.
One after the other they both stepped into the fireplace as it glowed green and they were magically transported to the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry, as ever, landed with little grace upon arrival from his least favourite method of transport, having closed his eyes against the soot and the endless and nauseating spinning, he fell face first to the ground to be helped to his feet by a laughing Remus. Together, the two of them then walked from the secure floo point in the living room and to the kitchen where the meeting was to take place.
Looking around the room, Harry saw that ten people sat around the kitchen table, talking amiably between themselves as they waited for everyone to arrive and the meeting to begin. He recognised all of them and knew most well and both Harry and Remus were greeted with waves and smiles as they came into the room and sat down. As people chatted lightly, Harry had a chance to see who made up the Council of the Phoenix and, glancing around the room, he saw Professor McGonagall at the head of the table, to the right of her was Mad eye Moody, then Tonks, Remus, and himself. Sitting to his right was Mrs. Weasley, then Mr. Weasley, Bill, Hestia Jones, Aberforth Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. Aberforth Dumbledore was a strange one and, though he recognised him from the old Order photo and knew it not to be true, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that they had met before.
“Is that everyone?” McGonagall spoke, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.
“No, we’re just waiting for Thane.” Remus replied.
“Well he has probably been delayed at the ministry, we’ll get started and he can catch up when he arrives.” McGonagall said, before opening the meeting. “Well as you all know, we’re here to discuss the implications of Mr. Potter’s temporary loss of control over his magic and what should be done about it to ensure his and our protection as well as the protection of the wizarding and muggle worlds. As I have little experience in the field of protection and defence I will hand over to Alistair to start us off.”
“With Dumbledore in a coma and Potter without magical power, the order is left in a very vulnerable position and open to attack, assuming Voldemort hasn’t experienced the same loss of power.” Moody began.
“Surely if Potter has lost control of his magic as a result of the ritual, you know who will have also.” The minister of magic interrupted.
“That is likely but we cannot afford to make such estimations, we have to assume the worst until it is confirmed otherwise”, Moody growled in response, seemingly irritated by the interruption, even if it was from the minister herself. “Now first thing’s first, no one in this room is to allow this information to go any further. No one outside the Council is to know of Potter’s loss of power, should the pretence of normality be up kept, there is no reason why an attack should take place in the next few days but we can‘t afford such potentially dangerous information to fall into Voldemort’s hands. Now, as this is the case, we can’t afford to put the Order on red alert as this will seem suspicious. I propose that the members of the council take turns to guard Hogwarts and Order HQ and the rest of us should keep alert so that if the call comes through, we can react quickly and mobilise the rest of the Order to protect against any attack. Are we in agreement?”
There was a general mumbling of acceptance and Harry agreed that Moody’s plan was a good one.
“Good.” He said. “Any objections?”
No one moved or spoke and so he continued.
“OK so now all there is left to decide is who-.”
Moody did not finish the sentence, however, as, at that moment, a figure came bursting into the room, to be confronted with twelve wands as the council turned to face the possible threat. Harry too drew his wand, reacting instinctively and momentarily forgetting about the loss of control over his magic. He relaxed, however, as the rest of the Council redirected their wands, seemingly recognising the tall, young man who now stood at the door, panting slightly and looking a little the worse for wear.
“What is it Katona?” Moody asked, concern discernible in his tone of voice for the first time Harry could remember. This in itself made Harry a little nervous and what Katona said in reply confirmed his worst fears.
“Commander Harding’s house is under Death eater attack sir.” The soldier replied.
The Council sprung to their feet, their wands in their hands and Moody started barking out orders.
“Katona, go back to the scene, Lupin alert the rest of the Order, Potter you stay here, the rest of you come with me to Harding’s.”
Upon these orders, the Council ran outside of the kitchen and, clearing the apparation wards, disappeared to Thane’s. All of them, that is, except Remus and Harry, the former of whom stood adjusting his watch, while the latter watched curiously.
“What are you doing?” He asked the werewolf.
“I’m putting out a call to the Order to alert them to the attack on Thane’s.” Remus replied, holding up his watch to reveal a small screen on it, with writing containing a message of the attack. “The design was taken from the DA coins, genius idea of Hermione’s.”
“You know I can defend myself Remus, even if I don’t have control over my magic right now. I’m wearing my battle robes and I have the knives I took from the Potter family vault.”
“I’m sorry Harry but it’s too dangerous, the Death eaters may have found out about your lack of magic and you’ll be their number one target. Stay here, I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Harry nodded and Remus drew his wand from his pocket and prepared to apparate away. Harry, for his part, made a decision. There was no way he was being left behind. He was an Order member, he was a Council member and he could look after himself. And so, as his friend and Guardian turned on the spot, Harry quickly placed his hand on the wizard’s shoulder and felt a tug behind his abdomen as he was pulled through limbo and to the battle which awaited him.
Landing in front of Thane’s, now half destroyed, house Harry saw that chaos reigned supreme. Dust seemed to be mixed in equal part with air and little more than flashes of light of all colours could be seen as the newly arrived Order engaged the Death eaters in battle. As soon as he landed, Harry saw Remus turn to speak to him but, out of the corner of his eye he saw a bolt of green light flying his way and he threw himself to the ground, pulling his guardian with him as the killing curse mercifully passed mere inches above his head.
The werewolf then sprung to his feet and incapacitated the death eater with a neat tripping jinx, followed closely by a stunner.
“Harry what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Remus yelled at his young charge.
“Not the best of times Moony.” Harry yelled back, trying to make himself heard over the deafening noise of battle. “We can talk later.”
Quickly scanning the scene of the battle, consisting of the front garden of the house and the street outside, Harry saw a death eater running towards his teacher’s home and suddenly sprung to life, giving chase as he realised that it was there, if anywhere, his friend was likely to be. The dark wizard seemed to sense his presence, however, as, just as Harry passed through the threshold of the house, he turned and fired a black jet of light at him and Harry had to throw himself to the ground as the dark magic travelled towards him with incredibly speed.
Landing neatly and with well practiced technique, Harry turned his fall in to a roll and was soon back on his feet, mere inches from the Death eater and his wand which swung around to face him. Reacting with reflexes born of years on the quidditch field, Harry hit the Death eater’s hand to the side, sending his deadly, green curse flying uselessly into the floor, then, before the dark wizard had time to react, he plunged one of his knives deep into the wizard’s leg. The Death Eater gave a howl of pain and Harry pulled out the knife, ready to finish him off, when a red jolt of light came flying from behind him, striking the dark wizard in the chest and knocking him to the ground, unconscious.
Turning around, Harry saw Remus crossing the doorway into Thane’s house, his wand arm still outstretched and Harry wouldn’t have been surprised to see his wand tip smoking as he felt an odd urge to laugh at the hate and concentration on the werewolf’s face.
“Nice shot Moony. But you do realise I had him anyway?” Harry asked mockingly.
“You wish.” Remus replied. “That’s two to me now.”
“I want partial credit for the guy, so that’s one to me.”
Remus suddenly stopped after his last statement and Harry knew immediately that something was wrong. Craning his neck slightly to look outside the door, Harry saw a wand pointing to Remus’ temple as he stood just inside. Amazingly, the Death eater seemed not to have noticed Harry who was just out of sight and so the young wizard crept quietly through a hole in the wall and outside as the evil wizard taunted his prey. Now standing directly to the side of the Death eater, whose attention was still completely fixed on Remus, Harry levelled his wand at the man’s heart and spoke.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said, the ice cold malice more than apparent in his hushed, whispered tone.
The Dark wizard spun around, redirecting his wand at the source of the new threat. Before he could utter the words of a curse, however, his eyes lit with shock and fear as they darted to his young opponent’s forehead and recognised him as none other than Harry Potter. The wizard seemed almost frozen to the spot, his wand still outstretched and Harry knew that he had to play this right and slowly began to walk forwards as he spoke once more.
“I’m going to make this very simple for you,” He said, his voice still low and menacing and his useless wand still pointing to the man’s heart, “You’re going to throw your wand to the ground or I’m going stop your heart from beating and I’m going to do it so fast your face won’t have time to contort to the shock and horror that so beautifully adorned Bella’s on the battlefield those weeks ago.”
The Death eater just nodded, the comment about his powerful commander and her death by this young wizard’s hand, clearly hitting home and he threw his wand to the floor.
“Good. Now get on to your knees.” Harry continued. And once again the Death eater obeyed.
Harry, by now, was nearing the dark wizard and he smiled, satisfied at his victory. But then they started. The whispering. The voices hissed in his ear and this time they weren’t foggy and unintelligible but clear and persuasive, a command from the darkest reaches of his soul as they whispered. ‘Kill him. Finish him just as you did the girl.’ Harry’s free hand twitched, almost of his own accord, in the direction of his daggers and he had to physically restrain himself from reaching his hand into his pocket and plunging the cold steel into the man’s heart. He closed his eyes for a second, doing battle, not for the first time, with his own mind until eventually, mercifully, the treacherous whispers faded and died.
Opening his eyes, he saw sheer terror staring back at him, the Death eater clearly fearing for his life and terrified at his enemy’s strange behaviour. For a second Harry even felt sorry for him, but then he remembered who this man was and what he represented. He was not human, he was pure evil, he was one of the scum who robbed his parents and Sirius and Hagrid and so many others of their lives, all in the pursuit of personal gain. His brilliant, emerald green eyes grew dark and he took the last step towards the Death eater before drawing back his fist and punching him squarely in the jaw with all of his strength. Harry watched satisfied as the wizard crumpled to the ground unconscious, before turning his eyes to a staring Remus.
“That’s two to me.”
The werewolf just smiled and shook his head, before binding the Dark wizard to the ground and picking up his wand, placing it in his inside cloak pocket. The two of them then walked silently together back inside the house, ever vigilant against attack but also aware that the noises of battle seemed to have faded and silence fallen outside the house. Making their way upstairs, the two of them pushed away a big piece of collapsed wall that lay in their path, before climbing the final few steps onto the landing.
With the house and street now eerily quiet, Harry started to walk towards a door on the left hand side which stood slightly ajar. He was about to push it open when a hand suddenly came down upon his shoulder, holding him back and, turning around, he was met by the sight of Remus, his eyes filled with concentration and his finger to his lips, asking for silence.
“There’s someone in there.” He whispered in Harry’s ear. “On the count of three.”
He lifted his index finger up from his fist. One. His middle finger. Two…and his third, ring finger. That was three and as soon as the signal was given, the two of them kicked open the door, their wands pointing in front of them and at any potential threat as they stormed the room.
“Everybody throw your wands to the ground at put your hands on your heads.” Remus shouted, commandingly.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend Moony?” A voice replied from the floor. It was Thane and he didn’t look so good.
Lying on the ground, the room around him torn to pieces, Thane had propped himself up with a chair, his wand directed at the door, apparently to ward off any intruders. Scratches and wounds peppered the young teacher’s face and his left hand was placed firmly on his right shoulder where blood was starting to seep through his fingers and shirt. But on his lips there played a smile and Harry breathed a sigh of relief that his friend and teacher was safe.
“You look awful.” Remus commented kindly.
“I feel it.” Thane admitted in return. “But the guy who did this isn’t one to be messed with and anyway, you should see him.” He redirected his focus to Harry. “You’re going to love this mate.”
Then, and with considerable effort, or so it seemed, Thane flicked his wand at a space to his right and slowly a spell began to fade and a figure began to come into view. Slowly the disillusionment spell disappeared, revealing a battered and bruised figure, lying unconscious and bound on the floor. It was the figure of Severus Snape.
Harry’s face broke into a smile and he turned his gaze to see his feelings mirrored on the faces of both his friends.
“That is bloody brilliant. Thane you are bloody brilliant.” Harry said, “Remus, take this man away and hold him under lock and key.”
Remus saluted, “Right you are Mr. Potter.”
“And Thane,” Harry continued, “just a suggestion mate, but you might want to see a healer.”
“What do you know Remus,” Thane replied, “he’s got James’ intellect.”
A/N: There you have it, I find that the first chapter is always one of the most difficult to write, simply because I haven't got into the flow of the story, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. So, we have delved straight into the action haven't we? And we have alot of important stuff for the story, Snape has been captured, Thane's house destroyed, Harry's magic temporarily lost, the Nosferatu/Lycanthrope war set up and the whispers introduced, all in 7000 action packed words. So, as ever I will always respond to your reviews and I desperately want to hear what you think of the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, but if you didn't, tell me why not.
P.S. A Lumina, for those of you who are interested, is Romanian and what it means gives a big clue to the nature of this mysterious elixir.
Write a Review Harry Potter and the Elixir a Lumina: Of battles, magical powers and treacherous whispers