Imprisoned Realm

By: LoveHP

Fandom: harry potter

Summary: A trap during the Horcrux hunt sends Harry into a dimension where war has raged for 28 years. Harry must not only protect himself from Voldemort, but also from a rising new Dark Lord, the evil Ministry, a war-hardened Dumbledore and... himself. Will he find his way back home to finish his own war? COMPLETE. WARNINGS: murder/torture/rape (fade to black) war/prison atrocities.

Status: Completed

Fic type: Books/Harry Potter

Pairings/Main char.: Harry P., Lily Evans P., Severus S., Albus D.

Published: 2005-12-16

Last updated: 2020-08-05

Words count: 314,314

Chapters count: 55

Converted using www.FF2EBOOK.com
Date: 2021-12-06

1. Into the Mirror

***WARNING***

Imprisoned Realm is a very dark story with confronting adult themes, including violence, torture and rape of a major character(s) (non graphic, fade to black scenes) and some squeamish injuries. War isn't pretty.

* Thanks to Brianna for Betaing some of my fic. For most of the story, I have edited myself, so I apologise for SPaG and other errors.

* SHIPS: This story is not about romance, but there are ships of all persuasions, both canon and AU unusual pairings.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

I do not endorse the ideas and themes presented in this fic. It is only a work of fiction.

A/N: Harry's wand was never broken in the Canon realm and this spurred on the change of fate.

Into the Mirror

"I have a bad feeling about this place," Ron said.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger held their lit wands up high above them, as they searched their dark surroundings.

They were in a crevice deep in the most remote area of the Scottish Highlands. Not even a hint of grass grew on the wind-swept mountain they had ventured on. Sharp jagged rocks lined the crack and its high ceiling disappeared into darkness. The wind outside roared like a freight train, while the cold within formed ice on Harry's clothes. It was the middle of summer, yet here, it felt like winter.

As they drew deeper within the fissure, three forks in the passage presented themselves. Two out of the three were too thin to pass through. For a starved teenager like Harry, he contemplated whether he could squeeze through, but thought better of it. They ended up walking through the third fork.

"This is ridiculous," piped Hermione. The dampness of the place was making her hair bushier than normal. "I swear I saw a blue mist coming from this cave."

"We saw it too," Harry reassured.

They had seen some strange, yet futile endeavours over the several months of their Horcrux hunt; this was turning out to be no different.

Harry ran his hands over the wall of the cave. He felt no strange magic, only that it was very cold to the touch, and wet. He accidentally cut his finger over a piece of dark blue crystal. "Ouch!"

"Are you okay?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Harry sucked on his bleeding finger, reminiscing how he had suffered much worse on the hunt. He had almost been killed by a snake, murderous Horcruxes and wandering Death Eaters.

After destroying the locket Horcrux, their interest turned to the strange triangular symbol that had cropped up in several places. It took them to the Lovegoods' house where they learnt that the symbol was for the Deathly Hallows. They also discovered that Luna had been abducted, but they didn't find out anything more because Mr Lovegood had alerted the Death Eaters. So they made a run for it.

They then travelled to Albania, exploring that region where Voldemort had been. While they sat stony-faced in their tent one night, they spoke about family, friends and Hogwarts. Harry mentioned Luna, hoping she was still alive, and how her dad betrayed them. It was then that Ron remembered that ridiculous remake of Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem in Mr Lovegood's house. That's when they thought it could be a possible Horcrux.

They knew the Hogwarts founder was from Scotland. This fact took them straight here. They came across an old warlock deep in the mountains, who had heard tales of a place Rowena would study and experiment with magic in. It was called The Giant's Cut, an ancient crevice named by the local wizards in the area.

After months spent travelling like lost souls, Harry felt as though they were on the verge of victory.

"LOOK! Over there," Hermione's voice echoed.

It was certainly a peculiar mist; dark blue and ominous. Harry inched toward it noticing that it was coming out of a tunnel.

"Wait!" Hermione suddenly grabbed his arm. "It might be dangerous." She pointed her wand towards it and muttered an incantation. When the spell produced nothing, she resorted to throwing a rock at it. "Well it seems safe, but I don't know."

Throwing caution into the wind, Harry moved his fingers through the mist. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting some sort of pain or disfiguration. The only thing he had felt was a strange cold that made his skin and bones prickle with power, making his hand seem more alive than it already was. He pulled his hand away and saw Hermione's peaky face now glistening with cold sweat. She seemed very excited.

"What is it?" He whispered, as he rubbed warmth back into his freezing, tingling fingers.

"I—I don't know."

"At least it didn't kill you." Ron smirked as he felt the mist for himself. "It feels so weird though."

"There's ancient magic here. Magic lost to time." Hermione's eyes followed the trail of mist up above them, until the darkness swallowed it up. "Isn't it fascinating?"

"Yeah, it is, but I still have a bad feeling about this place." Ron tentatively placed a hand on the crevice wall trying to pull out a blue crystal.

"We have to be really careful now. You-Know-Who might've booby-trapped this place," explained Harry, eyeing Ron apprehensively as he successfully plucked the crystal.

Harry looked beyond the mist and discovered that the tunnel contained roughly carved stone steps. "There's stairs—"

"ARRRRRGHHHH!"

"RON!" Hermione screamed.

Their best friend had fallen through the side of the wall and was tumbling down a secret set of steps. They followed swiftly and heard a thump at the bottom, and Ron's echoing groans.

"Ron, are you okay?" Harry shouted.

Hermione reached him first, her cloak flying about her. "Oh Ron," she whimpered, kneeling beside him.

"M'ok," he croaked, feeling the large gash on his head. He paled even more at the sight of the blood on his fingers.

Hermione quickly fished around in her purse for the bottle of dittany .

"I just touched this massive blue crystal and the wall just vanished!"

"It's ok, mate. Do you feel anything broken?" Harry asked.

"I don't think so."

As Harry propped his friend up slowly he looked around the chamber, and his eyes adjusted to the blue light. He swore loudly at the spectacular site.

"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled.

"No, Ron." Harry pointed around the chamber. "Look around you."

Everywhere, books and thick scrolls lined the chamber walls. More bizarrely, hundreds of tomes were floating above them out of reach and the same blue mist they had seen above lingered here more thickly. The mist seemed to have created a barrier around the books, swirling slowly around them like time did not exist here.

"You're bloody brilliant, Ron!" Harry yelled in joy as he ventured over to a stone shelf carved into the chamber wall. Excitement pumped through him. He was sure that they were going to find the diadem now.

Ron staggered upright with Hermione's help, though he looked unsure whether his tumble down the secret passage had really been worth the effort. They walked around the circular room together.

Harry cautiously put his hand through the mist, grabbing hold of a large leather bound book that sat on the stone shelf. The book looked as new as the day it was made. Frowning, he opened the cover and discovered that the colours were bright and the gilding beautiful. Little drawings of people walked about the cover. The scrolled text shifted lightly as though it were in a breeze. It was made over a thousand years ago in complete Latin, yet perfectly preserved with not a dog-eared page, fading colours or the peeling of leather in sight.

"Hey Hermione, this book doesn't look old at all."

Peeking over his shoulder, she snatched the book off his hands, while Ron took another off a different shelf.

"Hmm. It's like the mist is… oh…" Her eyes suddenly glazed over. She suddenly began rummaging through the shelves looking for something, opening each book in a hurried state.

"What is it?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Let's just wait til she's ready to tell us."

Harry agreed and continued to explore the chamber. A book floating above decided to hover near his ear. It was the only floating book to have come down low enough for him to touch. He noticed floating books following Ron and Hermione too.

But immediately he knew touching it was the wrong thing to do. Something very bizarre and unwelcome was happening to him. A white light erupted from the spot he had touched and he seemed glued to the book, unable to shake it off.

"WHAT—?"

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed.

Ron tried to grab him, but he was repelled across the room. He smashed into one of the shelves and fell unconscious. Harry yelled out, though no sound came out.

Now a familiar, yet stranger sensation of Portkey travel was occurring. There was no normal hooking sensation around his belly button, nor was there that feeling of being sucked through space. Even the colour he saw through his confused eyes wasn't normal: it was red, a darkish red that struck foreboding into every inch of his being. Within the dark red void, blinding light suddenly pierced through, like claws had been scratching it away. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as the light stung.

Paralysed by an unknown strength binding to him like tentacles, he was forced to hear Hermione's anguished shouts.

Then, out of nowhere, a loud whooshing sound roared in his ears, drowning out his friend's terrified voice. After a second, he heard strange sounds, people's voices; snippets of conversations. Some seemed happy, others angry. There were snatches of laughter and moments of crying, and something which sounded like a train blazing past him. It was like somebody was tuning a radio to their favourite station.

Just as the noise became excruciatingly loud, it abruptly stopped, and the whirlwind sensation ceased.

Even though he never felt as though he hit the ground, the travel had ended. It was like the longest Floo Harry had ever experienced. Taking in a deep breath, he finally opened his tightly shut eyes. It took a moment for his sight to adjust to his new predicament.

The book that had been stuck to his hand lay in his lap now, looking quite ordinary. He read the title in a state of panic, unable to look beyond the book in fear of what he would find. The book read in a strange language. Oe Fo Irbil. He picked it up using the sleeves of his jacket and flung it far away from him, like it was diseased.

He finally took the courage to look around his new surroundings. He expected to see himself in some deserted park or forest, or a dungeon. Instead, what he saw stunned him.

Harry bolted upright and gripped his wand.

A woman, aged in her late thirties, with auburn grey-streaked hair was pointing a wand right into his face. What shocked Harry most of all was those bright green eyes that framed her face. The woman was his dead mother.

Lily Potter stared back, angry and shocked, and alive.

"M-Mum?" Was he dead? It had to be a nightmare, or maybe it was a Death Eater trick. "Mum—Lily Potter?"

Lily's wand shook slightly and she grew pale at those simple words, it was like she hadn't been called 'Mum' by Harry for a very long time. Her mouth quivered, her eyes darting from door to window, then to him again.

"H-Harry, how did you escape Azkaban?"

"What?" he laughed. "Azkaban? I was never in Azkaban. I'm dreaming." He pinched himself.

"Dreaming?" she repeated slowly, confused. "Harry, you escaped days ago. Why did you come back here?"

"Come back? Listen, I didn't come here. I—I'm not even sure where here is, or if this is real."

Lily laughed haughtily. "Yes, this is very real. You came here to kill us."

"I didn't come—"

"Don't play games with me!"

He glared back. Where the hell was he? Who was she? "You're a Death Eater. You're the one tricking me!"

She raised her eyebrows. "You are the Death Eater, Harry!"

Lily pulled the blinds down. The room was instantly bathed in an eerie light. "Tell me the truth."

"I. Don't. Know," he stressed. "Who are you? You're not my mother."

"You've gone mad!"

Theories sprung into Harry's mind: Had Voldemort tricked him into Rowena's crevice? He was trying to convince himself that this wasn't real, because Lily Potter had died almost seventeen years before. He raised his wand again.

A jet of red light sizzled past Harry's ear, smashing a family portrait behind him. He covered his head, ducking as a shower of glass and red sparks danced off the walls.

"Look!" He pointed at the tome. "I touched that book and it acted like a Portkey. Only now, I'm not so sure it really was a Portkey."

Lily looked at him closely with a calculating expression Harry knew only too well from knowing Snape.

"Stop lying, Harry!"

"Mummy?"

Lily gasped, and so did Harry at the sound of a little girl's voice.

Then a realisation hit him, had he travelled into a Mirror Universe?

"Mummy, what's going on? I heard shouting and something break."

Harry could tell this witch was now extremely frantic as she focused on the figure he could not see in the hallway. But he found the portrait that had fallen, covered in shattered glass. His heart nearly stopped when he picked it up.

All five members were staring at him. His mum and dad were in it, along with three children. There were two teenage boys, both auburn-haired like their mum, and the tallest wore glasses. The little girl, who looked about ten in the picture, had black pigtails, but her glassy eyes were all white. She was not smiling and neither did she wave. But most notably, there was no Harry in the picture.

"He's here, isn't he?"

"Jessica, darling, I want you to go up to your room, lock it, and contact your fath—no wait, contact Remus and tell him he's back. You know what to do, now go!"

"Jessica," he whispered, staring into her misty eyes in the photo.

If all this was true, then Harry could've had a little sister and brothers. He was suddenly jolted out of his thoughts when he felt something hard on his temple. He let go of the picture, letting it crash onto the floor again.

"Give me your wand and get up!" Lily yelled.

"What are their names—your two boys?" Harry asked, obeying the witch.

"Don't even pretend—" She looked livid. "Now move!"

He felt a painful jab and he complied, too stunned to fight back. There was no way this witch was a Death Eater.

Harry passed the kitchen and was led to a closed door. Lily opened it to reveal a vast darkness, and steps that seemed to lead nowhere.

"Get in. And don't bother using your Mage magic—"

"Mage—?"

Lily huffed. "The basement's got a number of protective enchantments Dumbledore has kindly put on."

Dumbledore's alive here! He was forced down the stairs. Lily closed the door and he could hear a number of locking charms being placed on it.

In the darkness, he felt his way around the room with a million questions buzzing through his mind.

Since when was he a Mage? It was rare for someone to do this ancient magic. Most become Mages through Dark magic and never lived long. But a natural born Mage was even rarer and Harry doubted he was. Surely, Dumbledore would've told him.

He leaned his head on the wall and closed his eyes willing himself awake. Maybe when he woke up, he could joke around with Ron about this stupid dream.

2. The Shattering

The Shattering

The Dementor mist outside Remus Lupin's cottage in Yorkshire was particularly thick and menacing that afternoon. However, he sat rugged up in his favourite armchair, reading reports from Auror and Order member, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The first report was about their friend's abducted children escaping from Malfoy Manor, which had occurred on the same day as the Azkaban breakout. The Order of the Phoenix was searching Wiltshire for them, though so far, there was no trace of them. Remus knew that they were scared to be caught by their Mentor, Bellatrix, or the Ministry. To make matters worse, the children distrusted the Order, despite their source giving them instructions where to hide and that they would be safe.

The second report detailed sixteen bizarre murders of Death Eaters and another missing goblin that had happened in the past week. All the bodies had a Grindelwald's symbol carved on their cheek.

The third was all about the breakout at Azkaban. One section of The Black Square, which housed the worst of the Death Eaters and Ministry Rebels, had been blasted to bits, allowing several prisoners to escape. Death Eaters showed up minutes later to fight at the outskirts of the prison which could only be described as an uncoordinated attack. This suggested the breakout had not been planned by Voldemort. It was either orchestrated by Harry, or this mysterious person creating these so called, 'Grindelwald Murders.'

Remus, these murders have been ongoing for months. But we've never had so many in a week. And why include the goblins now? Several goblins have gone missing in the last few months. It's now creating a dangerous situation between goblin and wizard relations.

I've contacted the Aurors in Nurmengard and they've said that Grindelwald is still shackled up firmly. Whatever the truth, witnesses say that this golden masked wizard wants to fight against the Ministry and Voldemort. While his followers, if caught, die before revealing a scrap of truth because of an oath they took.

Even more alarming, is that Voldemort's European sleeper factions are stirring. Is this wizard inspired by Grindelwald forcing Voldemort out of his comfortable hole?

Unfortunately, the European Ministries have turned a blind eye to the Order's recent warnings, caused by decades of mistrust of our government, and a fallacy that Voldemort would never have the power to invade their countries, as you know.

But the destruction in the Muggle realm hasn't escaped the world's scrutiny. It's been getting worse over the last few years and it's crossing overseas now. The mist is spreading and they're blaming it on climate change. The Muggles are desperate now. Yes, they do as the Ministry says, because they're too scared of us. Scrimgeour has threatened them, and they know it's very hard finding wizards.

Yes, Muggle warfare helps, but it cannot place a huge dent in Voldemort's army... or even the Ministry if they were brave enough. They… we will bounce right back. Anyway, Ministries around the world are scrambling to protect the Muggles from our war by putting up a smokes screen.

'The U.K is a powerful country with only a small problem, caused by the terrorist group, The Green Skulls,' they tell the world. And the Ministry's agents in the U.N have pleaded for no help.

Remus pinched the top of his nose. That's because half of all the powerful Muggles have either been hoodwinked, bribed or blackmailed into submission, he thought. He sipped his tea, trying to abate his fear, but his fear was now reaching its apex.

And speaking of smoke screens, my gut is telling me, that that's what Grindelwald is doing in Nurmengard, or it's a ruse by the Ministry to create chaos in Voldemort's circle.

Remus knew something ominous was brewing.

Whatever the case may be, Voldemort will be advancing soon, and we will need all the hope and luck in the world to beat him.

Flames roared in his fire grate, painting the room purple. The war-torn man, with the look of someone who was recovering from an illness, moved towards the fire, catching his reflection in a mirror as he hobbled over.

He hated mirrors and hated the way shadows emphasised his sunken eyes and cheeks. The wisps of grey in his hair made him wince at how prematurely old he must look. Even his little house he now lived alone in made him feel older than he was.

"Remus?" called a little girl from the grate.

Jessica always placed a smile on his face. It was just a pity the girl didn't smile back anymore.

"Hello sweetheart—"

Something was wrong. Perhaps it was the way her lips quivered or the way the purple licks of flames highlighted the terror in her foggy eyes.

"What's happened?"

"Harry's back. Mummy caught him. She wants you to come over, right now."

Remus felt as though all his breath had been knocked out of him. He knew Harry would try something against his own family again, but never this soon since his escape.

"Are you all okay?"

"Yes," the girl whispered, before her Flooed head disappeared from the flames.

Remus draped his cloak on, and stepped into the purple flames. "The Potters," he shouted. His mind whirled just like his senses as he travelled through the illegal and sometimes unreliable Floo connection that the Order was privy to.

Arriving, Remus stepped into the darkness of Jessica's bedroom and turned on the light. He found the girl fiddling with a lock of her black hair, back against the wall, staring ahead into nothingness, as she usually did.

"He's in the basement. Mummy said to lock myself in here."

"You've done well, sweetheart. Now, tell me, did he fight back?" Jessica shook her head. Strange, he thought. You were caught too easily, Harry… "Don't move from here."

"Remus," the girl whispered, wrapping her skinny arms around him, "don't leave me."

"You're safe. He won't hurt you again, I promise."

He hurried down the stairs, and wasn't surprised to hear a small sob coming from the kitchen. Remus tore his focus away from the basement door, and headed towards the distraught mother.

"Lily, are you alright? Why haven't you called the Order in—?"

"Oh God, Remus, I can't believe he's here!" she wailed, catching him in a strangling hug. Her long auburn hair was in a tangle around her wet face.

"It was only a matter of time."

"I—I've tried to be strong—but he's still my child."

"We have to protect ourselves," he encouraged. "Harry's not the little boy you once knew. You just have to look at Jessica and at Charlie's grave to realise this. What about the countless people he's tortured or killed—even your sister's family?"

Lily sat down in defeat. She had been such a tough warrior before now; this was the first time in almost a year Lily had actually showed any sort of emotion towards her eldest child. The last time Remus saw her cry was when they watched Harry being taken to Azkaban without a trial.

"I called you because as soon as James—Look, you know how hot-headed he can be. Besides, it's the first time in years he's had some quality time with the boys. I want it to be spe—special for them."

"But Dumbledore needs to know, now," he protested. "The Order—"

"Screw the Order!" Lily got up again. "This is our chance to talk some bloody sense into—turn him over to our side." Her face was bright with hope.

"No, it won't work. He's just too far in."

She covered her eyes again. "I don't know why I'm feeling like this. But it's all coming back. I saw something in his eyes, Remus, I really did."

"Like what?"

"Good… I'm imagining things, aren't I? But explain why the Foe Alarm didn't trigger to an enemy here? He didn't disable them, they're still active."

"Harry is a Mage. He can manipulate magic. Look, remember what you said when they first caught him?" he asked. He had been told everything after Lily had seen Harry in the Auror Department, caught soon after his brother's murder.

"I'm not proud of it. It wasn't me. I didn't mean it." She placed a hand over her heart, as though the words were wounds that needed to be healed.

"You slapped him so hard that even Umbridge was surprised. You told him right there he was evil, and that you were ashamed that you had given birth to him."

"I don't know why I said that!"

Remus hated himself for reminding her. He just needed to make sure she was not becoming disillusioned.

"I just want to know why," she cried.

"We all do."

The Lily he knew would be kind to even the most deadly of creatures and would help strangers and outcasts like him. She'd see past the bad things or faults in that person, and uncover that little bit of good. It was in her nature to give people a second chance. And what had happened in the Auror Department revealed how truly shattered she was as a mother and as a friend.

She pulled something out of her robe: a battered looking wand in desperate need of a good polish. "Harry had it. We should try to contact whoever it's stolen from."

"If they're not dead..."

"Please Remus, please talk to him."

"Okay," he resigned. "Then we'll call the Order in."

(******)

Harry sat on the cold floor, remembering what Flitwick told them in sixth year about Mirror Universes; he knew the magic to open the barriers was extremely advanced, rare and nearly extinct, banned by Ministries of Magic around the world for centuries, just as Horcruxes were and Time Turners regulated. Only an unusually powerful person could open it. It was realising this that made Harry's stomach fill with butterflies; Rowena Ravenclaw had been a truly gifted witch.

His ears perked up when he heard the basement door opening.

"Move and you'll wish you were never born." With a flick of the wizard's wand, Harry found himself restrained by invisible ropes.

"Remus?" The dark shadow did not respond. "Professor Lupin?"

"Since when have I ever been a professor?"

The wand flared up and Harry saw the werewolf perfectly clear.

"Have they Atoners in Azkaban addled your brain?"

Harry wondered what the hell Atoners were. "Wha—?"

"Your mother seems to think that we can change you for the better. But you and I both know that'll never happen." Remus paused. "Now, why are you here? You could've gone straight to your master. Why did you get yourself caught so easily, hmm?"

"I'm not the Harry you know. I think I am—I'm a Mirror from another world."

"A Mirror?" Remus raised an eyebrow, "quite original, Harry."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "My friends and I were in a cave..." He decided not to reveal too much. "I touched a, er, book there, and it acted as a strange Portkey."

"And what were you doing in that cave?"

"Research..."

"For what?"

Harry hesitated. "A diadem."

Remus quietly registered his face. "Why?"

Harry just stared.

"Why?" the werewolf repeated more firmly.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you."

"I think you're lying."

"Well, I'm telling the truth."

"How did you come here? Did you organise the escape?"

Harry tensed. "The book I touched forced me to travel to—what I assume is—a Mirrored Dimension."

"That wouldn't be magic easily accessible to anyone," Remus scoffed. "It's not magic within reach of a seventeen year old—"

"Hey, you don't know—"

"What you've done? You murdered your own brother and almost killed your sister!"

Harry's stomach somersaulted at those words. "The book is upstairs, somewhere. Feel free to check it out." He was done talking.

"We can't open it."

"But—What?"

"We think you stole the book from the person you took the wand, and made it into a Portkey."

"No—I—that wand is mine!"

Remus Lupin sneered. It was the first time Harry had ever seen that look on his old professor's face, and it was disconcerting.

He had once or twice imagined a different world where his parents were alive. But in that world he was happy, safe, and his parents loved him. A stupid dream, he thought, as he felt the hurt of Remus's sneer dig deep.

The werewolf's gaze slowly moved up to Harry's forehead. The wand carefully prodded his long fringe away, revealing the lightning bolt scar. "That's new," he said.

"It's a curse scar…" He told him the story. "It had to do with a stupid prophecy Snape had overheard."

Remus scoffed at him.

"I'M NOT LYING!" Harry yelled angrily.

"You are borrowing from the Longbottom's story." The werewolf stood up.

"Wait—the Longbottoms are dead—Neville? You have to believe me, sir, where I'm from—"

"I'm sorry, but it's hard to believe you when you've done so much to destroy hundreds of lives." Remus shook his wand and the light disappeared.

"How did you escape?"

Harry pursed his lips, not answering.

"Alright... Before I leave, where did you get that wand? And for once, tell us the truth."

"I've told you before, it's mine."

(******)

Frowning, Remus locked the basement door. There was something not right with the boy. It was expected that Harry would be maltreated in Azkaban, but still, it was a shock seeing him so dishevelled, undernourished and dare he say it, insane.

"Did he speak?" Lily questioned.

"Yes… and no," he replied, rubbing his tired eyes. "He—"

"What exactly did you talk to him about?" a rough voice asked.

They jumped at James's sudden appearance. Jessica was gripping her father's robes, hiding behind him. He looked as livid as he had on the day he promised over his dead son's grave that he would punish Harry for what he had done.

Sirius bolted into the kitchen. His hair was combed back sleekly, and a goatee proudly adorned his handsome face. There were a few lipstick stains on his unbuttoned collar. Remus vaguely wondered who Sirius was seeing this week.

"Where is he?" Sirius said, looking around the hall, his eyes locking on the basement door. "I want to stare into my Godson's face before—"

James gripped his best friend's shoulder hard; the both of them seemed to communicate in silence.

"Wh-where are the boys?" Lily stuttered.

"I left them with the Weasleys. Now, why the hell didn't you tell me?" James yelled. There was a crease between his brows; his grey flecked hair tumbling over his eyes.

"I—I just couldn't!"

Jessica was cowering behind her father. "I'm sorry, Mummy, but Daddy called in to say hello and I told him."

A/N: The normal Floo Network was closely monitored and the Ministry of Magic had to authorise every single travel. Once the user stepped into the flames, they'd be automatically Flooed to the Ministry and interrogated about their itinerary. Sometimes people vanished completely.

3. Attack

A/N: A few readers may have issues with the way a character reacts in this chapter. But I think a grieving parent with pent up anger and hurt would, especially when there was no resolution as to why it happened.

Attack

Harry didn't have time to reflect on his conversation with Remus, because he heard several angry voices coming from upstairs.

"Protect him?" he heard an angry man ask. "From what?"

"From you, James!"

"Oh my God," Harry couldn't believe he was hearing his father talk.

"He doesn't need protecting, if you ask me," said another, who sounded like Sirius.

Harry gasped. Hearing his Godfather speak again felt so surreal to him.

"I wasn't asking you!" Lily yelled. "Why do you have to be on James's side all the time?"

"Because I'm right," James bellowed. "He's going to pay and this time you can't stop me!"

"You would've killed him if we let you go to the Auror Department."

Any moment now, Harry was going to see his father again—this time alive and in a very murderous mood.

BANG!

The door flew open and bright light flooded the basement. Harry scrambled into a corner and saw James Potter literally flying down the stairs.

Lily tried desperately to stop her husband. "NO, JAMES, DON'T!"

Harry didn't even have time to think, let alone speak, before he felt fingers wrap around his neck. He struggled, frightened at the insane look on his father's face.

"You're not my son! You died with Charlie," James gritted. "You died with Charlie!"

Harry began kicking him and felt his grip slacken. James then threw him onto the ground.

With panic, Harry saw Sirius stopping Lily from trying to curse him. She shot wand sparks into the air as he battled to rip it from her hand. Lily smacked him hard in the face.

"I'm—not—your—son," Harry spluttered.

"Stop lying," James spat, his words drowning out Lily's terrified shouts. "You came back and you killed him. You almost killed your sister. You could've left them alone and gone for me instead." James's hot tears fell onto Harry's face.

Black smog filled Harry's vision. He couldn't see James now, and his voice became a strange echo.

"You… you… Murderer…"

A girl, somewhere, screamed. Her voice was so shrill, so high, that Harry dimly thought someone would notice her. Then everything went black.

(******)

Remus held his breath as James seemed to have realised what he had done, letting go of the boy's neck. He jerked backwards. Then he hesitantly shook his son's shoulder. "Ha—Harry?" There was no response. "What have I—?" A look of horror washed over his face. "No! Wake up—WAKE UP!"

Then Lily attacked. "YOU KILLED HIM!" She turned James around and slapped him.

Remus's heart thumped hard as he cradled Jessica.

"Nonononononooooooo!" the little girl cried.

"He's not dead," Sirius said angrily, "Otherwise the Aurors would've come through!"

Remus turned away. "Shhhh. Jessica, Harry is going to be alright."

"I don't wa-want him t-to die."

He walked the girl over to the living room and sat her down in the armchair that seemed to swallow her little body up. "Don't move from here until I say so." Jessica sniffled and wiped her cloudy white eyes with the sleeve of her jumper.

"Remus…"

He looked down. "Yes?"

"I di-didn't mean to tell Daddy."

"None of this is your fault."

When he returned to the basement he found Lily crying in a corner. James was backed against the wall with closed eyes, while Sirius rubbed his temples, as though the entire event had caused him a migraine.

Remus knelt down to check on Harry.

"He's not dead," repeated Sirius.

"I heard you the first time."

Bruising was starting to blossom around the boy's neck. Remus muttered a spell, healing the boy. He learnt that little spell from his Healer wife, Anne. However, thinking about her always reopened old wounds.

James opened his eyes, and a steely look quickly replaced his horrified expression a minute ago.

"Do you want to end up in Azkaban? This family's lost so much already," Remus said calmly. Even though James glared back, he would've regretted going too far.

Sirius snorted. "I think the Ministry would congratulate him for snuffing out a big name Death Eater."

"SHUT UP!" Lily screamed. "He is still your godson."

"I—I'm…" James grimaced, "I'm not sorry."

"Yes you are," Remus replied quietly.

"Stop it, Remus, I'm warning you," he fired back.

"No matter how much you despise what he did, Harry is still our son," Lily snapped. She picked up her son's left arm, peeling his sleeve back.

"You think too much with your heart," Sirius growled.

"Excuse me?" she hissed. "You used to, too, before you became a cheap playboy!"

"I am not—"

"STOP FIGHTING," Remus shouted, putting a hand on his friend's chest. "Sirius, just go and call the Order in."

He knew Sirius would rather argue a bit more. His nostrils flared with brooding anger. Sirius wiped away a little bit of blood from his lip from where Lily had smacked him as he left.

Remus's mind was buzzing as he looked over Lily's shoulder to see Harry's forearm. There was no Dark Mark, except for two scars that looked like puncture marks, and much less scars than they would've expected.

"No Dark Mark. He must be hiding it with that spell of his."

"Don't bother with a Revealing Charm, Lily," Sirius said. "Mage magic has a different imprint— even normal spells are difficult to remove without a bit of elbow grease."

"I know that, but I'm still going to try," she shot back as Sirius disappeared up the stairs. Lily placed her wand over where the mark should be. Nothing happened. "Sod…"

"He's probably modified his Mark Disguising Charm anyway," James concluded.

Remus nodded in agreement. Voldemort once objected to this new spell, but now it was now a useful tool for the child soldiers to escape Ministry investigations.

"We'll need to check that wand he stole, too," James croaked. "A few months back we heard that Harry had created a Dark Charm that manipulates a wand's history, so that every time a curse was used, the echo of the victim would be obscured and unrecognisable."

"It's a useful spell for the Conditioned who still have trouble killing."

"Why?" Lily asked.

"The charm hides the identities of their failed kills and they escape punishment from their Mentors—although, now that that charm has become known to them, the Mentors have become particularly scrupulous of their young trainees."

"These child soldiers are captives, not trainees," Lily corrected. "So… these failed kills remain unnamed and unfound?" She turned to her husband. "That's one more thing you've been hiding from me James!"

He crossed his arms, cheeks lightly flushing. "That's because you get overly sentimental when we talk about our murderous child."

"That's enough," Remus interjected.

Lily huffed, before throwing several Revealing Charms at the boy, which showed nothing despite his recent Portkey travel and Remus binding him up. As Sirius had said, Mage magic hides and even absorbs remnants of magic, no matter how old it was, or as trivial as Floo travel.

She gave up. "At least his spells are keeping the Conditioned safe."

"They're not innocent children. They're Death Eaters," James scoffed.

"They're still victims!"

Remus was on the fence about this. "There's been eighteen years worth of Death Eaters kidnapping children of families that have angered Voldemort, and these kids are brainwashed into submission. They'll kill you without hesitation."

"And it's become a proud tradition and a form of initiation for Death Eaters to become Mentors now," Sirius said from the top of the stairs. "Harry was due to become a Mentor himself."

"That's sick!" Lily said. "This is why I want to know—we finally have a chance to get all the information out of Harry about his double life."

"Lily, Harry joined Voldemort when he was eleven. He did so willingly and hid it well from Dumbledore. Then last year, in his bedroom, he killed Charlie and failed to kill Jessica," Sirius replied. "We saw him Disapparate out of the bedroom. When will that sink in?"

"Did you call Dumbledore yet?" She pursed her lips and prodded her son's limbs.

Sirius huffed. "My Patronus is having difficulties finding Dumbledore. He's never an easy target."

"What's this?" Lily questioned, as she felt over Harry's clothes. She pulled out a pouch from underneath his shirt and ripped it free. She tried to open it, but failed.

"Mummy," Jessica cried once more. The girl was becoming more and more agitated the longer they were down there.

"Come on, let's go. He'll be fine," Remus beseeched as he watched James trudge up the stairs looking utterly defeated by the world.

"James—"

"Leave him," Lily said.

He agreed sullenly.

"Wait, we can't just leave Harry here, like this."

Remus hesitated, waved his wand around and a blanket floated over Harry, with a pillow fitting snugly under his head.

Lily waved her wand and moments later a jug of water and a tin of baked beans whizzed over their heads, landing softly near him. "What else should we do for him?"

"Nothing until Dumbledore sees him."

(******)

The house was in complete darkness. With every footstep the floorboards creaked loudly, and the metallic smell of blood grew stronger as they travelled deeper within.

"Lumos."

Rubble had littered the corridor, along with hundreds of Grindelwald's calling cards fluttering in the breeze. Albus Dumbledore picked one up from the blood splattered floor. It was a gold business card with a black 'G' scrolled upon it. It swirled as though it were alive and writhing. Grindelwald had left these cards wherever he visited during his first reign of terror... and now he has started doing it again.

Albus threw it away as he navigated through the living room. Then his eyes caught sight of a ripped teddy bear, like it was something from a distant memory.

"Over here," Kingsley shouted.

In the upstairs corridor, there were two dead Death Eaters, and one Auror who lay dying. He looked at the Death Eaters faces and found the bloodied carvings of the Deathly Hallows symbol on their cheeks. Gellert, you are using your old tactics again? That is very disappointing.

However, it was the sight of the dead boy with white, wide eyes, standing against the wall, which got their attention the most.

Dumbledore waved his lit wand at the boy. The corpse wasn't quite Inferi. This was different.

It cocked its head as a trickle of blood escaped its nose.

"Merlin!" Arthur gasped.

"What's your message?" Dumbledore commanded as he took a step back. The light of his wand twinkled in the boy's pale eyes. It was mesmerising, haunting, evil. "Do not touch him," he calmly told the others, "he may attack us."

The corpse moved its jaw left and right, bowed its head and rasped, "Your side is losing, Dumbledore. It is time to die." It then fell to the floor.

They gazed at it, lost for words, until something gargled behind them.

"Dumbledore..." The dying Auror coughed and wheezed. "Dumbledore..."

He crouched down. "What happened here? Where's the rest of the family?"

Paul Sommersby, a grey haired, sallow faced Auror, was regarded for his intelligence in the Ministry. This family he had been protecting had been Voldemort's target and it seems they were an important one to Grindelwald as well.

"They took them. We failed... Father dead. Mother to Hogwarts. She knew things about ... about the Greek, Italian Depart... Mysteries... The other children... will be condi-" He coughed. "We couldn't save the oldest… stupid boy tried to fight them."

"Yes, a shame," Dumbledore grimaced; staring at the boy's now closed eyes.

"Grindelwald... wanted Unspeak… too..."

What are you up to, Gellert? "Grindelwald didn't mark you."

"Played dead..."

Then the Auror grabbed Dumbledore's wrist. "Come close," he whispered.

"Yes?"

"What have you done?"

"What do you mean?"

"You let him loose. Why?"

"How do you know?"

"I didn't." The Auror revealed a bloodied grin. "Just a hunch... Shall I call you, Mr Cicen?"

Dumbledore looked at the Auror's hand around his wrist. It tightened.

"Your secret… will die with me. Tell me."

"I made a deal with the devil to end this war."

The Auror laughed and blood poured out of his mouth. "No. You are the devil," he hissed into his ear.

Dumbledore pulled away and watched the Auror gargle mid laughter before dying.

"You are the devil..."

He closed his eyes. Green eyes stared back in the darkness. It was a darkness filled with suffering and bitterness.

"I did what you asked me to do, but you still betrayed me..." Dumbledore kept those words guarded in his heart.

"Albus. Albus? What did he say?" Arthur asked.

He jolted. Dumbledore hesitated briefly, rubbing his chin, letting his shortly cropped white beard tickle his hand. Then relief flooded into his body at the thought of the Auror dead now. "The Order is in danger."

"When aren't we?"

A large ragged dog Patronus padded into the room. "Harry's returned. Chickens in chaos—Potters—Come quick."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, feeling a mixture of pity and anger.

Then they all vanished with a pop.

(******)

Remus helped Lily up the stairs and made sure that she didn't look back. "I think we all need a nice strong cup of tea," he added.

"Firewhiskey—"

She froze, shoulders tensing. He followed her gaze and saw Dumbledore. He was across the living room, staring at them with mistrust.

"Dare I ask what has happened here?"

No one spoke.

A/N: The code word for an Order of the Phoenix member(s) in trouble is 'chickens'

4. Fly

Fly

"What have you done to him?" As Dumbledore asked, Kingsley and Arthur appeared. "Revenge is all too easy in this day and age, and a little restraint goes a long way."

They all shifted uneasily. There was a fierce chill radiating from Dumbledore's figure.

"Are you all OK? Is he hurt?" Kingsley asked.

"We're fine," Remus quickly replied. "The boy is too."

"And James?" Dumbledore questioned.

Lily sighed. "Brooding alone… Hello Arthur, any word from Molly about my boys?"

Arthur took off his travelling cloak and placed it over his arm. He adjusted his lopsided glasses over his kindly face. "I'm sure they're fine. Molly, on the otherhand..."

"Come everyone, let's talk." The old headmaster moved away.

They sat down in the kitchen and Dumbledore waved his wand behind his shoulder, setting the kettle to work over the stove. He then closed his eyes, tapping his fingers together. "We are still not sure what occurred at Azkaban."

"Most of the escaped Death Eaters were once abducted children," Lily retorted.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her. "But they're killers now." He took a seat right next to Remus. His cut lip was all healed up now. "We better go look for James after this meeting," he whispered.

Remus nodded, but he knew where James was. "Next time, we better keep him calm."

Sirius' eyes flashed, much to the werewolf's annoyance. "You try telling him that."

"You too, Sirius."

"Alright," he exasperated. "I agree, we went a bit too far—"

"Just a bit?"

"Look, he's alright, so let's move on and get him back to prison."

"How did he arrive here?" Dumbledore asked, cutting through the chatter.

Remus breathed in sharply and focused on the Order members. More would arrive shortly. At least the select few Dumbledore would've invited to this meeting.

"He said he Portkeyed with this book." Lily disappeared to retrieve the Portkey. She walked into the kitchen holding a large leather tome and placed it on the table. "And we can't open it."

Dumbledore snatched it up, holding it close to his long, crooked nose. He squinted, turning the book this way and that, as though he was trying to discover microscopic evidence. "Where did he Portkey from?"

Lily gave a humourless laugh and went into detail about how Harry had told them that he had come from a Mirror Universe. "He even had to cheek to ask me the names of his brothers. I know what those Atoners do in Azkaban ever since the Dementors were kicked out, but I thought… I wanted to believe they weren't true." She looked concerned. "He seems a little bit… unsettled."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose for a long moment before he stared at the book again. "Is there anything else, anything unusual in demeanour or appearance? Something that might suggest the Atoners had damaged him?"

"He says he has a curse scar," Remus added. This 'insane' theory was starting to look more and more plausible. "It's shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead."

"Interesting..."

Remus explained the story of how it happened. "And personally, I think an Atoner did that."

"The reports don't state that he has a curse scar on his forehead," Kingsley added.

Dumbledore grew tense. "I don't think it's cursed. I think he was injured during the breakout when half the prison section was destroyed. He has decided to play us for fools."

Lily looked absolutely shocked and terrified by Remus's information. "Why didn't you tell me, Remus?"

"Because he said you and James were dead."

"I'll need to see him," Dumbledore said, moving on from Remus and Lily's row.

"What are you going to ask him?" Remus questioned.

"Not much tonight." He played with his moustache, thinking. "He is a skilled Occlumens. When he has allowed me into his mind, I can not tell if what I see is truth or lies. I cannot believe anything he says anymore, even with the aid of Veritiserum. I taught him a technique Aurors learn to overcome the effects of truth potions."

Sirius nudged Remus hard as though they had been given a scrap of interesting news. It was the first time Dumbledore spoke openly about his relationship with Harry with the Order.

It was the period after Dumbledore lost his battle with Voldemort that Harry began to change dramatically. But in Harry's fifth year, his power grew beyond Dumbledore's expectations and he became secretive, quiet, fell out with friends and grew so very angry. It also didn't help that he was a Death Eater as they then soon discovered.

"We may have to use more extreme measures if he fails to comply," Kingsley said.

"Then I fear for him." Dumbledore frowned.

"The alarm hadn't been tripped when he arrived here," Lily added, growing paler by the second.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "The alarms can be flawed. Harry can—"

"Manipulate them," finished Lily, dryly.

Remus noticed Dumbledore was looking more and more perplexed. He tapped his fingers on the book.

"Now, where's the wand he used?"

Lily took it out of her robe sleeve. "It's Holly and Phoenix feather."

Dumbledore gently took the wand, caressing it like a rare, precious object. "His Mage magic still needs controlling. I told him that."

"He also had a charmed pouch around his neck, which I can't open." Lily dropped the pouch onto the table in front of them so that everyone could see it clearly.

"This might be easier to open."

"Why?" said Remus, watching Dumbledore flick his wand, bathing the pouch in a golden glow.

"I sense weaker magic, to be more exact, normal magic." He then pulled out the bits and pieces hidden within it: A Snitch fluttered feebly about in his hand, then a shard of mirror, and a burnt and broken gold locket. There was also a letter Lily had once written to Sirius during the dark year they had hidden away from Voldemort in fear that he would kill them because of the prophecy.

"Well, I always had this feeling that it was Harry who raided Grimmauld Place," Sirius said. He gave Lily the letter again and she perused through it in silence.

"The mirror…" Remus held the sharp jagged piece in his hands. It was the same sort of magical mirror he had used in Hogwarts to communicate with James, Sirius and Peter. Except now, there was no one friendly to communicate with.

"We'll keep that for the Order, in case the Death Eaters try to communicate with Harry." Kingsley nodded.

Dumbledore seemed disinterested in the useless artefacts, except for the Snitch, which he held up to light, and the broken locket, which he caressed in the palm of his hand.

Remus stood up, told everyone he needed a bit of fresh air, and slipped out of the house. He was itching to see if James was all right.

He travelled through a thicket of brambles in the backyard and past a wild bush of roses. And through a rusted gate he walked a long a cobbled path, covered with thousands of clovers. The trees around him had been here for centuries, their gnarled roots creating homes for many fairies. They were inquisitive this evening and had come out to witness him walking by. Gnomes nearby were ripping up shrubs; they turned around and grunted at his approach.

This had been Charlie's favourite part of the yard.

Remus ignored the magical creatures until he finally discovered what he had been searching for. Behind an enormous yew tree laid the private burial plot of his godson, with a white marble tombstone, covered with fresh flowers.

Here lies

Charlie Ignotus Potter

Born: 4-6-1982

Death: 2-6-1997

Taken by the blow of evil

Forever innocent in a world of darkness

Charlie had been a quiet boy of a studious nature. He was a stocky child, with black hair and hazel eyes. He loved the wonders of nature and studied magical animals with zeal and was Luna Lovegood's best friend. They would often explore the Hogwarts grounds in search of these creatures.

Staring at the tombstone was James. Remus stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, hearing his friend sniffle.

"What?" James snapped.

"I want to see if you're—"

"Leave."

Remus backed away and let the silence envelop them.

"He was studying to become an Animagus."

"Yes." Remus whispered. He knew that James would've thought this was one of his proudest moments of being a parent.

"I asked him to keep it secret. But I knew he was going to tell you."

"He couldn't wait to show me." Remus smiled sadly.

"Out of all the kids, Charlie was the least like me and Lily, you know. But when he asked me how to become one, I was over the moon. He was the first and only one to ask me about it."

"So far..."

Tears glistened in James's eyes. "He—he almost got it right. He was almost a fully formed boar. I even dreamt of galloping through Godric's Hollow as Prongs, with his son Hogs by his side."

"Hogs…" Remus repeated in a whisper, remembering the animal with a big wet snout and sharp tasks.

"Harry. Harry never asked. I always thought he would."

Remus held his breath. This was the first time James had spoken again about Harry like the lost son he was, and not as a despised murderer.

"Harry looks like me the most, but he was Lily's," James touched his heart. "I had so much hope for him. He had so much potential. We all knew he would be a great wizard. He was powerful in defence… he wanted to fight them." He wiped a few stray tears on his sleeve.

"I know."

"We fought to not let him go. We dreaded the day Dumbledore was ready to train him. Lily desperately clung to him—to protect him, but he was determined to fulfill his part of the prophecy and we couldn't stop him.

"So why would he turn his back on us? Was it because he was cursed as a Mage? We should've had snuffed it out of him as a child when we discovered it." There was a deep, desperate longing in his voice as he rambled on.

"James, you can't stop a person being who they truly are—"

"He was such a good kid. He even cared about the house elves being tortured! I just don't understand. Why?"

Remus ached so much for him. "Nobody understands."

Then James broke down.

He walked up to the grieving father and laid a hand on his back. He wanted to make it all better, but Remus was only a humble wizard.

"Charlie would've wanted you to move forward, not dwell in the past and dreams that could've been."

James blinked at the tombstone, swatting away a fallen leaf on the marble. "You're right. I feel so disgusted that I did that to Harry. I-I just snapped. There was so much anger, so much hurt and… and I felt that words wouldn't have been enough," he sobbed.

"I know.

"I'm so sorry. I'll never do that again."

"Come on, let's go back in."

James sighed, wiped the last of his tears and got up.

They joined the Order meeting now brimming with more members, and ignored the glare from Lily and the worried glance from Sirius. Dumbledore merely flicked his gaze upon them, before they continued their discussion on the other missing Death Eaters, and how to interrogate Harry.

Meanwhile, they were all unaware that there was someone outside the kitchen, silently opening the basement door.

(******)

Tap, tap, tap…

Harry groaned. Leave me alone, he thought. He just wanted peace and a nice dream.

Tap… tap.

He opened his eyes to darkness and silence. He coughed and spluttered, rolling onto his side.

"Are you awake?"

He jolted when something—a tiny hand perhaps—touched his shoulder, fumbling a bit in the process.

"Harry…" The voice was familiar.

He relaxed, though still breathing in huge gulps.

"Its m-me, Jessica."

"Why—?" He coughed. "Why did you come in here?" What would James do if he found out? He licked his parched lips, trying to pinpoint where the little girl's face was. He didn't like the dark, not when he was held as a captive.

"You told me you'd see me again."

"You shouldn't be here," Harry wheezed.

Harry pulled back a little when her cold hand touched his face. Her hand sprung away.

"D-Dumbledore's upstairs. I hate Order meetings… I hate our brothers. They're always playing tricks on me now. I wished you never went to Azkaban."

For Harry, listening to this little girl pour out her heart to him like a cherished doll, made him feel terribly awkward.

Jessica sniffled. "I've missed you. You are the only one in this family who likes me. Mummy and Daddy are too busy all the time with the war, and they're always fighting with each other. It's worse now since Charlie died. Mike and Chris used to prank Charlie… remember that?"

"Maybe."

"They never bothered with you, because you were the oldest and really good at spells. You've got good reflexes. That's what Daddy used to say when he talked about Quidditch."

Harry noticed how monotone her voice was. There was something peculiar with the little girl, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Daddy was really disappointed when you resigned from your Gryffindor Seeker position."

"I did?" The words escaped him before he could stop them.

"Daddy wrote you a Howler in your third year, remember?"

"Really? Jessica, why did I resign?"

"Some say it was because you were training to be a Death Eater. Still, your reply was funny."

"What did I say?"

"You said that there were bigger things to worry about. The letter had a curse in it, and it turned Daddy into a giant Snitch. It was so funny."

Harry thought about the powerful magic his Mirror had used. Even at thirteen he had displayed signs of great power. He himself had mastered the Patronus Charm at that age, but he wasn't that talented with transfiguration then.

The little girl stopped speaking, but Harry had many more questions.

"What was Charlie like? I can't remember, you see."

"Charlie was always in his books. He used to hug me tight and tickle me. But Chris and Mike pranked him all the time. He didn't like that much. Now it's only me. They play jokes on me. I don't like that."

"I think they're just trying to make you smile. There's no harm in that."

"I don't like it," she repeated, "I could curse them. But I've been very good, Harry, like you told me to. I haven't forgotten your words, remember?"

This randomly intriguing conversation was turning a little too scary for him.

A bright light suddenly blinded him. The girl held a lit wand to her side. Harry backed away. Was this her vengeance now? He had already suffered his father's.

"How do you—?" He couldn't understand how a little girl knew so much magic. Would the Ministry of Magic swoop down and punish her?

"Remus and Sirius have been teaching us magic, don't you remember? The Ministry dropped the age again after Hogwarts closed so children over five are all taught at home. Sometimes we learn in groups with other kids from the Order. We have to… It's to prepare us for the bad things out there… I train with Timothy Bracken from up the road."

"Tell me more."

"You really don't remember much, do you?" Jessica said slowly, sucking in air between her large front teeth.

He could see her face now, almost that of a ghost's, all white, and her eyes reflected his face like a mirror. She reminded him of the Grey Lady who stalked the castle late at night. She was always sobbing, but her eerie sounds and monotone words stuck to the walls like moss.

"Did they do really nasty things to you in Azkaban?"

"Yes," he guessed.

"Mummy and Daddy won't talk to me about it. But I heard stuff. I sometimes listen to them talking."

"Like what?"

She shrugged in the light of the wand without a single blink.

"I heard that the Aurors are very bad. And the Atoners are the worst part of it all."

"I'm sure they are... Listen Jessica, please tell your parents that I'm from a Mirror Universe," he finally said. "I'm not your brother."

She smiled. "I'm not stupid. You're my Harry. I've heard people say you're crazy."

"Sorry, Jessica." Harry was a little unnerved by her confidence. "Tell me what you know about the Atoners... I've forgotten."

"Sirius said they're a second class of Aurors. They are criminals working for Umberige… very bad people, who, instead of going to prison, work with the Ministry to keep the bad prisoners scared."

Harry scowled at the thought of Umbridge having a tight hold on power here.

"Harry did you see child prisoners in Azkaban?"

"No." Harry shrugged.

"Dumbledore doesn't like that You-Know-Who's child soldiers are kept there. He's had lots of fights with the Minister about it."

Harry did not like the sound of this world one bit. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.

Then she sighed. "I missed you so much."

"Me too," Harry gulped.

"Do you remember that picnic and when we played in the woods at the end of Godric's Hollow? Mummy and Daddy were happy. Charlie was alive and you were there. We played football and then I got bored and got lost in the woods…" She sighed. "I thought I'd never go home… never see you all again.

"But you found me, Harry, and you smiled. That was the last time you smiled. You took me back home. You never let go of my hand..."

Tears began to glisten in her pale eyes. "Mummy and Daddy fight and cry all the time. Then Mummy always tests my hair every day, but she won't tell me why. She always looks scared to be with me after she does it. I can't see well, but I still see. Why does she test my hair, Harry? She started doing it after Hogwarts closed. Is there something else wrong with me? Is it the black that smells of death?"

The black that smells of death…? "I don't know," answered Harry, a bit concerned for her now.

"You always tell me you don't know, but I know you do," she sniffled.

He watched the little girl blink slowly, tongue running over her large teeth.

"Jessica, Mum and Dad love you very much. Mum is just doing that to make sure that you're okay."

"You… you think so?"

Harry nodded.

"But—but they don't love you. They hate you. Everyone does."

"I did something bad. But they love you very much," he repeated.

Those words had an effect on Jessica, more than Harry could've imagined. She seemed to relax, her ghostly complexion warming a little.

"I'm sorry, Harry, for everything. I'll continue to be good when you're gone."

This was it, he thought suddenly. All the thoughts of the little girl vanished and in came the possibility of dying or being injured. He wasn't sure how experienced in spells the girl was. And in any case, what could she do?

Instead, Jessica dropped the lit wand by his side and stood up carefully, hands feeling the wall so she could balance properly.

"I got your wand. Mummy kept it hidden from everyone. You better go."

Was the girl letting him escape? "I can't just go."

"You have to."

"I need to speak with Dumbledore!"

"They will hurt you, Harry," she warned.

"I don't believe that."

"Dumbledore will make you talk. He doesn't like being lied to."

"I can show him my mind."

"It won't matter, Harry. Dumbledore will never trust what you show him. You hide your secrets. They'll lock you away again. I've heard Mummy takes care of Death Eater prisoners that the Order has tortured."

Gob smacked by the turn of events Harry watched the little girl go up the stairs. She left, leaving the door open a touch so that he could see the light shining through.

Harry's heart was beating so hard it was in danger of blasting out of his chest and bouncing onto the dusty floor. He could free himself and run, but where to? I'll hide out, then maybe go to The Giant's Cut and figure out a way home, or maybe somehow communicate with Dumbledore on my terms.

She left the door open for me. This is my chance...

No, I can't leave.

Harry's shaking hand reached out for the wand. It looked familiar, and as soon as he had touched it a strange buzz radiated from his fingertips, filling his entire body. He let out a small gasp.

The wand was made of yew. And he instinctively knew it was a Yew and Phoenix feather wand.

Horror-struck, he dropped it. Why was it his wand?

There is no time to worry about it! Harry berated himself.

He hesitated. He couldn't leave without pleading his innocence. "No, this isn't right. I can't escape. I need to go home." What if the Order was setting a trap for him?

This world was too dangerous to escape into nonetheless. Harry would rather face a terrorising Order, than deal with Voldemort and his army and whatever other evil this world had.

He'll demand to speak with Dumbledore and go from there.

Making up his mind, Harry closed the door Jessica left open, or there would be repercussions for him. For now, he needed to act like a good, obedient prisoner and win them over with his story.

Left in complete darkness because the light fitting had no bulb, Harry wordlessly thought, Lumos. He was getting better at non-verbal spells, however now, this spell which he had preformed a thousand times failed to ignite. "Lumos!" he said loudly. A weak light sprouted from the wand.

Harry frowned. His magic was being supressed because he was the Harry Potter the charms worked against. But the magic also recognised that he was different and that he wasn't one of the Màgos (A Mage).

Harry was able to walk his way around the basement, exploring, before hiding the wand beneath a carton of owl treats.

He sat near it and waited.

(******)

"It's settled then," Dumbledore said.

"I still don't think this is right," James said out loud, playing with his glass of Firewhiskey. The ice within it had already melted. He felt so uneasy.

"James, we need to decipher where the boy's loyalties lie and his motives. We never had the opportunity."

"Still a waste of time," said Sirius, crossing his arms as he rocked back on his chair. "He was uncooperative in Azkaban, so there's no way he'll start talking now—"

"Yeah, not unless we torture him," Tonks said. "I've been taught a few good curses at work. Head Auror MacCloud is making us learn them."

"Nymphadora, that technique will only be used as our final resort." Dumbledore wasn't impressed as he darkly glared at her. "Kingsley, I want the Order's interrogation tactics reviewed. We are getting a bit heavy-handed with our captives as of late."

"Sure thing, Dumbledore," the dark Auror replied.

"Whatever we do, it won't work on him anyways," said Sirius. "Besides he sounds a bit mental now. I'd be too, if I was stuck in Azkaban with that mob."

Dumbledore nodded. "It's plausible that he's been damaged whilst in Azkaban. If he is broken, we may be able to help him come back to us."

"After all he did?" James scraped his chair back, pointing his finger towards a happy portrait of Charlie sitting on top of a cabinet. The black-haired boy waved to them all. Wisdom twinkled in his hazel eyes.

Charlie had had the worst sense of humour of all in the family. Even though he was the least like his parents, the boy was more like his grandfather Harry, who had been a portly man with the trademark knobbly knees of the Potters. Harry had had an immense library of old books in his house, all musty and worn out from being reread hundreds of times.

He died when James was young, though he could still remember sitting on his lap, listening to the rosy-cheeked old man read him the story of the Deathly Hallows. He remembered the perfectly trimmed white walrus moustache, with only a hint of black still in it, while his hair was completely white and stuck up at odd angles.

Dumbledore didn't blink. "We will never forget."

Professor Flitwick tapped his fingers on his chin. "But, what if what Harry says is true? What if he is a Mirror Harry Potter? Do you want to condemn an innocent boy?"

"It's so rare it's ludicrous to even suggest that we believe this story," Arthur pointed out, patting his shiny forehead with a serviette. James wholly agreed with him.

"I agree with Dad," Bill added. "It's unlikely that anyone could travel into a Mirror Universe these days… once in a thousand years, maybe. There's no recorded history of it, only stories from around the world. You should know—"

"But such travel is possible. Why else would Ministries outlaw it?" squeaked Flitwick. "There is one legend that happened here."

"Yeah? I don't remember learning about it," James retorted.

"Well that's because it is a legend most Ravenclaws fiercely protect."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "Filius, please—"

"Rowena Ravenclaw liked to experiment with Mirror travel in a cave, somewhere in the Highlands. No one has ever found it though."

"Hang on," Remus interrupted, "Harry said he was looking for a diadem in a cave before he was transported here. What if it was that cave—?"

"A diadem?" blurted Flitwick. "Ravenclaw had a diadem as well—"

"Stop and listen to me, all of you." Dumbledore held his hand up and regarded them all carefully. "Harry is a very resourceful, intelligent boy. He knows how to thwart us."

"I'm surprised he wasn't put in Slytherin then," Sirius added.

"Would you be shocked, if I said the Sorting Hat almost placed him there? But the Hat also said he would've done well in the other houses too." Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid I did train him in the arts of manipulation, and to seduce with lies. I also trained him to investigate as an Auror would. He knew about this legend because I told him… I told him of many others about the Hogwarts founders, and it seems he has used this particular story to great effect this evening."

James ran a finger on the rim of his cold glass, wondering how legends of the founders would be useful in the war. He knew there was so much Dumbledore wasn't telling them about Harry. James wished he had been more totalitarian in getting his son to spill the truth about what he was doing for Dumbledore.

A clock chimed somewhere within the house as Flitwick sneezed rather loudly. Dumbledore placed the book which Harry had brought with him carefully beneath the table and onto his lap.

"I am sure Harry has made this story up to gain our sympathy. Two plausible theories I reinstate to you all: One, this may be Voldemort's plan for the boy to attack us as we help him. Or two, Harry has genuinely become unstable, and this story of Mirror travel is a figment of his broken mind."

Kingsley agreed. "Harry's not mentally well. In the last few Azkaban reports, he has attacked prisoners and graffitied his cell walls with blood."

"Oh God!" Lily whispered, suddenly gripping James's arm.

"Others have gone completely insane. In the most recent example, Umbridge—"

"Kingsley, don't say anymore. I don't… I don't want to know what they've done to him," Lily said.

"But they deserve what they get," Sirius spat. "Do you think those prisoners cared when they tortured or murdered their victims?"

"There is a line we must draw," Remus said. "When Aurors and Atoners… and Order members act like the worst of the Death Eaters then they're no better themselves." Remus shot Tonks a reproachful look. But she still looked unfazed about using torture, in James's opinion.

"Being on our side doesn't make them right in whatever action they choose fit. Otherwise there's no difference between good and evil," Dumbledore said.

Kingsley shook his head gloomily. "I've seen some of my men change, especially the new Aurors. They want to do good, protect people, serve out justice. Then they slowly change once they've seen the corruption and evil within the Ministry. They bribe, torture and blackmail and have even killed in cold blood. We can't question it or we'd end up in Azkaban."

"It was only a suggestion," griped Tonks. James saw her hair turning mousey brown.

Kingsley bowed his head. The Auror was one of a few wizards in the Order still firmly rooted within the Ministry.

Dumbledore clasped his hands. "So we will question him, hopefully without drastic measures, and then hand him over to the Aurors of Nurmengard. His treatment there will be more humane."

The rest who had joined for the meeting agreed.

"Tonight I will be the only one to speak with him." The headmaster got up, ending the meeting. Everyone burst into conversation amongst themselves.

"James." Dumbledore placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, steering him away from the small group. "I'm worried about you. It's a shock, I know, seeing Harry back."

He was hot-headed and reacted too fast, but he didn't want to dwell on what he had done. "Albus, what if we can't open that book because Harry is hiding something in it?"

"I'm going to investigate that and the stolen wand too."

"Are we sure that this boy isn't a Mirror?"

"Quite sure. Many people in Azkaban have lost their minds. I knew one who thought she was Cleopatra reincarnated."

He thought Dumbledore was right as James had the sudden urge to sneeze. When James's brain started functioning again, the hair on the back of his neck was rising. He did not feel right as they passed the locked basement door. Dumbledore stopped talking and stared it for a moment, before whipping out his wand.

(*)

As Harry heard voices upstairs again, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt the air within the basement ripple. It was a strange sensation but there was power behind it. Harry's alertness doubled. Something dangerous was about to happen.

BOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!

"What the?" The Potter's house shuddered and dust and debris fell onto Harry's head as the shouting began upstairs.

Harry snatched the wand, Lumos. This time the spell ignited perfectly and it brightly lit the room.

"HE'S ESCAPING! Surround the perimetre."

The enchantments have been removed, thought Harry. But by who, was the question.

He heard people shouting, desperately trying to open the door or break it down.

"He's magicked the door shut," boomed Kingsley.

Harry rushed to the stairs as he heard and saw cracks appearing in the basement wall.

BOOOOOOM!

A fierce blast ripped through the basement. The tiny window shattered and bricks and soil was propelled outside into the open air, not into the basement. The direction of the blast was occurring the wrong way, even though the attack was from the outside.

A second later, the door was launched off its hinges and spells corralled down towards him through the thick dust.

He fell against the stair rail in shock, shielding his face as wizards began flinging spells at him. Protego! These weren't just the usual benign Defence and Offensive spells, these were curses. He was a sitting duck as his shield began to disintegrate with the hits, and he was horrified that this universe's Order was definitely a mean one.

"Don't attack!" Harry yelled, "I'm not him."

"DON'T LISTEN TO HIM. HE'LL TRICK US!"

It left Harry with no choice. MOVE!

"He's getting away!"

Expulso! The bottom stairs exploded and a few Order members fell off the side, screaming.

Harry dodged the spells and bolted towards the exposed hole, leading up into the unknown. Spells outside, aimed at the hole were filtering in now. Stupefy! "STOP! IT'S NOT ME—" He yelled when a well aimed spell cut into his shoulder. That's it, stop talking and move. He was midway out of the hole when Dumbledore called.

"HARRY, DO NOT ESCAPE!"

"THEN STOP ATTACKING ME!"

"CEASEFIRE," Dumbledore ordered.

Harry looked up and in the moment that all spells had ceased, and the air cleared, he saw the old wizard's blue eyes and something within him stirred. It was a hatred he had never envisioned experiencing. Something rippled inside his mind and in a momentarily lapse of control, he slashed his wand at the Hogwarts Headmaster and the jet of an unknown red curse, forced Dumbledore to enact a Protection Shield around himself.

The shield reverberated as the Order members began throwing spells at him again.

What made me attack Dumbledore?

Harry had no time to dissect his actions. Protego! He climbed out of the hole and ran for dear life, flinging more curses as the Order members outnumbered him outside too. Spells crisscrossed the air and his body, missing him by inches.

"HARRRRRRYYYYY! STOP!"

"Stupefy! Stupefy," Harry yelled slashing behind him. He jumped the Potter's stone wall and ran into the graveyard that was close by, tripping over A hidden, broken tombstone. The shield dissolved in an instant, leaving him exposed.

A spell cracked through the air and Harry yelled. His ankle was broken. He heard the Order members closing their distance. Harry looked back. Shivering, in terror, he Apparated the hell out of there.

5. Fugitives

Fugitives

The strange Weasley family clock tick-tocked innocently. However, all the Weasleys' names on the clock were pointed towards the words, Mortal Peril, even though many were sitting safely in the living room with Michael Potter and his brother Christopher.

Ginny and Ron were laid out on the carpet playing wizard chess. Twins, Fred and George were experimenting on a new joke item for their Double Trouble Weasleys mail order. Bill had recently returned from Egypt, working for Gringotts. He brought over his wife, Wadid, and children home with him. She sat in the kitchen with their baby Miriam and toddler Sarah. The children giggled and squealed as they played with their mother, unaware of the gloomy mood around them.

Mrs Weasley busied herself by cleaning everything in the house thrice. Mr Weasley, Charlie and Percy had not returned yet, making her rather waspish to everyone, especially after her messages remained unanswered.

The Potter boys had darker hair than the fiery red of the Weasleys. Michael was the tallest and he looked more like their father. He wore oval rimmed glasses that were always smudged, and his hair stuck up at the back. He blinked, trying to keep his tired eyes open. His arm was leisurely pulled over the side of the couch, fingers tearing a hole in the fabric. He took a moment to gaze at his little brother, who was now falling asleep.

Christopher didn't wear glasses, but his hair was completely untameable. He had attributes from both their parents and was extremely freckly.

"You alright there, Chris?" Michael smacked his brother awake.

Startled, the younger boy woke and looked for danger. "WHAT?"

"Mike, was that necessary?" Ginny said reproachfully. Ron merely snorted as he moved his pawn a square.

Christopher crinkled his nose. "Prat!"

Michael stifled a yawn. "Are you alright?" he repeated in a whisper. "I don't like it when you're quiet like this."

"I hate it here." The younger brother shrugged. "I wish we were back in New Zealand."

"I'd rather be back in Fiji with those mermaids again." Michael reminisced. "But I think six weeks away was long enough. I was missing Mum and Jess, and we could never talk to them properly, other than in code, in our Floo chats. It was exhausting."

"Six weeks isn't long enough for me. I still have nightmares about my near abduction… and that Death Eater Sirius killed that day." He shivered.

"I know."

"I was beginning to feel better until Harry escaped. Now we're bloody back here."

"I can't believe he escaped," Michael said out loud, his hands scrunching into fists. If he ever saw Harry again, he'd kill him. He wasn't as powerful as his eldest brother, but Ginny taught him a wicked Bat Bogey Hex that'd subdue him.

"Me neither," Ron sighed. "How the hell did he get out?"

"The Head Warden of Azkaban," Fred called over, "probably had Harry doing lap dances for her, and he found a way out of her office."

"Don't joke about Umbridge!" Ron scowled at him.

Fred shrugged. "Eh, it's just a story I heard."

"Did you hear that's she's become Senior Undersecretary since the resignation of Barty Crouch Senior?" George asked.

"Oh," Christopher replied curiously. "Why did he—?"

"'Bout a month before you guys left, Umbridge wasn't happy that the father of a big name Death Eater had held a major position for so long. Besides, he was going a bit loopy. Percy thinks he was being poisoned."

"I bet it was Umbridge poisoning him," George added.

"I think power has gotten to her head," Ginny looked up. "How many titles can this woman hold? Is she still heading the Interrogation and the Prevention of Crime and Sedition Department?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, and if Head Auror Thomas MacCloud isn't careful, she'd take over his job too."

"Nah, that wouldn't happen. MacCloud is smart, merciless, and just as cruel as she is. The two of them are meant for each other." Fred made a disgusting kissing gesture.

Michael shuddered to think of the sadistic monster babies the two of them could make. "At this rate, Umbridge could be Minister one day."

"Shhhhh!" Ron spat at him, looking suddenly alarmed.

"What?"

"Soon, any conversations against the Minister will become Taboo."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I hate to think of the Aurors busting into The Burrow and arresting us because we don't like the big bad Minister. Could you imagine us being labeled Ministry Rebels and sent to Azkaban without a trial?"

"Everyone in the Order is a Ministry Rebel," George said darkly.

Ron shook a chess piece at her. "We also thought a lot of other fucked up stuff wouldn't happen... like creating a spell that breaches the Fidelius Charm whenever something serious happens in a household."

"Yeh," Michael said darkly, remembering the Aurors showing up after Harry had killed Charlie. "I'd bet Voldemort would love to get his hands on that counter-charm."

"Scrimgeour is the only one who knows that spell anyway. He activates it himself. I've been told that it's so Dark, it's frying his brain," Ron said.

"I've always wondered why Scrimgeour is so paranoid," Michael wondered out loud.

"You'd really know if you had ever paid attention whenever Remus teaches us," Ginny rolled her eyes. "He was forced to watch his family get murdered seventeen years ago. He believes the Ministry is his inheritance, and that the European nations want to takeover. Then he ripped apart Ministry departments and disposed of all Heads who opposed him."

"Almost three decades can warp the way a nation thinks," Ron replied morosely.

"Anyway, I'm done talking." Ginny stood up from the chess game and stretched. "You've won anyway, Ron."

"When have I ever lost?"

She huffed before looking over Michael's way, catching his eye. Ginny was pretty good looking and he knew Harry had once had a crush on her, though she had rejected his advances quite a few times. This gave Michael great satisfaction. Good sense, that girl.

"Right, you lot," Mrs Weasley said as she walked into the room, charming a large tray filled with cups of tea and scones to hover in front of her.

Bill's wife walked in behind. Wadid, a Curse Breaker just like Bill, was an olive-skinned witch with brown almond-shaped eyes. Her thick hair was dark and held back with a blue sash. She held onto Miriam after putting Sarah to sleep.

"They're bad sleepers," Wadid spoke in her thick Egyptian accent, as Miriam began to wake. Her big blue eyes scanned the room, before deciding to close them again. "But they need their sleep before I leave for Egypt in the morning."

Mrs Weasley squeezed her arm. "Must you go?"

"I need to go back to work, and I want my children to see the sun. The mist here is suffocating."

Mrs Weasley sighed. "Yes, well, let's have some tea and call it a night." Pouring the tea, she turned to Michael and Chris, passing them a cup each.

"Mum, How long do you think the Order will keep Harry?" Ginny asked.

Mrs Weasley straightened up; she looked a little reluctant to say anything at first. "I don't know much. It's best to ask your father when he arrives." Mrs Weasley glared at her daughter before suddenly changing the subject. "Boys, you'll be sleeping here tonight, just to be on the safe side. You can bunk in Bill's room."

"But Mum," the twins protested, "they can sleep in our—"

"I want everyone to sleep soundly. No more discussion about the war!"

The Potter boys bade good night to the Weasleys and headed off to bed.

"I wish they'd tell us something," Chris said as he pulled off his shoes, jumping into bed. "Just because we're kids doesn't mean we should be kept in the dark. I mean, is it so hard for them to Floo us a message?"

"No news is good news." Michael summoned a cot out of a cupboard. He flicked his wand at a pile of linen to make it fly. They only fell into a heap onto the bed. He attempted some hospital corners, but gave up on his second try.

Chris watched on. "You're great with joke spells, but you suck at household stuff."

"Git." Michael flung himself onto the springy cot, throwing the blankets over himself.

"How do you reckon the little Newt is coping?"

Michael frowned. "I don't know… She kept talking about Harry, cats, and about some weird black thing before we went away."

Jessica had once been a curious little sister, always following Harry around and occasionally Charlie as well. She loved to laugh and play with her dolls and pretend she was the greatest Auror in the world. Now, since the incident, she would stare at the wall with her white eyes, playing with her hair. She spoke in a way that made Michael so uncomfortable to be around her.

A dark thought crept into Michael's mind. "I hope Harry hasn't hurt anyone. Shit, if I ever see him again, I'm prepared."

"You'll be dead the second you lift your w-wand," yawned Chris.

Michael was fourteen and knew quite a bit when it came to defence. Though his parents thought he needed to learn more. He only had a couple of more years before he'd be allowed to join the Order and fight.

"Anyway… night. I'm sure Dad will come around early tomorrow and take us home and we'll hear all about it then."

Chris sighed, looking extremely sullen at the thought of going home. "I s'pose so."

Michael whipped out his wand from his trouser pocket, placing it underneath his pillow. They were always vigilant, just as Mad-Eye Moody had taught them before he had met a gruesome end at the hands of a Death Eater on New Years Eve. He morbidly wondered where Death Eater Olive Dreadford had tattooed Moody's name on her body. She'd tattoo the names of her victims after every kill.

He fell asleep instantly, though his dreams were very troubled indeed, filled with green lights and Dreadford carving Harry's name on Michael's face.

(******)

When Harry woke up, there were a few things which bothered him. For one, he wondered why he was sleeping inside a dark, damp cave. Shouldn't he be asleep in a tent with his friends? Second of all, his ankle was stiff and swollen. Then of course he remembered as he looked around and listened vaguely to water droplets falling nearby.

He had escaped, his ankle broken by a spell and even with the risk of being Splinched, he Apparated out of Godric's Hollow, after suddenly getting the urge to go to a cave in the Wiltshire region. He thought it was odd, as it wasn't a place he'd ever think of going to, but he didn't care as long as he was safe.

And what was scary was that he had attacked Dumbledore. It was as though he had no control over it. And the hate he experienced didn't feel like it had been his own. That wasn't me... but it wasn't the Imperious Curse.

He tested his ankle, prodding it with his wand so the swelling would subside again. He didn't know how long he could go on with his injury and wished he had taught himself some proper healing spells.

To his side, he located the branch he had used as a crutch. He would wait until dark to travel again and find a new place to hide, and decide how to approach Dumbledore, this time without an attack.

And speaking of those events, who broke him out of the basement? It felt like whoever did, wanted it to look like it was Harry who did it.

As the dark silence of the cave pressed in on him, Harry decided to have a closer inspection of the wand. The wood was smooth and well polished. He ran the facts inside his head: Yew and Phoenix feather. Voldemort's wand was thirteen and a half inches long. It was exactly the same. It troubled him, he even felt dirtied that he had Voldemort's wand.

A rock fell somewhere in the cave. Harry heard a noise that sounded like fabric rustling. "Who's there?"

He saw the outline of a figure camouflaged to look like the rocky wall. "Show yourself. I know you're there."

The figure stepped forward and the spell vanished, like someone had poured a bucket of water over the stranger's head to wash the charm away. The pallid, thin face of his Mirror stood in front of him.

Mirror Harry Potter was emaciated, wearing a rugged grey prison tunic, and his hair was long and dirty. It was much longer than Harry's. They were also exactly the same height. This world's Harry did not wear glasses, and his green eyes shone darkly.

Harry gaped, gripping the wall in shock and disbelief, all thoughts on his painful ankle in the back of his head now.

"Well, this is interesting," the boy said, an eyebrow disappearing beneath his fringe. He scanned every inch of Harry. The Death Eater did not attempt to hide his curiosity.

6. Mirror Image

Mirror Image

"Who are you?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," Mirror Harry said.

As Harry raised his wand the other boy froze. Then his mouth curved into a malicious smile.

"That's my wand!" There was a curious glint of victory in his eyes. "May I have a look at it?" His voice was smooth and polite like a bully asking a child for a sweet, one hand ready to snatch it out of their hands if they refused.

"Of course not!"

The Mirror swept his long, matted hair from his face, surveying the wand with hungry eyes. The boy had grown a sparse, fuzzy beard, and his lips were parched and covered with sores. The thin frayed tunic he wore hung on his bony shoulders. Harry wondered if the Mirror had ever seen sunshine. He looked like a vampire with his pale, translucent skin.

It felt surreal staring at him and it was startling, because it dictated how his life could've been, if fate had changed just a few little things. They looked exactly alike, right down to their long period of starvation and ruggedness. Yet there was something sinister about the Mirror.

"So, who are you?" the Mirror asked. Harry didn't answer.

"How did you escape?" Harry questioned.

The Mirror shrugged as he held an unblinking stare. If Harry was correct, his Mirror was trying to see inside his head for answers.

He'd been trying his best with Occlumency since escaping the basement. What surprised him was that he had been implementing it successfully, and it was now protecting him from his Mirror. He was shocked.

"Not as stupid as I thought..." the Mirror said, sitting down on a large rock. With a slight look of pain resting on his face, he stretched his back and arms.

Harry watched him, worried, though just as curious as the other boy was. This Mirror was so decrepit looking, indecent, with a sense of apathy and Dark power. Somehow this intrigued him. What happened to you?

"Very interesting," the Mirror pondered. "You still haven't answered my questions."

"Neither have you."

"Well, I'm Harry Potter," Mirror Harry drawled, rolling his eyes. "Almost every wizard, witch, being and creature has heard of me."

No differences there… "All for the wrong reasons, I presume."

The Mirror snorted. "And you? You look exactly like me, except you seem weaker, and you're wearing glasses. I haven't worn glasses for awhile," he added. "A very good disguise, nonetheless. I like the head scar by the way, nice touch. Makes me look more pathetic—"

"What? No," Harry said, smoothing down his fringe. He was a little put off by the description of himself. "No, I'm not a Polyjuiced wizard. I'm not anyone in disguise. I'm me! I'm from…"

The boy inhaled sharply. "If you look just like me–then what are you?" He took a moment to think, an expression of interest and disbelief washing over his face. "You're me from another— another world, a Mirror Universe, aren't you? You are a Mirror of me and I of you! This is insane!" There was excitement in his worn features.

Harry felt a sense of foreboding.

"Oh, come on!" The Mirror smiled. "Were you sent here deliberately by someone? Bet you it was that old fool."

Harry winced. Every time he thought of Dumbledore, he felt a pang of grief and anger.

"Hmmm, perhaps not," Mirror Harry thought out loud. "No. We can't pluck a person from another dimension into our own. You are usually pushed out by a magical force in your own world."

His tone and knowledge reminded Harry of Hermione.

"… And accidents are possible, but highly unlikely. It's very difficult to create a doorway between worlds, even by accident."

Harry's stomach made an unpleasant question now: how was he going to get back?

"So, Mirror, what's your opinion then?"

Harry contemplated the fact that Rowena Ravenclaw had created many portals with the books to see into Mirror Worlds. He remembered that there were many floating around, but only one had gravitated close enough to touch. Perhaps like a wand, the Mirror World had chosen him.

"You've let me down, Mirror brother. I was hoping that you'd be more like me… smart."

Ignoring the boy, Harry wondered if Ravenclaw was laughing in her grave, as she purposely sent unsuspecting visitors into other worlds never to return.

"If you don't answer me, I can make you." There was impatience in Mirror Harry's voice now. "I can hurt you."

An eerie familiarity prompted Harry to think that this person was like Tom Riddle. "Just like you hurt Jessica and Charlie?" Harry's fingers tightened around his wand.

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT THEM!"

"Does it bring back bad memories?" He made up his mind on the spot; this boy was as evil as they talked about.

"I don't like you very much," the Mirror sighed, almost like he was bored. "And I want my wand back."

"Why should I give it to you?" Harry held back his panic. "I thought you were a Mage, or has Azkaban—"

"ENOUGH! Don't talk about that!" The boy was breathing heavily now, hands curled into fists as he looked back and forth between Harry and the wand. "You leave that place out of this conversation. Now, pass me my wand."

"OK, but guess what? You're not getting your wand back."

Mirror Harry's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he silently laughed. "You're a weakling. You are nothing like me, Harry. I've been watching you and I followed you here last night."

"Followed me?" Harry spat. Oh, this is all making sense now, he thought, thinking of all the previous night's events.

"Directed you more like."

"So you blasted me out of the basement. Nice work... especially making it look like I did it all."

The Mirror chuckled at his brilliance. "Perhaps there is a brain cell or two in your scarred head."

"You used your Mage magic to make me come here! You made me attack Dumbledore."

"You were rather persistent in staying there. I had to make you leave," he smirked.

"Did you use some weird version of the Imperious Curse on me? It didn't feel like it. It felt like I was-"

"Someone else." The Mirror cocked his head. "And if I didn't plant a little seed in my sister's head, you'd still be wandless."

"You were watching your family. You were going to kill them!"

"Maybe," the boy shrugged, "and then my plan changed, thanks to you. I wanted to decipher what you are… and I must admit I'm rather disappointed."

"How did you control your sister without getting into the house?"

"I just can."

"She said that you'd see her again. Why?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Right... how did you control me?"

"We are Mirrors, the closer we are," the Mirror moved into Harry's personal space, "the stronger the magic."

Harry closed his eyes feeling that weird sensation in his mind again. He willed his newly formed barrier to strengthen.

The Mirror frowned and gave up.

"Why didn't you just get Jessica to open the front door and let you in?"

"Because that wasn't what I wanted to do. But enough about Jessica and my pathetic family," he said.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "We can leave your family out of this conversation, but I'd like to know your reasoning-"

"Mirror, even though looked deadly fascinating, you're a nobody here."

Harry stepped back, wanting to get further away from the boy. "At least I'm not a murderer."

Out of nowhere, a strong wind swirled around the Mirror, his power sparking like electricity. But before Harry could even flick his wand, a Protego shield ignited, enclosing him in a protective golden sphere.

"What the—?" the Mirror said in surprise.

Stupefy, Harry thought savagely, a little stunned with the Protego shield that he had conjured without the wand. It had happened with a mere thought, like instinct. The Death Eater dodged the spell, Disapparating on the spot and appearing right behind Harry.

Before Harry could return fire he was knocked cleanly off his feet, hitting the other end of the cave where the darkness was thick and the air humid. He lay dizzily on the ground, his ankle in excruciating pain now. He opened his eyes when someone crept to his side. He could see a pair of dirty feet and the Death Eater's tunic fluttering around his feet.

The boy knelt down slowly. "Where are you from? How did it happen? What is your world like?"

Harry ignored these questions, his mind still on his ankle.

"Perhaps, if you tell me, I can help you get back home."

A great shout of laughter escaped Harry's lips. "As if you would really help me! I don't trust anyone here, least of all you."

"Fine," he clicked his dirty fingers, "I want my wand back. I'll get it off of you even if I have to kill you for it."

"You don't need it."

"You don't either."

It took a moment to realise what those words meant. Harry thought about this for a second. He had never been able master magic without wands, so why could he now? He wasn't a Mage. Nevertheless, it wasn't something that one would boast about, like being a Parselmouth. Maybe Dumbledore didn't want him to know.

"I feel pity for your lack of knowledge, weakling. So perhaps I should help you a little before you wander around aimlessly, trying to find a way back before getting killed. It will be fun to watch."

"Should I thank you?"

The Mirror chuckled. "You see, Harry, when you enter a different world you begin to change into your Mirrored self the longer you stay. It's sometimes for the better, but usually for worse. You develop new skills you never knew you had, and maybe even lose some. I'm you and you're me when we're in the same place."

Horror engulfed Harry. He would never be this other person. He couldn't imagine himself taking on his powers and skills, and, most of all, his evil. But his hunger for answers kept him hooked onto the Mirror's words.

"Can I continue, or do you need a moment to regather your senses?"

"Just talk," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"Muggles seem to think we die if we meet our Mirrored self. It's not true; in fact, we begin to feed off each other when we are as close as this. We can become stronger." His dead eyes finally had an inkling of life. "There's only one example of this ever happening here in the past, but it's so vague—"

"Who?" Harry blurted out. "Do you know who else?"

"Rowena Ravenclaw… Where is the Giant's Cut, Harry?"

"Finding it isn't as easy as you think," replied Harry, alarmed. He straightened up. "Do you, er, know how she returned to her world?"

"I have no fucking clue!" he snapped. "Didn't I just say that the history is vague? Anyways… you will become like me."

"I'm not you," Harry said.

The Mirror smirked. "You are now." After a moment of consideration he moved towards the cave's entrance. "You can keep my wand, Harry. Keep it safe. I don't like people touching my things. You can be the only exception."

This boy was more enigmatic and unpredictable than Harry could've possibly dreamt of being.

"Oh, and" – he turned around, his green eyes darker now. Harry could feel power seeping off the boy – "if you come across two young runaways, keep them safe. They belong to me."

"What?"

"Lie low if you find them and I'll track you down. Don't contact Dumbledore."

"As if I'd listen to you—"

"Do as I say," the Mirror threatened, "or you'll die!"

With a small crack the boy disappeared, leaving Harry on his back with a buzz of disbelief at what had just happened.

Mirror Harry was dark, a confirmed Death Eater, but wise, independent and even mad. He was James, Sirius, Hermione and Voldemort mixed into a single entity. And to top that all off, Harry was amazed and a little frightened that he really was a Mage.

Harry suddenly became aware that his ankle wasn't throbbing anymore. He propped himself up and gingerly tested it. Mirror Harry healed him. If Ron was with him, he'd definitely say that he had a very bad feeling about this.

(******)

The evening mist glowed pink from the setting sun and from within her damaged house, Lily watched her two boys sitting on an old wooden bench talking about their brother escaping from the basement.

She let the curtains fall, but stayed there, staring through the lace.

"Hey Lils," James spoke, pale and exhausted.

"Any word on the missing children?" Straight after James had brought back the boys, he went on a search for their departed friend's children. He had not slept at all since Harry's escape and helping to fix the damage that occurred to the house. Since Harry's magic was stronger than a usual wizards, the damage would take days to fix.

"Unfortunately not. Looks like our source had been wrong about where the kids would escape to. Listen, Remus is downstairs, he wants to have a stern chat to the boys about their lack of schoolwork while we were away."

"They're like you and Sirius, but ten times worse."

James looked outraged. "At least we actually did the work! Our sons are slacking. Chris isn't great at duelling and Michael is more concerned with perfecting the Bat Bogey than anything else. I really tried to help them."

"We have to sit them down and tell them their failing in defence."

"They're not failing, Lily. They're just not thinking outside the box… By the way, dinner's on the stove. I'm starving."

This. This conversation almost felt as though everything was back to normal.

Lily felt warm hands rub the nape of her neck, before curling around her shoulders.

"I wish you came with us overseas," he whispered.

She instantly tensed up. She had not felt his warmth and touch for almost a year. Lily found it strange now. "Jessica needs routine, and taking her on holidays would've been detrimental to her health."

"Of course, but it's safer overseas, Chris really came out of his shell. He's talking again and his shoulder and arm is almost healed now. Two weeks ago, that shaman in Peru was able to remove the Dark magic."

Lily felt her heart squeeze. "I'm so happy we took up that Healer's advice for the boys to go on a holiday."

"Sometimes I wish we could just pack up the family and piss off from this nightmare." James spat. "We were so close to losing another child, Lily, and all for what? Because they wanted to prank that Muggle kid who called Jessica a freak?"

"I think about it all the time. They should have never left our protective boundaries without us. Those Death Eaters must have thought they'd won the lottery seeing two young Potters on their own. Christopher could've been conditioned this very moment."

"Come on, Lily, lets get out of England and go far away."

"We can't. We have a war to fight."

"And at which point do we give up?"

"You're sick of fighting."

"I'm sick of burying our children!"

She shrugged out of his hands and moved a healthy distance away from her husband.

"What's wrong? I'm sorry I said the wrong thing again."

"You've said nothing wrong, just the truth," Lily gulped. "I feel the same way, but leaving now will not give Charlie any justice." She could tell that James knew that cracks were beginning to appear in their relationship again. "I want to know why Harry didn't just leave when he got his wand back. Why hide in the basement again and escape the way he did?" she said, repositioning a portrait of Charlie on a shelf. "I thought we hid his wand well. Why didn't he try to kill us?"

"He isn't thinking straight. Dumbledore thinks Harry was mocking us. He was showing off how powerful he is by removing the charms we placed in the basement, and escaping right under our noses. But his main goal was to get his wand back."

"Did you see that curse he attacked Dumbledore with? It scorched the ground around the Protection Shield. That was powerful Dark Magic."

"If Harry held the curse another second, he would've definitely killed him." James sighed. "Honestly, Mirror Harry? That was a clever lie."

Lily wasn't sure what to think. She had many questions, but she wasn't going to ask Dumbledore. "I can't imagine what Harry's been through."

"He killed our son in cold blood, Lily!" James snapped. "Justice—"

"Azkaban isn't justice! It's hell. We sent our boy there without a trial."

"He didn't need a trial. We saw him."

Lily didn't care. She narrowed her eyes, thinking about James strangling Harry. She had never seen her husband react so viciously against their own children, let alone with complete strangers and enemies. "I don't ever want to see you act like you did towards anyone, James."

"I know I was a bit heavy handed—"

"You almost killed him!"

The suspicious expression on James's face instantly turned into one of rebuttal. "Christ's sake, Lily, do you not hear yourself? He's a murderer! Our precious son is Voldemort's right hand man and he was working for the Notorious Thirteen! Let that sink in."

"What if he was forced…?" She was really grasping for an idea in the dark. All these events were bringing up doubts about her son she had squashed many, many months before.

"Forced to kill?" James laughed. "Lily, he did it very willingly. When Dumbledore saw him in Azkaban after Christopher was almost abducted, Harry told him that Chris and Mike would be next, and then Jess and he'd make sure we'd watch. He had said all this with a smile on his face."

She felt sick. "I didn't—why didn't you tell me?" She sat on the window sill. "You're supposed to tell me everything, James!"

"I didn't want you to worry too much about the kids and me."

"It doesn't matter, James, I can handle anything that happens."

He closed his eyes in reflection. "I was protecting you."

"I'm not some helpless little woman!"

"I know. Sorry." He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

An owl screeched as it punctured through the mist. Lily and James remained silent as the owl landed on the windowsill. It was a rather beautiful snowy white owl, who looked so tired and dishevelled. When Lily opened the window, the owl hooted softly and poked out her foot, where a rolled up copy of The Daily Prophet was attached.

James threw a Knut, and the owl caught it in her beak.

"James," Lily tutted, placing the Knut into the little pouch tied around the owl's other leg. The owl thanked her with a gentle nip. "Honestly, she could've swallowed it."

"Oh good, the morning edition... we'll get the afternoon edition sometime next week then, eh?" James mocked, staring at the owl unimpressed.

"Don't blame her. The mist confuses them," Lily admonished, charming up a bowl of water and a treat, "and it was very thick this morning."

But James wasn't paying attention, as he eagerly unrolled the paper. "Let's see what's the goss on Grindelwald!"

Lily looked away from the owl. "What?"

"Has your head been stuck in the sand?"

"If you haven't already noticed, I've been preoccupied with Harry and looking after a terrified ten year old and fixing the basement!"

"Remember how there was a lot of commotion in Europe last December? You know, Muggle disasters that weren't suspicious enough for the Ministries to investigate? Then all those so called Deathly Hallow murders that are occurring more frequently now?"

"Hmm, yes, what of it?"

"It's definitely Grindelwald. He faked his death and escaped eight months ago." James's eyes blazed with excitement. The prison staff pretended that he had never escaped."

Lily's jaw dropped. She snatched the evening paper from her husband's hands. "Since when does the Prophet tell the truth?"

A New Terror Unfolds read the headline blazoned on the front page.

"Great. That's all we need, another disillusioned Dark Lord running around causing mayhem."

She stared at a very old, archival picture of a blonde haired man with a long goatee. The pale, grimacing, though handsome man had finely sculpted cheek bones, but his light grey eyes were so cold. This made Lily's skin crawl. She wondered what he was up to, after all these years in prison. She suddenly smiled to herself and James noticed.

"What's with that look?"

She straightened her face and cleared her throat. "You-Know-Who won't be happy."

(******)

A day after Grindelwald had finally been revealed by The Daily Prophet, there was a knock that echoed throughout the dark residence of Severus Snape. The little town house at Spinner's End was not accustomed to visitors, so this commotion was very strange indeed.

Severus folded the Prophet he had been reading. Today's front page had a picture of the Deathly Hallows symbol and the heading: The Mark of Grindelwald.

The Dark Lord seemed to be cast momentarily aside for Grindelwald, who was unfurling his claws in Britain.

Severus's master was furious, almost manic, summoning his Death Eaters every few days to discuss Grindelwald and his next plan of action. Confusion ran rife within the ranks. Wizards were worried, and Muggles were noticing stranger things, more than they were accustomed to over the last twenty-eight years.

But Severus was calm about it, because he had known for a while what Dumbledore was up to. He had disapproved the old wizard's plan from the get go.

The knock grew more frequent and frantic. He placed the paper casually onto the coffee table and made his way to the front door. Gripping his wand with one hand, he softly shifted the curtains. None of the alarm spells placed on the door had been triggered, so the stranger was not an enemy to him.

Severus witnessed a hooded figure on the porch panting and wheezing for breath. The stranger looked left and right. He knocked again, a little harder, looking impatient to get inside and away from danger.

He opened the door, glaring at the huddled figure. Snape narrowed his eyes from beneath the curtain of dark hair and viciously smiled at the shorter man he stood over.

"Well, well, well, look at what the pixies dragged here," he said with great pleasure. "Azkaban not good enough for an arrogant twat like you?"

The hood fell off the boy's head, revealing the untamed, emaciated face of Harry Potter. "Shut up, Snivellus!" he snarled.

Severus's slammed the door shut in the boy's face.

Potter yelled in frustration, knocking furiously. "This isn't funny, Snape!" he shouted. "I've been hiding out for days. I need—"

Oh, how this thrilled Severus Snape, having the boy hooked around his little finger.

He opened the door again with a creak, and watched the boy give one last look at the world around him before he walked into the darkness of the hallway.

7. Agenda

A/N: Cicen is an Anglo-Saxon word for chicken.

Agenda

Many months earlier…

In a dark cave, Dumbledore sat at the back of a small boat, looking ahead as he drifted over the black, stagnant water. At the front, a wheezing, hunchbacked hag grasped the boat's sides.

"We're 'ere, Mr Cicen," the hag wheezed in a hoarse, foreign accent. She crawled to the shore, glad to finally touch land.

Dumbledore got out of the boat. "Do Dementors exist here?"

"Dose foul beazts? No zir. Most migrated to your country, zir. Maybe you can write dat into your history book, Mr Cicen."

"If it relates to the prisoner in question, then maybe I will." Dumbledore grimaced as he twirled his dark brown beard.

A candle that had hovered in front of the boat now bobbed along in midair, leading their way around a bend. After the hag secured the boat, Dumbledore followed her, limping, his phoenix-headed cane click-clacking on the ground.

"Zir, tis way, zir."

He looked up and saw arched windows carved into the yellow stone. He distinctly thought of Swiss cheese. Light shone out of the windows in many colours, like Christmas lights.

A few squeaking and flapping bats filled the pathway of a spiral staircase, worn from hundreds of years of use. Before this godforsaken place had been turned into a prison by Grindelwald, it had been an old dwarf mine and village. Then the mine had dried up forcing them to move on.

Grindelwald offered the Bulgarian goblins great rewards to take over the abandoned dwarf mine, and they built an ominous castle filled with dangerous towers on top of it. With their ingenuity, they turned it into the prison it was today. As gold helped their power, goblins forced the prisoners' family to pay for their keep, and Dumbledore has paid on time for the last sixty years.

Dumbledore remembered tidbits of goblin history and wars as he followed the hag through the rocky underground maze. "Did you know the first goblins were mutinous dwarf guards from a Scandinavian dwarf clan, Edderdøp?"

"No zir, neva' knew dat'." The hag wheezed. "What made dem different from te rest of their kin?"

"Well as the clan was isolated from other dwarf colonies, it had made some taller with thicker bones, and their eyes black. But their strength and magic was superior, different, exhibiting power similar to that of a Mage's. These strange looking dwarves made them best suited to protecting the mine."

"Ahh I zee."

"The Edderdøp mine was a place of great wealth, large and dense. But the commander of the guards, Grømand, grew so greedy that he demanded better payment for their service. The new chief, Behårmand, not only refused the request, but he distrusted the different looking kin and exiled them above the surface. It was the ultimate disgrace for any dwarf."

"It tis, it tis…"

"So, using their unique magic, the guards fought back, killed the chief and all male dwarves, before taking control of the mine.

"Then as their new hybrid clan grew, they called themselves goblins. They attacked other mines, killed their kin and kidnapped female dwarves."

"Oh dear!"

Thousands of years later, they had transformed into ugly, clever and powerful beings who schemed, cheated and killed to advance their own agenda. But Dumbledore kept that information to himself. He didn't want the goblins spies to overhear.

Unlike the European goblins who continued to sabotage and blackmail wizard and dwarf governments, the goblins in England changed a thousand years ago, during the time Hogwarts was being built. They did not have good mines, so they created Gringotts. They were also the only goblin clan in the world to have a semi-good relationship with the dwarves abroad.

"Tis way, zir." At the end of the second flight of stairs, the hag led him down a roughly carved out corridor.

Wrought iron bars stood everywhere, chains snaked on the slimy ground or walls, and the flicking dim light was cold and uninviting. It felt similar to Azkaban, right down to the despair. There was also a tang of blood in the air.

Then dirty, long-nailed hands sometimes reached through bars.

"GER' OFF!" the hag screamed. She bashed the hands away with a knobbly baton she had retrieved from her cloak. "You kept tat up and there'll be nooooooo food for teh lot of ye bazzzztardzzz!"

Dumbledore kept his focus ahead. He did not want to view the prisoners, and didn't want to see their dead looking eyes. He did not want to remember those sunken green eyes of the boy he had left behind in Azkaban...

His dark thoughts disappeared when they met a couple of Finnish Aurors along the way, bent over in deep conversation, each holding a goblet of mead. The Aurors bowed their heads at the sight of him. Dumbledore greeted them before continuing on.

The prison faculty was filled with Aurors and workers from all over Europe. Many were English Aurors who were disenfranchised with the British Ministry.

The hag then led Dumbledore up a spiral staircase. They were out of the mine and in the castle now. "Ere'," said the hag as she stopped at a dungeon door.

The sturdy door was filled with heavy enchantments. On the hag's command, it opened with a howling shriek. She stood aside, conjured a small rickety stool and sat down.

Dumbledore entered the cell. His eyes needed adjusting to the darkness, while his nose needed adjusting to the horrible smell of human waste and decay. The full moon's light washed over the room with a cold eerie light that made the deadly silence even more permeable. There was no warmth, no happiness or hope. There was only the expectation of death and suffering.

The door closed behind him with an ear-piercing shriek.

The sound of his footsteps and cane echoed within the dark room. The ceiling was high, filled with chains, spikes and restraints, and a cage hung in the middle like a ghastly looking chandelier. Though there was only one man in here, living. Scattered bones and rotting corpses of rodents were kicked towards a corner into a pile. He covered his mouth and pressed on.

The prisoner was sitting cross-legged and proud. "Who are you?" he grunted.

Dumbledore removed his disguise.

This prisoner chuckled lightly. "Well, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Gellert?" Dumbledore moved closer.

He ignited his wand and observed the man's features. He was old and the years had been extremely unkind to Gellert. The man's beard and hair trailed the floor in knots and dirty wet clumps. His eyes were desperately sunken and sad. His wrinkles were deep, his skin was grey and flaking and most of his teeth were gone.

"I haven't heard my name in awhile." A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He obviously hadn't smiled for years. He then frowned. "No one calls me by my name anymore."

"Gellert, have you heard of a wizard who calls himself Voldemort?"

"Ahh, that English bastard, what's his name… It's a strange name, Riddle. Timothy, Titus..."

"Tom Riddle."

"Is he winning the war? Is that why you've come?"

"So and so," Dumbledore said slowly. He conjured a chair of his own, and a bottle of brandy with two glasses. Unlike Azkaban, visitors could use a limited amount of spells in here.

The prisoner stiffened up, eyeing the bottle suspiciously. "What are you doing here, Albus?"

Dumbledore poured out the brandy and handed the glass to the prisoner, then sat down and placed his cane across his legs.

"Have you hurt yourself?"

"It was an accident." Dumbledore frowned. "A year ago, I tripped over a kneazle that was rummaging through the grounds of Hogwarts. I am better, fear not."

The old prisoner laughed. "I could always see through your lies."

"And yours too." He raised his glass and drank the brandy.

"Do you still have the wand, Albus?"

"No... I was defeated by Tom. Are you disappointed in me?"

"Very!" He laughed hoarsely. "Is he at Hogwarts now?"

"Yes."

"Now, why are you here?"

"I have come—I have a few favours to ask of you."

The prisoner narrowed his grey eyes. "Oho, and what do I get in return? I've been in here for over sixty years, no thanks to you." The wizard smirked, sipping his brandy after sniffing it. He closed his eyes and savoured the drink.

"Believe me, Lord Grindelwald, you will not pass this opportunity up."

Hearing his full name, the old man swelled with renewed pride. "Tell me then. But be careful what you say in here. The goblins might hear.""

Dumbledore observed the once powerful wizard intently as he placed charms around the room to protect their secrets. He then held another full glass of brandy to his lips. "First, what have you heard about a boy named Harry Potter?"

"A little…"

But Dumbledore knew his old foe knew more than that. "And?"

"The Potters… They come from a long line of purebloods, right? Perhaps tainted blood, but, prominent, powerful… at least from Peverell's side." Grindelwald toothlessly grinned. "Are those charms you put up able to keep the goblin spies out?"

"Our conversation is secure," Dumbledore replied confidently.

In a hushed voice Gellert said, "The eldest boy is Voldemort's right hand, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he's in prison now. One of the things you'll be doing for me is to keep an eye on him."

The prisoner tapped his chin with a gnarly finger. "Funny, I've heard the goblins are keeping tabs on the boy too."

"Harry would be an asset to anyone who can control him."

"And how will I be conducting these favours of yours within prison?"

"I find the Bulgarian goblins are easier to sway..." Dumbledore looked at the prisoner. "They're less adherent to rules and laws than their English counterparts. In a few days, the goblins will Polyjuice you into an Auror."

"How will this be kept secret?"

"An ex supporter of yours in this prison is willing to take your place," he answered. "When you are ready, see me in England."

(******)

July 26th, the present.

Potter limped around the dark living-room of Severus Snape's dwelling. His fingers prodded the coffee table where a pile of old tomes sat and then the trinkets and boxes near his fireplace.

"Stop touching my things, boy!"

"Where's Emily?" Potter asked casually. "I hope you haven't killed her because of her subpar potion making skills."

Severus gazed around the room, making sure that nothing he wished to keep private was out in the open. "Her potion skills are much better than yours ever was. Besides, she has other valuable skills, that to discard her like a scrap of garbage would have been a disgrace."

"Then where is she?"

"Miles is a fully initiated Death Eater. She is free to do what she likes without my mentorship."

"Free," the boy snorted, "now, that's irony."

"Potter, you've come here for safety, not to check on my Conditioned's welfare."

The burgundy couch was covered in a thick layer of dust, but it was still comfortable and inviting. The boy sat down slowly, pain stretching over his face. He took off his round glasses and pocketed them, before spreading his arms over the back of the couch.

"Do try and keep your filth off my furniture," Severus hissed.

It was a rare sight indeed for a visitor to grace the rooms of his house, even one as prickly as this boy. And if a visitor did come, it was just as rare if he left the house in one piece.

"It's not like they're not filthy already," the boy retorted. "In fact, do you ever clean? I s'pose not, otherwise your hair wouldn't be so greasy."

Silence…

The tangible feeling of hate spread from Severus like licks of flame. Such immature snides, he thought. Severus did not want to suffer insolence under his own roof. Why did he let him in? Damn you, Lily.

Severus whipped out his wand, jabbing the point in the soft skin underneath Potter's chin. The boy looked alarmed, though not as much as he would've liked.

"Insult me again in my own house, Potter. I dare you! And from now on, I will do the questioning." Even though the boy was above him in command, Severus was still a senior Death Eater and that demanded respect and fear, something which the boy failed to grasp.

Potter's jaw clenched, breathing heavily. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"It's a shame those Atoners didn't rip out you tongue." Severus sheathed his wand within his black robes again. "Where have you been hiding?"

"Here and there, anywhere dark."

"Why has it taken you so long to seek refuge? Everyone else reported to our master within minutes of their escape."

"None of your business."

"None of my—?" Severus glowered. "Start talking, boy, I will need to report to the Dark Lord about you coming here."

Potter tensed. "What are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know yet... perhaps I will tell him you've procrastinated. He hates that." A ripple of fear crossed Potter's face, but only for a second. This gave Severus a lot of satisfaction. "So again, I ask you, what were you doing for days after your escape?"

"Literally, nuh-thing," he said slowly, his tongue flicking over the last syllables. "Go on, Snape, tell him. I don't care," he goaded.

"And you do realise, if I tell him, he will punish you, perhaps kill you?"

Potter's eyes flashed. "He won't. I'm his favourite, remember?"

"You're insane." Severus hissed.

"Do you know why I came here?"

"Enlighten me, yes," he asked with a sigh.

"Because you like to keep your snivelling mouth shut." Potter frowned. "I've never seen you grovel like the others, divulging secrets for rewards. You keep to yourself."

Severus was slightly put off by this. The boy trusts me... interesting. Yet he didn't know whether he could trust the boy.

"No one knows how you lot escaped Azkaban. Do you?" Severus just stared into those lifeless light green eyes.

Potter looked away. "I don't know. I woke up and my side of The Black Square was destroyed and we were freed."

He watched the boy's expressions for lies, unable to penetrate his mind.

"How odd, that you managed to escape with seven others."

"Indeed," the boy agreed.

"Do you know the people you had escaped with?" Severus knew only one of the seven was a true, loyal Death Eater: Henry Cox: a Death Eater who was a spy in the Ministry.

"Four of the prisoners had been conditioned, becoming assassins, killing off prominent Muggle officials. While another two were innocent wizards imprisoned for no crime, except for opposing the Ministry."

Severus decided to change subjects, keeping Potter from getting too comfortable in their conversation. "What did the Atoners do to you?"

"You know. You just want to hear it for your own perverse pleasure."

"I have no qualms in seeing you suffer, Potter," he said. "But you're here for help. I can help you."

Potter laughed.

"When was the last time you ate?" he continued, firing off more questions than he had answers.

"A rat one day ago. Do you want to know the last time I had a shit too?"

Severus would never be intimidated or scared of a stupid, ignorant, power-hungry, toerag teen. The mere thought was laughable.

He stood in front of the boy, arms crossed with the intent of staring him to death. "Be careful, Potter. I am a Senior; one word, and the Dark Lord will make you pay."

Scoffing, he said, "It's not like he's never planned to kill me, anyway."

So brash, bold, and reckless. Not that you had changed much, but what happened to you? What's made you unhinged, Potter? What made you switch sides?

While Potter was under Severus's thumb, he was going to risk it and question him about it. It would stop Lily pestering him for information about her Death Eater son.

He curled his lip. "At least you know what's coming. Now, why did you go to your family? Who did you kill for that wand and Portkey?"

"Speaking with my mum, lately?"

"News travels fast."

"That's bullshit—!"

"Why did you go there? You still haven't reported to our master."

"I wanted to see my sister. Then my mother caught me... I needed time to escape, so I made them think I was loopy."

"I think you succeeded. Your escape was certainly a travesty,"

"Good. I'm not ready to kill my parents yet—too weak," he rambled on. "My Portkey Charm was slightly off in direction and landed me in the house, stupid thing. I burgled an old wizard—didn't kill him."

"Where's your Yew and Phoenix wand?"

"Hidden in a cave."

"The same cave with this elusive diadem?"

The boy tapped his fingers on the armrest, taking a moment to respond, as he perhaps remembered the finer details of his conversation with Lupin. "Oh, yeah... Ravenclaw's diadem... Good story wasn't it?"

"Idiotic, really. What did the Atoners do to you?"

Silence permeated the air, chilly and unforgiving.

"Did the Atoners break you?"

Severus could hear the grandfather clock he had inherited from his Muggle grandfather chime. It seemed so far away, even though it was only a few feet from him.

"What secrets did you reveal to the Atoners?"

"Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall…" Potter sang to himself, laughing.

"Did they break you?" he repeated.

Severus moved closer to him, and the tiniest flutter of his black robes brushed against the boy's arm. The reaction confirmed his queries. Potter jumped away, wide-eyed and alarmed.

Severus backed away, satisfied with the boy's torment. "Calm down, I won't hurt you."

"I never revealed anything!"

He could've taunted Potter a little more, make him squirm, make him realise Severus was the one not to be toyed with, but in the end he chose not to. Instead, Severus gave the boy space and a chance to regain control, secretly relishing the power he now held over him.

When Potter had first walked in, he'd probably thought he could command Severus around. Wrong. In truth, the boy was nothing; only a pawn for the Dark Lord's game.

Potter stood up, his hands in fists now. "I'm staying here. It'll only be for a little while—"

"Use the spare bedroom—first door to your right, upstairs. I will call in Healer Sigmus Pritchard. You'd know him."

"I don't know him. But I've heard about what he does to Mudbloods."

Severus sneered. "Then you must do as you're told, unless you want to become his new guinea pig. Now, get out of my sight."

Potter scowled at being told what to do, though Severus could see his tense shoulders relaxing somewhat.

"While you're under my roof, you're to obey my every command." He took in the look of outrage on Potter's face with pleasure. "I daresay it will be a change for you."

(******)

In a cave near Wiltshire, Harry woke up. His mind was reeling and confusion was settling into a hard ball in the middle of his chest. He had just had a rather vivid dream.

He had seen everything his Mirror was doing through his eyes, just like it had happened with Voldemort in his own world. He cupped his hands over his eyes, drinking in whatever was left of his dream before it slipped away.

For one day Harry had stayed in the cave, only venturing out to find food and little snippets of information from the nearby Muggle town. He wanted to investigate the world and formulate ways to get Mirror Dumbledore's attention without ending up a prisoner or worse. He already had an idea, but it would be risky.

He stealthily made his way into the town again, with the dream still fresh in his mind.

Everything in this Mirror Universe looked the same, but Harry had noticed a heavy cold mist that hung about constantly. What had shocked him most, however, was the discovery of a mass murder scene outside a pub he'd seen when walking through town that evening. There was a group of dead Muggles, and a few who were barely alive.

People were trying to get a better look at the death and destruction, but the police, masked in special protective gear and wearing sterile gloves and masks were shooing them away. Harry got closer, sticking behind yellow fences that were erected around the area of the dead. Muggles in biohazard suits were carefully piling the plastic covered bodies onto gurneys to be whisked away. Those who were still alive were put into plastic bubble sort of devices, in the hopes they'd contain the mysterious disease.

"Dear God, when did this happen?" a woman in front of Harry asked. "I know this has been happening all over the country for years now, but I never expected it to happen here."

A man next to her whispered, "It happened at sunset, Maryanne. Some heard screaming, but something got to them as they escaped the pub and they dropped like flies."

"But what was it? You can't just die like that." The woman clicked her fingers, emphasising her point.

"Well, they all thought it was some sort of fast spreading disease, but I've heard rumours that a coppa' was tasering at something no one could see before he died too."

The Dementor's Kiss, Harry thought. That policeman must have been a squib or more.

"Come on, Maryanne, we'd best be going. Curfew is about to begin."

Harry too retreated from the area. He stole some food from the local store, with the hoodie of his jacket drawn over his face. The owner of the shop was more interested in the scene than seeing a boy stealing. He quickly returned to the cave, with the Muggle town far in the distance and thought hard whether he wanted to be hiding for a day longer, especially with Dementors everywhere.

More than once, Harry had thought about turning himself in to the Order and pleading for them to believe him. But fear held him back until that evening, after witnessing those Muggles.

It was now or never. Harry swore, picked up his jacket, ready to Apparate to someone who could help him... perhaps, after a little Confundus Charm, and then message Dumbledore to him.

Suddenly he heard voices whispering outside and a child crying, and remained completely still.

"This way," one said. A boy. "I think this is another good cave to sleep in tonight."

"Wait, Tony, are you sure there aren't any g-ghosts—"

"Don't be stupid, Ashley. There could be Dementors."

"TONY!" the little girl screamed. "That's not funny."

"Then stop being stupid! Ghosts are nothing, anyway."

Harry saw wand light at the very edge of the cave, and could see the shadows of two figures getting closer. What he saw next made his insides squirm.

The boy, perhaps twelve years old, had a disfigured face; his right side was scarred. His right eye was white and foggy, and part of his hair was missing. What shocked Harry most was the Dark Mark, as black as ink on his left forearm where his cloak had drifted back.

The little girl, who had been scared moments before, gripped the boy's cloak.

She was two feet shorter than the boy; her hair had been shaved off and she was very dirty.

"I want to go home! Tony, we need to stop hiding in caves," she said, scared and sad. "We aren't that far away from Malfoy Manor yet."

Harry swore under his breath. He had forgotten that the Malfoys lived in Wiltshire.

"We can't, stupid. We need to hide or Bellatrix will catch us. And that note gave us a list of coordinates—of caves to go to every day."

"But what if it was a trick?"

"That's why we're not going to those exact places!" the boy slyly replied. "Bit by bit, we'll get out of Wiltshire."

"I wish we were taught Apparation."

What kind of a world was this? Harry thought with horror. He moved his hand an inch and some gravel fell to the ground. Both children looked at the very spot he stood and screamed.

8. The Conditioned

The Conditioned

"Quiet. Shhhhh! I won't hurt you." Harry backed away from the kids. These must be the runaways!

"I hate you," the boy whispered. "You killed our dad!"

The exhausted little girl named Ashley, sobbed. "Mummy died too."

"You've mistaken me for someone else—"

"I don't suppose you would remember," Tony said, venom lacing his voice, "because you kill people and kidnap kids all the time!"

Harry looked into the boy's good blue eye. There was such fierce hate and so much bitterness.

BANG!

They heard shouts and laughter from outside the cave making the children shrink into the shadows, frightened. "Oh no!" the girl squealed. "I don't want to go back."

Death Eaters had followed them. Harry armed himself, his panic rising.

The kids tried to bolt, but Harry grabbed them both, cupped their mouths and hid them in the darkness.

"I saw them come in here," a deep voice rang. A light danced on the stones ahead of Harry, and he saw the figures' long thin shadows snaking their way through the cave like spidery fingers.

"Come out, come out little children," droned the female voice.

Fuck! Harry swore. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You can't escape, children. You are mine."

Another female Death Eater laughed. She giggled with joy. She sounded like a happy hyena who'd found meat to scavenge. "Come on now, Anthony and Ashley. Be good and come out. If you do, the punishment will be less than severe."

"Alecto, will you stop terrifying the Conditioned. They won't come out if you threaten them like that," another Death Eater spoke.

"Shut up, Sinistra."

"I smell blood," said another. To Harry's dread, Fenrir Greyback's shadow loomed near.

Again the kids tried to squirm away, but Harry made sure he held them tight.

"I'll have you both for dinner, I will—"

"No you won't, Greyback," Bellatrix shrieked. "If you lay your stinking fangs on my kids, I'll make sure you pay for it!"

He laughed sarcastically. "Bella, your rats are useless. They wouldn't recognise the enemy if it danced in front of their faces."

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, YOU FUCKING BEAST!"

The Death Eaters halted their search as they squabbled amongst themselves.

Time was running out fast for Harry. He was about to Apparate out, when Ashley bit his arm, running free.

"NO!" both Harry and Tony yelled. The girl fell straight into Greyback's clutches and screamed.

"Gotcha, lil' missy."

Harry and Tony bolted after her. Her little legs kicked in the air as Greyback picked her up, fangs bared dangerously.

"GET OFF HER!" Bella roared, slashing her wand at the werewolf.

"Stupefy," Harry thought savagely. The jet of red light hit Greyback between the shoulder blades, just as Bellatrix's blue curse hit his face. Greyback toppled sideways pulling the girl with him.

The Death Eater, Sinistra, who Harry recognised as a professor at Hogwarts in his own world, pulled Ashley free, holding her robes tightly. Both were now watching him with trepidation.

Bella seemed stunned, as though she had been hit by Harry's curse. Then she smiled, though awkward at first, pointing her wand at him. There was nothing friendly about it.

"Well, well, well, protecting the little ones are you now, Harry?" she smirked. "And where have you been?"

"Hiding."

Bellatrix chuckled. She sounded winded, like she had been running. She licked her lips while Harry struggled to keep the boy from running into their clutches as well.

"We searched for you at Azkaban when we found out about the attack, but you had disappeared… or worse. Our Master's been worried you'd been caught by Grindelwald."

What the hell? Grindelwald is on the loose here?

"Come back with us and I might even let you condition them this time."

"I'll go back when I'm ready. Now let her go," Harry said confidently, his anger swelling. He watched Greyback growl at him as he staggered upright, his senses coming back to him.

"Besides Bella, I found them first." Harry felt sick saying it.

The boy he was trying to protect yelled and kicked him. He ignored the sharp pain in his left knee. "Hand her over, Sinistra," Harry ground out.

What surprised him most was that the Death Eaters had listened to his command. Sinistra let go of the flailing girl. Ashley stumbled and backed away from the Death Eaters, inching her way slowly towards him.

How high up in the chain of command was Harry in this world? He felt a sick thrill of power sizzle through his veins. But was it his power and his own thoughts? He'd worry about it later. First, he needed to get out of this situation.

Bellatrix looked as though she had sucked on a lemon. "YOU CAN'T JUST STEAL MY PROPERTY, POTTER! You've got no right. I've been your secondment since you've been in prison."

Harry was disgusted. How could they steal children and brainwash them to become murderers? "But I'm back, so your place in rank is gone. I'm taking them, and you can't stop me."

Bella screeched, wand pointing between Harry's eyes now. Green sparks flew out of it. "The Dark Lord will hear of this and he will punish you."

"I don't give a fuck!" he spat.

Tony inhaled sharply at Harry's comeback.

It was time to go before things got worse. Holding tight onto the struggling children, Harry vanished to the safest place he thought of first. The space was cramped and noisy with whooshing air, mixed with Bella's screams of outrage.

He opened his eyes and felt a cold breeze on his face. For a moment Harry couldn't believe what had just happened. He looked at his feet, still acutely aware that he was holding onto to two very scared, yet dangerous kids.

They were standing in a grassy park. The sky was filled with looming clouds, mist and the threat of rain. He had just escaped Death Eaters without them even challenging his authority. Adrenalin rushed through his body and his heart was beating fast. He felt victorious.

Then he heard sniffling. The little girl was sobbing. Harry realised that he was holding the children tight enough to feel their pulses.

Panic set in and then another foreboding began to bloom. What was he going to do with two kids? He couldn't take care of them, let alone himself. And he wasn't going to let his Mirror take them.

"What are you going to do to us?" the boy spoke in resignation. "If you survive, what skills would you like us to learn?"

"Skills?"

"Yeah, you know... Bellatrix wanted us to excel with The Killing Curse."

"We can kill," the girl added confidently.

"What will you teach us?"

To be normal children? Harry looked ahead and spotted a swing and a slippery slide. They were in a Muggle park and behind the trees he could see a couple of scattered cars zooming by. "I don't know... Look, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Yeah, right," the boy said.

"Bella would've killed us." The little girl trembled.

"You're in deep shit, now, Potter."

"Why?" Tell me something I don't know.

"It's treason against the Dark Lord, stealing us." Tony grimaced. "I can't believe you did that, especially against your own Mentor. You'll be killed publicly for that."

"Er, right." Harry hesitated, then said, "I'm going to try and get you two to safety, but in order to do that I need your help."

"Whe-where are you taking us?" Ashley asked.

"Somewhere that's safe from the Ministry and Voldemort."

Both children gasped in fear, because Harry had said Voldemort's name. They had even stopped struggling against his grip to stare.

Harry swore to himself. He remembered that the name was now cursed in his own world. For a moment he feared that Death Eaters would be alerted. Looking around, he was glad they hadn't showed up, meaning his name wasn't Tabooed.

"You're not supposed to say his name, Potter. That's treason too. That's another publicly punishable offence."

"Publicly? What do you mean by that?"

"You should know."

"Look, prison's changed me. I also have trouble remembering things now."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "We're not stupid. Just because Umbridge oversaw your imprisonment doesn't mean you've changed."

"How long has Umbridge been destroying people's lives?"

"Eighteen years."

"Hasn't Dumbledore done anything about it?"

"Dumbledore?" the boy asked in shock. "He's nothing. He can't do much against the Ministry."

"Daddy was in the Order, so how come Dumbledore didn't rescue us?" Ashley mumbled.

"Yeah, how come he left us with Bella?" Tony clenched his hands into fists. "Maybe it's because my parents wanted nothing to do with the Order anymore. I guess we weren't worthy enough to be saved. So stuff them! We don't want their help."

"He'll help you." Would he really?

Tony shook his head. "Dumbledore doesn't care about anyone anymore."

"What makes you say that?"

"When Hogwarts was open, he did his best to protect the school. He even let Muggleborns in. Then, of course, you turned really bad after Dumbledore's defeat. Then the Chamber of Secrets opened, the school closed down and he didn't care anymore… and then he left my family to rot!"

"Oh. Who opened the Chamber?"

Tony narrowed his eyes. "You did. Do you remember what happened next?"

"I told you—mind's gone all fuzzy."

"The Muggleborns were rounded up by some message you sent, and most were killed by that monster. It's still on the loose. Then you and Bellatrix attacked my family and I watched you kill our father."

Even under their tragic circumstances, Harry could learn a lot from these kids. He needed to learn more than enough for him to survive in this world until he got Dumbledore's attention.

"You both have wands, and you haven't tried to curse me yet."

"Yeah, well, you belong in the Dark Lord's inner circle. We wouldn't even dare hex you."

Harry sighed. "Look, if I let you both go, where would you go?"

"Home," Ashley said, "to Grandma's."

"We can't," the boy stressed. "She's dead."

Harry sighed. "If I was really bad, what would I have done to you by now?"

"Bad stuff..." the girl whispered.

"And I haven't."

"You could be tricking us," Tony growled.

"I'm not. I'm going to let you both go. You'll have the choice of running away and getting caught again, or you can follow me." This should be interesting...

Harry walked away, his jacket flapping in the breeze. He was met with only silence and cold air. After a moment, fearing that the children had run away, he turned around.

Brother and sister stood side by side hugging each other, eyes glued on him.

"I guess you'll be following me then?" Harry said, shivering now.

They were alone in a deserted park, swirling with that ghastly mist, with nothing to protect themselves from the elements. He knew where he had to head to next. He just wasn't sure how they'd react. Harry trudged forward, the wet grass soaking his old sneakers.

"Your names are Ashley and Tony, right?" He asked, as he halted by a set of lurid coloured monkey bars. Not too far off, the tar on the road glittered with light rain.

The little girl nodded. "Y-yes, we're Ashley and Anthony Pettigrew."

"Shut up, Ash!" the boy hissed and the girl screeched when her brother yanked her arm. "He already knows. He's just playing games with us."

"That's enough!" Harry's heart fluttered. Pettigrew's children? "Peter Pettigrew?" Harry felt a sense of revulsion spread throughout his body like wildfire.

"What do you think?" Tony retorted in disgust.

"And he was good, was he?"

"Yeah," the boy said, outraged at such a question. "Don't you dare say anything bad about our father, Potter," he yelled. "He saved your dad's life!"

Harry bit his lip, curious indeed. So Peter was good in this world and had rescued James. If only Peter had the guts in my own world, he thought bitterly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," he replied calmly, fingers tracing his lightning bolt scar. "Er, how did your dad save mine?"

"You really don't remember?" The boy continued to look at him weirdly, as though he thought Harry had gone mad.

"I don't."

Still looking incredulously at him, Tony answered, "There was an attack at a Muggle boarding school during the full moon. Sirius, James and my dad were first on the scene, having the most experience dealing with werewolves. Greyback attacked James, but my dad got in the way, saving him and was bitten instead. He was never the same again."

"He didn't like the Order after that." Ashley nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Was Peter my parent's Secret Keeper?"

"Sirius is."

Harry pressed on with the questions. He felt as though he was treading on eggshells with the next question. "Was your dad a Death Eater?"

"Was." Tony kicked a stone over. "He turned though. James and Sirius found out when you were four months old and stopped him from getting too far in. Then Dumbledore used him to spy for the Order—Why am I telling you all this? You know!"

"Like I said, I can't remember a lot since Azkaban."

Tony was still suspicious. "Dumbledore didn't give a toss about my dad after he got bitten. The last time Dad visited your family, it was to speak with Charlie, before, well… before you killed him."

"Why did he visit Charlie?" Harry questioned.

Tony shrugged. "Charlie was cool, annoying—always asking questions—and smart. He knew so much about animals and he taught me so much stuff. I guess my dad had questions about the bite."

In the distance, they heard a few cars skidding along the wet road. Once again he thought of the immediate danger they were all in. "Look, we really need to get out of here."

"Where are we going?" Ashley asked. She was about to move, but Tony stopped her and made sure he held her hand tightly.

"Yeah, where exactly are you planning on taking us? It better be quick, Potter, there's that Muggle curfew we're breaking."

"Just follow me, it's not that far away," Harry said, walking through shrubs and away from a set of swings squeaking in the breeze. "Why is there a curfew?" he asked, having heard of it for the first time in the Muggle town that evening.

Tony rolled his eyes. "The Muggle army patrols the streets at night, trying to protect the Muggles from Dementors and Death Eaters. Anyone without a Blue Pass isn't allowed to roam the streets."

Harry focused ahead to the neatly manicured lawns and the pristine, boring little houses as his mind was reeling at the fact he was now protecting Pettigrew's children. He needed to get through to his aunt first, before dealing with Vernon and Dudley. For now, they'd try to find somewhere warm to sleep nearby.

(******)

Severus stood in a dark corner of the spare bedroom, his eyes roving onto every corner of the room, looking for ways Potter could escape. Then of course he watched the boy as he slept.

He thought what the consequences might be if he pulled a pillow from beneath Potter's head and smothered him with it. The Dark Lord wouldn't be too happy about that, he mused.

It had been hours since the boy had first arrived here. Severus left Healer Pritchard alone, locked in the room with Potter to do his work. Now he saw the boy for the first time since he arrived, and the difference was remarkable. He was cleaned, his stupid fuzzy beard was gone and he looked more alive.

Pritchard, a bald-headed Healer with grey eyes and a bulbous, oily nose, wiped his hands clean of the blood and grime from Potter's old wounds.

"I'm done," Pritchard rasped.

"How long will it be until he recovers?"

"The wounds are old. Some of the cursed ones may take awhile to heal." The Healer shrugged. "Give him a few days of rest." The Healer turned and downed a glass of Firewiskey which sat on the cabinet.

Pritchard poured himself another full glass of whiskey, and then moved towards his tattered briefcase. He began rummaging through it, pulling out bottles. "He'll need a few potions." He placed them on the cabinet. "I don't need to explain what they are and how often you need to give them. You are after all, the maker of these."

Severus silently picked up a bottle, shaking its contents. He then moved away, charmed off the armchair a pile of the laundered stolen Muggle clothes Potter wore.

"I'd best be going," the Healer announced, breaking Severus's thoughts.

"Yes, it's rather late. Thank you."

Pritchard packed his things away, discarding bloodied towels, soiled gauze and such with a swipe of his wand, and retreated from the bedroom.

Now it was only himself and Potter in the house. Severus snuffed out a few candles and poured himself a glass of the whiskey. He felt that he deserved it after the day's events. He was sure Dumbledore would agree.

He was about to sit down when he noticed that Potter's eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. Surprise and annoyance filled him. Did Pritchard not give him enough Dreamless Sleep Potion? Severus placed his glass on the cabinet. It was a small move, but it startled the boy.

"How can a once fearless Gryffindor turn into a scared little mouse as you are now?" His words punctured the silence like crisp new snowflakes falling for the first time.

"Fuck—"

He forced the boy's mouth to suddenly seal on itself. Severus enjoyed mocking him, enacting petty revenge. "Manners, Potter. Swearing is not allowed in my house."

Severus and Bellatrix had been the Dark Lord's favourites until the boy pushed passed them, slithering his way through the ranks like a giant snake. There was always an element of jealousy. Severus had experienced an envy which had run rife with James Potter, now passing onto his son.

The boy stared into his eyes, and Severus felt a light prod at the barrier of his mind.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." Severus added a spell to the bedsheets, preventing Potter from moving.

They were both masters at Occlumency. But there was an unwritten rule to never speak of this ability, for there would be dire consequences if their master found out.

The boy mumbled until the curse was lifted. "Why did you come in here anyway? Felt the urge to sing me a lullaby?"

Severus stiffened up. "I've come with some interesting news about Bellatrix. And I also have news our master wants you to know. Which do you want to hear first?"

Potter hesitated. "Dark Lord."

"You've been demoted. You're below us—"

"Below you?" Surprised, Potter suddenly looked a little confused. "Since when have I lost my rank—? You told him what I said to you? You're a bastard!" He started to thrash in bed, unable to sit up. "Let go of this spell!"

"No. I didn't say anything... as much as I want to see you within an inch of death, I never tell."

"Then how did he—?"

"He figured it out himself," Severus replied smoothly. "He did ask me if you had been on a… mission for him. I said you never revealed anything of that nature or gave me any cryptic messages to tell him."

"Yeah, I would've given you a message to send him if..." Potter swore. "I want back in—I want to be at the top of command!"

"The Dark Lord disapproves of weakness, and getting caught has displeased him. You let your procrastination come between you and his orders." Whatever they were...

Potter tensed his jaw, jutting it out. "What have you got on Bellatrix?"

"I will tell you tomorrow now. But first you need a sleeping potion"

"I don't need—"

"Yes you do. You need rest."

"Since when do you care if I need sleep or not?" he asked, trying to wriggle his way out of bed.

Severus snorted as he poured the potion into a goblet. "You're right, I don't care, but you are still the Dark Lord's servant and my ally despite our… mutual differences. It's my duty to protect those on our side and that unfortunately includes you."

"That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy."

"By the way, do you hide your scars?"

Potter almost touched his forehead. "Some, why?"

"Just wondering if you have a curse scar..."

"Curious, aren't you?" the boy said slyly.

I'm not, but some are wondering, Severus thought. "Why would you hide it?"

"Because it's too visible," he hissed. "Tell me about Bella, now."

Severus paused for a moment as though he was deliberating on the information he had found out only an hour before. "I'm telling you tomorrow."

"Stop undermining me!" the boy yelled. "You come in here taunting me and I can't even defend myself."

"Ahh, feeling vulnerable are you? You should be used to it by now."

"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" Enraged now, Potter pulled and kicked at his blankets, still unable to free himself.

"You should sleep now," he drawled as the boy struggled.

"FUCK YOU!"

Severus heard a bell jingle from within the house, but he ignored it, even though it was both the Intruder and Friend Alarms going off.

Before Potter could protect himself, Severus wrenched his jaw open, tipping in the potion against his will. The boy spluttered and coughed.

"Bastard," Potter mumbled. His eyelids were now heavy with sleep.

Severus sighed. "Thank you for pointing that out. Remember, you are beneath me now. I can make your life just as miserable as those Atoners did."

The boy slurred a few more curses, before sleep finally took hold.

He watched the boy's chest rising and falling before he thought it was safe to retreat from the room. He turned around and tensed when he saw the tall, wizened old figure at the doorway. It wasn't Dumbledore.

"That was entertaining," the wizard chortled, moving toward the bed. He twisted his silver goatee, observing the boy's features. "So this is the great Harry Potter. The Dark Mage of our time." He prodded the boy's cheek with one long finger. "He doesn't seem fierce in person—"

"Never wake a sleeping dragon," Severus said through gritted teeth. "You shouldn't be here, Grindelwald. I've had enough visitors for one day!"

9. Refuge

Refuge

It was early morning and if a Muggle looked out of their window, they would have seen three strange, dirty kids walking along the footpath. That is, if they could've seen through the mist at all.

"W-w-where to n-n-now?" asked the tiny girl, trying to stifle a yawn.

To a place that had perpetuated so much misery in my world... "To my aunt, she lives not far from here," Harry replied, ignoring his hunger. His stomach was making more noise than the garbage truck down the road.

"My feet hurt," the girl sniffled.

"Shut it, Ash. Just do what he says."

At once, Ashley did what she was told, sniffling in silence. Harry looked at the little girl. Her face hung low under her wet cloak. She looked like a lost soul in this world. Tony was different. Harry caught a glimpse of a broken spirit. The burgeoning teen was fuelled by anger and hate. Harry was suddenly reminded of himself in fifth year.

As they walked, he noticed many more peculiar things about this Mirror Muggle world. When then mist shifted over one street, Harry saw that all the front doors had a yellow poster stuck on.

"Dad once showed me one of these posters," remarked Tony.

Upon closer inspection, it read:

By Order of the

British Government,

Department of Defence

and the

Department of Health & Social Care

We declare this house to be free of all contagions and terrorist agents.

It is hereby declared safe to live in.

"Dementors and Death Eaters," Tony whispered, seeing how intrigued Harry was by the poster. "This street's been cleared by the Muggles. There must have been an attack not long ago."

They rounded a corner into a very familiar street of manicured lawns and little houses that looked like dull brown cupboard boxes.

It was around seven in the morning and Uncle Vernon would have left for work already, so it would be safer to deal with the rest.

Taking a very deep and long breath, Harry walked into the front yard, up the few little steps that were guarded by two large hydrangea bushes, and then stood face to face with the white door with a large gold number four. He noticed that the house had a yellow sign declaring it safe too. Holding his breath, he knocked.

A dog barked from within the house. For a wild second Harry hoped to God it wasn't Aunt Marge's dearly beloved pit bull. A woman called for the dog to back off. At least she sounded like his Aunt Petunia.

The door opened and it took several moments before Petunia realised who had decided to visit. She gasped, and then tried to slam the door shut. Harry regrettably, and with a lot of pain had wedged his foot in between the frame and the door, making Aunt Petunia yelp in fear and her dog growl in defence.

"Get away from me you terrorist!" she said with such disdain.

He prised the door open and pushed himself into the hallway, both children following behind. Petunia ran behind a cabinet and brandished a wooden coat stand full of coats at him. Harry backed off a little and Ashley squeaked, burying her head into his jacket.

"Aunt Petunia, listen to me, we—"

"Get out of my house, NOW! Or I'll call those Aero guard people!"

"Aurors—put that stand down! I just want to talk—we're not going to hurt—"

Aunt Petunia was having none of it. She threw a figurine which missed his head by an inch. Ashley screamed, poking her wand at Petunia. The dog tried to bite Harry's leg but managed to sink his teeth into his jeans instead.

"NO! No spells," he warned as he shook the dog off.

Aunt Petunia shrieked and bolted towards the kitchen. She slammed the kitchen door with a crash, its glass panes breaking.

"I'm calling the police!" Petunia screamed through the now windowless door, wielding a knife. "Get any closer and I'll call them."

Harry sighed with great frustration.

Tony looked at him with a smirk playing on his lips. Harry knew he was taking pleasure at his failure to calm a Muggle woman down.

"Do you want us to Imperio her, Mentor?" the boy mocked.

"Go wait in the living room," Harry snapped, pointing them in the right direction. They followed his order.

(******)

Severus woke as his small house elf, Dimples, pulled the curtains back to reveal the grey weather beyond. Dimples set a tray of potions beside the boy's bed and left without another word.

"Wake up."

The boy moaned, rubbing his eyes. It seemed to take a long while before he realised where he was and what was happening. Severus grew very impatient and gave him a sharp slap on the cheek.

"I'M AWAKE," he yelled, covering his face defensively.

"You need to take your potions."

"An alarm clock would've been better," he snarled, massaging his cheek.

Severus passed the boy a goblet filled with orange liquid. "Just drink."

He cringed as he sat up. His jet black hair tumbled around his face, but he obeyed Severus and took the goblet, cupping it gently with both hands. His face was pulled into a disgusted expression as he tasted it. "Wish it was pumpkin juice," he whispered between difficult gulps.

"How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "Much better."

"Good. Now take this potion." Severus handed him another goblet, this time filled with a creamy liquid.

Potter took it and drank slowly. "I could drink this one all day."

"Don't, unless you want to end up the size of a blue whale." Severus made the boy drink two more potions. "Now… Bellatrix…" he said, as he took away the last goblet.

"Tell me."

Severus moved toward the window, staring into the mist, which has begun spreading abroad.

"Did you hear me?

"Quite clearly."

"Then tell me." His green eyes locked onto Severus's for a moment. "Please."

"It seems that you stole Bella's Conditioned last night."

Severus saw a flitting glimpse of victory before Potter narrowed his eyes. "Did I?" he asked with a falsely sweet tone.

"Yes, strange, considering that you've been in bed all night last night. You would've triggered an alarm if you had somehow escaped, and Sigmus was in this room, healing you—"

"Escaped?" he questioned slowly, drinking in the word. "Have I become your prisoner?"

Severus ignored the question. "This person looked like you, wore the same clothes and glasses as you... in fact why are you wearing glasses again?"

"The children are safe, and my eyesight gets blurry from time to time."

He believed Potter. "How did you do it?"

"Er, does Bella know I've been demoted?"

"No. She had assumed you were higher than her in rank," Severus replied. "That's why she gave you the children."

"Exactly when did our master demote me?"

"He had rearranged the hierarchy only hours before you stole the children, when I spoke to him."

"I would rather have been punished publicly than suffer this."

"He is unhappy with you." Severus crossed his arms. "You procrastinated. So why didn't you go straight to him? This time tell me the truth. I promise I won't say a thing."

"Why are you interested?

Severus curled his lip. Because I had promised to protect you, you stupid, imbecilic twit.

"Have you forgotten that its taboo for Death Eaters to be questioning about each others lives and their missions?"

No, but that's why I use Miles to spy for me. "I'm trying to help you to survive."

Potter sighed. "I wanted to taste freedom, before it was gone again."

"That's not the truth."

"Tell me, Snape, do you feel free?"

He leaned forwards, staring into his green eyes. "What were you really doing?"

"Nothing…I just needed to…" He inhaled deeply, thinking. "To figure out where my life was heading, and see my—"

"Your sister. Did you want to finish her off—?"

"I want to condition her."

Surprised, Severus raised an eyebrow. "The Dark Lord will not allow you three children to condition."

Potter shrugged.

"You know, a few days in hiding won't halt your descent into hell."

"True." Potter turned away.

You wanted to abduct your sister but feel free… Severus resisted the urge to curse the information out of him. "Was your demotion worth it?"

"Well, it feels like I've just been on a holiday, so yeah," he smirked. "I'll sneak past you and darling Bellatrix again. Just you watch."

"The Dark Lord will not kill you because of your subordination."

"Oh, that's so nice of him."

"I'm sure he still has use for you."

"That makes me feel so valued."

"Mockery of the Dark Lord is treason." Exactly like his father. His son was just as arrogant, sarcastic and insufferable. "He'll let you keep the children, if indeed it was really you who took—"

"Yes, I stole them." Potter rolled his eyes.

"How?"

The boy rested his head on the pillow and didn't answer.

Severus whipped out his wand and pointed it into Potter's face. "Where are they?"

"Safe," the boy replied, glaring at the wand apprehensively. "Seriously, I'm not that scared little first year you bullied—"

"But you are still an arrogant brat, Potter. How did you leave this house without me and Sigmus knowing—?"

"How do you think I did it?" he seethed.

"I think you Confunded the old drunk after he divulged the sensitive information. You're powerful enough to turn off and on the Friend and Foe Alarms."

"Maybe you should've put special charms in my room to prevent me from escaping too," he laughed.

"It takes a week and several wizards and goblins to put up that magic," Severus answered. "You always had a competitive streak against Bella. This was the perfect opportunity to steal them. I wonder if you lust after her."

Anger was an understatement in the young wizard's face, as his green eyes blazed in rage.

Severus knew there was no lust, no passion between the two, only hate. He just wanted to taunt the boy. Yet, it seemed he had unwittingly hit upon a raw nerve, scraping a secret buried beneath the dirt. If only he could flip the pages of Potter's mind.

"Ahh… lovers' quarrels," he mocked.

"That bitch conditioned me—"

"Need I remind you that Death Eaters who willingly take the Dark Mark have no need of conditioning. They are simply mentored by a Death Eater, depending on blood status. And you, Potter, were bestowed with the greatest honor of any new recruit it seems—"

"To be mentored by one of the Notorious Thirteen." Potter's nostrils flared, but he quickly calmed down. "You're right, that wasn't the right word to use, but it didn't stop her from tormenting me."

"If you were given to me, I would have loved to make you suffer."

"I know," Potter agreed, glaring back.

Severus sighed. "I don't want to know what she did to you in the past; I just want to know how this all happened under my roof last night."

"The Pettigrew children are safe. When I got back here, I Obliviated Pritchard, turned the alarms back on and feigned sleep."

It was quite plausible that Potter did it, but it unsettled him.

The house had no need for Anti-apparition spells, as all Death Eater homes were under a Fidelius Charm; usually it was the Dark Lord himself who was the Secret Keeper.

"You're not a prisoner, Potter. You can leave, however you must tell me before you go." Severus gazed around the room; he would need to put some other spells up now. Not to prevent Potter doing what he wished, but against others who may infiltrate, both friends and enemies. Potter's arrival was bringing in so many unwanted visitors.

It was interesting, though, that Lord Grindelwald had also known the whereabouts of his house. Dumbledore was also Severus's Secret Keeper, before the Dark Lord insisted that his army select him to guard their locations. Severus couldn't refuse for obvious reasons. Powerful adjustments had been made to the charm to allow his master the privilege.

There was one thing about this war that Severus could not deny: that new and interesting spells had been created by both sides of the war, for better and worse.

However, Dumbledore had no right to put him in far greater danger than he already was by giving Grindelwald access to Severus's house. Now he had to protect himself from another Dark Lord. And what was the headmaster up to with Lord Grindelwald?

"Potter, before your escape, did you see anyone odd in Azkaban?"

"No. Half my cell had been blasted away, and the Atoners guarding the corridor were all dead or unconscious."

Severus began to pace the bedroom. "Then Bellatrix was alerted to an attack and rallied a few to help."

"Do you think it was Grindelwald?" Potter mused.

"Possibly…"

"Why would he, though? We're all his enemies."

"To make a statement."

Severus remembered Grindelwald prancing about Potter's bed, twisting his goatee. He seemed content to stare at the boy. There was an air of frivolity and invincibility to the wizard, like his years in prison did not affect him one bit. He left just as quickly as he had arrived. Like a mirage.

Straight after, Severus sent Dumbledore an angry message, and he scoured the house for any of Grindelwald's calling cards he'd left behind. None were present. And Dumbledore still hadn't sent a reply yet.

Potter rubbed his temples. "I now have a headache and I'm really tired. I want you to leave."

He did not move.

"Do you mind?" Potter yelled.

"Yes I do mind, ever since you knocked on my front door!" Scowling, Severus slapped his black robes back, strode across to the door. "Tomorrow, you'll start moving."

"Why are you taking care of me like this?"

"It is the Dark Lord's order."

"He went to you, Severus? Finally. A wise move… a very wise move…. Make sure you keep a close eye on him… And tell him, I do not take procrastination kindly."

"Does it have something to do with my mother?"

Severus turned around slowly. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out."

"I know a lot more than you think."

(******)

As Aunt Petunia continued screaming and chucking dangerous objects at Harry, her small pet dog was barking like mad. Harry managed to shove the canine into the cupboard under the stairs. The only reason the neighbours didn't come calling was because he had discreetly placed a Silencing Charm around the house.

"Aunt Petunia, please," he pleaded as he ducked, avoiding a hit from a flying frying pan. He forced his way into the kitchen, where his aunt now wielded a fish casserole.

"You're here to kill my family," she yelled, holding the casserole above her head.

Her eyes were bulging, and her horsey face displayed so much fear that it made Harry recoil. He had seen fear in the Dursleys whenever anything magic waved itself under their noses, and when Dudley had almost been killed by a Dementor. This fear, however, was worse.

"No, I'm just here because those children you saw are hungry, scared and injured," he calmly stated. And I just need help, he breathed. "Look, I know Harry is dangerous—"

"Harry? HARRY? YOU ARE HARRY!" Petunia screeched, throwing the casserole.

He jumped out of the way, colliding side-on with the fridge. The dish left a large dent on the wall, but failed to even shatter. Frustrated, and feeling more alone than ever, he watched Petunia grab a handful of utensils, holding a fork as if she was about to play darts.

"I'm not—If I was really here to kill you I would have done it already!"

Aunt Petunia scowled before throwing the fork.

"Please, have some heart. Their names are Ashley and Anthony. You've seen their faces. They need help."

"The're freaks like you!" she barked, a meat cleaver now dangling precariously above her head.

"Magical like me, but they're still children."

Aunt Petunia huffed. She seemed like she was about to argue that fact, however, she bit her tongue, refraining.

Harry continued, feeling like he was finally getting through to her. "Even though you hate me, you'd still patch me up when I'd hurt myself as a little kid," he said, with slight bitterness.

Petunia narrowed her eyes. "I've never—"

"But you'd help me." He never felt like using the Imperious Curse on anyone until now.

"I would never help freaks—"

"The point is, I'm asking you for your help now. Please? You might hate to help me, but I know you'd do it because deep down… deep down I know you must love your sister."

After a moment that seemed like an eternity in which Petunia seemed to purse all the blood out of her lips, she banged the cleaver onto the kitchen counter and gave him a piercing look. "I don't trust you."

"You don't have to."

There was another long pause, which made him want to lash out, to beg, to do anything to stay safely under her roof.

"Fine! I'll let you and those freaks stay here until Vernon and Dudders return from Australia in two weeks. I'll be watching you. If you dare try and kill me, I'll call the police, and I'll be armed."

Harry knew she'd be no match against any sort of magical attack, but he smiled. "Thank you."

"I have a few conditions."

"Sure, whatever."

"I don't want the three of you to set foot outside this house. Don't make so much noise. And no freakiness, do you understand?"

"Yes. Thanks. Thank you so much!"

Petunia gave him a sideways glance, a look that screamed of mistrust. "I'm only doing this because you saved Dudley's life last year."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I did?"

"Yes," she snapped, "from those Death people remember? A week after your brother died. They tormented us, the entire street, and Dudders was flung about and then one of them propelled him hundreds of feet into the air and dropped him. That's when you appeared, and saved him from hitting the ground. It was horrible. They killed his girlfriend…" There were tears falling on her face now. "My poor Dudders. He hasn't been the same since that day. He's been in and out of school ever since… and he'll need to repeat seventh year."

He was very confused. Why kill his brother one day and save Dudley's life the next? It made no sense whatsoever.

Harry had to sit down as he was feeling a little light-headed. He wasn't sure if it was hunger or shock.

"What happened after the attack? Were you helped?"

Petunia sniffled. "We had both your people and the government fix things up here. Came as a shock that the British Government knew what was really behind all the attacks and this damnable mist. We weren't allowed to live in our houses until all it was all cleared of magic and those Dementeds that patrolled afterwards. Mr Dumbledore helped us for awhile."

"I see."

"The three of you can use the spare bedroom upstairs." She eyed him suspiciously as she placed a first aid kit on the table. "I'll give you shelter and food, but don't expect me to mend their wounds."

Harry nodded.

Behind her, he spotted a picture of Dudley as a baby hanging on the wall. Dudley grew up chubby, but not the same as in his world, though Harry guessed, still spoilt. As he grew, the pictures showed something different. The Mirror cousin became burly, strong and athletic.

He wondered why his Mirror saved Dudley and his mind inevitably drifted off again, remembering everything he's learnt so far about his Mirror.

Harry started when Petunia snapped her fingers, exasperated by his lack of attention. "Have you been listening to a word I've said?"

Before he could reply, there was a tentative knock on the kitchen door. "Ha-Harry?" squeaked Ashley. "Is everything ok now?"

"Yes," he replied. He picked up the first aid kit and ushered Ashley towards the stairs to where her brother was.

Ashley could sense the distaste from the woman. "I don't like her," she whispered.

"Me neither, but she's our only chance to be safe. Come on, let's get washed."

The dog in the cupboard started growling again. He kicked the door in response.

After showing the kids the spare bedroom, they followed Harry into the bathroom. It finally seemed like the light at the end of a tunnel. Tony gingerly sat on the bathtub, while Ashley looked around the ghastly kitsch pink tiles and shower curtains.

"She's a weird Muggle," Tony said.

"She's just frightened of us."

Ashley turned on the tap in the sink and started to drink the water. Harry couldn't help but feel disgust at the state of the children being so filthy, hurt and starved.

Harry took a hand towel from the rack and soaked it in warm, running water. He sat Ashley down and carefully removed the muck from her face. He tried to do the same for Tony, though the boy struggled for a while, and eventually Harry gave up.

"I'll get some clothes while you two wash up." As Harry left the bathroom the children began to undress with uncertainty on their faces.

It took awhile before he could find some suitable clothes for them to wear, even with Aunt Petunia's reluctant help. Boxes of Dudley's old shoes and clothes from when he was a boy were in a cupboard. Two of Dudley's enormous shirts would be enough for the children's nightwear. Harry made up the bed for them in his Mirror old bedroom.

He was waiting outside of the bathroom when the door creaked open. "We're done," Tony announced.

Tony hugged the fluffy white towel as it cocooned him. He looked so fragile, so tiny without the grime. However, there would be no way to wash off the hideous facial scars. The boy seemed very self conscious about it too.

"Don't look at me like that," he stated, disappearing into the bathroom again.

Harry was engulfed in a cloud of steam and heat in the bathroom. The children clung to each other in their towels. He placed the pile of clothes on the stool and unlocked the first aid kit.

"Do you have any broken bones?" Harry asked.

Tony shook his head, speaking for his sister as well. "Is there healing magic you could use? We haven't had any training in it."

"I didn't learn how to heal with magic, sorry. I just know the Muggle way of things. If Hermione was here, she would've used the Dittany in her bag. That stuff helps a lot."

"Oh…" The boy was disappointed.

"Who's Hermione?" Ashley wondered.

"She's the cleverest witch in my year and one of my best friends." His voice drifted off, because thinking about Hermione made him long for her.

Tony cleared his throat. "I thought, maybe, you could help me with these scars." He touched his face lightly.

Harry wasn't sure if there was anything to help the boy. "Are you blind in your right eye?"

The boy nodded. Tony looked like Peter, the more Harry reflected. The boy's nose was like his father's and his good eye a watery blue. The hair that grew on the unburnt side of his face was blonde.

"What happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony growled, pulling up the harsh defences that Harry had noticed when he first met them.

"He's just asking," Ashley said quietly. "Bellatrix used fire when he was naughty—"

"Shut up!" Tony shouted.

"Hey, you shouldn't talk to her like that."

"I want to get dressed now. I don't need any stupid bandaids." Tony pulled a shirt on, before slipping out and into the spare bedroom.

Ashley sniffled, staring at the doorway. "He's always mean to me," she murmured, rubbing her eyes.

"Don't worry about it."

As he discarded packaging and swabs into the little waste bin, Ashley dressed herself and looked into the mirror as she stood on her toes. Unlike her brother, she did not look like Peter, except for her blue eyes.

"You did a very brave thing escaping," Harry said, catching her reflection in the mirror.

"The door was wide open and no one was around," she said. "And there was a note on the ground, and Tony knew what they meant."

"What did the note say?"

"It had a list of numbers and… and it took us to caves." The girl nodded. "Tony didn't want to go in the beginning, but I made him. We didn't go to the right caves, because we thought it was Bellatrix tricking us. We hoped to find the train station eventually…"

Harry wondered who had helped them and how his Mirror found out.

Ashley sighed, sadness washing over her face. "Harry, will my hair grow back?" She gingerly touched the wounds on her head. Her bristled brown hair was just beginning to peek out of her scalp.

"I think so," he replied. "What was your mother's name?" Harry asked, deciding to remind the girl of happier times as she stared into the mirror.

"Orla. She used to comb my hair every night, and tell me stories about princes and princesses, and tales of Irish knights," Ashley answered.

"Listen, you should go to bed. I'll bring up some lunch for you and your brother to eat a little later, all right?"

"Thanks, Harry, for everything. I thought you were bad, but I like you now."

He smiled, feeling like he was gaining her trust. "What does Tony think?"

Ashley frowned. "He still thinks you're tricking us." With those last words she left, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

Before he knew it, Harry had washed, dressed and standing in the doorway of the smallest bedroom in the house with a plate of sandwiches in one hand, and pen and paper in his other. The Pettigrew children were sleeping, arms entwined protectively over the other. They looked so peaceful, as children should be.

Harry bit into his sandwich, and suddenly he remembered how hungry he was. The thought of corned beef never seemed more appealing than now. He sat down cross-legged against the bed and ate, occasionally stopping when either of the children twitched from a bad dream.

When Harry was done, he wrote a letter to Dumbledore pleading for help, and hopefully in an hour or two, an owl would appear outside his window. Owls somehow knew when a wizard needed a letter sent.

He lay down on the floor, fluffed up a pillow and watched the cool misty sky through the lace curtains before finally, exhaustion took its grip and he fell asleep.

But his sleep was not peaceful.

He stood in a dark house. The curtains were drawn, bathing the house in a dark red glow. Glimpses of Death Eaters fluttered within his dream. He saw Snape, Lucius Malfoy, whose left side of his face was deeply scarred, looking more menacing than in his own world, and a witch with tattoos on every inch of her skin. He saw Voldemort draped in a black cloak embroidered in gold; the hood so far down that it covered his face, except for his chin.

Voldemort's wand snaked out of his robes, pointing it in Harry's direction. "'I don't give a fuck,' is what you told Bella." Voldemort's laugh shattered the silence.

Harry bowed, and when he stood up, he saw himself in the mirror to his side. He looked different and so tired of everything and everyone. Snape pulled his Mirror up by the gruff of his neck and he was hurtled towards Voldemort's feet. The toe of the Dark Lord's boot forced his chin up and Harry was made to stare into Voldemort's eyes.

"Do you now?" he hissed.

There was something different about the Voldemort of this world. His features seemed greyish and brittle. He looked frailer, though his strength deceived this notion.

"Maybe…"

It was in that moment that blinding white pain coursed through Harry's entire body as it was happening to his Mirror. He screamed and screamed, but there was no end to the agony ripping through his body. Then the pain ended and he was given a blissful reprieve.

"Leave us," Voldemort hissed to the others. The Death Eaters retreated, and they were alone together.

"You failed me, Harry."

"My apologies, Master. I'll try better this tim—"

"Too many times." Voldemort cursed him again with a lazy flick of his wand.

Harry woke from the dream and bolted upright. He instinctively touched the lightning bolt scar, tracing its very contours. It hadn't hurt an ounce since he had travelled into this Mirror Universe until now. Even with Voldemort right in the middle of his dream, his scar had not pained him as bad as those in his own world. It was a dull prickling sensation, like it had been the ghost of his real connection.

Of course, thought Harry. If I have a connection with my Mirror, I might as well have a connection with Mirror Voldemort… but, but wouldn't my connection stop with a different Voldemort if it had only been a link created by a backfired curse?

Questions buzzed in his head like frenzied bees. But he didn't want to think about the frightening ramifications of this connection in this world, and more importantly in his own.

He sat up drenched in sweat. He shook his head, realising that the prospect of seeing into his Mirror's mind scared him even more than Voldemort himself. He was used to Voldemort and his evils, though not his Mirror's.

"Are you ok, Harry?" Ashley asked.

He moved his fingers away from his scar, feeling very shivery and hot. "Just a bad dream..."

The little girl grimaced, averting her eyes. "I have plenty of those."

I bet you do. He tucked the little girl in, and then made sure Tony was asleep. "Is there anything you'd like to do tomorrow, you know, to make you feel better?"

She bit her lip, before widening her eyes. "Can I draw again?"

"Of course, whatever you like."

She smiled and closed her eyes. Harry made sure she was sleeping before checking Privet Drive for an owl. None were seen, so he stepped outside the room, wincing when his scar hurt.

Voldemort was severely angry with his Mirror. Harry gripped the balustrade as his scar continued to hurt.

He made his way through the Dursley's house, now cleaned from the mess his arrival had created. He heard his aunt chopping vegetables in the kitchen rather vigorously. The little dog in the hallway growled at his approach.

Petunia turned around, holding the knife up. "What do you want now?"

He gripped the table as that strange feeling overcame him again. "Nothing."

"You look like you need a cup of tea." She went back to hacking her vegetables for her stew, and did not lift a single finger to put the kettle on to boil.

He looked around, wincing in pain. Harry needed to be distracted from the uneasy feelings he felt, so he asked questions, hoping to find out a little more about this world. "Are you in contact my mother?"

Petunia's knife paused. "No, not since…" She tensed. "I do not have contact with the freaks of your world."

"Er, how-how is Dudley?" He figured he should've started with a question that would've softened her a little.

Petunia grabbed a handful of chopped carrots and dropped them into the pot. "He has recovered from his injuries, and was almost expelled from Smeltings for unruly behaviour and obtaining drugs. Vernon thought it was best to get him away from here, and take him somewhere for a holiday to harden him up again."

"Right…"

"Your people killed our neighbours, Dudley's friends, and tortured many. We were so terrified. Out of all the streets in the world, why pick this one? Was it some sick joke from your side? What did you tell them to make them come here?" she spat.

"Aunt Petunia, they all know I have Muggle relatives—"

"I'll never forget the look on your face when you tried to wake Dudley."

"Why's that?"

"It was as though you were torn. I can't describe it." Petunia closed her eyes. "It was as though you were half happy, half sad. It was only a split second, but I could see it burning in your eyes… then you knocked me unconscious."

He could clearly sense the mistrust in his aunt.

"What happened to your brother?" she asked.

"I just killed him."

"You're keeping secrets."

"Of course I am."

She pursed her lips. "Two days after the attack on my street, I went to your brother's funeral. That was the last I saw of your mother… Your father almost cursed me when I mentioned my doubts about you, and Mr Dumbledore walked away from me. Everyone brushed me off, saying that Harry had made a mistake not killing my son."

Harry thought that was a bit harsh. "What's the Muggle—I mean—your world without us like?"

"Horrible. This mist," Petunia waved at the foggy weather outside the kitchen window, "has been a phenomenon in the U.K for many years. It's spreading to the continent. From what I heard from your lot, it's because of those Dementeds breeding."

"Dementors," said Harry, gently correcting her.

"Normal people are disappearing in record numbers. Others end up like vegetables or insane and then there are people who turn up dead—bitten to shreds. Then homes and buildings, cities are destroyed.

"The government knows and is terrified – but they made up a story that it's terrorism from the Green Skulls.

"Two Prime Ministers have been killed by the Dementeds in the last twenty-eight years. People are scared and leaving the UK in droves and there's a curfew after dark. In many cities the army has been employed to keep the streets safe. What good are tanks, when they're dealing with your lot? No one helps us. The U.N turns a blind eye, and the other countries don't help us much because they know that only wizards can fight wizards. The bad side is so powerful, so they kill us for fun.

"It's mass murder, Harry. It's genocide of the Normal folk." She pointed her finger into his direction. "It's your people destroying our world!"

So this is life if Neville had died and if Voldemort had never been vanquished. Harry was shivering. "That's just horrible."

She laughed. "What an understatement." Petunia stirred the pot, the gentle steam giving off a pleasant savoury aroma. "Now, if you please, I'd like to enjoy my dinner alone." But she did ladle a bowl full of stew for him to eat. Full to the brim, which was something she never did in his world.

(******)

It was midnight at Godric's Hollow when a piercing scream rang out from Christopher's bedroom. Lily bolted out of bed. But James had gotten to their bedroom door first, and sprinted across the hallway. Her heart was pounding, fearing the worst.

James burst into their youngest son's room, armed. But there was no Harry, Death Eater, or Voldemort around. It was Jessica who stood at the foot of Christopher's bed.

Michael pushed past James, but he stopped, staring first at his brother, then his sister. The tension in his shoulders somewhat relaxed and he rolled his eyes. "Thanks for waking us up, Chris."

"Shut up!" the boy shouted, pointing at Jessica, "she was muttering a spell at me."

James raised an eyebrow as he lifted his little girl into his arms, pulling her dark hair from her eyes. "Is that true, Jess, were you muttering an incantation?"

Lily sat on Chris's bed, and held the shaking boy in her arms. She was, however, still were focused on her daughter.

"I thought she was a Death Eater!" His eyes were wide like saucers, not a trace of sleep still in them now.

Jessica shook her head. "I'm a good girl. I'm a good girl, Daddy…" She burst into tears, and hid her face in the crook of his shoulder. "I-I was just trying to protect him."

"Protect him from what, darling? That's Mummy and Daddy's job," Lily spoke.

"From the black that smells of death."

It was the way she said those peculiar words that sent a shiver up Lily's spine. James looked so concerned.

"This is all Harry's fault," Michael shouted as he left the room. He slammed his bedroom door shut.

Lily couldn't, however, shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Nor shake the feeling that something was about to happen

Half an hour, four cups of strong teas and two butterbeers later; Lily tucked Jessica into bed, and kissed her forehead. She brushed her daughter's fringe away and picked up a strand of her black hair that lay on the pillow. She pocketed the hair, saving it.

"Mummy, why do you always test my hair? Am I sick? Is it the black that smells of death that is making me sick?"

"Shhh, rest now," Lily said softly, trying to keep her anxiety at bay. "I'm just making sure you are okay."

She was about to leave when she heard her little girl's soft voice. "Mummy."

"Yes, dear?"

"If I was bad, would you put me in Azkaban?"

"Oh, no, sweetheart, I wouldn't do that to you."

"But you put Harry there."

Lily felt her heart squeeze because Jessica was right.

"That's because it was too late for Mummy and Daddy to help Harry through his troubles, and he did some very bad things and became friends with the wrong people."

"Dumbledore's got Harry spying on Malfoy. There's no way he's really friends with him," Sirius once told her. "And that's the reason why he's brushing off Ron and Hermione lately, and even Charlie."

She was too busy with the Order, protecting everyone else, that in the end she failed to protect her own children.

Lily was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she could not remember ever getting back into bed.

"James?'

"Hmmm?"

The darkness between them felt thick all of a sudden.

"We should take Jessica to St Mungo's—"

"If you even set foot into St Mungo's, Voldemort and the Ministry will be after you."

"She needs specialised help."

"We can't afford to go there."

"Nothing will happen."

"What makes you think you're so invincible? Voldemort hasn't forgotten that you rescued those kids from Malfoy's secret hidey-hole. And might I add, without approval by the Order in the first place. He's after you, Lily."

Lily cringed. James had never forgotten the incident where a group of Muggleborn children were being held captive after receiving fake Hogwarts letters. They were told to meet at a certain place, only to be abducted.

Dumbledore had refused to raid the place, ignoring Lily's protests. It was an opportunity too hard to miss, since Malfoy had forgotten to add some protective charms around the place. In the end, she banded a few of Order members together, all mothers, and rescued the children themselves. "At least I cursed Lucius so badly that he's scarred."

"Two mothers died in that raid, and two were injured."

Hot guilt pulsed through her veins.

"He is after you," James repeated.

"I don't think he'll attack us at St Mungos."

"Remember what happened to Gladys Harrigan?" James said, facing Lily in the dark. "Mother to that boy we found dead in Cumbria? Greyback ripped him to shreds because his parents had escaped from Voldemort's indoctrination."

Lily hated when James brought up all the memories. "Stop it!"

"His mother went after Greyback. But he snuffed her out too, and he dropped her mangled corpse in front of the Ministry as a warning."

"I don't want to hear anymore, James."

"I've lost two sons already and I don't want to lose you too."

"Severus won't let that happen to me." Why did I say that?

James's mouth opened, like a fish out of water. For a wild moment, Lily thought he might do something drastic. Lily hadn't spoken about Severus to James since they had found out he was made Potions Master at Hogwarts eighteen years previously.

Suddenly, James roared in laughter. "What? Snape protecting you? Oh my God, you've gone bonkers!"

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Just because Severus hates you for all the abuse you put him through, doesn't mean he would betray me—"

James flung his sheets over and started pacing the bedroom. "Right, let me get this straight…" Even though it was dark, she could see him running his hands through his hair. "I know you had a strange relationship with Snivellus as a kid, but are you still in contact with him?"

Lily bit her lip and didn't answer.

"Are you mad?" he hissed.

"James—"

"Are you having an affair with him?" he asked without consideration.

"NO!" Lily shouted. Her heart was pounding. "How-how dare you even consider that!"

"Why then?"

"Be-because Severus is my only link to Harry!" There, she finally said it. Their correspondences, which had started as soon as Harry had been imprisoned, were always short and sharp, but it still felt like a dirty secret.

James was stunned and sat limply onto the bed. Lily bit her lip; she wasn't sure what to do now and how to console her husband. She wasn't sorry for her actions one bit.

"I just want to be kept updated with what Harry is up to—He's back with Voldemort now—The Mirror story was a lie. He came here to—"

"I don't want to talk about him," James lashed back. "And cut your links with that snake!"

James marched out of their bedroom, and Lily feeling hot tears well in her eyes. She didn't have the energy to chase after him.

"Bloody hell," Michael yelled from across the corridor. "Can we get some sleep tonight?"

10. Questions

Questions

"You're an absolute disgrace, boy," Severus hissed, while staring at the ruined antique Armenian rug covered in Potter's vomit. He let in some fresh air and cleaned the mess with a cleaning charm, although a slight oily smell lingered.

Potter yawned, covering his eyes from the light from where he slept on the couch. "Finally cleaning are you?"

Severus crossed his arms, standing over the boy. "Do you remember our meeting with the Dark Lord?"

"He didn't damage my mind, Snape."

"Get up and wash yourself. You smell worse than the Hogwarts dungeons."

"Don't tell me what to do," he mumbled, throwing aside his blanket.

"If it bothers you then," Severus softly said, "then leave my house."

Potter seethed as he wobbly stood up. "I bet you enjoyed that little torture session."

Severus shrugged. He would be lying if he said no. "Your father always made it his mission to humiliate me. I was always his sick entertainment."

"I noticed that your Cruciatus was the longest," Potter growled, twitching. "I'm shocked Bellatrix wasn't invited."

"I'm however, surprised you were punished in secret. You should've been reprimanded at Hogwarts by the Mudbloods to within an inch of your life."

"The Death Eaters would've loved to watch me being ripped to shreds. Especially you."

"I wouldn't dream of missing a good show."

Potter laughed. "Our master said Azkaban was enough torment, hence why it was a private affair."

"And what of the Conditioned?"

"He said it was an issue Bella and I had to sort out among ourselves."

"You were let off too lightly," Severus said.

"He was lenient because I had disregarded Dumbledore when he visited me in Azkaban two months ago."

"Hmmph." Severus had questions to ask. It was now or never and he didn't care that it was taboo.

"Tell me, Potter, there's a rumour that you had set the trap for Dumbledore to fight the Dark Lord. Is it true?"

The boy scoffed at him. "If I did, then where was I at his defeat? I would've wanted a front row seat just to watch him go down."

"Yes, where were you? I also heard that you were summoned several times during the fight, but you never turned up."

Potter looked at him with a calculating expression. "I was sleeping, Snape."

"No. You were not at home."

"How do you know?'

"Your mother told me."

In silence, Potter regarded him with an unblinking gaze.

Severus went on, "so what were you doing, that was so important as to disobey the Dark Lord's command?"

"None of your business, Snape!"

But Severus continued with relish. "What about after Dumbledore fell? You went missing for months."

"I was doing research in Albania. The Dark Lord sent me there for my disobedience."

But you were doing research for Dumbledore... Which was the truth? He had seen Draco give Dumbledore the boy's messages during his recovery. Severus had tried getting the truth from them both. But they gave him nothing but answers that were just as cryptic as Potter's letters.

"Since you're throwing all caution to the wind, I might ask you some questions too," Potter snapped.

"Challenging me now? I am above you, don't forget—"

"Where were you during Dumbledore's defeat?"

Severus pursed his lips. "I was not summoned. Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?"

Potter rubbed his chin in thought. "I've always suspected that you and Dumbledore were… ah… close."

"Close?" Likewise, Potter, likewise.

"You're working for him, aren't you?"

Severus hid his annoyance. "I'm not even going to answer that disgusting question, Potter. Dumbledore is weak, always had been."

The boy smirked in response. What else did he know about him?

"And I don't like your accusatory tone."

Potter smiled back, his eyes twinkling with malice.

"What makes you believe that I would betray the Dark Lord?"

"In the living room, next to the fireplace, you have a magically locked trinket box full of purple Floo powder. Only The Order has that Floo powder. Why else would you use it, if it wasn't to contact Dumbledore?"

Severus would need to hide the Floo powder more securely. "Use your brain, boy. Who would I contact to make sure they're safe?"

"Oh, you really need to stop!" he laughed. "You know my dad won't be happy about this secret communication thing you've going with my mum." He laughed. "Why keep them safe anyway—?"

"I just want your mother safe. Besides, you shouldn't care about what your parents think," Severus silkily replied. "You are not their son anymore. You are nothing but a murdering Death Eater who has committed fratricide."

"Don't worry, Snape, I won't tell the Dark Lord about your sick passion for my—"

"He knows," he hissed. "And when we win this war he has promised me your mother as my reward."

Potter seemed unfazed by this statement. "That's if I don't kill her first... Are we finished here?" he threatened.

"Not quite. Before we forget that this discussion ever happened," Severus said, straightening up. There were many more questions, like the periods of absences from Hogwarts, but they would have to wait. "How old were you when you became a Death Eater?"

Potter huffed. "I was eleven."

"I never saw you with Bellatrix until you were sixteen."

"You saw me several times in disguise," he replied. "I was a sleeper at Hogwarts until I was thirteen."

"What happened when you were thirteen?"

"Dumbledore thought I was the one that could live up to some stupid prophecy and I began my training with him. I'm sure you'd know all about that prophecy."

Severus was furious that Dumbledore would even tell the boy. "Right, but why change sides? You were eleven—?"

"We're done." The boy staggered past him. "You've asked enough—"

"Show me your curse scar!"

Potter turned around, furious. His hand swiped his forehead and a lighting bolt scar appeared. "Happy?"

"Very." Why were Dumbledore, Lily, bloody Lupin, and even Shacklebolt suddenly so interested in the boy's scars? "Is it cursed? What does it do to you?"

"It's not cursed. It just happened the night I broke out, and unfortunately I can't heal that well!"

"And you then decided to play games with the Order."

Potter sneered. "Just a bit of fun."

"Right... Don't bother getting washed, I have work for you." Once and for all, he could tell Lily to shut up and that her son was genuinely insane.

"What sort?" Potter stretched his skinny limbs and ruffled his insatiable hair, but he still looked very wary at him.

"Housework." Severus enjoyed the boy's expression of disgust as he approached him.

"Bollocks!"

He suddenly whipped Potter's head back so violently that he buckled under the force. "Whilst you sit your bony arse in my house, you will do. Every. Little. Thing. I. Say! Do you understand?"

Severus was sick of him. Sick of his insolent behaviour, sick of the damn way he cocked his eyebrow, just like his father, and the way his raven hair stuck up. Everything about him was sinking under his skin like poisoned needles.

Potter's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He shook the boy by the hair. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"YES!"

He threw him to the ground. The boy massaged his scalp while Severus fished out a list of chores. He just flicked the piece of paper onto Potter's lap.

(******)

Three hours passed before he inspected the boy's progress.

Potter sat cleaning out a dirty cauldron filled with dead flobberworms. Wand work wouldn't help since the slugs were impenetrable with magic. The other cauldrons were in a bad state as well.

Severus sniffed the cauldrons as Potter flexed his fingers. Smirking, he pointed out that he had missed several spots and to clean it again, but this time more vigorously.

"This is house elf work, Snape. I'm not some stupid servant of yours," Potter retorted.

"There was once a time when you had actually treated house elves with respect and courtesy."

"And since when have you cared about house elves?"

"It's a simple fact, Potter: they're worth more than you are."

"Funny, our master didn't think so when he ordered their mass genocide."

"Just clean the cauldrons," he exasperated, "I will return in an hour."

He heard the boy growl and next, he felt something smack his back. Severus looked down to see the putrid rag Potter was using to clean the cauldrons. It would take several washes to get the smell of rotting flobberworms out of his robes now.

"Pick. It. Up."

"And if I don't?"

"Well then, cleaning cauldrons will be the last thing you ever do with your hands. Pick it up."

"No."

"Would you like me to start treating you like a Conditioned? Or worse still, a Mudblood slave? I can strip you naked and put a collar around your neck right now."

"You can't, Snape." He didn't pick up the stupid rag. "I demand respect!"

"But you're not respecting my seniority. Remember, I am above you in rank again."

Potter was becoming more bold and unreasonable as he recovered from his imprisonment in Azkaban.

"NOW!"

Finally, Potter's hand jerked towards the rag, but he then pulled it back in defiance.

Furious, Severus whipped his wand into the air, ready to curse, but was distracted by the doorbell suddenly ringing. He cursed loudly and shoved his wand back into his robes. He rushed out, but not before he noticed Potter letting out a breath of relief.

Severus entered the hallway to find his house elf being kicked aside by Bellatrix Lestrange. Her sister Narcissa Malfoy followed behind.

"Severus, so good to see you," Narcissa purred, gripping his hand in a strong handshake.

Bellatrix's heavily hooded eyes searched the living room, hallway and beyond. She opened door after door in a state of hysterics.

"Where is he?" Bella screeched.

He ignored her outburst as he shut the front door. Over the last few days, he had had more visitors than he'd ever had in his entire lifetime. He was starting to miss the quiet solitude of Spinner's End.

"Where's the thief? I want to kill him!"

"Do you think that's wise," he asked in return, "considering he is still the Dark Lord's favourite?"

"I tried to stop her, Severus, but—"

"Shut up, Cissy!"

"It's wise to listen to your sister once in awhile. And how," Severus continued, "did you know Potter was here?" He stared at Narcissa, knowing that Lucius must have told her. She simply smiled coldly at him.

"Where's that filthy traitor?"

"The Dark Lord won't be happy if you—"

"We are not his equals, Snape," Bella hissed, "we are above him in rank now—back where we belong. Making Potter his right hand man was a glitch as far as I'm concerned."

"I agree with you—"

"But he should've been punished in public! I have that right. I am his MENTOR!"

"The Dark Lord says Potter had suffered enough—"

"I DON'T CARE!"

"You're angry and that's quite understandable."

"Those children were MINE!" Bella shouted. "I know the boy had something to do with their escape!"

Severus scowled. "If the boy let them free, he would've caught them a lot earlier, Bellatrix."

"Let it go. We will get you some new ones," said Narcissa, patting her sister's shoulder. "Draco will help you."

But Bellatrix shrugged her away. "I want these ones, Cissy. Their parents killed my husband. I want them back."

An uneasy silence followed as the Death Eaters stood rooted on the spot. Bellatrix was breathing heavily, while Narcissa watched on.

Then Potter walked bravely into the room. "Oh, it's just you, Mentor. I thought it was a screaming banshee,"

Severus grimaced. He could've handled the situation without him.

Bellatrix suddenly launched at Potter, fingers grasping his robes, their noses almost touching.

"Where's my brood? What have you done with them?"

"They're safe."

"Bring them to me."

"I can't."

"You can't or you won't?" Bella shook him. "You'll bring them to me or I shall pick off your family, one by one. I'll leave the best till last, you–my troubled boy–I will disembowel you while you beg for mercy."

"That seems like a boring way to go," Potter chuckled, his green eyes blazing.

"Think I'm funny, do you? Perhaps I'll take your sister. Maybe I might even condition her."

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" the boy shouted, hands around Bellatrix's throat.

She did not recoil as Severus expected her to, but she was excited. She seemed to absolutely love this moment of hatred and thrive on it. Bellatrix whispered something into Potter's ear. Severus caught the word, Atoners, before he saw the boy grow pale.

"You?" Potter drew back in shock. Bellatrix licked her lips, smiling. "You're sick!" he snarled. He smashed the witch against the wall, making her feet dangle slightly.

What was that about? thought Severus. He gripped his wand.

Bellatrix looked down at his furious face, laughing. "Attacking your mentor, now? The Dark Lord—"

"Our master is expecting us to squabble and fight," Potter hissed. "He wants to be entertained!"

This sobered the witch slightly and she scowled at the boy. "Let go of me."

Potter's eyes flashed, this time with a slight red glint of victory.

"Now, now," Severus interrupted, prising Potter away from her. "He will bring the children here. I would like to see them myself," he added.

Potter clenched his jaw. "It'll be difficult."

Bellatrix massaged her neck. "I'll be back in two days."

"Two days, Mentor? That seems a bit long—I know you're an impatient bitch most of the time."

Bellatrix sneered, with a murderous look on her face. "I have important missions in Europe to attend—making sure the Dark Lord's sleeping minions are all up to his standards…Up to a standard which I know you're not of, Potter," she said, flicking up an eyebrow.

The boy glimpsed the grandfather clock near the fireplace. "That's your failure, Mentor, not mine."

(******)

Harry didn't know how long he had slept for. Sleepy-eyed, drenched in sweat, and feeling as though he was recovering from something, he looked around and found that the bed empty and made up, and the children nowhere to be seen.

"SHIT!" He rushed out of the room in a panic. He hoped they didn't run off or his Mirror stole them back. But hearing their voices downstairs in the kitchen made him relax. He jumped the last six stairs and was relieved to see them eating breakfast, while Aunt Petunia washed the dishes.

"Finally," Tony said, before he continued eating his toast.

"How long was I asleep?" Harry asked, taking a seat at the table. He helped himself to toast, bacon, eggs and sausages. He had more food to eat than he had ever had at the Dursleys.

"Too long!" Aunt Petunia replied curtly. "You haven't been well. Since you're awake now, and better, I will be doing some shopping. So no funny business while I'm out."

An owl flew past the window and his aunt noticed as well. "Finally those stupid birds have arrived."

"Er, you haven't told anyone that we're here have you?" he questioned, eying two owls perched on next door's roof.

She shook her head, and plucked a pink envelope out of her apron. "I haven't had the opportunity until now. I have been told that the mist can confuse then." She pulled the letter out. "Should I send it? But I'm worried that sending it might attract the Death people."

"It's a risk we need to take. I need to send one to Dumbledore too." He gulped on his toast, feeling the letter in his pocket. "What does yours say?"

"Just that you are here with two children and you haven't killed me yet."

Harry gave her his approval to send it. Hopefully Dumbledore will help him now that his Mirror aunt was on his side.

He noticed that Ashley was staring avidly at him with a little milk moustache on her top lip.

"Did you two have a good rest?" asked Harry. They nodded. "Good. You're both looking better, and Ashley, your hair is growing."

"Really?" the little girl cried, touching her head. "Thanks."

Petunia walked into the kitchen as Harry washed his plate. He turned around, seeing her in the exact same salmon pink coat she had in his world. She stuffed some post into her handbag, including that letter, and pursed her lips. "Rememb—"

"No funny business, gotcha."

And with a little hmph, she took one last look at the house before leaving, in case Harry destroyed it.

"Come along, Charles," Aunt Petunia called to her dog. She clasped the leash to his neck and off they went.

Harry closed the front door, letting the silence pervade. It was the first time he had a proper chance to look around. It looked almost the same, except for tiny differences, like the curtains, and different photographs of the family and obviously the addition of the dog.

There were plenty of photos of Dudley from a baby til now. In one photo he wore dirty red and white rugby gear and held up a trophy. There was another picture of Dudley wearing a suit and tie, his arms around a lovely blonde-haired girl. Harry presumed this was the girlfriend killed by Death Eaters.

After sending his letter off with a tawny owl, he then walked into the hall, spotting the Dursleys' telephone. He decided to dial a number. Heart pounding, he waited for someone to pick up the phone, instead the answering machine spoke and he heard the familiar fast voice he missed.

"Hello, you've reached the Grangers' residence. We're not here at the moment, but please leave a message after the beep... 'Beeeeeeeep.'"

Harry was about to hang up when Hermione's voice spoke.

"If you can hear this, then you are genuinely worried about our welfare. We are safe in Australia, and I've enrolled at the Killibinbin School of Magic in Victoria.

"We will return when the war is over, but for now, good luck and stay safe, 'Beeeeeeeep.'"

Harry placed the phone back on the receiver. He was happy that she was safe with her family. Safe as a Muggleborn could be. He wondered what Mirror Ron was like too.

There was a small calendar near the phone and he did a double take: 31st of July. It was his birthday. Funnily enough, he didn't care that he was now eighteen.

He moved on and opened up the cupboard under the stairs, which was filled with golf clubs and shoes, and two dangling spiders. He closed the door and found Ashley twiddling her thumbs, with Tony leaning against the wall of the cupboard.

"What's going to happen now?" Tony probed. "We can't stay here forever. Your aunt's already told us a million times."

Harry paced up and down, pausing every so often to look out the window in the living room.

"I need to get back home, but first—"

"Your parents won't have you back." Tony rolled his eyes as they sat down on the couch.

"I don't have any parents where I'm from. I want you to trust me. But to do that, I need to tell you my story." Harry took a deep breath and ignored the boy's sceptical look. "I haven't been entirely truthful from the start, but I will now if you're willing to hear me out."

Tony just cocked an eyebrow. "Go on, tell us then."

The boy always had that tone of resignation in his voice.

"I'm Harry, yes, but a different Harry Potter. I'm from a Mirror Universe... I'm not a Death Eater, I'm not a murderer. I'm just… me." Harry held his breath.

For a few moments there was nothing but silence. Then Ashley spoke. "Is Hogwarts opened in your world?"

"Yes. I think it still is. At least it was when I accidentally came here, but it's full of bad people now and we have our own war to deal with."

"Is your world like ours, I mean, with the war?"

"You believe him, Ash?" Tony snorted.

"I do!" She stood up. "He hasn't killed us or hurt us yet, and he took us to a Muggle."

"Look, I don't know what else I can do to make you believe in me, Tony—"

"Take us to Ireland right now. Our Mum's cousin lives there. He might take us in."

"Dumbledore will come get us soon."

"We don't want to go to the Order!" the boy shouted angrily. "We don't want anything to do with them."

"I'm doing what's the best for you two. Dumbledore will take you to Ireland. Besides, I need to get my belongings back and go home."

"What about our world?" Ashley squeaked. "The other Harry is still going to be bad, you know." She was grasping to whatever little hope she had gained when he had rescued her and Tony. It really pained Harry that he was not the hero she was looking for.

"I'm sorry Ashley, but I don't belong here." I have my own war to fight.

(******)

Severus paced his kitchen. "Where are you, Potter?" The boy had been gone for two days and any moment now Bellatrix would arrive demanding Potter show her the children. Dumbledore had known for two weeks where the children were kept, but it was too dangerous to attempt a rescue.

"Do you think it was Draco who let them loose?"

"The boy is tight-lipped about it, Albus. He says he never knew they were housed there, which is a possibility."

The alarms reverberated in the house. He turned around and stood face to face with a smiling, immaculately dressed Grindelwald.

"I thought my Anti-apparition Spell was foolproof against normal wizards."

"Oh? And Splinch a nice old chap like myself? I had tinkered with a counter-charm yesterday for this very purpose. I knew you'd keep me out."

Severus curled his lip. "Nice old chap? Anything but."

Grindelwald's grin widened and Severus felt the tension rising in the room. He must tell Dumbledore to put a leash on this wizard. "Don't let your master find out about your little spell, he wouldn't be too happy about it."

"I'd tell him I'm worried about Bellatrix harming the boy. Why are you here now? This is dangerous. I'm expecting some unsavoury visitors."

"Where's Harry?" Grindelwald inquired.

"I haven't seen him in days."

"I lost track of him in Wiltshire. He sent me on a wild goose chase."

"I'd do that too if you wouldn't stop following me. Are you spying on him?"

Grindelwald simpered, "I watch the boy for Dumbledore and you watch the boy for Voldemort."

"I think there's more to it." Severus wagged a finger at the wizard. "You know that whilst the boy is under my guidance, I am the one watching him for Dumbledore."

"And yet, do you know where he is?"

"He is completing an errand for me. Now, does Dumbledore know that you're here?"

"Of course not."

"Then get out of my house," Severus snarled.

Then the doorbell sounded. Bellatrix and Narcissa had arrived. He swore and pointed his wand at Grindelwald. "Get out the back, into the courtyard, wave about your little counter-charm and Disapparate the hell out of my property!"

"I want to talk to Harry. Don't let him leave again."

There was a threat in the wizard's voice, but Severus didn't care. He jerked his wand at the wizard, as Bellatrix knocked hard. "Trying to recruit Potter?"

Grindelwald laughed as the darkness of the hallway swallowed him up. "Goodbye Severus. You have been very obstructive to my plans."

The house elf opened the door, letting in the witches. Severus swore again when Grindelwald Disillusioned himself. He knew the wizard wouldn't leave. This was not going to be a delightful evening.

"SEVERUS!" Bellatrix shrilled.

(******)

It was almost dinnertime when Petunia entered the house, her dog barking beside her. She saw Harry's face and was relieved to see the house still intact. "Have you made dinner yet? Don't expect me to feed those kids again."

"I've fed them; they're fascinated by how your television works now. Don't worry they haven't touched anything."

As his aunt ate in peace, Harry sat with the children talking about the world.

"I'm grateful the Ministry hasn't been taken over yet."

"It almost was. A few times," Tony replied, still mistrusting Harry. "But the Ministry's evil so I don't care if the Dark Lord takes it over. Then there's Dumbledore… He was badly injured when he fought the Dark Lord, there's not much he could do against anyone."

"Who do you think is winning?"

"The Dark Lord. He's got spies and alliances in Europe, and even there people are killed, and their kids are starting to be conditioned now."

"When you two were with Bellatrix, did you ever overhear anything about Voldemort or about any of his plans?

"Not much. We were locked away most of the time at Malfoy Manor. Normally a Conditioned is kept secret until they're ready to become a Death Eater."

"Bella seemed worried..." Ahsley added.

"About what?"

Tony shrugged. "She told us that Grindelwald is back and that in September, I was to become a Beauxbaton's student and recruit the kids and spy on the teachers, see where their loyalties lie. See where the weak points are in the school—"

"Voldemort is planning to attack there?"

"Yeah and more places. But first, our master needs to protect England from Grindelwald, and then he can fully focus abroad."

"OH! Death Eaters have started going missing," Ashley piped up. She was quite pleased she was able to help give him information.

"Sometimes Bella throws us The Daily Prophet to keep us occupied when she leaves for a mission. That's how we know a lot."

"She usually locked us away for days without food too," Ashley added.

"When did Grindelwald escape?"

"Late last year."

Harry's stomach lurched. "Tell me more about Voldemort. Any rumours about him… anything? What is he like here?"

"We've never met him." Tony replied. "Once during training, Lucius interrupted us and he and Bella spoke that the Dark Lord might not be himself anymore. They were whispering, but Bella said he can act strange at times, showing uncontrolled magic, surrounded by a black aura. Sometimes he had no magic at all. Bella then caught me eaves-dropping... she... burnt me..."

"I'm sorry," said Harry, not expecting that sort of information.

Tony gulped. "Something must have happened to make Lucius question our Mentor about the Dark Lord though."

The doorbell rang.

Harry froze and immediately told the children to hush up and to hide behind the couch. He pulled out his wand in case, as he heard his aunt open the front door. Maybe it was Dumbledore, he hoped.

"Hello? Hello… anyone there?" The door closed again with a snap. "Neighbourhood brats," Petunia hissed, locking the door.

Then the lights went out. In the dark, Aunt Petunia screamed. Mirror Harry appeared in front of his terrified aunt.

"Hello Aunt Petunia," he said.

"Th-there's two of y-you?" she spluttered.

A/N: Killibinbin is an Australian Aboriginal word meaning bright or shine.

11. The Black Square

A/N: Trigger warning for suicide, murder, violence, drug use, torture and rape references in the next few chapters. Nothing graphic.

The Black Square

Petunia gasped. "This is madness! I've gone mad, haven't I?"

"No, you haven't," said Harry. He then focused on his Mirror. "How did you find us?"

"I told you I'd track you down. I never expected that you'd come here though. Smart! I watched Privet Drive for a bit this morning and hit the jackpot. Then I intercepted Petunia's letter." He pulled a crumbled pink letter from his pocket and threw it at Harry.

He quickly glanced down.

Dear Mr Dumbledore,

You told me to contact you if my nephew was seen. Harry is in my house with two children. They will not harm me. They are safe, but they can't stay for long. Please come.

Petunia Dursley

"Touching, isn't it? It's like she almost cares. And I got yours too. Dear Sir, I need to talk with you. I can't say much more in this letter, blah, blah, blah." He scowled. "Harry, I told you not to contact him."

"Did you really think I was going to obey you? You're a Death Eater!" He dropped Petunia's letter.

But the Mirror pointed at the children now hiding behind Harry's back. Ashley shook her head and whimpered, her fingers tightening around his arm.

"Give them to me."

"No way!"

"The Conditioned belong to me. I said I'd track you down to collect them."

Harry couldn't believe this. "Did you want me to find them?"

"There was a small chance, yeah. Now everyone is wondering where I'm keeping them. So I'm here to take them. Got a problem with that?"

"Yes I do—Stupefy!"

The Mirror flicked the spell away like it was a bothersome insect. Suddenly the air seemed to thicken with echoes. A dancing black orb appeared between his hands.

"You really need to start using non-verbals more, Harry," the Mirror admonished as the black orb grew.

"I'm getting better at it." Harry backed away from the swirling black thing. The hair prickled on the back of his neck. This was Dark magic at its most powerful, and suddenly, there was a part of him that was fascinated by the Mage's power.

With an enormous push, the Mirror's black sphere plunged forward, turning into ribbons of smoke. Terrifying screams pitched from it, like it was alive and in agony, ready to eat Harry whole.

He fought back, producing a large golden shield to protect himself. The strange spell the Mirror hurled was so powerful that it caused the shield to vibrate violently. The photo frames shattered and the windows exploded. Harry put in a lot of energy to keep the shield intact. Just a little longer, he thought.

The Mirror's surprised reaction told him that he hadn't expected such a quick and powerful protection shield. The screaming smoke vanished.

"That wasn't meant to happen, again. Your power can't grow that quickly."

"At this point in time, I don't care," Harry snarled.

"I just want to know why you're absorbing my skills, whereas I'm not absorbing yours."

"Does it look like I have the faintest idea? I just want to go home."

"I know." The Mirror sneered. "You're leeching off my power, because you've got none. You've probably acted like a parasite in your own world, hiding behind more powerful individuals while they die trying to protect you."

"Nah, I think you're a little scared of me." Harry pushed on, trying to formulate ideas on how to get out of this mess. "I wonder what your parents will think when they realise that I'm the better version of you."

"Ridiculous! You'll never speak to them, because I am going to kill you." The Mirror laughed coldly.

"You weren't laughing the last time I saw you. You were screaming."

The Death Eater's laughter died in his throat. "What are you talking about?"

"Voldemort was torturing you," Harry replied, retreating slowly towards the couch.

"How do you know? What do you know?" The Mirror cocked his head, staring curiously at him.

"I saw it while I was dreaming. How's your Master by the way? He looked a bit grey, didn't he?"

He raised an eyebrow. "He is more powerful than he's ever been."

Harry felt an invisible sizzle of power which made his hair stand on end. Sensing imminent danger, he Apparated into the living room, right before his Mirror threw a fiery blue curse at him.

Petunia and the children screamed.

"HARRY, WATCH OUT!" Tony yelled.

He slashed his wand and rolled over the couch as another spell hurtled his way. It hit the couch and blue, fiercely hot flames suddenly erupted. Harry snuffed the fire out before it burnt the house down.

The Mirror kept throwing curses as Harry fought back or dodged spells. More ornaments exploded, and bits of ceiling and wall crumbled over their heads. Then in the dust, he heard his Mirror laugh.

"Come on, Harry. Your fighting style is so dull and predictable. You've never had the proper training, have you?"

"I have."

"You think you're good, but you're not. Your Dumbledore neglected to do a lot."

"He was protecting me—"

"Just admit it: Dumbledore is a bastard, in my world, and in yours."

"That's not true!"

"But enough about your stupid existence, it's time I take the Conditioned."

"WE'RE NOT YOURS!" Tony yelled.

"HELP! HELP, SOMEONE!" Petunia cried.

"SHUT UP!" the Mirror yelled. "You were always meant to be mine!"

"No, no, no," whimpered the girl.

"Get out of my house!" screamed Petunia, "SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP!"

"Aunt Petunia, no one can hear you."

"We want to stay with the good Harry," Tony spat.

As the dust settled, Harry saw the look of shock on the Death Eater's face. "Good?" he snorted. "You have no idea what he'll turn into, Tony."

"I'm not going to leave them with scum like you."

"You better watch out, Harry," the Mirror hissed. "I'm about to make your life miserable."

"Miserable or dead? Make a choice and stick with it."

The Mirror grimaced and flicked his wrists.

A jet of orange fire that was shaped like a running man bolted toward Harry. Eyes wide, he flicked his wand and the flaming man was quickly absorbed into his phoenix and yew wand. Harry lashed back a simple Reducto.

The cabinet behind the Death Eater exploded, raining down shards. The boy yelled in pain, disappearing to the other end of the room. Then, Harry realised his protective shield around them was evaporating.

The Mirror blew a blast of freezing air and it shot at him, turning white, and forming large hail stones.

"Incendio," Harry roared. His magic enveloped the hurtling stones, melting them. Then he yelled, "Stupefy!"

The Death Eater swung his arms out and Harry's spell was suddenly knocked back in his direction. He ducked in time before it blew a hole in the wall.

"Stupefy? Oh, come on, Harry. You really need some good spells. That's shock—"

"Sectumsempra!" Harry said this non-verbally.

The Death Eater yelled in pain; blood spattered the walls. He disappeared, until Harry saw a swirl of black in the corner of his eye.

"WATCH OUT!" the children yelled.

Suddenly he was thrown backwards by a blast that knocked all breath out of him. He slid down the wall, his body in agonising pain. Harry could feel blood pouring down his neck; the back of his head pounding in pain, while several ribs, a shoulder blade and leg was broken.

"NO!" Tony, Ashley and Aunt Petunia screamed.

"Run," Harry told then through clenched teeth. He was restrained now and couldn't move.

The Death Eater crouched down close. He started to dust debris off Harry's shoulders and Accioed the fallen letters into his hand and into his pockets. He placed a note in Harry's pocket and then stood up.

The kids and his Mirror aunt were all bound and gagged, ropes snaking tighter as they struggled in their bonds.

"Don't—"

"You've used that Dark curse before... maybe an unforgivable or two in the past too." The boy smirked. "Not so good after all, are you?"

"Piss off!" Harry spat, alarmed.

"Very well," the Mirror replied grimly, standing up. He cleared the mess, fixed the broken walls and furniture, until the house was pristine again. He picked up the wand. Then for good measure even took Harry's glasses away. "You won't need these."

Suddenly, Aunt Petunia screamed. No, Harry thought, as he watched her crumble onto the floor, still.

"WHY?" Harry roared.

The Mirror smirked. "Because I can... Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday, Harry. Enjoy it, it may be your last," he laughed.

Unable to move, he watched Tony and Ashley levitating towards his Mirror. Their shouts and cries muffled by the ropes. Then the Mirror waved a hand and Harry blacked out.

(******)

The Grandfather clock chimed twice. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. The witch held her wand tightly while Narcissa tried to calm her down. Severus knew upstairs, somewhere, Grindelwald was listening in.

Severus walked around the living room, fingers twitching towards his wand. The situation was proving to be more dangerous than he had anticipated.

"Bella, let it go," Narcissa purred. She looked quite fetching in forest green silk and black lace robes today.

"I will wait until Potter turns up."

He lifted the curtain to look out into misty Spinner's End, hoping to see the boy with the children. He saw nothing but the swirling mist and darkness.

Bella sat on the couch, her head hung low, spilling her long, straight black hair. "His time was up hours ago and now I will kill him."

Curling his lip, Severus moved behind the couch. "Do you really want to anger our master even more?"

"He should've handed them over when he found them."

How could Severus argue with that? "And the boy was punished for it."

"Obviously it wasn't enough to knock some sense into him. Perhaps involving his family might."

He could quite easily curse Bellatrix's whiney head of from where he stood. He'd deal with Narcissa as an afterthought. "Leave the Potters out of it," he warned

Bella snorted. "Your love for the Mudblood bitch is hilarious."

Severus bowed low, close enough for his lips to brush against Bellatrix's hair, his breath on her ear. "What exactly do you have planned for the Potters?"

Bella chuckled. "A plan." She leaned her head back, exposing her throat.

Staring at her pale skin, Severus could've done something dangerous right then and there.

Her grey eyes found his. "You can join me if you wish. You can fuck the Mudblood before I kill her. I'll even let you have the first go before some of the Thirteen."

He almost cracked his wand. He staggered back, placing his trembling hands behind his back as they heard a chime upstairs. The Friend Alarm had been triggered. The boy had forgotten to turn it off on arrival. Potter where are you?

"What was that sound?" Narcissa asked, her eyes roving onto the ceiling.

Severus mustn't reveal his emotions and mustn't do anything stupid. "The house elf's signal to put more firewood in the fire," he lied. Right on cue, more wood appeared in the fire. Dimples was a very perceptive elf.

Show yourself Potter, I know you're upstairs.

Narcissa followed his every move from her dark corner. Whenever her husband Lucius and her son Draco were on a mission, Narcissa would follow her sister like a lost puppy. Severus doubted that it was purely for protection, but more for the thrill. It was a dull and boring place in a large house like Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Potter isn't going to show up as we can see. Let's go. Bella, you need rest. You haven't slept for days."

"If you weren't my favourite sister, I would've killed you by now."

"Just like Andromeda and her Mudblood husband? Severus hissed. "You have no boundaries."

"I have boundaries when it comes to blood and loyalty. It's something which you fail to have an ounce of."

He had had enough of them. "It's time for you to leave."

"You're right. I can't stand this place any longer." Bella stood, smoothing her simple black gown, and covering her head with the hood of her cloak.

Finally, thought Severus, happily opening the front door for them. Narcissa disappeared first into the mist, but Bella hung back long enough to whisper him a warning.

"You've deserted me, Severus," she stated. "The boy should've been killed a long time ago, but you protect him now. You will pay."

"Goodbye Bellatrix."

He slammed the door in her face and rushed up the stairs. Potter's bedroom door was locked so he knocked it down and found the room empty. The bedside table was upside down and the lamp was broken. Severus was stunned as he stared at the fireplace filled with purple flames. He knew... He knew Grindelwald had something to do with this.

(******)

When Harry came to, he heard waves crashing over rocks. A spray of saltwater hit his face, while cold water was soaking through his clothes. The sun was rising as well. But it was the fact that several wizards were staring at him that made him gasp. He heard the Muggle police radio transmitters in the background too.

One of the Hit Wizards smiled. "We've got you, Potter. A Muggle found you while he was jogging on the beach and alerted their emergency services. You failed to kill yourself."

The Auror next to him read the note that had been in Harry's pocket. 'I killed my aunt. I killed my brother. They haunt me. I am not worthy of the Dark Lord.'"

The Hit Wizard laughed cruelly. "Jump a little harder next time."

Aurors and Hit Wizards. What the hell did his Mirror do?

"It's not true!"

"I don't know what sort of society you have going," a copper said, "but the boy needs to go to hospital after his fall. Let the paramedics see him."

"He'll get all the special help where he's going. Don't worry, Ms Policewoman."

Harry tried to move away, but only got knocked out cold when the Auror kicked him in the head.

(******)

Harry woke with a start, gasping for breath as the cold penetrated his very bones. He shook violently, as he realised what had happened.

Now, he sat in a skeletal iron frame of a chair without backing or a seat. His hands and feet were manacled to the armrest and chair legs. His neck was held back by a chain, which jingled when tried to move.

His clothes were still freezing wet, but at least his injuries had been healed.

"Hem, hem…"

Another cauldron of cold water splashed him. Harry yelled out in shock.

"Welcome back home, Mr Potter." It was that sweet sickening voice he knew too well. Even without his glasses, he could still make out who she was.

"You!" he spat at Dolores Umbridge.

Mirror Umbridge still wore that stupid pink bow on her hair. Her fuchsia high heels failed to give her height as they clicked on the stone floor.

"Azkaban missed you," Umbridge simpered. "You've been unconscious for a few hours."

He looked past her, surveying his new surroundings. His breaths came out heavy, and white fog came out of his mouth in puffs. It was desperately cold. He wondered whether some Dementors had stayed behind.

Though the walls were a cruel stone grey, Umbridge had decorated it with her floral plates covered with kittens.

Besides Umbridge and himself, Harry saw several Aurors. Blurry as they were, they still stood menacing. One of them made him jump, because he recognised the dark Auror as Kingsley Shacklebolt, bald, with a glint of a gold earring in one ear. Harry eyed him, silently imploring him for help. But who was he kidding? Shacklebolt wasn't his friend in this world.

Umbridge began circling him. "We have some questions, which I hope you would kindly answer." She twirled her stubby wand.

"I-i-if I don't?"

Umbridge smiled. It was that same sadistic smile she showed when she had made him write lines with his blood. "Don't play games, Mr Potter, you know very well what will happen if you don't."

His muscles tensed, panic gripping him. "W-why not use Veritiserum and g-get all the information you want?"

She stopped in front of him, her wand touching his cheek. He thrashed back against her touch. But there was nowhere he could hide.

"The true Death Eaters have protection against the potion."

"That is partly a myth—"

"Thank you for your input, Auror Shacklebolt," Umbridge tittered.

"Ms Undersecretary…"

Umbridge thought for a moment. "Yes, Auror Shacklebolt?"

"At present, we have all the information we want about the boy. Besides, you know he doesn't reveal much."

"What exactly do we know? I want to know how they escaped."

Kingsley stepped forward. "Potter had no magical power in his cell due to protective charms. You know, he had no part in it."

"I do not believe that in the slightest."

"Thete is no evidence of Mage magic being used."

"Hmph," Umbridge muttered angrily.

"While outside, he had desire to finish off his relatives, but failed, and then being sick of it all, wanted to end his life."

Harry's heart fluttered. "Petunia's not dead?"

"She's in a bizarre, enchanted sleep. Whatever you cursed her with, it didn't work."

"There was evidence of other people within the house," Umbridge stated brusquely. "He wasn't acting alone."

"I work alone," Harry spat.

Umbridge smiled. "Now how did you escape?"

"Ms Undersecretary—"

"Shhhhh, I want to hear it from the boy."

"I—" Harry didn't know how he was going to get out of this one. "Please listen to me! I'm not the Harry Potter you're looking for—"

It was then Harry understood why the chair had no backing. A curse hit his back, stiffening his muscles with cramps.

"Not the Harry Potter we're looking for?" she mocked. "He has gone mad! No wonder he tried to commit suicide."

"—Ms Undersecretary, we can only guess what truly happened that night the prisoners escaped. There was an invisible explosion killing two Atoners and destroying many cells. Then the Death Eaters showed up. Neither prisoners or Voldemort planned—"

"Shacklebolt, you are really being disruptive. Potter, answer my questions and I will spare you the death penalty for this fiasco."

"You cannot order his execution. He is too valuable for our intelligence. Scrim-"

Umbridge huffed. "Was it You-Know-Who who let you out?"

"I—"

"I believe Voldemort wouldn't do this," Shacklebolt bravely answered for Harry. "He wouldn't just attack one section of the prison. He wants the entire prison taken."

Umbridge sighed, blushing pink in fury. "Just hand him over to the Atoners then."

The chair that he had been chained to vanished with a crack. Harry fell to the floor, then was roughly pulled up and dragged out of the room. Umbridge strode along in front, leading the way.

The corridor was dark and bone chillingly cold. It was lined with hundreds of cells, the rusted iron bars caging their prisoners. All the cells were filled with more than one prisoner. Some lay in their dark corners on sagging cots. Others watched Harry and some had extended their arms through the bars and began pleading their innocence. Umbridge ignored them.

Finally, at the end of the passage, there was another thick iron door. Harry looked up and saw a sign which read, The Black Square. Umbridge flicked her wand, and the locks came undone. There were heavy enchantments outside the door. Harry could feel it prickling on his skin.

Inside, the room was huge, though just as grey and dark. Lights blazed in their sconces, but the heat didn't make him feel any better, or give the place any warmth. The entire square smelt of decay, rot and human waste.

Nothing but a small wooden desk and chair stood in the middle of the room. The floor before the desk was covered in old blood. On the floor was several iron loops drilled within the stone, only metres apart. And chains hung from the ceiling like grisly decorations. Then Harry saw a small trapdoor on the floor made of iron bars.

Each side of the square contained thirteen cells, all bolted shut with a heavy door. There was a small window in each of them, and a small flap so food could be pushed through. Almost every one of them had a pair of eyes peeking through its window.

Umbridge sat down behind the little wooden desk. She held a lace handkerchief to her nose as she sprayed the air with floral perfume. She then smoothed out some parchment and dipped her quill before writing something down. After an intense silent minute, she waved her hand at the Aurors as a signal.

Harry was pushed down to his knees; the short chain that linked his wrists was yanked toward the iron loop and charmed through. He knelt in front of Umbridge, unable to fight, nor protect himself. He raised his chin, determined not to betray his emotions as he looked Umbridge in the eye. He could see her simpering smile clearly now and he wanted to kill her.

Umbridge jabbed her wand into the air, and Harry saw a bright blue light around the room. There was a barrier surrounding the walls, and it slowly fell, like a silk curtain.

"Can you all hear me now?" she shrilled loudly, staring at all the closed cell doors.

"Let us go," one prisoner shouted. "I'm innocent—"

"SHUT UP BRENNAN! We all know you killed that Auror," another prisoner shouted from across the square.

"Please, I was only stating the truth about the Minister," an elderly prisoner whimpered.

"I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you say," one cried.

The protests grew louder and Umbridge grew agitated.

"QUIET!" she screamed. "OR YOU WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!"

At once there was silence.

"You are all in The Black Square because you are the most dangerous enemies of the Ministry. Your pleas are useless. Your crimes and your teachings are pure evil. Our society must be protected against you."

Harry heard cries from one of the cells echoing around The Black Square.

"Ahem." Umbridge readjusted her pink bow. "Harry Potter, as leader of the escape, you are hereby charged with prison escape, destruction of Ministry property, the deaths of two Atoners and the maiming of a Muggle with the intent of murder. Fortunately for you, you will not be executed by the Atoners. Your punishment will be sixty lashes and the trapdoor until I see fit to release you. Repent for your crimes, Mr Potter, you have all the time in the world. Let this serve as a reminder to all of you of the consequences."

Besides fear, Harry felt pure hate for his Mirror and Umbridge. If this didn't kill him, he was going to make his Mirror pay.

The Aurors backed against either side of the cells, and a passageway suddenly opened up behind the desk and a new group of witches and wizards appeared. From what he had heard, these were the Atoners. One by one they circled Harry and Umbridge, wearing navy robes with a red enamelled 'A' pinned to their chest. They gleamed like blood in the firelight.

Instinctively, Harry tested the chain, trying to break free. He wished the bloody flagstone would give way and release the hook. But nothing happened, not even a crack appeared.

"Atoners, welcome, welcome," Umbridge spoke, "Our escapee has returned. Willis where are you?"

"Aye, Ms Umbridge," a loud voice pronounced.

A tall Atoner with a blond, bushy beard stepped forward. His hands hooked onto his wide leather belt, to which various daggers and instruments were attached rather proudly. Harry thought he might have been the leader. His dark eyes were cold, and his grin shone with gold teeth.

She smiled. "You may take over."

"Aye." Willis puffed his chest up. "Brodes, it's your turn."

A portly bald man with a booming voice stepped out of the circle. He curtly nodded at Umbridge. He had a brown goatee knotted with a red band. There was a ghastly large scar that ran from his left eye to his chin. Brodes took out his wand and with a swish, a red lash cracked onto the floor, like a whip. It cast The Black Square with an eerie red glow. It was as though the depths of hell had opened up and Harry was right in its mouth.

"We've missed you, Potter." Brodes strolled forward, licking his lips.

The Atoner yanked Harry's head back by fistful of hair and he saw that the Atoner's eyes were excited, his pupils dilated and glassy. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, smelling the Atoner's putrid breath.

"Did you miss our little midnight calls to your cell?"

Harry's heart froze.

12. Order at Work

Order at Work

"My Lord, you wanted to see me?" Severus knelt.

The Dark Lord sat on the high backed chair that had been reserved for headmaster or headmistress of Hogwarts in The Great Hall. He tapped his long white fingers on a wooden goblet before he nodded for Severus to rise.

Hogwarts had changed. Gone were the candles that floated above them, and the stars that magically showed through the ceiling. Gone were the four tables, the warmth and anticipation of the students for the year ahead. The joyful laughter from students was now replaced by the terrified screams of tortured prisoners. Hogwarts as a great learning place was dead. It was dark, full of evil and despair.

The Dark Lord stood up, sniffing the air around him. The tall Death Eaters who had lined the wall behind his throne wearing deep green masks, were his private guard. The special guard of seven were the carefully chosen children of pureblooded Death Eaters, who had been given to the Dark Lord as youngsters to be trained for this special service.

"Come... walk with me," the Dark Lord said, goblet in hand.

Severus turned away from those hypnotic green masks, wondering what fate awaited him. "Yes, my Lord."

They walked for a while in silence, passing more sullen prisoners and whispering Death Eaters, before finally Severus's master spoke.

"Once the war is over I will open up the school. This has always been my home."

"Of course, my Lord, and with your blessing, I would like to continue teaching."

"It will be a pleasure watching you developing young minds in the Dark Arts, and cementing our pureblood ideals in their hearts and minds."

Severus bowed. However, he had a niggling concern that his master didn't summon him to discuss the Hogwarts curriculum.

They moved out of the hall and into an unused classroom. The room reeked of mould, and spider webs glowed in the misty moonlight streaming through broken windows. The Hogwarts house elves would've kept the castle clean, but since most of the elves had been slaughtered, the weakened prisoners were left to do the cleaning.

"For months now I have been monitoring Grindelwald's advances on my territory."

"However, Grindelwald is weak against your power."

"Yet, he has been plucking my followers to swell his own. The wizard has always been a thief. I have punished those consorting with him, hunted those who have betrayed me, but he rebounds." The Dark Lord slowly swept dust off a desk with a finger. "Get the prisoners to clean here," he snapped at one of the green masked guards.

"Death Eaters who oppose him are killed," Severus stated.

"Hmmm, yes." He took a drink from the goblet, never taking his unblinking gaze off Severus.

Severus noted that Potter also had a similar look on his face when he was calculating his next move. He took a deep breath, willing the barrier shielding his mind to strengthen.

"Have you been speaking with this impostor?"

Ah, yes, here we go. "No—"

"Bellatrix has evidence that you had."

Brilliant, Bella, brilliant. "May I see this evidence?"

The Dark Lord pulled a calling card from his dark robes and threw it at Severus's feet. He picked it up, staring at it. It was gold, and in the middle there was a swirling ornate black 'G.' G for Grindelwald.

"As you know, Gellert leaves these cards wherever he visits. Bellatrix found this in your living room."

Severus raised his eyebrows. Grindelwald knew not to leave them in his house. Although, since last night…

"Bella's upset about Potter stealing her Conditioned. She's also angry that I'm protecting him. I fear this is petty revenge on her part."

"I fear it too. However, your past is against you, Severus. A leopard does not change its spots. I have never forgotten that you love the Muggleborn, Lily Potter, and want her protected."

"I have no love for her that way, anymore." It was partly true.

Severus had grown to respect Lily. He didn't want her for himself to her detriment and that of her family's anymore. He still loved her dearly, but he has moved beyond that destructive passion for her.

"But…" The Dark Lord moved into the light of a solitary candle. "You would still die to protect her, would you not?"

"Yes." It was no use denying it. Practically everyone knew this since Bellatrix made it her mission to ridicule him.

"Would you protect her children?"

"I don't want any child dead…"

The Dark Lord smirked. "You protect Harry like he is your own son—though the look of disgust I see on your face tells me otherwise."

"The boy is your loyal servant. Of course I must protect him. My Lord, I feel as though you want to tell me something—?"

The Dark Lord chuckled, and he would've revealed all, if it wasn't for the Death Eater bursting into the room.

"Master!" a cloaked and masked Death Eater gasped. He bowed at the Dark Lord's feet and began whispering.

"Potter's been caught and is once again in Azkaban," the Dark Lord spoke for Severus to hear. "Apparently he tried to kill himself and was found by Muggles."

Severus furrowed his brow, now deeply worried about the children. Dumbledore reported that after Grindelwald had taken Potter from Spinner's End, they fought and struggled in Cork before Potter escaped. But why would he want to die? Because it is the only way he'd truly be free.

"And the children?"

"No word."

Severus hoped the boy had the heart to release them.

The Dark Lord was furious. He flung the goblet at the Death Eater, knocking him to the ground, and soaking his robes in a liquid that looked like molten silver.

Unicorn blood! Severus was mystified. How long has he been drinking blood so pure and innocent from a unicorn? He would need to inform Dumbledore about this straight away.

"Look for the children," he hissed. "Now, get out of my sight."

The Death Eater ran for his life.

"Fool!" the Dark lord spat. "How dare he—! His life belongs to me!"

This was a devastating blow. Bravely, Severus asked, feigning ignorance. "Perhaps you can break him out of Azkaban, had it been you that helped the first time?"

"Grindelwald did it."

He watched his master pace the room in anger.

"The boy is too much of an asset to fall into Grindelwald's hands."

"I will prove my loyalty by helping him escape," he said. Not that he really wanted to. He liked Potter far away from him.

"I want him kept there. It is better for his power to be suppressed. When I take over Azkaban he will be freed and under my control."

Does he fear the boy?

"Severus," the Dark Lord twitched his long white fingers. "You will prove your loyalty by bringing me Jessica Potter."

"My Lord?" How many surprising developments could he handle in less than five minutes?

"Keep the mother, kill the rest, I do not care for them, but bring me the Potter girl."

The words rung in Severus's ears and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. "It is as you wish, my Lord. It… It will be an honour." He bowed stiffly. "May I ask why you want the girl—is she to be conditioned?"

The Dark Lord's eyes were as red as fresh blood, and Severus could not help but think there was an amusing secret his master had failed to tell him. "The boy has failed me, perhaps his sister won't."

(******)

Christopher and Michael had been eaves-dropping. They had been ordered up to their bedroom, but it didn't stop them wanting to know what was happening in the emergency Order meeting. Their mother was angry, hysterical, all because nobody wanted to help her sister.

"Mum's really fired up tonight."

"Shh, shut it, Chris."

Michael heard Remus interjecting, and then a slur of eloquent curse words flew out of his mother's mouth.

"Why is she so angry?" Jessica yelped, rocking back and forth. "She's scaring me. Is Mummy OK?"

"She's fine, Newt," Christopher replied, trying to listen in.

Michael glanced at his sister swaying back and forth. "Do you remember us telling you that our aunt is in hospital because Harry attacked her two days ago?"

Jessica shook her head.

"She's in bad shape and they don't know if she'll ever wake up," Michael answered slowly, making sure she understood.

Her lip trembled. Tears sparkled in her foggy eyes. "My poor aunty…"

While Petunia was their aunt, they had only seen her once. "She isn't a nice woman—"

"Why would Harry do that?" she sniffled.

"Because he's evil, that's why."

"And now he's back in Azkaban," she said slowly. "If only he'd given it… none of this would have happened."

Michael and Christopher exchanged a mutual expression of worry.

"What are you talking about? What would Harry give and to whom?" Michael asked, wrapping his arms around his little sister, pulling her close.

Jessica wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her dress and rested her head on her brother's chest. "I wish… I wish everyone was happy. I want Charlie alive, everyone good again, and the black that smells of death gone forever."

Confused, Michael let her doze off.

(******)

"Petunia's all alone in St Mungos!" Lily was so angry that she couldn't keep still, pacing up and down the house. Finally unable to take any more of the fighting and the waiting, she stomped to the front door. "I want to see my sister, James. I want her out of there. Why won't you all just listen to me?"

"You're out of your mind," James yelled, grabbing her arm, fingers like a vice around her wrist.

"Get your hand off me!"

"No!"

"If she wakes up, she'll be scared and lost."

Her hand gripped the door knob, but James gripped her arm even tighter. The fear in his eyes twinged her gut with guilt.

"You set foot into town—into St Mungo's—Voldemort will know."

"Lily," Dumbledore spoke from a dark corner in the hall. He held onto the leather tome Portkey in his arms, his long fingers caressing the cover gently. "We will get her out of there as soon as it is safe. I'll speak to our members at the hospital for a suitable time."

"You told me this yesterday and the day before."

"Lily, please," Remus said with his hands outstretched. The look in his eyes showed profound sadness and terror at her impending actions.

"Damn you, Remus!" She let go of the doorknob.

James's grip slackened. Lily yanked her arm away from him, storming into the kitchen, everyone following at her heels. There she unlocked the highest cabinet in the kitchen with a flick of her wand so roughly that the lock shot across the room, bounced off the wall, leaving behind a dent. Little Dedalus Diggle had to duck to miss it hitting his head. She charmed down a bottle of Firewhiskey and downed a glass straightaway.

"You still think Harry is our perfect, innocent little boy, Lils—"

"SHUT UP, JAMES!" she screamed, hurling the glass at his head. He swung in time as it shattered behind him. "He is tormented and unwell. He tried to kill himself!"

She feared for his wellbeing, but did this mean that he was finally feeling remorse?

"QUIET!" Dumbledore yelled.

Lily reluctantly obeyed.

Dumbledore laid the book out in front of him. Then he put his hands together, resting them beneath his long nose. There was an air of weariness and sadness that emanated from him. She saw the book and wondered why he had brought it out of their secure cabinet, but her mind was still focused on her sister for her to ask what the headmaster wanted of it.

Lily leaned back against the kitchen bench, surveying the quiet Order members across the room. Dedalus mopped up the sweat from his brow. Emmeline Vance played with a lock of her jet black hair. Bill, Fred, George and Ron Weasley were whispering to each other near the pantry.

"We are all at risk every minute of the day." Lily calmed herself. "I refuse to sit back and hide while our world collapses around us. She needs people she knows surrounding her—"

James snorted. "You mean freaks she hates."

"She is my sister!" Lily hissed.

"We will get Petunia out. But you need to understand Death Eaters are expecting you to see her," Remus said. "Deaths and disappearances occur within the safety of the hospital walls frequently, perpetuated by both Death Eaters and the Ministry."

"Tonight we will choose a plan we've been brainstorming on," Dumbledore said.

"But half most of the Order isn't here to vote on it," James added.

"We have enough sound minds to make a decision."

Lily then noticed who was missing from the meeting. For one, Sirius, Charlie Weasley and Hagrid were tracking down Death Eaters who were killing unicorns. For a few years, unicorns would be killed once a year after the spring, and their blood drained. Unicorn blood fetched the most ridiculous prices in the black market since the war began. They suspected that Voldemort would use the funds to feed, house and reward his followers.

Arthur was at the Ministry trying to gather information on infiltrated Death Eaters spying in the departments. Meanwhile, Arthur's son Percy, working for Umbridge, was spying on her and the Minister. They knew that Umbridge was manipulating the Minister for her own needs, passing insane laws to their world's detriment, including throwing obstacles at the Order.

"As you all know, the Order has been viewed with doubt and promoted as an evil vigilante group by the Ministry for a decade. However, Scrimgeour tolerated our group as long as I have provided information about Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "That all changed when Hogwarts closed, and I cut all links with the Ministry. As a consequence, it has become a serious crime for anyone to associate with us or be a member, thanks to Dolores. Therefore, we must tread carefully and plan this rescue thoroughly, and speak to the right people."

"But Percy says many in the Ministry still respect you, sir, and secretly placed loopholes in the laws to protect our work," Ron pointed out.

"Still, I don't fancy a stint in The Black Square, if I can help it," Fred added.

Finally sitting down at the table, Lily looked around once more: Professor McGonagall, Professors Flitwick and Sprout and others were trying to track down the movements of Grindelwald. Some of the Auror members were protecting Muggle towns or homes which Death Eaters would likely attack soon, while others protected vulnerable Muggleborns and their families from slaughter and abduction. Lastly, Kingsley Shacklebolt would be overseeing the imprisonment of her son.

With all these missions, she was surprised no one has died yet.

She ignored the buzzing conversations, their voices getting louder and more animated as they pointed to a map, agreeing and disagreeing about their chosen plan. Her gaze landed on that book Dumbledore held onto again.

"…We'll use the Impenetrable Mist the Weasley twins have invented," Dumbledore said.

"Our finest moment," George said, winking at his twin.

James shook his head, pointing to the map. "That's all good, but I still have to disagree with the route we've chosen. That St Mungo's secret passage is just too dangerous. Let's use the one that goes beneath this Muggle St—"

"Why do you have that book, Albus?" Lily spoke over James.

The Weasley boys perked up once more. They didn't expect she'd be questioning him, on something other than rescuing Petunia.

Dumbledore opened his eyes. He had clearly been focused on other things as well.

"I want to read…" Dumbledore adjusted his half moon spectacles over his nose, held the book up and read, "Oe Fo Irbil."

"Funny you say that, because none of us have been able to open it since Harry arrived here. Why?"

"I think, perhaps, Harry has put something within the book for safekeeping," he answered, resting the book on his lap.

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure, but I will let you know once I have, and I'm sure this book would be a curious read over a nice cup of tea and gingersnaps."

"Gone off the mint humbugs, have you, sir?" Fred asked with a cheeky grin.

Dumbledore's lips quivered in amusement as he broke eye contact with Lily. "Thanks to your sweets, boys, it was a nightmare trying to find robes that suited my lovely green complexion."

Lily suddenly had the urge to sneeze and instantly thought about her son being evil and insane. She was confused for a moment before Petunia's dire predicament swam into her mind again.

There was a tapping on the kitchen window, and they saw an owl. James let it through and it landed gently on the table in front of them all and the owl stuck out its leg at Dumbledore.

"Ahh, Octavia Miles will be in charge of St Mungo's tonight. Perfect!"

(******)

It was in the wee hours of the morning they had decided to invade St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Everyone would be asleep, and the staff at its minimal. Lily, James, Emmeline, Bill and Dumbledore opened the front door, stepping out into the night. They had each Polyjuiced themselves into lesser known Healers working within the hospital and wore their lime green uniforms.

Lily turned around in time to see Remus walk into the hallway. "Look after my children. If—"

"I'll see you before dawn," he replied confidently. The Weasley boys joined him by his side, yawning away their sleep.

"I still think you should stay, Lily," James said. He was Polyjuiced into a blond-haired Healer.

She glared daggers at him. "I think you should shut up."

"The Portkey will be activated in a minute. We need to hurry up," Emmeline urged.

Emmeline, now a pale freckly, brown-haired healer picked up the battered can of baked beans left next to a Muggle gnome in Lily's front yard, and held it up to the street lamp. It began to glow blue. "Quickly now."

They touched the can with a finger. Their shoulders all touched in the tiny space. James embraced her with his free arm. Lily couldn't help but notice that the warmth he shared. It felt nice.

She watched as the intense blue light of the Portkey reflected off his blue eyes and blond hair. The Healer James had Polyjuiced into was handsome. But Lily thought her husband, dark-haired, tall and lithe was even more so. She blushed.

James noticed and grinned. "I'm so good-looking I send the ladies into hysterical fits of passion."

"You are so full of sh—"

Suddenly, a hook around their middles pulled them forward together. Lily took in a deep breath. They whirled through the darkness, all tightly bound.

But as fast as it had begun, they landed softly and whole on a dark Muggle street. Without time to adjust their robes, and their messy hair, the group broke into two.

James and Lily hid behind a dumpster. Bald-headed Bill and Emmeline were with a much younger and rounder looking Dumbledore, sporting a braided grey beard and hair. They rushed into a dark alley.

Now they waited. A balmy breeze picked up around them, swirling bits of plastic and leaves around their feet. The smell coming from the dumpster was putrid. Somewhere in an alleyway, cats were fighting.

Then, by the gutter, there was a whistle, like a sparrow. Dumbledore waved his wand, charming a white glowing bird to fly out. It was a beautiful Patronus of a phoenix. It flew past the gutter, before dissipating.

The gutter opened up, as though the earth was being swallowed within. A Healer stepped out. Her eyes were puffy from lack of sleep. Her face was sweaty and dirty. Her curly grey-brown hair tied up in a ponytail.

"What are you waiting for, get in," Healer Octavia Miles whispered. She herded them into the gutter.

Dumbledore stayed behind. "Send me a message when you're ready."

"Yes, yes. Just get in now." Octavia looked about, before following them in and closing up the hole behind them.

The passageway was damp and dark. James ignited his wand and Bill examined the passageway.

"It's much roomier than I thought," Emmeline said.

"I've been keeping a watch on Petunia Dursley," Octavia started. "Two Aurors—both Ministry owned—are stationed outside the door and another sits in the room with her all day." She turned around, making them all stop in their tracks. "Just hours ago, they arrested a Death Eater impersonating the tea trolley aid."

Lily gasped.

"Don't worry; they got them before they entered the room."

"How is she?" James asked.

"She's in a deep sleep. Her eyes are always open, so we've taped them shut."

"It wasn't a Dementor Kiss, was it?" Emmeline spoke words Lily didn't dare ask.

"It isn't, it's something else. We think it could be a failed Killing Curse… we're not sure yet as it was Mage magic that was used." Octavia squeezed Lily's hand. "She'll be all right, love."

When they reached St Mungo's, they entered through a cupboard. They were in a potions storage facility. Shelves upon shelves of different coloured potions lined them. The room was huge and temperature controlled. They walked through another room filled with boiling cauldrons. It was very hot in there and they saw a tiny monocled witch checking the potions, oblivious to the impostors walking past her.

They were led them up a staircase and several more until they reached the main foyer. The walls were a shade of green and lined by portraits of famous powerful witches who were fast asleep in their frames, though many portraits had been taken down, making the walls look bare in some places. The portraits removed were ones the Ministry knew had ties with Dumbledore.

James nudged Lily forward. They moved ahead alert. The lights in the foyer were dimmed around and not a soul stirred.

Octavia took them to the floor Petunia was and straight into an empty room. Lily looked at the crisp linen sheets covering the bed. In a few moments she will face her sister.

The Healer turned to them. "I will enter first, check her over and find that there is something wrong. I will let the Auror know that I'm going to bring you lot in."

"And I'll transform a pillow into Petunia's likeness. And we'll take her onto an awaiting broomstick," James added

It was all going to plan, Lily thought, but that was until the Auror inside the single bedded room refused to leave.

"Auror Emery, we need to conduct an examination without you hindering us!" Octavia pounced.

"I have my orders, Healer," the Auror growled.

Lily moved behind him. Petrificus Totalis, she thought.

The poor Auror straightened out stiffly. Before he fell onto the floor with a thump, James caught him and placed him standing up in a nearby closet.

Lily rushed to her sister's bedside as Emmeline placed a silencing charm on the door.

She took in a deep breath, seeing her sister. The linen sheets were pulled up beneath her chin. Her blonde hair was in disarray, while her dark eyes glassy and open. Lily waved her hand in front of her face. There was no response.

"Oh... Tuney…" she whispered sadly. She charmed her sister into the air as Emmeline sent Dumbledore a Patronus of a dormouse skittering out of the window.

Lily's heart pounded as she moved her sister towards the window. It was then the door opened. James swore and Bill moved past them, positioning himself by James's side. They turned quickly to see what was happening.

Octavia Miles stood with her wand pointed in their faces. The two Aurors stood by her sides. One was tall, his eyes small and watery. The other was well built, but was missing an eye. He looked stronger than ten trolls put together. Octavia's wand hand shook slightly and tears covered her cheeks.

"What's going on?" Lily asked calmly. Her heart sank to the floor.

Emmeline quickly straddled the broomstick, her mouth wide open in shock.

"Lily, get Petunia out." James walked forward in his bid to protect the witches as they struggled to place Petunia onto the broomstick. "Death Eaters!"

"I'm so sorry," Octavia whispered. "This is my chance to get my daughter back. They promised me."

"No, no, you can't!" Lily said with urgency, letting Emmeline go, who was gripping on both broom and Lily's sister for dear life. Petunia Dursley slumped over like a heavy sack. "Octavia, you can't do this!"

"Lily, don't make it worse," Octavia shook her head. "Please forgive me. I want my Emily back. They just want you and James. The Muggle can go."

Emmeline zoomed off.

"CONFODERE!" James roared. The enemies ducked, missing his spell as daggers were hurled at them.

As Lily and the others hid behind an empty bed, the tall Death Eater pulled back towards the door and slashed his wand at his partner. The well built Death Eater, who was ready to throw a curse at them all, fell, screaming in pain. He shuddered and died.

Octavia whirled around in confusion. Her wand cluttered to the floor.

Was this Death Eater friend or foe?

"Get out. Get out now. I will deal with this mess," the Death Eater yelled at them all.

"Who are you?" Lily asked. She stood still, watching the Death Eater push a crying Octavia to the window and onto a broomstick.

His arm touched Lily's. He looked at her.

"Lily, MOVE!" James yelled, yanking her arm, urging her out of the window.

Lily stood frozen. The way he looked at her was like someone she knew. "Severus?"

The Death Eater gazed out the window, grabbing a broomstick for her. "You need to go, now!"

(******)

Harry woke to the trickle of hot liquid stinging the wounds on his back. He soon realised that an Atoner was relieving himself on him, as he knelt down in the cramped, tiny cell which he had been imprisoned in.

He wanted to see that ugly face tormenting him, but he had no room to move. He heard the man zip his fly shut and laughed his way around The Black Square as he patrolled it again. Every so often, the sharp wack of his wand on the iron cell doors would reverberate across the room. Judging by the Atoner's chortle, Harry thought it was Willis.

By now he knew who the commanding Atoners were. There was Simon Willis who was Captain of the enforcement group. He gave out the commands and favoured his torture instruments more so than his wand.

Second, was Gregory Brodes who always gave a Harry a hungry look that sent chills through him. Brodes was skilled with curses, but Harry was more worried about what the Atoner would do once he was tucked away in the darkness of his cell.

There were others: Tom Lurchman, an Atoner who would pull him out of the 'trapdoor' cell every night and the one to drop him in it again. Agnes Cotter, was a tricky one. One moment she'd hand him a glass of water, then she'd slap it out of his hands demanding answers. There was Caster and Meryn in the background who would question him, and a few others who Harry did not know their names yet, but always they watched, and always they patrolled The Black Square, keeping the prisoners in check.

Harry clenched his jaw as he shifted in his little space. He was in pain all over and suspected he had a few broken bones. He trembled from cold and exhaustion. He couldn't even feel his knees anymore. He huddled himself against the eerie whistling breeze that entered The Black Square during storms that bashed against Azkaban.

The pain had begun to take its toll on him. For the first few nights Harry had refused to give in. His determination was stronger when Umbridge had watched. Their questions were drowned by the white pain that coursed through him.

Soon after, the pain had began to eat away at him like a caterpillar nibbling at a leaf, so that he didn't realise he was yelling. He didn't realise there were tears flooding his eyes. Harry didn't realise he was giving them the lies they wished to hear until it was too late.

He rested his head against the wall of his little cell feeling very sorry for himself.

Six nights he had endured this treatment. He wondered how on earth his Mirror had endured imprisonment in The Black Square for so long.

Harry heard footsteps, but those clanking boots did not belong to Willis. His heart pounded, almost trying to escape his chest. Was it night seven already?

"Think you're some hotshot Auror, do you?" Willis asked.

Harry held his breath, ignoring a wave of nausea and dread.

"Get out of my way!" Shacklebolt threatened. "We have an order to release Potter."

"Do you now? Let's see this order."

There was a ruffle of papers and then Willis grunted after reading a few words. "Why would Ms Umbridge sign this?"

"She didn't. Read it. Head Azkaban Auror Pickens got permission off the Minister. Have you seen the boy, Willis? He won't survive another night."

"We know he's lying about the escape."

"You won't get any of the truth if he's dead," Kingsley roared.

"I'm the commander of this fucking Square! Auror Pickens cannot bypass me and Umbridge."

Kingsley huffed. "You are welcome to march straight to the Ministry and cry on her shoulder. Better yet, she enjoys your tongue whilst you kneel under her desk."

"Why you—!"

"Enough of this. Open the trapdoor, now." Harry recognised Tonks's voice.

"Lurch, get the boy out," Willis spat.

Lurchman pulled the iron barred latch open above Harry's head. Next, hands yanked his hair. He muffled his yell, his entire body protesting the movement.

"Move. MOVE!" Lurchman shouted. He let go of Harry's hair, and moved his hands beneath his armpits, pulling him out.

Harry fell onto the cobbled floor. His entire body was in agony. He curled into a ball, opening his eyes, slowly looking up at the booming black figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt. The purple haired Tonks was staring at him with disdain. Shacklebolt gazed quickly over his body and paled.

"Pl—" Harry licked his parched lips. "Please help me."

"I don't help criminals." Shacklebolt grimaced, before kicking Harry in the ribs.

Unable to breathe in the surge of pain, Harry heard Willis speak.

"Get him out of my sight!"

It was all a blur. He saw the faces above him. The flickering candles above covering the figures with a golden glow. Lurchman dragged him and the Aurors and Atoners followed.

"We've kept your old cell, Potter," Lurchman grunted, as he pulled him. "It was a bit damaged by your escape, but we've fixed it up good."

The course stone beneath him grazed him and the candles flickered past, overhead. He was moved into a dark cell and Lurchman let go, cleaned his hands on his blue robe and moved aside. Both Aurors and Willis stood around him.

Harry was so tired that he actually didn't care what was going to happen next.

"Have Cotter treat his wounds," Shacklebolt said.

Then they all retreated, shutting the door, leaving Harry in darkness. His senses were swirling and the pain and cold unbearable. He had nothing else to do but let out a cry of despair, fear, and relief. He fell asleep on the cold, hard floor.

(******)

"NOOOOOO!" Harry yelled, waking from a cold dream filled with curses and whips, and Pettigrew's children screaming for help.

He bolted upright, hands clambering the damp rocky wall behind him.

"Potter."

Harry realised he was not alone in the cell. His eyes adjusted to the dim light which the one floating candle emitted. Agnes Cotter was holding a wet sponge in her hand.

In shock, he hurled himself on top of her, knocking them both to the floor. He wanted to strangle her, to escape.

"Stupid boy!" Kingsley Shacklebolt yelled, punching Harry in the face. He let go in shock.

Cotter gasped and pushed him away from her. "Get him back to bed, please," she wheezed, massaging her neck.

Kingsley pulled Harry back into his pathetic cot.

"What are you doing to me?" he rasped, looking down at his mangled body.

"I'm cleaning you up," Cotter replied. "If you stay still and don't attack me, I'll be finished soon."

"Leave me alone," Harry whispered. Goosebumps prickled over him like a tsunami and he started to shiver again. Cotter helped Harry onto his side. His back was on fire from all the lacerations. She slid a blanket over his shoulders after she finished dressing his wounds.

"You've got a fever."

Harry grunted as she moved away and Kingsley came closer, crouching beside him.

"Atoner, could you give us some privacy and some... silence?"

She obeyed, placing a Silencing Charm around the cell before leaving.

"Can't y-you do magic in here?"

"This cell is protected against Mage magic, and since your escape, security has been tightened severely. Only those authorised by Umbridge and Willis are allowed to use magic in The Black Square and its proximity. Let's just say she doesn't like me. And I'm toeing the line now after I complained about your treatment to Auror Pickens."

"I've gathered..."

Kingsley clasped his hands. "You took the Pettigrew children, and sought refuge at the Dursleys didn't you?"

"That's not true. I was alone."

"Don't lie, Harry. You hid the children there after you used the Imperious Curse on your aunt."

"I never—"

Kingsley put a hand on his shoulder. Harry recoiled, expecting pain, but the Auror was surprisingly gentle after he had kicked and punched him.

"There was a remnant of the curse on her."

His Mirror really planned this deception quite well. "Was there any imprint of magic left behind on the house and me? I had a fight—"

"You fought Petunia? Did she fight the curse? Did she try protecting the children from you?"

"No—but—"

"There were no other remnants of magic, Harry, other than you trying to kill her.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. His Mirror was so powerful he could erase traces of his magic.

Kingsley sighed. "Harry, do something decent for a change, and tell us where they are. I know you are feeling guilt and regret. You wanted to end it all because of it."

"I didn't—I didn't jump."

"You did. Your injuries are consistent with a fall like that."

Oh my God, Harry thought.

"We know you had the Pettigrew children, because our source told us. They had escaped Malfoy Manor and you picked them up in a cave."

"I don't know where they are."

"Harry, these are children you are hiding, not objects." The Auror frowned. "You know the Order will protect them."

"I don't know where they are now. He took Pettigrew's children and he tried to kill Aunt Petunia."

Kingsley straightened up. "Voldemort?"

"Mirror Harry did. He attacked us—"

"Not again with that story." Kingsley said it with pity as he gazed at Harry's curse scar.

It would be no use getting people to believe him. He was too tired to even try. "I want to speak to Dumbledore."

"I'll let him know." Kingsley gave Harry a puzzled look, before he quietly left the cell. Agnes Cotter shut the iron door and sat back down.

She rinsed out a rag and placed it over his forehead. He closed his eyes as he didn't want to see one of his torturers anymore. But sleep came hard because the Atoner kept waking him.

"My punishment is over, let me sleep."

"I need to observe your vital signs. I am a trained Healer as you know. It's not fun waking people every few hours, but it must be done."

"Then how the hell did you end up as an Atoner?"

Cotter stopped mopping up his brow and shoulders with icy cold water, and just stared at him. "You know, after all this time you've never asked me. I stole potions from St Mungo's... Sleep now. You need rest."

13. Cell Number 13

Cell Number 13

"GET UP NOW!" an Atoner shouted. His wand rapped hard on the iron doors each time he passed a cell.

Harry woke swiftly. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the black ceiling. Then his cell door banged open.

"You too, Potter," Lurchman bellowed. In a couple of strides, he and a fellow Atoner towered over Harry. They pulled him by the arms, making him fall onto the floor in a tangle of blankets. His healing body was on fire again.

Lurchman threw cloth at Harry. Then they left to terrorise another prisoner, leaving the door open.

Fumbling, Harry picked up a grey tunic. Fully awake now, he untangled himself from the blankets and pulled the tunic on. Strangely, even though he was not wearing glasses, he could see clearly.

With the light pouring in he looked around his cell. It was bare except for his old smelly bed, a small table and stool, and a trench by a corner used as a toilet. Near the doorway, there was a metal bowl, a cup and a spoon. He noticed for the first time that the walls, untouched by his Mirror's escape, was defaced with graffiti. Some were scratched into the stone bricks, others more chillingly, written in blood.

Grasping the cold iron door, he pulled himself out and the sight he saw made him gasp. Lining the walls of The Black Square all the prisoners stood, like a filthy grey ribbon. Some stood proud, others were hunch-backed and gaunt, and their eyes sunken and soulless, while a few prisoners trembled in never-ending fear.

There were witches and wizards, young and old. Guilty or innocent, they were all broken. The oldest prisoner was a little old wizard with a dirty silver beard that reached his waist. While Harry thought he was the youngest.

All eyes were turned on him. They were either curious or frightened to see him back. The Death Eaters he recognised, and a lot more of those he didn't, acknowledged him silently. The respect showed and Harry found it disquieting and uncomfortable.

Harry mentally noted the familiar Death Eaters; MacNair, Yaxley, Rookwood and Barty Crouch Jr. They didn't look fearsome now.

The armed Atoners patrolled in the middle of the square. Harry noticed that Agnes Cotter was nowhere to be seen.

"Hold your hands out," Brodes boomed, as he walked around, his bald head reflecting a thousand candle lights.

Harry copied exactly what the other prisoners did. He didn't want to get one movement wrong. Manacles and chains suddenly materialised around their wrists and ankles, and a long chain snaked between them, linking them together. He tested their strength, before giving in. No one spoke; all had bowed their heads now as the Atoners moved around them.

He saw that the trapdoor in the middle was empty again. Harry shook off the memory of feeling of the lash cracking upon his back.

"You have forty minutes of exercise," Willis rasped, observing them as though they were a herd of sheep. "Lovegood, you may begin…"

Harry looked up so suddenly, he felt dizzy. Lovegood? Where?

The chain in front tugged at him, everyone was slowly moving. Their bare feet shuffled along on the cold stone floor. Harry almost fell with his first step, but somehow managed to keep upright, always trying to focus on Lovegood's dirty, long blond hair. Harry's thoughts turned to Luna, and he wondered if she was alive in this world.

Harry was obviously slowing everyone down. Not only was he not in the condition to walk, now his mind was too distracted by Xenophilius Lovegood's presence.

"Keep moving, Potter."

It was a barely a whisper, but Harry turned his head toward the prisoner behind him. Yaxley had placed his hand on his back, pushing him forward.

When the Atoners were not looking in his direction, Harry heard Yaxley whispering.

"Is there any news from the outside? Is my family ok?"

Harry shook his head and shrugged.

"Has the Dark Lord given us orders?"

He shook his head again.

"Keep moving or you'll encounter their wrath again."

Harry felt the Death Eater place something into his hip pocket.

"For you." Then not another word was uttered again.

The exercise was monotonous and tiring for them. The Atoners grew restless and began joking to themselves, occasionally cracking a whip to scare them, mocking people, or groping the witches inappropriately.

Even though there seemed to be no action between the prisoners except for their moving feet, Harry noticed interesting signs of communication. Whenever the Atoners looked away, some did exactly what Yaxley had done: placing things into prisoners' pockets; others passed these objects or messages up the line.

Harry began to wonder what was in his pocket. In fact he could not wait to see it. Perhaps it was from Lovegood himself.

"Stop. Time's up," Willis shouted. "Move around to your cells." The prisoners obeyed. Lovegood moved to his and the circle of prisoners moved in line with him. Harry shuffled to cell number 13 and Yaxley to cell number 12, and so on.

"Hands out in front."

The chains slithered away and vanished with a clink.

"Back into your cells you worthless fucks."

Harry moved in as quickly as he could into the dim light of his cell. The door slammed behind him.

He breathed out long and slow, feeling the tension flow into the stale air. The door had a slat wide enough for food to be put through. He looked out, watching the Atoners patrol. He quickly retrieved the message in his pocket and unravelled it with shaking fingers.

August 16th, 1998

There is a rumour that the Dark Lord is weakening. Is there any truth to this?

Crouch

Just thinking about it made his mood better. He looked around for anything to write back with.

When Harry looked back down at the piece of withered, old paper he saw that the words had vanished. Gut instinct took over.

"No… Potter."

The letters slowly scripted onto the paper and vanished. It reminded Harry of Riddle's diary. The magic was so subtle, yet so oblivious to the Atoners. This was a very serious flaw and it put a smile on Harry's lips.

Harry placed the paper into a ripped hole of his pillow for safe keeping and lay down. He fell to sleep instantly, only waking to receive food. The gruel was slopped onto his little bowl and foul smelling water poured into his cup. He could hardly finish it, but he forced himself to because the prisoners only had one meal a day.

Without a window there was no sense of time within the cell. Day was night, night was day. Harry wondered when Dumbledore would come, if he ever did. He peered through the slat in the door, but there was no one except for the patrolling Atoners.

Hours passed when Harry heard the iron door to his cell scrape open. He instantly thought it was Dumbledore.

However, that moment of hope was quickly dashed. Instead, he experienced dread and a darkness so thick that his insides tensed. There was no way he could escape from this.

Brodes had finally come for him.

Harry flung himself out of bed, backing himself into the corner. He gripped the tiny table next to him.

Brodes strolled in with Bill Meryn and Octarius Caster, as though they owned the cell, and perhaps thinking that they owned him. Brodes gripped his thick leather belt, looking around the cell, amused. Caster tapped a club against his fingers and Meryn moved forward with his wand pointed at Harry.

Then Gregory Brodes grinned, his teeth all perfect and gleaming white. Again his irises were almost black. Harry knew Brodes was getting sick pleasure out of this. "Good evening Potter, did you miss us?"

Harry flung the table at the wizards.

(******)

Lily brushed away a loose strand of her sister's golden hair as she slept. Petunia's eyes had to be taped shut or her eyes would be wide open.

Octavia was currently sleeping in the armchair after a long arduous shift. Normally the Order would have imprisoned Octavia for such a betrayal, but Lily insisted that they shouldn't. She was only doing what any desperate mother would do to save her child.

The Healer told them that Lucius Malfoy had approached her and offered her daughter, Emily, in exchange for trapping Lily and James. They weren't strangers to kidnap attempts, but this had gone deeper: they had used a vulnerable Order member.

Dumbledore told Octavia that Emily was now an inducted Death Eater, and would not hesitate to kill her. Only then did the truth sink in.

In the end, nobody was hurt on their side. She couldn't believe Severus helped them, although Dumbledore told her it wasn't him.

"Lily…"

James was leaning against the door frame in a singlet and paisley pants. "Come to bed."

"I will, soon."

His warm fingers brushed her shoulders. He kissed her, before wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest. Ever since Petunia's rescue, Lily and James had made more of an effort to spend time together, and it seemed to be helping their relationship.

"I hope she wakes soon."

"Could you imagine her shock?"

Lily huffed. "What are we going to do about Vernon and Dudley? We can't keep charming their phone to speak in Petunia's voice every time they ring from overseas. They need to know."

James pulled away and sat on the arm of her chair. "Vernon will want her moved immediately. He won't set foot into this house."

"You're right. Let's wait until she wakes up and then we'll tell them."

James gazed over his sister-in-law's still body. "Never in a million years would I see a Muggle like her, under this roof. What—?"

Both saw a bright green flash outside the window. The light turned the white lace curtains into a brilliant green.

"GET DOWN!" James pulled Lily beneath the bed.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Out of nowhere there was a loud earth shaking sound, like a bomb had gone off. The little guest bedroom shook, the lamp on the bedside table crashed to the floor and portraits fell.

Octavia woke in fright, and so did the rest of the house's occupants.

"MUMMMYYYY!" Jessica screamed.

Lily fought her way free from James's grip, running to check on her children. It was all a blur in the hallway. Faces peered out. Remus and Sirius appeared out of nowhere.

"Mum, Dad, what's going on?" Chris asked hurriedly, as Jessica wrapped her little body around her.

Michael answered first, as he peered out of the hallway window, his eyes as big as saucers. "Shit, Look at Godric's Hollow—!"

Lily had to see for herself. Green flames rose like blades of grass into the night sky. Explosions continued, and within the midst of the flames and smoke and screams from Muggles and wizards alike. Curses flung this way and that in a multitude of colours. A battle was happening right on their doorstep.

Lily gasped. "Death Eaters."

"And Grindelwald supporters," James added, holding her hand tightly.

"There are battles occurring in Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and other larger Wizarding towns as we speak," Sirius said in awe. "Grindelwald's trying to flush out the Death Eaters patrolling the areas."

"Get out," Remus yelled to Lily. He pulled Jessica away from her mother and clasped a cloak around her shoulders.

"Come on, James," Sirius urged. There was excitement in his voice.

"NO, JAMES!" Lily screamed as Remus led her and her children towards the fireplace in the living room. "YOU'RE COMING WITH US."

James was torn. "I've got to fight—"

"NO YOU DON'T!"

"LILY, GET THE KIDS OUT!" Sirius yelled, he grabbed Lily by the shoulders and gave her a kiss on the forehead, while his hands cradled her cheeks. "It's going to be all right," he said, grinning.

He let her go and James took over. "Don't worry," he told her, then kissed her on the lips.

Sirius pulled him out into the inferno that was Godric's Hollow. As soon as the front door opened, the heat and fiery ashes seeped in. The screams were horrendous. More Order members appeared within the house and out, ready to fight.

Professor McGonagall appeared with bloodied Professor Flitwick and Hagrid. They were all supporting a very limp Professor Sprout.

"Quickly, Pomona needs help!" Flitwick squeaked. Hagrid and Remus lowered the Herbology teacher onto the floor. Her breaths were short and raspy. Octavia knelt by her side, checking her over.

"Grindelwald supporters have lost their battle in Hogsmeade," Minerva puffed. Blood ran down her cheek.

"I'm not surprised. That is, after all, Voldemort's stronghold," Remus replied.

"We didn't intervene there, but decided to see the damage Grindelwald's army would inflict."

"Still, you're all hurt," Octavia said as she checked Professor Sprout's vital signs.

"Yeh, no one a match to ter giants hiding in ter forest," Hagrid growled, eyeing Godric's Hollow as another explosion lit up the sky.

Octavia hovered the professor towards the fireplace. "I'll take her to HQ. Petunia's there now. Let's go, Lily. I'll need your help with the injured Flooing in."

"I'm not going. I'm going to stay and fight."

"MUM!" Her children were terrified.

"No you're not, not this time." Remus pushed them all into the grate. The Floo flames engulfed her. Tears covering her cheeks, she prayed, please, please let them be safe. She held onto her three children as they whirled into the safety of The Burrow.

(******)

"Potter," Agnes Cotter whispered as she stemmed the blood from his broken nose, "you mustn't fight them."

Harry groaned, resting his sore head on the stone wall. His grey tunic was now ripped apart and drenched with blood. "I'm not giving in!" The memory of Brodes's hot breath on the back of his neck disgusted him. "I'll fight them again if I have to."

Cotter looked at him as though he had gone insane.

Harry suddenly wanted to tell her that he was a Mirror, yet he knew she would think he had really gone mad.

She drew out her wand and muttered, "Episkey."

The pain Harry experienced vanished and his nose healed. He threw the blood soaked cloth from his nose across the room in a fit of rage. He was furious. He wanted to kill them. How dare they even violate him like that?

"Just take my advice… fighting them will only make things worse for you." Cotter moved onto his dislocated shoulder and fixed it with a small, painful pop. "Now, roll onto your side and pull you knees up," she said, peeling off his tunic. "I need to examine—"

"No!" Harry pushed her away roughly and covered himself. "I'm fine." He could deal with his more intimate injuries without her help.

"Call for me if you're in pain or don't stop bleeding." She had a spare tunic with her and she helped him into it. Cotter then retrieved a small vial from her navy blue robes. "Drink this. It'll calm you and lessen the effects of the events."

Harry took the clear vial. He thought about drinking it for a moment. He was scared that once his anger vanished, that he'd feel the shame instead.

"Drink it. It will help," she urged.

The clear thick liquid tasted bitter and sweet at the same time and stuck to his tongue for awhile. He felt the effects instantly. Everything that had occurred lifted, it was as though a huge weight drifted away and he could breathe again. He felt a golden wash of serenity and a dull sense of happiness.

"What is this stuff?" He handed the empty vial back.

Cotter stared for a moment. "You've had it before." Then she hesitated. "I never give out its name and it can be quite addictive if used incorrectly. Some of the prisoners use it often. The Atoners give it to them for certain favours."

Harry scowled and she proceeded to help him find a comfortable position in bed. It was then that a particular patch of the nonsensical graffiti on the walls became interesting to him.

Find the Stitch. Find the Stitch. A Stitch in time saves nine. Find it. You must find it.

"What…?" Harry drank in the words, pointing at them. "What does it all mean?"

Cotter narrowed her eyes. "You tell me."

As Harry lay in bed curled into a tight ball, blissfully ignoring the events of the night, he pondered about the graffiti. Some of it was concerned with killing Atoners and traitors, but most of it was about this Stitch thing. It was the fact that the 'Stitch' was capitalised that made Harry think that it meant something more significant, other than the mad ranting of a delusional mind.

Harry rummaged through his pillow pulling out the piece of paper. He decided he wouldn't send Crouch a reply. Instead he'd send it to Mr Lovegood. "Do you know what the Stitch is?"

He stared at the brown graffiti on the wall until he fell into a fevered sleep. His screams were mixed with an echo of someone else's torment. His Mirror's he soon realised. Again, he was unwittingly connecting with him and he hated it.

Amidst the blackness of his mind, Harry saw glimpses of water around him and pale hands. There was the need for oxygen, and the terror of something else besides the fear of drowning.

Harrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy...

That voice was faint, but it sent a shiver into his soul. He had heard this voice before. There was an indescribable feeling of loss from it and of hatred, but whatever it was Harry wanted to get far away from it.

"Your mine, Potter," a different voice whispered.

"No! No, let me wake up."

And then within the darkness, a Hogwarts corridor materialised, hazy and wispy, like a thick veil had been placed over Harry's eyes.

He saw himself—the Mirror was loitering near the Slytherin common room, leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed and his head arched back. He looked terribly pale and emaciated. Under the hood of his Hogwarts robes, his hair was long. The Mirror looked on the verge of decay, but there was no mistaking the power surrounding him. It was like the power of the Màgos was eating away at his body and soul.

Who was he waiting for after curfew? thought Harry.

"Potter…" The sallow voice down the corridor echoed around them.

The boy's eyes opened. "Snape."

From the shadows, the black robed figure emerged. Harry had the feeling Snape had been watching the Mirror for a while.

"Professor Snape," he corrected icily. "I don't know why you're two weeks late for sixth year, but I do believe that isn't enough time to forget the location of Gryffindor dorm."

The Mirror grimaced as he unfurled his crossed arms. He took one last look down the dark corridor where Slytherin dorm was and stalked off.

"Potter," Snape called after him staring at the boy's back with scrutinising eyes. "Where have you been for two months?"

He stopped, and stared stonily back, fingers twitching. "On holidays."

"You should go to The Hospital Wing. Perhaps your holiday overexerted you."

"I don't need—"

"Headmaster Dumbledore's been asking for you."

"Why?"

"That's the million galleon question, Potter. Why?" Snape whispered. "You're nothing special."

The Mirror cocked his head. "He's always had an unhealthy fascination with me—"

"Go see him. He's receiving visitors now."

A dark expression masked Mirror Harry's face as he stepped forward. "How did he escape?"

"He broke through the defences of a dungeon and killed a few in the process. But he doesn't remember much after suffering terrible head injuries," Snape explained. "He always asks about you though… I wonder why."

The Mirror frowned. "It's a pity he doesn't remember much, isn't it?"

"What are you up to now?" Snape hissed.

"Nothing, Sir. May I leave?"

The wispy Hogwarts memory disappeared as Harry heard something slithering in the walls and the words of a giant snake looking for blood.

Harry gasped for air.

(******)

The days wore on with a bland, terrifying routine. The prisoners would wake with the Atoners screaming at them and every second day they would be made to exercise.

Rookwood led the circle during Harry's second exercise regime. Heart thumping, he waited until the Atoners were listening to a joke Lurchman was telling them to slip the note into a pocket of the prisoner in front of him. "Lovegood," he whispered into the air.

The prisoner ahead turned slightly. His grizzly grey hair and beard was foul-smelling. He carefully pulled out the note when the Atoners weren't watching and repeated the process. By the end of the exercise period, the note just made it into Lovegood's pocket.

"Back to your cells," Willis sang.

Harry caught Barty Crouch's eye, before entering his cell and shook his head in response to his question. With a nod, Crouch retreated.

Back in the darkness of his cell, he paced up and down, thinking about the graffiti, but particularly about the enigmatic words of the Stitch.

In exhaustion, Harry would just sleep, other times he turned his mind to back home and thought about possible locations of Horcruxes, and if Ron and Hermione had succeeded in finding any. Sometimes, Harry would think about Ashley and Tony. Then of course the memories of Brodes and his cronies would slither into his mind. There would be no escape from them.

Then there came an hour when everything, every movement and every thought was a chore. Thinking just about anything was useless. Harry had no desire to do anything, but stare at the walls, always at the walls. When he closed his eyes, he saw nothing except the writing…

The Stitch, find the Stitch… a Stitch in time saves nine… the Stitch… find the Stitch… the Stitch…

The words must have driven his Mirror mad.

Harry expected a response from Lovegood, quickly, but none came. Exercise after exercise, Lovegood deliberately ignored him. Every time Harry tried to catch his attention, he looked away.

Then Brodes and his friends visited him again. The fight that ensued left him wounded, disgusted with himself and filled with rage. But he vowed he would not give in to their assaults even if it killed him.

During the fifth exercise regime, Harry got a note. He wasn't sure that it belonged to Lovegood, but any communication, from anyone, would break the nightmarish routine he had fallen into when all was quiet and dark in his cell.

Harry jolted when he slammed into the body in front. The line had stopped moving. He looked towards the commotion and saw that a female prisoner had collapsed. The Atoners moved like a pack around her. Her fellow inmates to her front and back urged her to get up, but Harry could tell she was too exhausted.

"Move away, now," Willis boomed as he whipped the prisoners helping the witch.

"No! NO, PLEASE NOT THE TRAPDOOR! I'LL GET UP, PLEASE DON'T!" the witch screamed. Two Atoners manhandled her and threw her into the trapdoor.

"KEEP MOVING!" Lurchman yelled, over the witch's pleas and tears, whipping the prisoners to move again.

Harry was stunned, and it took a painful prod from Yaxley to get him walking.

"Cunts!" spat the wizard chained in front of him.

Harry and Yaxley froze. Willis turned in their direction and caught Harry's disgusted expression. "Who spoke?"

The wizard who had spoken fell silent and Harry found himself unable to respond. Willis slowly approached them, judging him, Yaxley and the unnamed wizard.

"That was very unwise." The whip Willis held forced Harry's chin up. He didn't blink, wishing to burn a hole through the Atoner's head.

"Was it you, Potter?" Willis growled. "We've grown used to your mad little rants."

"It was Fletcher, Atoner Willis," Yaxley spoke, his words in a thick Scottish accent.

All that went through Harry's mind was the thought of that charmed fiery whip, the pain, the trapdoor, and pure hate. He couldn't go through it again.

"Potter, was it you or him?

Harry gulped. "It was… It was him."

The wizard to the right of him had a stoic expression on his face. It was then that Harry recognised him as Mundungus Fletcher.

"Filthy stinkin' Death Eaters!" Dung roared.

Yaxley grimaced. "Just stating the truth, Fletcher."

Willis narrowed his eyes, calculating the situation. "Yes, Fletcher… yes it sounded like you."

He uncoiled his whip and lashed it across the side of Mundungus's head. The wizard cried out in pain, hand pressing on the wound. The chains snaked away and the wizard backed away from the approaching Atoners.

Harry gasped. What had he done?

"DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!" Dung yelled, cowering like a frightened animal.

Willis cracked his whip on the ground, and now it glowed red. "Calling us cunts, eh?"

"Beg your pardons sirs, I didn't mean it. It was a slip of my tongue," he snivelled, shaking.

"Just a slip of the tongue," Brodes repeated, smiling.

Mundungus was shoved into the middle of The Black Square. He was forced to kneel and chained to an iron peg.

"BACK TO YOUR CELLS!" Willis yelled.

The prisoners quickly obeyed. Harry rushed to the furtherest corner of his. Doors were slammed shut. He covered his ears as the screams were terrifying. He didn't wish to see or hear or see what was happening to Dung.

A part of him felt revolted at the thought that he didn't defend Mundungus, and stop them from hurting him. But another part was glad he wasn't the one that was being punished.

Dung, I'm so sorry!

The screaming soon stopped and the silence was a godsend. The iron doors were opened and the prisoners were made to stand in solemn silence outside of their cells. They were all staring at the naked, tortured body of Dung in the middle with his tongue cut out. None of them seemed shocked or saddened as they stood with nothing but dead expression on their faces.

For Harry, he looked away, angry and repulsed. Then the guilt rose in him, like the rising sun, hot and red, making his insides squirm. He killed Dung…

"Let this be a warning," Willis said calmly, "We will not tolerate such behaviour."

In his cell, Harry vomited, and then lay on his bed listless, shaking in horror. I Killed Dung!

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Dung. He shook away the image. The Stitch…

The Stitch, THE STITCH! Stop thinking about Dung. He concentrated on the graffiti, willing away his nausea, and suddenly remembered that he still had not read the note. He needed a distraction from the cold hard guilt. He pulled the note out of his pocket.

I suppose this 'Stitch' you are referring to could be the Obsidian Stitch. Not many people know about it. It is a fabled dagger used in Dark rituals. Nobody knows if it truly exists or its origins.

I am not interested in Dark objects. Do not contact me again.

Lovegood.

Harry looked up at the graffiti on the walls. His Mirror was looking for it, but why? What was this dagger?

He fell into a fevered sleep, but the thought of the dagger never left him. It coursed its way through his dream as he sped down a never-ending corridor filled with iron doors.

He was trying to escape, but inside every door he opened, Mundungus's corpse stood. His tongueless mouth spoke. "A Stitch in time…"

Harry slammed the door in the corpse's face and ran down to another door, but Mundungus greeted him on the other side of it.

"Saves nine…"

"GET OUT—LEAVE ME ALONE," Harry shouted. He gasped when he saw blood on his hands. It was Dung's blood and again and again, every door he opened, the corpse tormented him.

A slow clap began behind him. Then there was a laugh—an all too familiar laugh.

"You can't escape, Potter. You're mine," Brodes laughed, his eyes totally black. He licked his bottom lip. Meryn, and Caster then appeared, rapping their weapons on the cell bars.

"No—NO!" Harry started to run, but he couldn't get away from them.

Suddenly, the corridor changed and he was falling, falling into a black abyss. He heard shouts and it sounded like his own voice.

Harry woke, inhaling water. All he could see was water, cold and freezing, covering him. He struggled, but strong hands held him down. He was going to drown. He could hear strange unearthly whispers around him, and cold ghostly hands touching him.

Harrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyy...

That voice again… it was so cold, so terrifying and so hateful. Harry's insides froze. Who was it? What did it want from him?

Do you feel us, Harry... Harry?

What the?

We know you're here… we know…

And then the reprieve; he was pulled up, gulping for air. Harry coughed violently. Three wizards in black robes surrounded him, all wearing golden masks. They weren't Atoners, but they weren't Death Eaters either.

"Fight it, Potter," an wizard spoke, holding Harry's chin up.

"FUCK YOU!"

But the words weren't from Harry's own mouth. Confused, he soon realised he was seeing and feeling what his Mirror was experiencing.

Do you want our vengeance, Màgos and Màgos?

Who the hell was it?

The golden masked wizard sighed. "Again."

He was forced into the water once more.

Harry woke up gasping, clinging onto his thin tunic. However, he had no time to examine what was happening to his Mirror. He heard locks unlocking, several loud voices and Willis swearing. When it went quiet he heard an Auror telling another that they only had ten minutes to see him and collect Dung's body or that he'd be arrested. Then the cell door opened.

"NO!" Harry yelled, scrambling out of bed.

Then as his eyesight adjusted to the light pouring into his cell, he realised that it was only one tall wizard.

"Harry…" The voice was calm, filled with concern. "I will not hurt you."

"Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore walked into the cell. This Mirror looked much older, more solemn and even unrecognisably strange with his cropped white beard. His blue eyes shone no trademark twinkle, no amusement… nothing. He hinted nothing, and Harry felt no connection with the man.

"May I sit?" Dumbledore asked. Without waiting for Harry's permission, he sat on the bed.

Harry would've offered the stool, but that lay splintered into pieces in a corner of the room. He had hid one of the stool legs under his mattress, slowly sharpening it on the stone, ready for the next time Brodes entered his cell.

"You've wanted to speak with me?"

"Took you long enough!" Harry snarled.

"I apologise for not coming sooner. The war does not stop while you are in prison, and a lot has happened since you were returned here."

There was a moment of silence. Harry opened his mouth, but he was speechless. Dumbledore waited expectantly.

"Sir, I'm not—"

"I know," the old wizard took Harry's hand gently. His warmth seeped into his cold skin. "I know who you are."

14. The Favour

The Favour

No… this is a mistake…

Harry paced up and down keen to be far away from Dumbledore. Movement helped lessen the brooding range of emotions he was beginning to feel.

Dumbledore sat in silence. "We can speak freely."

Finally, the shock wore off. "So—so, let me get this straight, you've really known from—from the moment I've entered this Mirror Universe— that I'm a different Harry Potter?"

"That is correct." Dumbledore nodded gravely.

Harry drew in a deep breath, feeling both hurt and anger rushing through his veins. He felt the pressure rise, ready to explode. "Then why the hell—tell me why you've left me in here?"

Dumbledore bowed his head once more. Harry couldn't take the silence any longer.

"I WANT ANSWERS!" And then all his frustration, humiliation, the torture and violations he had suffered burst forth like a dragon letting out a hot searing breath. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH?"

Harry couldn't raise his voice high enough. He wanted every single word to pierce through Dumbledore, to injure him horribly, just like the Atoners had made Harry endure.

"I'm an innocent man. I have my own war to deal with!"

"I know."

Dumbledore's voice was soft, like a whisper. Harry was incensed that he still had his head bowed, still spoke calmly back.

"Look at me," Harry spoke to the man he had once trusted and admired. "LOOK AT ME!"

The headmaster obeyed. When Harry saw the tears glistening in the old wizard's eyes, he hesitated.

"I am so sorry, Harry. Please sit down."

He realised he was standing over Dumbledore now, his hands in tight fists.

"Please sit. I have a favour to ask of you."

"A favour?"

With the dim candlelight flickering above their heads, he sat down. He tried to steady his shallow breathing, to settle the anger slithering round and round in his chest like a big snake, constricting his heart.

"Thank you." Dumbledore blinked several times. "I am deeply ashamed of your Mirror and what has transpired here, but your imprisonment, however innocent you are, and your suffering, will not be in vain—"

"What—?"

"—Let me speak—"

"I'm all ears," Harry snarled venomously.

"I know you are angry and suffering, however I only ask—this is the favour I ask—that you patiently wait in here a little longer."

"You want me to rot in here?"

"I cannot get you out even if I could."

"Yes you can!" He started pacing up and down the cell again. Punching the stone wall, punching the graffiti until the blood hid it suddenly sounded so appealing, but what he really wanted to do was punch this world's Dumbledore right in the face. "Take me with you right now."

"It is not that easy, Harry. The moment you step out of this cell without the proper authority, we will all die."

"Did you want me in here?" he snapped. "Because it seems like I'm trapped in a spider's web spun by you and my Mirror."

"No," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "This was never meant to happen! It was too late before I knew what your Mirror had done to you; making you escape and attacking you at the Dursleys. For awhile I thought you had escaped on your own. I had feared that you would be just as evil as he is. But I had never imagined how cunning Harry would be in using you." He smacked down his fist on Harry's pathetic mattress and for a brief moment he saw how heartbroken and angry the old mentor was.

"What was meant to happen?"

"I was going to see you in the Potter's basement. I was going to secretly get you out of their house and take you to a secure location—and find out if you were a friend or a foe to our cause "

"Jessica saw me, she gave me Harry's wand and told me to leave. Harry controlled her to do it. He was watching the house."

Dumbledore jolted as though he had received an electric shock. "Yes, my source told me that he had been watching the house... however, this is new information. How did he control her?"

Harry shook his head. "He's a Mage... I mean he caused the basement damage. He made me attack you, he steered me to Wiltshire. He wanted me out of there."

"I believe Jessica may have been the reason why he was there, watching. If he could control her, like he said, then there was a high probability that she could have walked out and vanished with her brother. That was his plan, until you arrived and it then changed to involve you."

The old wizard removed his spectacles and rubbed his weary eyes. "But this control is not something a Mage can master without eye contact. With you, yes, as you are both closer than brothers."

"That's unsettling to hear."

"However for now, for the two of you to control each other, you'd still need to be at close enough range for your minds to connect."

"Yeah, Harry mentioned that."

"So you met him?"

"Yes. Not a nice guy is he?"

"Hmm. Well with practice, this control will be at will. But, even with the Màgos, such willful control is frowned upon, unless it is absolutely necessary. You should know that."

"I'm not a Mage."

"Ah... so you're not?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "My Mirror never gave you options or trained you?"

"Not much training really, except teaching me about Voldemort's past."

Dumbledore fiddled with his cropped beard. "Interesting... I thought you were a Mage."

"I wouldn't even dare use Dark Magic to become one." Harry shook his head. "So how did Harry control Jessica?"

"He cannot without proper eye contact. Her damaged eyes would render the magic useless... What he told you does not add up."

Harry shivered. "Well, you'll just have to investigate it."

He placed his glasses back on and gazed sternly at Harry. "You didn't have to escape."

"You were all throwing some pretty decent curses at me." Harry was furious. "I had no choice after Harry made me attack you. Besides, I thought that you couldn't trust anything I said and that the Order would torture me."

"A possibility, yes."

"Since when does the Order torture people?"

"It is not right, though you need to understand that the Order could not continue to fight and exist in our twenty-eight years of war if we hadn't begun to fight dirty as well."

"So I was never safe at the Potters?" Harry chuckled humourlessly.

"You would've been with me there, for I knew that you were different."

"Let me get this straight, you were going to remove me from the Potters—you weren't going to tell my Mirror parents I existed?"

"No. You are in so much danger. So is your Mirror."

"Why didn't you track me down?"

"I tried, but I also knew that you'd ask for my assistance. In the end I failed to realise that your Mirror was also hunting for you. I was gravely mistaken to think he had changed his appearance similar to yours to protect you."

"I can't believe this."

"I know this is hard, but I hope it won't be much longer. Perhaps three more weeks—"

"Weeks?" Harry hissed. This cannot be happening. Out of all people who could've helped him, he did not expect Dumbledore to keep him in here.

"We must have the right timing and resources to free you. Voldemort is planning a takeover of Azkaban very soon. I am hoping you will be freed then."

"You're hoping Death Eaters will rescue me?" Harry snorted.

"They will not harm you."

Harry wanted to disagree. "You really want my Mirror to stay close to Voldemort, don't you?" He laughed. "It was probably why he didn't want me contacting you, afraid it would cause issues if you had rescued the children."

Dumbledore sighed. "Azkaban has made him rebellious and unstable. I think Harry wanted to control your existence here before I interfered. He wanted you in Azkaban so he could vanish with Jessica, Ashley and Tony. He was hoping that by the time the Order would've discovered the secret, it would be too late to ever find them, and perhaps too late for us to save you," he replied grimly.

"He succeeded."

"Almost..." Dumbledore corrected. "Harry had created doppelgangers in the past at Hogwarts to skive school, however you are real, and he took the chance to manipulate you."

"Why would he want to disappear with the kids?"

"I cannot fathom what is going on in his head," Dumbledore pinched the crook of his nose, "he may want to create a new faction of this war, defeat Voldemort and take over, or just leave you to finish the dirty work for him."

"So he used me to create an illusion and now you want me to keep up with this act."

"I cannot let Harry steer the reins. He is not in the right frame of mind and he doesn't have the right support. His plan was foolish: a moment of stupidity. I cannot let Voldemort think he has vanished or been rescued."

"Why not?"

"Voldemort is frightened of him. There is a strange bond between the two, so if Harry is thought to have deserted, or to be my agent, Voldemort will put up powerful barriers between Harry, himself and his Horcruxes."

"So do you think since he faked his botched suicide using me, Voldemort will want to keep him under tighter control now?"

"Yes.. and he hoped it would be you."

"He has no conscience." Harry covered his eyes. He felt crushed by both Dumbledore and his Mirror. "He used me."

"Yes. To betray you was absolutely unforgivable. Mirrors are stronger than brothers and he has destroyed that bond."

How the hell was he supposed to get out of this mess?

"However, you need to repair that bond. You need to help him. Please stay strong, Harry. Do not do anything rash, as you will not survive in here."

"Don't you think I fucking know that?" He was absolutely outraged. How could he do anything against the injustices within The Black Square without being killed? "Do you have any clue what the Atoners do to people in here?"

"Yes. It is the price of war and regrettably the price you've paid for coming here."

"So it's like that, is it?" Harry laughed out loud towards the dark ceiling, swatting away the hovering candle, making its light dance erratically. "So, you want me to just happily bend over the next time they come in here—?"

"I know exactly what they've done to you, Harry. It tears at my soul to know of your suffering," Dumbledore replied hurryingly. "We will get you out, and I will do everything in my power to help you get back home. Your world needs you. However, we need you as well."

Fuck this world's problems! The war here could go on for another twenty-eight years.

Eyes squeezed shut, Ashley and Tony's faces appeared in his mind, and then his heart fell into a bottomless pit. He couldn't leave them stranded, could he? He took a deep breath.

"I don't care about this world."

"I think you do."

"But why can't you get me out now? Don't you understand I have my own battle to fight? My friends need me. I need to destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxes before I can finish him off."

"How many have you destroyed?"

"Three so far and there's another three to be found. We were looking for Ravenclaw's—."

"Diadem." Dumbledore gazed deeply into Harry's face for a brief moment, a frown playing on his lips. "And that is precisely why you've turned up here, Harry. The diadem had never been kept in the Giant's Cut. Voldemort—I'm sure as interested as he would be in the properties of the cave—would've been too oblivious to realise its power to go there."

Harry felt deflated. Their entire trip, the months spent on the diadem had been wasted after all. This is why, with all his longing, he wished Dumbledore had not died.

"But you are right. The diadem is a Horcrux."

"Have you destroyed the Horcruxes as well?" Harry cautiously asked. "I mean, unless you've been reading my mind, you don't seem at all surprised by all the information I'm giving you."

"I never destroyed any of them."

Harry could've asked more, but he didn't care. "How did I end up in this world, then?"

"The Giant's Cut had been a place where Rowena experimented with Mirror Portkeys… I suppose the book had been floating towards you?"

"Yeah, and it touched me."

"The Mirror Portkey had been drawn to you because the universe it had been connected to was close to your own. The other Portkeys—however intriguing they might have been—would be worlds entirely different from your own. Perhaps, there may be a world out there where your mother married Severus Snape—"

Harry laughed out mirthlessly. "When pigs fly!"

Dumbledore raised his bushy eyebrows. "Nevertheless, there is an endless supply of Mirror Universes out there. Rowena only touched upon a few of them..."

"Did she travel here?"

"For a minute or so. I find it amazing how many similarities both our worlds have."

"Our war only started gathering pace over a year ago, yours has lasted many years. Besides, I am nothing like your Harry." He paced the cell again.

"However, after finally speaking with you, I know you are exactly like the boy I remembered fondly and proudly taught."

"Why did he switch allegiance then? Something is really off with what I've learnt about him so far."

"This is something I am trying to rectify. There were a series of events that… that turned Harry, I think, and I would like to know what they were."

"Events you wouldn't tell me, even if you knew."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "He was a caring boy, always concerned with the welfare of others, always doing his best to create an alliance between the houses of Hogwarts. He even formed a friendship with Draco Malfoy."

Harry found the concept of a friendship with Malfoy quite repulsive.

"Then please," he pleaded as he sat down opposite Dumbledore, fingers lightly touching the wizard's woollen blue sleeves. "Please just remember that boy you taught and get me out now. I'll help you with, with anything."

"But you are helping me. You are helping many people."

"How?" His anger was swelling up again.

Dumbledore stared at him. "I'm guessing that you are beginning to experience newfound powers and abilities the longer you stay here."

"Yes," he agreed.

"You'll start to experience things."

"Like visions—"

"Being able to see without glasses and Mage magic—"

"I had a strange dream about Harry. He was being interrogated, I think—"

"My dear boy, I do not care for the whereabouts or what is happening to our Harry. What I'm interested in at this very moment is you and what you can do for me."

Heat rose into Harry's face. "You know where my Mirror is, don't you? Does Grindelwald have him?"

Dumbledore sighed. "While you begin to experience the advanced magic our Harry possesses, he will experience things you possess—abilities he used to have, but has lost in his downward spiral into the Dark side. You can help him see the path he has taken and guide him. You must help him."

Harry was furious that he was being used like this. "How?"

"You've already told me how."

"But I can do it—whatever you need—outside of Azkaban!"

"That's true, however, Voldemort knows that there is only one Harry Potter and that boy is safely tucked away in The Black Square. That's one of the reasons why I can't get you out."

"Your reasons are bullshit," Harry hissed. "You have to get me out now. I'm innocent—"

"You are not the only innocent prisoner here." Dumbledore clasped his hands. "Harry you must keep up with this illusion. Otherwise you, as well, will be in greater danger."

"I just want to go home!"

"All I can say is that I have been expecting you for a long time." And with those last few words Dumbledore stood up.

"WHAT? SIR? DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!"

In a few short strides Dumbledore had reached the cell door.

"PLEASE!" Harry was desperate for the headmaster to stay. "What's the Obsidian Stitch?" he pointed towards the graffiti on the walls. "Where's Peter Pettigrew's Children? What's happening to Harry?"

Dumbledore turned around, his gaze lingering on the graffiti before he spoke. "I am very sorry Harry, I cannot stay any longer otherwise I will be apprehended by the Atoners."

"Why?"

"The Head Azkaban Auror allowed me this visit and I must now make it look like I had forced him to let me in, so that he is not in association with me."

"What was that commotion outside before you came into my cell?"

"Atoner Willis would not have let me visit you otherwise, had it not been for Auror Pickens's interference. He was angry with him that I wasn't arrested on the spot." Dumbledore explained. "It has grown considerably more dangerous for me to show my face, since I last visited Azkaban, over two months ago."

"Then why aren't you in a disguise?"

"Because the magic of Azkaban removes disguises." He turned away from Harry, ready to leave.

"NO!" Harry fell to his knees, tugging onto the wizard's robes, willing him not to leave. It felt childish and embarrassing that he was begging, but what choice did he have? "Your Mirror would've protected me from making a small cut, just to spill my blood, but you—"

Dumbledore's fingers pulled away Harry's hair to reveal the lightning bolt scar. He rested his warm hand on his cheek, blue eyes on green. Harry didn't care what Dumbledore was seeing in his mind.

"Are you sure, Harry? Are you sure that before he died, that he was only preventing that simple cut—saving you from your small hurt—only to rip open your jugular at a later date?"

Harry gasped. "He wouldn't!"

A sad expression veiled the old face of Albus Dumbledore. "You have endured greatly in your own world, and here. Yet we have suffered for twenty-eight years. Help us and I will help you. Just hold on a little longer. Give us hope."

He let go of Dumbledore's robes, finally letting the weight of the world pile on his shoulders, drilling him into the cold stone floor.

"How many more know I'm here?" Harry asked.

"Lily is torn about you, and the doubt was blossoming in Remus, James, Kingsley and even Professor Flitwick. I lightly Confunded them when the moment arose. Nothing drastic though, I needed them to stop asking questions. I may need to work on Kingsley again..."

"My aunt will wake up—"

"Perhaps…"

"I never expected you to be so different."

"I apologise that I am not the hero and mentor you perceived I was. But I don't think you really knew him and what he was capable of in order to fix the world. I want this war to end. It has gone on for far too long and I am living on borrowed time."

Harry slumped on the floor, utterly defeated.

"I must head off. James Potter has been missing for four days since the Battle of Godric's Hollow and I must help look for him."

"Dad—James?" Lily would be devastated.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I'm afraid Sirius Black has been killed, his body had been discovered soon after…" His voice cracked.

Harry could tell the loss hat hit Dumbledore hard. For Harry, the Sirius he missed was the one he knew and longed for dearly in his world.

"He was a great fighter and a loyal friend." Dumbledore knocked on the iron door twice. "Oh and Harry, keep you Occlumency high at all times. You will discover it will be much easier to do so now."

"I know."

The door creaked open and Dumbledore quickly left.

Harry was again alone.

As he suspected the quiet and the darkness curled around his body like ice. It was fiercer than anything he'd experienced thus far, as waves of emotions splashed over him and the reel of Dumbledore's words played over and over again in his mind.

You must help him… James Potter missing, Sirius Black dead… weeks… help us, and I will help you… three more weeks… What you can do for me… weeks… weeks… weeks…

"FUCK!" Harry yelled into the nothingness. The flickering light overhead made his shadow dance ominously, like a demon taunting his newfound misery. He smashed his fists onto the stone floor. He didn't care about the pain and no tears came. He had nothing left to give, but an empty black feeling.

He had never felt so alone and abandoned in his life.

"Fuck you!"

He gave in and lay curled up in a ball, his head resting against the stone, listening to his own thumping heartbeat.

He had two choices now: Listen to Dumbledore and he would survive. Or fight against his oppressors and die.

Harry had his sharpened stool leg hiding beneath his mattress. He was planning to attack Brodes and his cronies as soon as they laid their hands on him. There was no doubt in his mind that he would end up like Mundungus Fletcher.

He would never see Ginny again.

Then he remembered the words Dumbledore had spoken in the Great Hall after Cedric Diggory died. You must choose between what is easy and what is right…

Fighting and dying would be the easy way out in this situation. He laughed out loud. This notion never sounded so appealing than now.

Ron… Hermione… Ginny…

Harry let out a scream of utter frustration and another round of swearing. Then he pulled himself up, his knees and back aching badly. He rubbed his eyes and was surprised to see a pile of warm blankets and food on his bed.

He rushed over, grabbed the loaf of brown bread, holding onto it for dear life and gulped down huge chucks before he could even chew it. He rummaged through the small pile Dumbledore had left him. Harry hid the thick, rough biscuits, along with some chocolate and three oranges behind a loose stone in the wall he had discovered days ago. Harry didn't even bother peeling a fat juicy orange, he ate it skin and all.

15. Scratching the Surface

Scratching the Surface

"Breakfast's served." Caster pushed a rusted tray with water and pale gruel through the slat of the cell door.

Harry forced himself to eat the disgusting food, and used a bit of the brown water to wash his face. He helped himself to some of his hidden chocolate, before plucking out an overcooked biscuit.

He stared warily at it before bravely biting a corner of it. "Bleargh!"

It tasted awful, but something told Harry that this wasn't a normal biscuit.

Harry yawned, his eyelids suddenly heavier with sleep. He lay down and focused on his Mirror. After all what choice did he have?

Mirror, what happened to you?

He dozed off for mere seconds. When he opened his eyes he was still in Cell Number 13. However, no brilliant plan about his Mirror came to fruition.

Propping up onto his elbows, Harry gasped. Ahead, where the graffiti covered wall usually was, a mirror spanning the wall's length, shone bright. He jumped out of bed, intrigued and excited.

This isn't real—I'm dreaming. He glanced at the half eaten biscuit lying on the bed, smiling.

Approaching the mirror, Harry was shocked by his own gaunt and grey reflection. It can't be me! He touched the mirror in disbelief and it rippled like water. He stepped back as the ripples transformed his distorted image into a different one.

A light filled bedroom materialised with two beds and lots of toys. On the floor was a little black-haired boy playing with his toy cars.

Guessing what he had to do; Harry pushed his hand through the cold mirror. He wriggled his fingers and thought it was safe to go in.

He felt at peace when he entered the bedroom, and had the sudden urge to play and have fun. This is so strange…

Unlike the first time he'd seen a memory of his Mirror, this one was clear and crisp. He could feel the breeze drifting in and smelt burnt food wafting in from the kitchen.

Harry walked around to see the boy's face. The boy had his characteristic thin, pale face, framed by jet black hair that stuck up at odd angles. Though there was no scar, and the boy was wearing square-rimmed glasses, sitting low on his lightly freckled nose. He was also taller than Harry was at that age. He was well nourished and happy.

Harry looked away feeling a pang of jealousy. This was the life he might've had, if his parents had never died.

"Vrrrrrrrooooooooommmm, vroom, vroom," the Mirror played.

"HARRY, HARRY!" another child yelled. A chubby, freckly boy, around five years old, with short black hair ran into the room, carrying a box. "Look wha' I found in da' yard."

"Let's see it. Charlie, Mummy will kill you if she sees all the mud you left behind." He pointed behind his brother.

Charlie crinkled his brow at the muddy footprints. "Oh… will it make Mummy cry, like this morning?"

"She cried again?"

"Yep. It was badder than last night."

Harry felt the foreboding his Mirror was experiencing. Perhaps life here wasn't that perfect.

"When?"

"When Dumbledore took you out for an ice cream—"

"Which upset you—"

"I wanted to come too! Why couldn't I come? I wanted an ice creaaaaammmm!" the child whined.

"I got you all a tub of choc-chip—"

"BUT I WANTED TO COME!" Charlie yelled, his cheeks reddening.

"It was boring, anyway." Sensing danger little Harry pressed onto a different subject, "Why did Mum cry this time?"

Charlie calmed down. "Mummy and Daddy had a fight again. She told Daddy to leave da' house."

Little Harry had the look of horror. "It-it's gotta' be nothing. He'll come back. Now open the box."

"All right then." Charlie carefully peeled the lid off.

"What is it?"

Harry heard a small purring sound. He looked inside the box and saw something black, hairy and wriggling.

"Don' know. Hey Harry, did Dumbledore tell you all about his adventures?" Charlie asked as he picked up the hairy creature.

The Mirror pulled back, wary, watching his brother handle the creature with graceful ease. He shuffled away as it scuttled up his brother's arm.

Harry thought it was a baby acromantula.

"Not much. He talked about Hogwarts and war. Boring stuff, and then we went into this knitting shop, 'cos he wanted to make a really long scarf. Hey, Charlie, where did you find this spider, because they shouldn't be here?"

"In the yard." The little boy beamed.

"Oh… Sirius says big spiders shouldn't be outside of The Forbidden Forest, and if they are, it's very bad."

Harry looked up and saw another large mirror where the window was seconds before. He walked around as Charlie placed the creature back in its box.

The mirror reflected dark green trees and serenity.

Harry knew it was time to explore the next one. He went through it, this time with more confidence.

Around him, trees swayed gently, while the ever present mist hovered on the ground this time.

It felt wonderful being amongst the broken rays of sun after spending weeks in prison. Harry could stand here all day breathing in the fresh, earthy air.

"JESSICA!"

Startled, Harry swung around at the voice.

"JESSICAAAAA! SPEAK TO ME."

A much older Mirror crushed through shrubs. "JESS—YOU'RE OUT OF THE PROTECTIVE BOUNDARIES. WHERE ARE YOU?"

He looked sixteen, two inches shorter than Harry, though already, he looked as though he had fought through several battles and survived. His hair was long and he wore no glasses.

Harry could hear other voices in the distance yelling for the girl now. The Mirror was terrified and Harry felt it too because he was experiencing the same emotions.

The Death Eater walked around some trees and Harry followed close behind.

They both heard a whimpering. They both turned to the source. A leap of excitement filled them. They both walked towards a wall of long grass. Mirror Harry pulled the grass away gently, discovering a small girl, huddled into a ball.

"Jess," he crouched down next to his sister, "are you ok?"

Relief… Harry felt his Mirror's relief.

He touched her shoulder, but she pulled away like an injured animal. Looking into his face, her brilliant light green eyes were red, wet and her pupils wide with terror, before they returned to normal.

"I-I got l-lost. I-I was so scared," she cried. She swung her arms around her brother and wailed.

"Shhh, I'm here now."

"I-I-I thought I'd never see you again." She hugged her brother tight.

"You're very lucky," he whispered. "Please don't wander off again. There are a lot of bad things out here." He looked around trees.

Jessica nodded, crying even more.

"Let's go home." Mirror Harry held her tiny hand tightly in his own callused one. He ran his thumb over a bloodied cut on her hand, instantly healing the cut, leaving behind a small scar. He smiled, bringing warmth back into his pale features.

Harry remembered Jessica's words. "But you found me, Harry, and you smiled. That was the last time you smiled... You never let go of my hand…"

Another mirror appeared, shimmering within the hollow of a large tree trunk and Harry stepped through it.

The room was in darkness and Harry heard one child snoring and another moaning in his sleep before waking with a scream. Lights simultaneously switched on throughout the house and Lily and James rushed into Harry and Charlie's room.

"What?" James started.

By the time Harry turned, locating the Mirror's bed, Lily was already hugging the child, soothing away his fright. "It's okay, darling. It was only a nightmare."

The Mirror wiped his tears on his Falmouth Falcon Quidditch pyjamas. "It felt so-so real!"

"You've never had a nightmare before. What happened?" Lily stroked his fringe back, searching his teary eyes. Harry wished he had experienced this moment with his mother too, but he only had his aunt telling him to shut up when he had a nightmare.

James was tucking Charlie into bed again when the Mirror spoke. "You-Know-Who—he tried to kill me."

James walked back, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Voldemort. His name's Voldemort, Harry. You can say it."

"Darling, nothing will ever happen to you," Lily said, but Harry noticed she had paled. "We'll protect you and your brothers and," she patted her heavily pregnant belly, "your sister."

"But, but Neville Longbottom died with his parents. What—what if it happens to us soon?"

Startled, Lily pulled back. "What makes you think that?"

James knelt by his son. "What did Dumbledore tell you?"

The Mirror covered his face. "He told me about the prophecy. About me, Neville and Vol-Voldemort."

Lily's face reddened, she looked furious and James was livid. "He told you months ago when he took you to Diagon Alley, didn't he? He wasn't supposed to. No wonder you've been so quiet lately, and your teacher says you're not concentrating in class as much. What else did he say?"

"That I might have to help in the war when I'm grown up." The boy looked up again, his face blank of emotion. "I want to know what's happening with the war. I want to be prepared. Mummy, I saw so much green light..."

"Harry, I don't want you worrying about the war. I just want you to enjoy being a kid."

"I need to learn as much as I can—"

"You're eight years old and you're too young to learn magic," Lily said aghast. "You're going to learn how to build a bloody toy train with Sirius tomorrow, not how to fight—How dare Dumbledore tell you without asking for our permission!"

"Listen, Harry, in three years you'll go to Hogwarts and it will be fantastic," James grinned. "When you're there, keep your head in the books, study Defence, Charms and Transfig closely and choose your friends wisely."

"But Dumbledore—"

"Don't believe everything Dumbledore says." James ruffled his son's hair.

A mirror appeared on the wardrobe door, Harry confidently pulled himself through.

He was standing outside the Potters residence, watching his heavily cloaked Mirror open the front door. They were almost the exact same height now. He looked so worn out and unkempt.

"Hello! Mum, Dad?" Mirror Harry walked into the open kitchen where a gaggle of Order members stood. An Order meeting had finished and the members were clasping cloaks, finishing off their tea, shaking hands or hugging each other goodbye.

"HARRY!" Lily yelled. She caught her son in a tight hug before he had a chance to respond, kissing his cheek several times. "Thank God you're back! Where have you been? You've been gone for four months—I hate it when you leave for long periods like this."

"I wrote to you every week."

"I know, but your messages were always short and cryptic—Are you all right?"

The Mirror returned the hug as tightly as he could, lingering for a long moment. "I'm fine."

"Sweetheart, you don't look too well."

He let go, catching Dumbledore's eye, before turning away in disgust.

Harry wondered what Mirror Harry's relationship with Dumbledore was like at this stage, because he felt a wave of his hate.

"He's fine, Lily. Good to see you, Son." James clapped the boy on his back, and then whispered into his ear, "Was it an exciting mission?" The boy nodded. "We've got loads to talk about. You should hear about the raids we've done and the families we've saved."

"How many Death Eaters did you catch?" the Mirror asked, eyeing the Order members around the room.

"Fifty in the last month and twenty dead," Professor Flitwick answered.

"And a fair few ran with their tails between their legs," Sirius grunted.

"But every time we win, they retaliate with an attack on the Muggles," the Mirror said.

"It's a risk we need to take," James added. "We've finally located Lestrange's fortress. We'll be paying them a visit soon."

The Mirror cocked up an eyebrow. "Burn it to the ground, Dad."

His father laughed. "We'll do our best."

The Order members shook Harry's hand before leaving, until the last people remaining were his Mirror, his parents and Dumbledore, who he almost didn't recognise because of his short beard.

Lily touched his face, pulling away his long hair. "You need to eat; you're way too thin and pale… and you definitely need a hair cut now. Are you hurt?"

"I just need rest." He gently pulled away. "Is everyone sleeping—?"

"Jessica's missed you so much. She's been awfully quiet since she got lost in the woods and you leaving straight after. She has nightmares about werewolves and creatures eating her."

"I'll cheer the Newt up again."

Lily smiled, "I'm sure you will. I think Charlie's still awake, reading as usual."

"Charlie will be thrilled that you're home for his birthday now," James said.

Harry realised that this memory had only happened a few days before Charlie's death.

The Mirror's eyes widened. "I totally forgot!"

"You will be home for yours, won't you?"

He scratched the back of his head, thinking. "I don't know, Dad—"

"Come on, Harry, you're the first Potter in a generation to turn seventeen!"

Lily laughed, squeezing her son's shoulders. "Of course you're staying for your birthday. Albus wouldn't be so cruel to send you off again so soon." She kissed his cheek again, but he pulled away abruptly.

"Mum—"

"My little boy is all grown up now."

The Mirror insisted that he needed to have a shower and left the kitchen. Dumbledore followed him to the staircase with a dreadful limp. He was holding an ornate white cane with the head of a phoenix.

"Wait, Harry—"

"I'm not talking to you."

"You've cut off all contact with me since Hogwarts closed. I need to know what's happening," Dumbledore whispered.

"You've got no idea, do you?" he scoffed. "You've lost your right to know anything!"

"Harry—"

"You never cared about me. You only cared for what I could do for you." He was whispering hurryingly so that his parents couldn't hear. He was almost nose to nose with Dumbledore, and the old wizard didn't dare to blink.

"I have always cared for you. I still do."

"Don't speak to me again. If you want me to defeat the Dark Lord then stay out of my life."

"The Dark Lord? Harry, say his name..."

The Mirror clenched and unclenched his fists. "Voldemort."

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "This mission you've been on was never one I knew about and endorsed. You lied to your family and to me. You've been terrorising Muggles and torturing Muggle-borns. You've killed people!"

He laughed coldly. "I haven't hurt innocents for months now."

"But you had. Harry you are high in the ranks commanding Voldemort's followers. Very high up. You've disguised yourself well, I must say. No one in the Order suspects what you have done except I."

"Just you—?"

"What have you become?"

"I did everything you wanted. After what you did, do you still expect me to be your perfectly innocent little puppet?"

"What have I done?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"Too much. Sometimes I wonder if anyone in the Order knows what sort of a person you truly are."

"In what way?"

There was a tremor in the Mirror's face. "You think you're a great honourable wizard, but you're not. You're a coward. You use us—used me."

"I gave you a choice, Harry."

"I had no choice," he spat. "You brought me up to kill Voldemort!"

"That's correct. You knew what your part was, then what happened? What changed you? The last time we spoke was when the Chamber had opened. You pleaded your innocence to me whilst I was in my sick bed. Don't blame me for the corruption of your soul—"

"The power of the Mágos!" The Mirror was incensed. "You turned me into a Mage. You knew what it could do to me under the influence of... of..." He pursed his lips in fury. "I'm just collateral damage to you."

"No—"

"You really don't remember what you did to me?"

"Harry, I don't." Dumbledore sighed, taking a step back from the boy. "I'm still recovering from my injuries, if you haven't already noticed." He lifted his cane in response. "I have holes in my memories."

"Let me know when it's returned and only then we can have a proper chat. Be ready," he hissed threateningly.

Dumbledore took another step back. "Harry, think through your actions thoroughly. I'm watching you. You are barred from all Order meetings, henceforth."

"I don't care about your stupid Order. You're all dead!"

A mirror appeared on the cupboard beneath the stairs as his Mirror rushed up them. Harry bolted through and found himself in a dark house.

He felt the hair on his neck stand on end. So he whirled around, and saw twenty silent Death Eaters, wearing their cloaks and silver masks.

His breath caught in his throat as he moved between them. The leader pointed upstairs and held up seven fingers. Seven Death Eaters vanished. Then he circled his finger above his head. Death Eaters rushed into different rooms and five were stationed outside.

Suddenly the screams pierced through the rooms of the house. Spells flashed, forcing Harry to shield his eyes. Wizards were shouting, pleading, and children were terrified.

"Round them up into the living room," the leader yelled.

A shorter Death Eater approached Harry's side and he could feel the wizard's exhilaration and power. He was appalled, knowing that this wizard was his Mirror.

Harry followed him into the kitchen, and in the dark, Harry jolted when something huge and hairy slammed Mirror Harry against the fridge. The force of the attack dented the fridge and made the boy drop his wand.

As the chaos continued around them and the innocent family were forced downstairs. Mirror Harry struggled to free himself. Harry felt his fear, but strangely also his curiosity and invincibility against the wizard attacking him.

"Let go of me, Greyback!"

The werewolf growled. With a yellow clawed finger he flicked the Mirror's mask off, revealing the boy's disguised face. Greyback eyed the boy's throat with hunger.

"Your father owes me, Potter." Greyback sniffed the Mirror's neck, forcing his glasses off his nose. "His scent—strangely—like venison. Beautiful… I'll never forget him. I dream of biting, tasting, devouring him—you!"

The boy stopped struggling and his terror turned into a malicious smile. "You better forget. The Dark Lord won't be happy if you turn me. I'm a Death Eater."

The werewolf jabbed his wand under the boy's chin, his fangs now dangerously pressed on the soft flesh under the Mirror's left eye. "I am one of the Thirteen. Our master would grant me any—"

The scene disappeared into a void of white. As Harry swirled around, a hand curled around his neck. He couldn't breathe.

For a split second he thought it was Voldemort under that hooded cloak. But Voldemort was taller, his fingers longer, his skin white. No, it was his Mirror.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" the Mirror roared.

"Where—are—you?" Harry gasped.

"Faring better than you." His grip tightened.

The Mirror looked healthier. His robes were embroidered in gold, and the inside lining of his cloak was a deep red, like blood. His jeans impeccable and his sneakers clean. This didn't look like the Mirror being tortured the night before.

"You don't—have to do this."

"Get out, now!" The Mirror glared dangerously.

"Not Harry… Please not Harry" a woman screamed inside Harry's head. "Stand aside you silly girl, stand aside now!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he yelled.

His Mirror yelped, letting go. He clutched his hand in pain.

Harry woke with a start, fingernails scratching at his head. He could hear his Mirror screaming. "THAT'S PRIVATE!" Harry shouted back. He wanted to claw back his scalp and break open his skull and throw his Mirror out. "GET OUUUUUTTTT!"

Harry was banging on the iron door, he needed help.

The cell door banged open, and Atoners rushed in. Harry spat into their faces.

"STOP THIS, POTTER! STOP MAKING A FUCKING RACKET!" Willis withdrew a club from his belt, smacking Harry's head with it.

(******)

Godric's Hollow was eerily quiet. The smoke and haze lingered, and the rubble littered the ground where buildings had stood. Only a few buildings remained undamaged: the little church, the post office, Bathilda Bagshot's house and Lily's old residence, and a couple of Muggle houses and their cottage which was still protected by its Fidelius Charm.

She held back tears, as she stood in the middle of the High St. She breathed in deeply, inhaling ashes, dust and the smell of battle and death. Nothing stirred except for a light breeze and hundreds of gold Grindelwald calling cards swirling about like leaves in the autumn. People from every side of the war, including Muggles had died. After seven days, the body count had dwindled and only a couple were found living.

Yet there was no sign of James Potter dead or alive. Lily hoped today would be the day they found her husband alive.

Around them, wizards were clearing up the damage and some rebuilding had begun. The Muggle army, and MI5 officials had their areas cordoned off with their usual bio-hazard gear and signs warning people not to enter the roped off areas.

Tractors had piled debris high onto trucks to be driven away. Wizards helped in the rebuild as well, swishing their wands, muttering incantations. The Muggle Authorities seemed unfazed by the blatant displays of magic around them.

Lily walked over to Remus. "Anything yet?" she asked as he pulled a door over.

"We've searched everywhere twice. There are no bodies left. James isn't here."

He stumbled across to another section of the debris. Kingsley was shouting something from the other side of the street, where once the local and rowdy pub stood.

"Everywhere? Looks like Kingsley found another body."

"It's a dead Grindelwald supporter," Kingsley announced to the little group of Order members as they approached him.

He tore off the bloodied golden mask. The wizard was a familiar face. They had known a lot of the people wearing those masks. Disillusioned with Voldemort, the Ministry and the seemingly lax activity of the Order of the Phoenix, they had joined Grindelwald instead.

"Stan Shunpike," Kingsley spoke, throwing the mask away like a Frisbee.

"Stupid boy," Remus sighed.

Lily crossed her arms, impatient to start looking for James again. "Is it even possible James had been taken?" she wildly thought, watching two wizards levitate Shunpike's body to the middle of a clearing. Days before that clearing had been filled with a hundred corpses.

Kingsley blinked, twirling his goatee. "I've spoken with the survivors, no one saw him, or saw anyone being abducted."

"But it's possible," Remus added.

"James and Sirius did everything together. They defended each other. He wouldn't have been far from Sirius's body if he was dead or injured."

"Lily, I don't want you to get your hopes up." Kingsley held her hand, squeezing gently.

"I know…" Two days before, they had buried Sirius's body, not in Godric's Hollow cemetery but right next to Charlie where he wanted to be. It was hard not to hope.

Lily sighed, looking around. An old Muggle man was sifting through his burnt belongings. A mother was crying outside the church which had become a makeshift mortuary. "I'll continue on," she said.

It was down a smaller street, where Lily felt like she was being watched. She strolled into an alleyway, narrowed by debris, but with a clear exit in case she needed to run and fight.

"Lily…"

She whipped around, holding her wand right into the stalker's face. "Why are you here? Have you come to gloat that James is gone?"

Severus backed a step away, hiding in the darkness. "That wasn't my intention. I need to speak with you."

"I haven't got time for games. I need to find my husband," she snapped.

"This is urgent."

"We haven't seen each other for ten years—now all of a sudden you need to see me in person?"

"I need to tell you—"

"Why couldn't you have protected Harry—?"

"Just listen to me!" he snarled. "The Dark Lord wants Jessica."

Her wand hand shook and she suddenly felt faint. "Wha-what?"

"He wants me to take her."

Panic welled within her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Don-don't you dare!"

He raised his hands, unarmed. "I don't know what to do."

"My family's been through enough already. You will leave my little girl out of this!"

"I know that. That's why I've come to you. I haven't told Albus yet."

"Why the hell does he want her?"

"He wishes to have every Potter under his control or dead."

"No, you'll keep away from my family!"

"He's been summoning me every few days wondering why I haven't brought her in. I've held off as long as I can. He will question my loyalty and kill me if I betray him."

Lily trembled. He cannot do this to her, to her family. But she did not want him to die either.

She knew it was time. It was the right time to tell him a secret which she had kept.

"Severus, I am going to tell you something very important… something which I have kept from you and James."

She fumbled for a grip on the damaged wall, lowering herself down to the ground. His robes flew about him as he helped her, hands holding her upper arms firmly.

Worry was etched into his face. "What is it?" He touched her hands. He felt so warm.

Lily trembled, turning her face away. Her tongue felt like lead. "It's about Jessica."

"Yes, tell me."

She took a deep breath. "Jess-Jessica is your daughter."

Severus let go abruptly, as though he had received an electric shock from her. "Impossible!"

"She is."

"The girl—she can't be—!"

"I know it's hard—"

"YOU'RE LYING!"

Lily calmed down, watching the frantic, panicked expression on his sallow face. "She's yours. She looks like me, thank God. Otherwise James would've suspected… she has—had my eyes. I test her hair; she's definitely not James's. She's yours."

Severus sat back, far away from her. He covered his face with his hands and fell quiet.

"Say something."

"I—I don't understand."

"Ten years is a long time. James doesn't know about Jessica. He doesn't know I had one night with you. I wanted revenge for James having that affair."

"I knew you used me," Severus seethed. "But Jess-"

"Oh come on, like you really cared," Lily spat. "As long as you had me, you didn't care why I had come to you, crying and miserable, even though I never felt anything for you. I came to you for support and things just happened..."

He shook his head. "You're mistaken. She's not mine."

There was anguish and terror in his voice. Lily didn't know whether she should be angry or pity him.

"Why? You always wanted me to love you. And for a brief moment you had me. Jessica's that result," she replied bitterly.

"Lily, this is imposs—"

"She's yours." Lily's breath caught in her throat. "Jessica is injured and damaged, but she's a beautiful child. She's your beautiful daughter." How Lily wished Jessica was whole and happy again.

"You say you've tested her parentage. Show me this evidence," he commanded.

Lily pulled out a small metal box. "I test her everyday," she whispered. "Every morning, after I brush her hair I take a strand and check it in secret." She plucked a long black hair and held it in front of their eyes.

Severus looked surprised. "Why do you do test her every day? Twice would've sufficed."

She shrugged. "To be sure I guess. I'm the one who's had to live with this secret for ten years. Every day I hope the spell says James is her father and not you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Do it."

With a heavy heart, Lily touched the hair with the tip of her wand. "Parenta Sanguintus." A blue flame engulfed the strand. The cinders circled and formed a piece of parchment, hovering in the air. Trembling, Lily took it and read the contents.

Lily Potter

and

Severus Snape

She shoved it into Severus's hand.

He looked at it; in fact he stared at it for several moments in silence. There was a deep furrow on his brow.

"Do you believe me now?" Lily asked.

Severus rubbed the parchment in his fingers, testing its strength.

"Say something," she urged.

"Would you mind if I repeated the spell myself?"

She handed him another strand of Jessica's hair and he repeated the process. He looked down at the parchment. "Lily, I want you to tell me what it says."

She obliged. "Lily Potter and Severus Snape. You still don't believe it do you?"

"It says…" He fell silent for a few moments. "Yes... yes, Jessica is mine."

She was relieved that she had finally gotten through to him. "Do you think Voldemort knows?"

He still looked at her with concern. "I don't think so. He wants her to finish off what your son was meant to do."

"And what is that?" She crawled to his side as fear washed over her skin.

"I don't know. Every Death Eater has a mission or two. I have mine, and I've just told you what one of them is."

"Had it been Lucius Malfoy's mission to abduct James and me, using Octavia?"

He shook his head. "Bellatrix wants to punish me for helping your son. She asked Lucius to do the dirty work for her."

"Thank you for helping us at St Mungo's."

"I didn't help you."

"But—?"

"That was Emily Miles."

Lily gasped. "How do you—?"

"Don't tell the Order. I… look she's been watching her mother for awhile."

She nodded. "Severus, please help me protect Jessica. Help me find James, and I will do everything to protect you."

"I can protect myself." Severus smiled sadly. "Lily…" he took her hand into his and looked into her face. There was worry in his dark eyes. "Tell me, how are you feeling?"

16. The Unexpected Prisoner

The Unexpected Prisoner

Harry woke with his head thickly bandaged and throbbing. The moment he sat up the room started spinning.

"Careful." Cotter lowered him back into bed.

"What—what happened?"

She handed him a glass of clean water. It had been a long time since he drank pure, cold water and it tasted wonderful.

"Fractured skull, but it's all mended now. You had been flogged and thrown in the trapdoor for a day."

"Why?"

"You caused such a scene demanding help, screaming and attacking the Atoners. I got you out of there. I didn't think you were going to pull through. We're not going to have a repeat of Mr Fletcher's death."

"Thanks," he said, handing her the empty glass.

He stared at the ceiling, feeling his sore head, while his back was on fire again. Then he felt the freshly laundered tunic against his cleaned body. His hair, sprouting like some absurd plant from top of the bandage, had been washed too.

"Take it easy when you move. The more that whip is used, the slower the healing." She cleared her throat. "What made you act like that?"

"I had a vivid nightmare."

"And that was making you want to claw out your brain?"

He felt the healed, sensitive areas of his head where he had scratched himself. "You can say that."

"I've seen you do some crazy things in here, but you've never done that. It was like you were tying to rip something out."

"What other crazy things have I done in this hellhole?"

"Writing messages in blood, for one." She pointed to the cell walls around them. "Yelling, swearing, and attacking fellow inmates."

"I was probably bored—"

"During exercise, you'd sit down and laugh—ending up in the trapdoor." She continued staring. "Rest up, in a couple of hours you'll have to exercise."

"Please don't go."

She frowned. "I need to check on a prisoner who's become ill—"

"You don't belong in here," he whispered.

"I do." She frowned as she stood up. "Despite what you think, some Atoners don't enjoy what they do."

When she left, Harry felt a note in the pocket of his tunic.

I am a member of the Order.

(******)

During exercise that morning, Yaxley led the circle. As usual, little notes of paper were exchanged secretly amongst the prisoners.

Harry was feeling better as he shuffled along. No one spoke as the Atoners occasionally joked and made lewd remarks at some of the inmates.

Twenty minutes in, Harry noticed for the first time that Cotter was one of the Atoners patrolling The Black Square. She seemed to be keeping an eye on a prisoner who was swaying and looking very unwell.

The prisoner finally faltered and fainted right into the witch in front. The wizard behind him, Rookwood, tried to pull him off the witch.

"Trapdoor, NOW!" Lurchman snapped.

"NO YOU WON'T!" Cotter yelled. "HE'S TOO ILL. I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE HIM OUT OF HIS CELL!"

Harry had never seen her so angry.

"FINE!" Lurchman roared back. "Return him to his cell."

The prisoner was led away to cell 6 by Caster and another Atoner named Gerald McMullen. Cotter followed right behind.

"Exercise's over," Willis shouted from behind the desk. He was writing letters and inking and stamping them with a huge 'A'.

Harry rushed into Number 13, Yaxley to 12, the witch who had collapsed under the sick prisoner ran into Number 5, while Rookwood went into 7. Harry's door slammed shut, but he peered through the slat interested to see what would happen.

Minutes later, Cotter came out, wiping her hands clean. She was whispering to Willis, who seemed concerned.

"Incinerate the body, quickly," he said.

Hours ticked by, Harry helped himself to some chocolate and continued to peer out. He moved away from the door, petrified, when he saw Brodes, Meryn and Caster walking around the cells.

They stopped in front of Harry's.

Harry's heart was racing. He looked over to the bed. The stool leg was almost sharpened.

"Come on Brodes," Meryn drawled, "Let's go to Number 5."

Seconds wore on. Harry was surprised when Brodes never opened the cell door. Harry bravely looked out of the slat and saw Meryn opening cell 5. Brodes strode in first as he usually did.

It was quiet for a few minutes and then...

"COTTER!" Brodes ran out, yelling. He was covered in bloodied sick.

Harry sat up straighter, drinking in this new development.

"COTTEEEEEEEEEEERRRR!"

"What's wrong?" Agnes Cotter rushed into The Black Square.

Brodes pointed towards cell 5, he was kneeling on the floor ripping off his Atoner robe, wiping away flecks of blood from his scarred face. "That bitch is dying! She vomited blood on me!"

Cotter entered the cell, and then came out moments later, covering her face with her robes. By now a large group of Atoners had gathered around, although keeping a healthy distance from Brodes.

"She's displaying the same symptoms as the other. Bloodied vomit, black lips and tongue, enlarged lymph nodes, sepsis and swollen liver. She won't survive."

"—Speak English!" yelled Brodes. "What did they have?"

"I don't know, but it's spreading fast."

Lurchman opened Cell Number 7. "Prisoner's sick."

The Atoners made a wide clearing around Brodes, whispering urgently.

"Brodes, Meryn, Caster, McMullen, you're all in quarantine, report back to your quarters and stay there. The prisoners will stay in their cells until, whatever this disease is, is gone," Willis ordered. "Cotter, will you be all right?" he asked. She nodded.

Harry smiled in victory, his face stretched into the biggest grin he could muster. He wanted to congratulate the witch for spraying her disease onto Brodes.

Willis spoke to the prisoners. "If anyone displays signs of sickness, inform us immediately."

The witch died hours later and the prisoner in 7 was very ill. All the occupants of The Black Square were now in quarantine. Harry hoped that Brodes, and his cronies, would die a most horrible death.

The door to his cell scraped open and Cotter came in. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded. "Are you? Are you going to get sick?"

"I hope not, I take extra precautions."

"Will Brodes die?"

"Everyone wishes it so. He's a horrible bully to the Atoners. In fact he has gotten a lot worse."

"Whatever cure you make, don't give it to Brodes," Harry slyly replied. "Is anyone else sick?"

"Auror Pickens isn't faring well. The disease has spread beyond the square. Lovegood is ill, but luckily for him his daughter brought him some medicinal herbs last year. He's been storing them in secret. He seems stable. I took the herbs to see what I can do for everyone."

"Why did Lovegood end up here?"

"Why else? He wrote propaganda against the Ministry in the Quibbler. He's always been a bit bizarre."

"Is Luna still alive since she visited?"

"She's living in France with a distant relative."

(******)

For a few days the prisoners weren't allowed out of their cells. Two more prisoners had come down with the illness while another died. Harry soon learnt that McMullen and Caster died and hoped Brodes would too. To Harry's delight, Cotter kept reporting that Brodes was so ill, he was crying out for his mother.

With no proper light, the stuffy air and the claustrophobic feeling of their cells meant that some prisoners had resorted to screaming, begging to be let out. The Atoners placed a Silencing Charm around the Square whenever the prisoners were uncooperative, and this was the longest they'd have the charm activated.

Nightmares plagued him. Sometimes he fell, or Dung tormented him, or he'd see Pettigrew's children dead. Other times, he'd feel the hot, sweet smelling breath on the back of his neck, and he'd waken, thinking Brodes was there with him.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry thought that contacting his Mirror would be better than suffering the torment of his dark, silent cell. He ate half a biscuit and lay down. Instantly, he started to dream.

Again the mirror spanned the entire cell wall. And again Harry stepped through, although with a lot more caution this time.

Surprisingly, he entered a cell resembling the same one he had stepped out of. He saw with mild trepidation that his Mirror was sitting on the bed, wearing dark robes.

"I told you not to enter my mind," the Mirror growled.

"I want to know what's going on with you."

"Dumbledore asked you to, didn't he? Why do you trust him after everything he's done to you?"

"How about we talk about how you fucked me over and put me in prison!"

"Shut up and leave!" He stood to full height.

"I will not," Harry fired back. "You disgust me. But I'm staying here until I get some answers. " He sat down on the bed. "Why did you switch sides?"

The Mirror laughed. "You think I'm just going to tell you my darkest secrets because you asked me to?" He held out his hands for Harry to see. "Look what you did to my hands! What sort of power was that? I just saw what my master did to your mother as a baby and you cursed me."

His hands were burnt. They were blistered, red and angry looking. Quirrell too, had suffered the same injuries. "That isn't a curse, that's a remnant of the protection my mother gave me before she died."

Harry thought that the protection had ended when he came of age. Perhaps not. Maybe when his Mirror had seen the memory, Lily—his Mirror mother had unknowingly reactivated the protection. What did this all mean?

"Protection?" Mirror Harry paced the cell.

"Love."

He laughed. "I never thought of it as a protective power."

"Love," Harry repeated, "is something I'm sure you used to experience."

Glaring back he said, "That was a long time ago."

"You seem protective of your sister. What do you affectionately call her? Newt…"

"Shut up."

"Dumbledore cares about you—"

"FUCK DUMBLEDORE!"

Harry was going to do something dangerous. He felt that if he willingly allowed his Mirror to see his memories, then it might allow him to remember and feel things he had forgotten.

"You're not my enemy, despite what you've done to me. You are me and I am you, right?" Harry said. "I just want to go back home. I don't want to be part of your world."

"But Dumbledore's made sure that you're a part of it all."

"What about you? You were going to leave me stranded here so you could cower out."

The boy scowled.

"Look, you can enter my mind. I don't care. You won't get hurt, I promise."

The Mirror cocked his head, unblinkingly gazing into Harry's eyes in complete silence. The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. He was beginning to regret this idea.

"You'll need to go back to your side of the mirror. I didn't enter your mind the right way last time, which is why it caused you and I so much pain... I don't think it was loooovvvvveee that injured me," the Mirror mocked.

Harry went back into his own mind and the mirror began to ripple. He saw the reflection of Mirror Harry staring back at him.

"Whatever you soon feel, don't be alarmed."

Harry was worried now. Mirror Harry walked through the mirror and disappeared into nothingness.

He woke up. "What the hell!" A shivery feeling rippled across his body and his hair stood on end.

Harry clutched his head, sensing a presence in his mind, something that did not belong there. Suddenly feeling uneasy, dread filled him. Goosepimples erupted, and there was a weird tickling sensation spreading all over his skin as his muscles twitched. He needed to expel whatever it was residing in his body. He turned over, retched, and fell out of bed.

Shivering, he curled himself into a ball, and heard distant screams. But the screams weren't coming from the prisoners; it was all in his head. It was his mother. Then random memories flashed across his eyes.

His mother dead... Dumbledore falling… Malfoy hit with the Sectumsempra Curse… Cedric dead… Voldemort laughing… Sirius gone… The prophecy… the Horcruxes… Ron poisoned… Hermione petrified…The Dursleys… Ginny dying, her soul seeping out into Tom Riddle… Ron and Harry fighting in the tent… the cupboard under the stairs… "DON'T CALL ME COWARD!"

It had all bubbled to the surface. Each new memory was occurring faster than the last. He squeezed his eyes shut. "No. Please, look at anything but those."

And then…

…Harry was looking at his parents photograph. He saw their graves in Godric's Hollow… Sirius clapping Harry's back, laughing and ruffling his hair. The Weasleys… Quidditch… Hermione putting Harry's bloodied hand into a bowl of murtlap… The DA defying Umbridge… Mrs Weasley hugging him tightly…

Ginny kissing Harry…

As suddenly as it had begun, it ended. Harry sat up. The feelings were gone and he could breathe normally again.

He trembled as he ate the rest of the biscuit. Harry saw his reviled reflection and walked through the mirror, thinking he was going to have a nice conversation with his Mirror, but discovered that he was in fact, in another memory.

Harry ventured through it and found himself at Hogwarts, in a bustling corridor full of students, and saw his Mirror. He quickly caught up with the boy. Judging by the Mirror's height and the Potions text he carried, this was fifth year. He wore glasses and his hair was short and untidy. Though, unlike the previous memories, he seemed so much happier, more like Harry had been before Cedric died and Voldemort reborn.

But Harry jolted when he noticed Marvolo Gaunt's ring on his Mirror's finger.

"Hey bro. Hey Luna." Mirror Harry waved to his chubby Ravenclaw third year brother Charlie. The boy waved back with a huge grin on his face. Luna looked wistfully his way and smiled.

"Oi," Charlie blurted "don't forget tea at Hagrid's today."

"I won't. I wonder what delightful creatures he has for you to see."

"Oh haha, you'd be glad to know I've recovered well from last week's attack."

Mirror Harry laughed. "Yeah, back to school and you've already missed a week of class. Mum isn't impressed."

He looked at his watch and started to jog, rushing down towards the dungeons where Potions was usually held.

With a small pang of longing, Harry saw Mirror Ron and Hermione up ahead, chatting rather amiably about some essay they were writing for Transfiguration.

Ron rolled his eyes. "All right, Hermione, shut your gob, I don't want to hear anymore about this stupid law on whatsit gravity or whatever."

Hermione clucked impatiently. "Ron, this is a very important year for fifth years, our OWLS are just around the corner and every bit of inform—"

"Hermione, we've just started the year! Harry, hurry up, mate. Do you really, really want a months worth of detentions with Snape?"

There was a scowl on his Mirror's face and he quickened his pace, but not quickly enough.

"What—?"

As Ron and Hermione rounded a corner, someone had grabbed the Mirror by the neck of his robes and pulled him sideways into a room.

Harry followed before the door shut. It was a disused storeroom filled with broken bottles, cauldrons and cobwebbed old broomsticks.

Mirror Harry tried straightening his robes, and the look on his face suggested nothing but loathing. Still holding the Mirror's robes, Draco Malfoy was seething.

It seemed to Harry, Malfoy looked like he was about to do something he didn't want to do. His blond hair was long and in disarray around his pointed face. He had his wand pointed into his Mirror's face, but the Mirror wasn't perturbed.

"Are you trying to abduct me?" Mirror Harry asked calmly. "Pretty lame attempt… and you're on your own too?"

"Shut up, and listen to me!" Malfoy clipped. His cold, grey eyes narrowed.

The Mirror's eyebrows skyrocketed into space. He spread out his hands in a gesture of submission. "I'm listening."

"I have a message for you from the Dark Lord. He invites you to join him and become a member of his elite. You will bask in his glory and enjoy generous rewards."

A deep furrow replaced the raised eyebrows now. The Mirror was bewildered and confused.

"Me?" he scoffed, vigilant now. He yanked the rest of his robes away from the Slytherin's grasp. "Malfoy, you can march straight back to your master and tell him he can shove the message right up—"

"You think it's going to be that easy, now, do you? You're so fucking naive!" Malfoy hissed. "I will tell him—in a nice way—that you refused. Then he'll hunt you and your family down. We've been watching you for awhile."

"No! Really?" the Mirror purred sarcastically.

Malfoy scowled. "Why do you meet with Dumbledore every few days? Does he give you secret lessons in his office? Or maybe he just likes touching you down there—"

The Mirror shoved the boy against the shelf, knocking bottles and supplies to the floor. There was a long moment of silence and they never took their eyes off the one another.

"Are you done, Malfoy?" the Mirror icily asked. "I'm late for Potions and you're late for Charms."

"You're dead!" Malfoy pocketed his wand and left.

Mirror Harry didn't look away from the spot Malfoy was a moment before. Then he took a deep breath and rushed out. The Mirror didn't go to Potions. As Harry suspected and would've done, he went in the opposite direction, straight to the headmaster's office.

"Pumpkin Pips," he whispered to the boar statues on either side of the staircase.

"Oh very well, then," one exclaimed, allowing him to pass.

He climbed the stairs three at a time, before knocking rapidly on the door.

"Come in."

The headmaster seemed intrigued to see the boy standing there, panting with a stitch to his side. "Harry, come, sit, I am sure there is a spectacular reason why you are skiving Potions to see me."

Dumbledore's moustache quivered as he sat back down at his desk. Fawkes sat on the perch near the window, looking rather majestic cocked his head towards the Mirror.

"Malfoy approached me. Voldemort sent me a message to join the Death Eaters."

The amused persona displayed on Dumbledore's face was quickly replaced with something darker and worrisome. "What was your reply?"

"I said Voldemort can shove the message right—"

"Harry! This is most serious," Dumbledore interrupted, placing his long fingers together. He looked gravely at him now. And Harry felt the warmth and light in the room turn cold.

"Sir, you need to interrogate Malfoy. He's just confirmed to me that he's a Death—"

"No." The headmaster took his glasses off and pinched the crook of his nose, thinking. "Go back to Draco Malfoy and tell him you except the offer."

Harry gasped by such an order and his Mirror was just as stunned.

"What?" he asked. He was gripping the sides of his high-backed wooden chair. Marvolo's ring glinted ominously on his finger. "You—you want me to become a Death Eater?"

Dumbledore peered at Harry without his half-moon glasses and smoothed out his long beard. "You are ready to face him. He won't kill you. Your Mage ability is formidable enough… Though, you have a long way to go before you can truly kill him. You have another four Horcruxes to destroy; it has been difficult so far dodging the spies when you leave secretly from my office to discover a Horcrux. But it will be worse from now on if you refuse."

"But sir—"

"Remember the prophecy? He had killed Neville, yes, however for all these years he has watched you from afar. Now it's time for him to watch you with an iron grip on your arm. If you refuse him now, Voldemort will give out the order to kill you and your family. Charlie and Michael will not be safe within Hogwarts anymore.

"But you can protect—"

"Do you understand the implications, Harry? The Conditioned will not be watching you and your brothers anymore. They will have the order to murder you all!"

"Yes, but we were always in danger—"

"You will be a marked man once Draco reports to Voldemort. You won't be able to hunt down the remaining Horcruxes. They will place a Taboo on you, and they will know when you leave and enter the school. One mistake and Voldemort will know what you've been up to, and therefore move the remaining Horcruxes."

The boy was confused and terrified.

Dumbledore walked over, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Go to Draco Malfoy, interrupt his class, and tell him you will accept the offer. Voldemort will want to meet with you straight away."

Mirror Harry nodded sombrely. "Yes sir…" He sounded so defeated. "What's going to happen to me?"

"You will be trained as a Death Eater under the guidance of a Mentor. I suspect that he wants you to spy on me, as well as control you. Don't worry I will help you through it."

He shakily removed the ring from his finger, carefully placing it on Dumbledore's desk. They watched Mirror Harry retreat from the office.

He was about to open the office door when Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, I will be with you every step of the way… you will never be alone."

Mirror Harry frowned and it visibly showed the sadness and fear. "I know."

He closed the door and Harry saw that the back of the door had been replaced by a mirror.

Harry found himself back within his own mind and woke up in shock.

(******)

Nothing stirred in The Black Square the next day. Harry yawned as he surveyed the square.

He was about to eat another one of those peculiar biscuits, when he heard footsteps outside. Harry peered out and scuttled back to the corner of his cell, scared.

Umbridge, and several Atoners stopped outside his cell. Then the door opened.

"Ahem hem…" Umbridge croaked. She lifted a frilly pink handkerchief to her nose. "Good grief, it smells like something died in here! Hose him down before the meeting." Umbridge retreated, leaving Harry with the Atoners.

Willis grabbed the scruff of his neck and pulled him into the square. Suddenly, freezing water was poured down on him. Harry yelled in shock. He scrambled around, but whichever way he went, the Atoners were jeering.

Willis chortled. "Take him to Umbridge."

"No—NO!" he spluttered as Lurchman pulled him upright, soaking wet and shivering.

Chains slithered around his wrists and ankles. He was pulled out of the square and dragged through corridors.

At the end of one, there was a large black door with a golden sign on it that read, Interrogation Room 2. Harry's breath caught in his throat. This was not good.

Lurchman knocked and the door opened. Inside Umbridge and the two Aurors stood waiting expectantly. But with a little bit of relief, Harry also spotted Kingsley. He looked unwell and not his usual confident and reassuring self. Alarmed, it was then Harry understood why the friendly Auror looked as though he'd seen hell.

Harry heard something that sounded like heavy chains, and from the corner of his eye he saw a body suspended.

James Potter was standing on a high stool. His hands were chained together. A noose was bound tightly around his neck.

Harry gasped, as Lurchman pushed him in front of Umbridge. Dripping wet and freezing, he asked, "What are you going to do with him?"

Umbridge simpered, "We would like some information from you, and in exchange, your father will survive."

"I don't know anything."

"Don't be foolish, boy. Do you want your father to die?"

"No, but—"

"It's simple then," she giggled. Umbridge stopped inches from him.

She peeled the wet tunic away from his shoulders, then, ripped it right off, so that he stood there naked and exposed. She walked away looking satisfied.

He wanted to attack her right then and there, but Kingsley must have sensed his murderous mood. He shook his head warning Harry not to retaliate.

"Is it true that You-Know-Who is weakening?' Umbridge asked.

Harry eyed James Potter. The wizard looked defiant and ready. "I, er, I've heard those rumours, but I don't know. That's the truth."

Umbridge slowly walked over to the stool that was keeping James Potter alive. She touched the wood lovingly, checking for dust. "Again, I ask you, is your master weakening?"

"Er. Yes."

"Good." Her toad-like face lit up. "How so?"

Harry was raking his brain for ideas. He used his recent experience in The Black Square and past memories in his own world. "He looks ill. He drinks potions every day."

Umbridge circled James Potter, staring up at him. James could've easily kicked her in the face, Harry thought. Do it now!

"Do you know where the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is?"

"No."

"Ms Undersecretary, the boy doesn't know. We know the location has changed quite recently," Kingsley replied.

"Very well, then," Umbridge snapped. But then her facial expression darkened. "Why did Dumbledore visit you a few days ago, Potter? What were you two talking about?"

"He came to collect Dung's body, and I… I wanted to see him."

"Why?" Umbridge placed her hands on the stool.

"Er…" THINK YOU IDIOT! "I wanted to know how my family—"

Umbridge pushed the stool away from James Potter's feet. The chair clattered on the floor.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Harry bellowed.

James potter dangled, legs flailing this way and that. His chains jingling like bells.

Harry rushed over to him, trying desperately to lift his legs up, to stop him from strangling under the noose. "WE JUST SPOKE ABOUT STUFF— LET HIM GO!"

James was turning blue. Harry wildly looked over to Kingsley for help, and even though he was staring in shock, he didn't do anything, except twitch his limbs, ready to intervene.

"HELP! PLEASE, LET HIM GO!" It was no use; the weight of his father was pulling him down.

"What did you talk about?"

"RELEASE HIM!"

"MS UNDERSECRETARY!" Kingsley yelled. "James Potter is an asset to the Ministry. Kill him and you kill our viable link to Grindelwald!"

Umbridge was livid. "FOR GOODNESS SAKES, SHACKLEBOLT! CUT HIM LOOSE THEN!" Slapping her arms to her side, she left the Interrogation room.

The noose snapped and James crumbled to the floor, gasping for breath. Harry helped remove the rope.

Then James grabbed him roughly, pulling him close to his face. Harry could feel his father's spittle, and his hot ragged breath.

"I know who you are!" James whispered frantically. He grasped Harry's hands into his own, pulling them towards his heart. "I know!"

"Let go of the prisoner!" an Auror spat, trying to pull James up.

A red streak of light hit James squarely in the chest and his grip loosened. He was then taken away.

Harry sat on the floor of the interrogation room. Kingsley and Lurchman were the only ones remaining. Both looked unsettled, but then Kingsley let out a long sigh of relief.

17. Cupboard Under the Stairs

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

Lily regretted telling Severus about Jessica, but the pixies were out of the bag now. However, telling him her secret was the least of her worries. She watched Jessica like a hawk now, never letting the girl out of her sight. Was she being paranoid, despite being safe at the Burrow—the new HQ for the Order? Still, the occasional spy got through their security.

You are an idiot! Lily told herself. She had panicked when Severus told her of his mission to take Jessica to Voldemort.

He will never want to meet her, will never have any interest in her… and let's face the facts, Lily; you'll never want him to! What was the whole point in telling him? To make sure he wouldn't betray her again.

Could you imagine James finding out? Lily just couldn't risk ever telling him. For Merlin's sake, look at what happened when he saw Harry?

Lily washed her teeth rather violently as she replayed the memory for the umpteenth time. She let out an angry growl and scowled at her own reflection.

"Oh dear, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed again?" the mirror purred. Lily threw a face towel at it before storming out.

Most of the Weasleys, Potters and a few Order members were having an early breakfast before a raid. She wasn't hungry so after dressing she crossed the hall to visit her sister, being monitored by Octavia. Pomona Sprout was recovering in the bed next to her.

"Good morning Octavia, Professor Sprout—any progress with Petunia during the night?"

Lily asked the same question every morning and every day she'd always get the same answer back.

Not today.

Octavia looked as though she hadn't slept at all. "Morning dear, yes, major developments. I feel confident telling you now."

"What is it?" Lily was excited.

"I had known of such an incantation existing, but it is the Dark Arts… and very volatile, but Pomona urged me to look into it."

The professor smiled, and then winced. "Severus once preformed this incantation on our Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory. He was constantly falling ill. The charm showed what curses were repeatedly being placed on the student, because the normal revealing charms and potions don't work on Dark magic. I thought we should try it."

"And?" Lily took her sister's pale, clammy hand into her own.

Octavia's expression darkened. "It's called the Aura Incantation. I spent the entire night looking for it, and once I had mastered the charm, it revealed something."

Pomona walked over. "Severus said that most curses are only needed once for it to work. For others, the effects are temporary, so as it ages, the potency lessens, particularly those that affect the body."

"So if it was an old curse, the charm would reveal an echo of it in a pale or white colour," Octavia continued. "If the patient was suffering from a curse which had been repeatedly put on them—as in Diggory's case—the curse will have a brighter, defined colour."

"Do it," breathed Lily.

"It is exhausting, dear. I… I almost couldn't finish it and if I hadn't, it could've killed Petunia."

"Can you regurgitate the spell from your wand?"

"We can give it a go!" Octavia replied. "Priori Incantatem." A soft white mist was expelled from her wand, but it slowly gained colour. It turned purple, then darker and darker still. Intermingled with this, was another very pale green coloured spell.

"There are two curses. The original being the green one Harry placed, which is the botched Killing Curse, but the purple one?" Octavia's eyes were bright. "She's been asleep for a month now, and that purple one suggests that the curse had only been placed on her a few days ago."

"Do you think an Order member is deliberately keeping my sister in this weird sleep?"

"Maybe."

"But who would want to do that?" Lily gasped.

"We need a list of all the people who had visited this room in the past week," Professor Sprout interjected.

Lily counted. "Octavia, myself, Pomona, Jessica, Molly, Arthur, Albus, Minerva, Filius and Remus..." But Lily couldn't help feel the doubt circling Octavia. After all, she'd set Death Eaters upon them.

The Healer guessed. "I know what you're thinking, but I have no reason to do it."

"And I only woke up two days ago," Pomona added

Lily shook away her doubt. "Can you take the curses off?"

"I don't know. The Killing Curse, although badly executed was done with Mage magic—but its old and it could be easier now." Octavia rubbed her tired eyes. "I suspect she would've eventually woken up on her own if it hadn't been for this other wizard's interference. The purple one may be a new variant of the Maledictus Somnun Curse."

"Try to remove them now, before everyone knows."

"Hold her for me," Octavia replied. "She may convulse. Are you ready?"

Lily nodded, gripping her sister's shoulders. Whoever did this to her wanted to keep Petunia quiet, but why?

Octavia removed the tape holding Petunia's eyes closed and they sprung open, wide and glassy. She muttered the words of the incantation under her breath as she circled her wand over Petunia's body. A soft golden glow enveloped her.

Forty minutes in, Lily noticed things that looked promising. There were tiny fluctuations of Petunia's pupils. A twitch of an eyelid, her breaths becoming more pronounced, her pulse getting stronger and then—

Petunia shot up in bed, inhaling the biggest breath she had ever taken in her life.

Octavia fell back, shaking and exhausted, while Pomona almost toppled off the side of her bed.

"Petunia… Tu-Tuney?" Lily whispered.

Petunia blinked. "Wh-where am I?" Her voice was hoarse and dry.

"You're safe, darling, you're going to be all right," Lily said gently, caressing her face.

Petunia pushed her away staring at the other witches. She was having none of her sister's affection. "Who are you and where am I?"

"This is Pomona Sprout, and I am Healer Octavia Miles. You're safely recovering at The Burrow."

"The-The Burrow?" Then realisation dawned on her bony, face. "You-you're all like her!" she snapped.

Lily cringed. Shame those curses didn't blow a nicer personality into her. "Yes, they're like me—we're witches. You'll be pleased to know that we've taken the curses off—"

"LILY!" Petunia yelped, gripping her arms. "There's two of them—two Harrys!"

(******)

Harry went through the mirror. He hadn't slept since Umbridge had almost killed James Potter.

On the other side, he was in his cell and his Mirror stood with his eyes closed.

"Harry?"

"They still haven't woken me up," he droned. "They fear I might kill them all."

"Grindelwald's group?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I've been put into an enchanted sleep." Finally he opened his eyes. "That's why you can constantly enter my mind. I would shut you out with ease if I was awake."

"Listen, your dad's a prisoner and he knows who I am now. Kingsley said—"

"I know what's happening to my dad."

"You do?" Harry asked. "What happened to Pettigrew's children?"

"They're safe. As for me, I'm not even sure where I am."

"Why did you fail to kill your aunt?"

"My conflicting emotions tarnished the effect of curse."

Harry thought this was odd. "Your magic worked perfectly with your brother."

"Charlie was a different story. I meant it."

"Why?"

"Because he was meddling in my business and I don't like that."

Harry took a step back. "Care to tell me what that business was then?"

"No," his Mirror laughed.

It was worth a try though, thought Harry. "What happened that night you took Pettigrew's kids?"

"I placed your body on the beach, and then Apparated to Snape's. My plan was to quickly show our faces and Disapparate, before Bella had the chance to say a word, and then take my sister." The Mirror smirked. "Grindelwald had other ideas. The bastard trespassed into Snape's house and was waiting for me in my bedroom. We fought, he knocked us out and Flooed us out."

"Was Snape hurt?" Harry questioned but the Mirror shrugged.

"Where were you going to go if you hadn't been caught?"

"Somewhere far away from this war."

"And leave me behind. What were you planning to do with the kids?"

"I want to condition them my way. I wanted to slowly grow my army."

"An Army for what?" Harry shook his head, mortified. "Why these kids? Do you really need an army of your own when you can work with the Order to bring down Voldemort?"

"I want to do things my way. My servants. My terms."

"Servants?" Harry narrowed his eyes. The way his Mirror spoke at times was akin to Voldemort. It was frightening.

The Mirror deduced his thoughts and laughed. "Oh Harry, I spent a lot of time with the Dark Lord. I am his prized possession... his loyal puppy."

"That's beyond disturbing." Harry shivered.

"Look, I needed Bella to see the kids. If I didn't at least show up with them, Snape would've been a dead man. I need Snape alive because he's useful." The Mirror paced the cell, stopping only to examine the mirror of their connection. "But that plan didn't work too well, did it?"

"Did you want me to find the kids?"

"I hoped I would find them myself before the Order did. But since you were in hiding, I thought I'd give you that job while I recovered a little."

Harry was feeling suddenly anxious and he didn't know why. And then he realised his Mirror was insane. Becoming a Mage had distorted him. He was now retaliating against both sides of the war.

"How did you control your sister to let me escape?"

The Mirror focus turned to Harry's scar. "When I damaged her eyes and mind, I could sort of control her. If you hadn't shown up that day, she'd be with me now, but no, I wanted to learn about you first."

"What curse did you use?"

"I'm not going to tell," he smirked, "because if they attempt to remove it, they will kill her."

"Why didn't you kill her, like Charlie?"

The Mirror paced the cell. "She's young, pliable and I suspect with a bit of grooming she'll be powerful... like me. Besides, she still considers me her favourite brother. Jessica is useful."

"You are insane."

"Maybe," he chuckled. "My dad was with me for awhile, whispering me things."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted to know why I killed Charlie. He asked if it was because becoming a Mage changed me… boring little questions."

"Right…"

"Why do you trust Dumbledore?" the Mirror asked. "After all he's done to you?"

"I'm stuck in Azkaban, no thanks to you—I have no choice but to trust him, while I figure out how to help you," Harry answered. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really angry about it, and what you did to me, but I haven't got the energy to hate and sit in misery here."

"You forgive too easily—too trusting," Mirror Harry hissed.

"You're wrong."

"Do you think I can change?"

"I think there's no turning back for you. You're a traitor. Insane. You're drowning in a fucking mess, Harry."

"Why are you helping me then?"

"Because I'm trying to understand how I could become you in a different universe. And so far I am ashamed. How could you do this to me?"

"It's called survival. I'm choosing the winning team, my team."

"You just took the easy way out. There's more to life than just survival of the fittest: Loyalty, love—"

"That's a weakness."

"And I suppose that's the quality which sets us apart." Harry shrugged. "Weren't you like that before becoming a Death Eater?"

Mirror Harry snorted. "Our different upbringings shaped us into what we are: I grew up in a well adjusted family. You didn't. I had loving parents and siblings. You just had dead parents and family who despised you."

"Well lucky you," growled Harry.

"Sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs? I had a bedroom filled with toys and a mother who kissed me goodnight. I had three square meals a day and treats. You didn't." His Mirror laughed.

"It's not funny!" Heat rose into Harry's cheeks.

"I was chased around the house by my father, threatening me with the belt if I was naughty. He never hit me though. You however—before those Hogwarts letters began arriving—were belted if Uncle Vernon managed to catch you. Then he'd drag you to the cupboard.

"It didn't happen often, but when Vernon did it a little more of you crumbled. You stopped fighting back and just ran, hoping they'd miss—"

"I rebelled."

"Only when the house was dark and they were all asleep did you try. Taunting Dudley and stealing food? Pathetic," he cut. "It made you feel better, but it wasn't enough."

As the Mirror slowly walked towards him, Harry felt the cell darken around him. There was tightness in his chest, strangling him, and each of his Mirror's words struck him like an iron fist.

"I was encouraged to ask questions, to be imaginative—curious—that sometimes it got me into trouble. But my parents enjoyed the fact I was just being a kid. They loved the fact that I was just being their child."

"Why are you telling me all this—?"

"You were silenced. Your inquisitive nature was almost squashed. You grew independent of everyone. You didn't bother asking the questions when it really mattered. If you did, maybe Sirius would still be alive—"

"Stop this!"

"You didn't have a chance until Hagrid gave you that Hogwarts letter and even then you mistrusted it. The Dursleys almost won, but you saw a flicker of hope."

He backed himself against the wall, far away from his Mirror. "You're talking shit."

He chuckled and continued ripping Harry to shreds.

"I had the freedom to be just me and to develop—discover my power, my family and traits. You never had the chance, and I fear you still have a long way to go before you do."

"You've got it all wrong!"

"Do you think you've only been in prison for a month now, Harry?" His Mirror waved around the cell. "Look back, and think really hard… do you see it now? Do you see what I have witnessed and felt in your eighteen years of existence? You've always been imprisoned, and you still haven't found a way to escape."

"That's not true!" Harry yelled. His Mirror's words were like sharp needles piercing his heart. He'd seen the darkest part of his soul and he was telling him exactly like it was. "I discovered Hogwarts—"

But Mirror Harry cut through his words again, so silkily and quick, that he had no time to feel the pain before the next one sliced.

"You're right, you did discover Hogwarts. It may not have been the cupboard under the stairs, but Hogwarts was just a bigger version of that prison. It was filled with smoke and mirrors to keep you distracted. It will always be a terribly manipulative place where the adults raised you so you could sacrifice yourself willingly."

"STOP!"

It was suffocating. Harry hadn't felt like this since the Horcrux locket had hung around his neck. He instinctively looked down at his chest, but there was no locket hanging there. It was just like when Tom Riddle's soul was mocking Ron.

The Mirror's green eyes flashed red, like the flame of the hovering candle he swatted away. "Feeling it again?"

"What do you mean by that?" Harry hissed.

"I'm just telling you the brutal truth. You doubt yourself and your abilities. I don't. I marvel them. I know who I am."

"Then who are you?" Harry said, his anger flaring.

The Mirror closed his eyes and the tension in Harry's chest lifted a little.

"Who are you?" he repeated.

"A nobody now... A monster… It took you a while to trust adults. Even now you're mistrusting of them, but when you did trust an adult your loyalty was fierce."

"And you?"

"I trusted adults around me wholeheartedly. My loyalty was fierce too. I would've sacrificed my life in a heartbeat. I did what they asked me to do. I fought. I didn't ask questions anymore..."

"What happened?" Harry asked, feeling the darkness in the room lifting a little.

"I was getting closer to defeating the Dark Lord and that's what really mattered. One more… just one more, and it would soon be over, and then, in the blink of an eye, it wasn't."

"Why?"

"All that matters, is that in the end it's all for death and suffering. There will never be any happiness for us."

They were so close now that Harry could see the flecks of gold in his Mirror's green irises. "Are you going to fight?"

"I lost my battle a long time ago."

"No, you gave up," Harry whispered. "I wouldn't."

"I know. I've seen what lurks inside you, but you won't let it win. You won't give up your war, even if it destroys you and kills off everyone you love." Mirror Harry looked away. "I suppose, despite what you've been through, despite that cupboard door opening up to a world far more dangerous than you have ever imagined you've succeeded better than I have and ever will. So perhaps you do see an escape."

"Do you?"

"No." There was sadness in his voice, an inexplicable hurt that was tearing at his soul. "Hell has no doors."

"Harry, you can still 's always second chances."

The Mirror frowned. "That's exactly what my mother would say."

He disappeared from the cell, leaving Harry alone to face his own reflection.

18. Chickens Are Spooked

Chickens are Spooked

It was 8:30am and the Ministry of Magic atrium was buzzing with yawning wizards and witches standing in long queues. Security was strict and Aurors patrolled every Ministry entrance, lifts, and departments. A battalion of Hit Wizards in plain clothes also protected the Muggle Streets above the Ministry.

Each day, Ministry employees coming in to start their day's work had to be checked for Death Eaters disguised as them. Their wands were examined and questions asked. Their eyes were tested for signs of the Imperious Curse, and blood verified for Polyjuice activity.

Except today the routine was a little different…

"We apologise," an Auror wearing a gold helmet started, "we'll need to confiscate your wands for further inspection."

There was a sea of groans echoing off the marble walls.

"Settle down. Your wands will be returned to you throughout the day."

There were a couple of protests. "You can't just take our wands like that! We need it for work."

"You will do as the Ministry instructs or we will have a cell ready for you in Azkaban," the Auror said.

By 9:10am, the several long queues of Ministry workers had finally dwindled and vanished and the Aurors stood still, waiting.

(******)

Something clicked in Lily's mind. It felt as though her head was clearing up a little, like clouds dispersing on a grey day. In her heart, she had known something wasn't right, but then it was gone, and she believed that boy was hers. Strange, she thought, unable to pinpoint when her doubts had gone astray.

Which boy is in Azkaban? Lily felt sickened that she hadn't believed the boy who had Portkeyed into her house. "I've condemned him..."

"Lily, please believe me," Petunia said shakily, swotting Octavia away from giving her a potion.

"Thank you, Tuney."

Petunia gawked at her like she had gone mad. "For what?"

"We know the truth."

Lily left the bedroom in a daze, ignoring Octavia's worried questions. She wandered downstairs and was clasping a cloak around her shoulders. Her boys, Michael and Christopher asked her where she was going.

"To see Dumbledore," she replied monotonously.

Disapparating, Lily appeared in a green, picturesque landscape. There was a scattering of houses and farms that surrounded a snaking river. From a distance it seemed like there wasn't a house on the rocky hill she had landed on, until she travelled past a gnarled tree. A small cottage began to materialise out of nowhere.

When she first thought about Dumbledore's residence as a fresh-faced, awed Muggle-born girl starting at Hogwarts, she had imagined that he lived in a magnificent house with many rooms, nooks and crannies. Lily thought that mysterious objects and tinkering instruments adorned every inch of that house and, strange artefacts from all over the world would've decorated it.

It wasn't until years later, as a war veteran visiting, was she surprised that Albus Dumbledore lived in a modest cottage with only three rooms, and an outdoor toilet. The walls within were bare except for a few paintings, and whatever knowledge and objects Dumbledore had collected over his life were hidden away in trunks. It was the complete opposite of his office at Hogwarts which brimmed with the essence of magic itself.

Dumbledore was definitely home. The little house on top of the hill was billowing smoke out of its chimney.

Lily didn't have to knock, because Dumbledore had already opened his front door and was watching her as he sipped a mug of coffee. Twelve owls of various sizes and colours sat on the roof, waiting patiently for letters.

"Good morning." He smiled wistfully, though behind those blue eyes, she knew he knew.

"Albus, I—""

"Come inside first."

Entering the candlelit house, the smell of wood smoked meat and haddock filled her nostrils. Lily didn't take her cloak off, nor did she sit when Dumbledore offered her an armchair. She shook her head when he offered her tea.

Lily ventured over to the plain wooden desk, next to Fawkes sleeping on his perch, as Dumbledore flipped over the frying bacon. On the desk she saw several quills were working on their own, scribing letters. Each letter had the same three sentences:

The chickens were spooked and have flown the coop. Mother says don't go to the pub. Get the bread and come home.

Her heart fell. This was an Order directive which meant, Abort. Destroy secrets. Abandon post and run. Voldemort was about to attack and the Order was too outnumbered to survive.

Then she noticed an open letter, which no doubt Dumbledore had just read before her impromptu visit.

Chickens spooked. Snake's bitten. Poison spreading. Chickens can't save it.

Godric safe with the rising sun.

Flown. 3 golden eggs left behind.

"I guess you are not here to gossip over tea and biscuits." Dumbledore covered the letter with his hand. He checked his watch. It was 8:58am.

She tore her thoughts away from the cryptic letter. "Albus, Petunia's woken up. She says that there are two Harrys." The words left her mouth like sandpaper grating her tongue. Perhaps she could do with some tea after all. "We need to know who is in Azkaban. If the wrong boy is there, then we need to get him out, straight away!"

It had been awhile since Lily thought Dumbledore had been lost for words. The last time he was, it had been when he found out about Charlie's murder. "I—" He sighed and sipped his coffee instead.

"Albus?" Lily whispered, panic in her voice now.

"It is a little more complicated than that, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean? We need to find this Mirror and make sure he's safe."

"It's too late."

"You knew about this boy—oh my God! This boy is in Azkaban, isn't he?"

"Lily, please—"

"Why—why haven't you gotten—?"

Then it dawned on her as she gazed into those light blue eyes seeking answers, but only masks and lies stared back at her. "You put the spell on Petunia so she wouldn't tell us!"

"Yes."

"WHY?"

"As I said," his words were crisp, almost threatening, "It's more complicated—"

"I don't care! You have to get him out now."

Dumbledore placed his coffee mug down, rather sharply, letting the tension and the sound of Lily's frantic beating heart fill the air. "Do not get involved—"

"Albus, you really need to get this boy out. He doesn't belong in our world—in our war!"

"He will be rescued soon." He glanced ever so slightly at the letter under his hand.

Lily stood up, fury filling her veins. "Soon isn't good enough!" She was about to bolt out of the door, when a hand grasped her arm tightly. For an old wizard around 180 years old, who had just recovered from a major defeat, he had a surprisingly strong grip

"Let go. If you won't get him out today, I will find someone who'll help me!"

There was anger, and there was concern lining every inch of his face. "Listen to me carefully: you will not do anything stupid. If you risk rescuing him now, you will jeopardise your son's life—"

"HE'S MY SON TOO!" Lily yanked her arm away and stormed out.

"LILY!"

She was shaking and furious. Turning around in the breeze, hair whipping her face, Lily saw that the Dementor mist was starting to roll over the hill. "I thought you were different, Albus! Where has your honour gone? What about your bravery? This is an innocent life we're destroying. I can't do anything knowing that this Mirror is in Azkaban. How many other lives have you played with?"

"Unfortunately too many," he replied. He really looked his age now, frail and weary as though Lily had washed off the façade of greatness and power off his skin. "It is a means to an end," he whispered. "I will not die until I see this war end."

"Well, I will try to save this boy, even if I die trying."

"Then you will have destroyed our only hope left."

"Do you not hear yourself? There will be no hope left in this world if this boy is broken. I won't let him be our sacrificial lamb!"

"Even though, this sacrificial lamb is helping to save your own child?" Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Lily breathed in deeply. What was Dumbledore up to? "Yes—absolutely."

"You are an exceptional woman, Lily." There was no malice or mockery in his voice. "But do not meddle in this."

"We are supposed to be the group that people feel safe with, to give them hope and justice—"

"The reality is if we hadn't changed… then we would've lost this war a long time ago."

"Albus—"

"Enough," he interjected. "This stranger knows why he's still in Azkaban. He knows the plan."

"What plan? You know where Harry is then?"

"Yes."

"Well," she huffed. "Well, your plan can be put on hold for the moment because I am getting this boy out whether you like it or not!"

She stormed off, ignoring Dumbledore's pleas to return back and talk. Lily wasn't going to sit back, oh no. She felt lost and helpless knowing that her husband was missing, but she wasn't going to let a Mirror son of hers suffer any longer.

(******)

His house was quiet and dark again, just the way he liked it, but Severus stared at the little piece of parchment with Jessica Potter's true parentage.

Lily Potter

and

James Potter

Someone had placed a curse on Lily. Who had done it, and why this horrible lie that he was the girl's father?

Until he knew for sure what this all meant he wasn't ready to confront Dumbledore, or even help Lily. He was worried that taking off the curse would open the floodgates to an even more dangerous situation.

There was a sharp crack in the air. A smoking note appeared out of nowhere. Severus picked it up, flapping it around.

The chickens are spooked. Is there a snake hiding in the coop?

He instinctively touched the hidden Dark Mark on his arm and made a mental note of the time, 9:04am, in case anything happened. The mark had not burned since the day he met Lily amongst the ruins of Godric's Hollow. Since then, his master had been quiet. This was not a good omen.

There were times when high ranking Death Eaters were left out of certain plans. The Dark Lord didn't like putting his secrets in one basket. He also gave each of his servants a turn basking in his glory. Severus would find out about the plan minutes before an attack.

He read the last part of the note.

Pick a bone in March and doDge a toothache.

Save the golden eggs.

Golden eggs meant sympathisers with the Order of the Phoenix. Though not vowed members, since the Order was an undesirable organisation to be associated with, many had simply shared information with Dumbledore.

Something was going to happen to the Ministry.

There was a knock on the door. "What now!" He looked out of the living room window and saw a figure in a blue cloak.

He knew that shade of long, red hair very well. He rushed to open the front door.

"Severus—"

"Are you insane? You're risking you life showing up here!" His heart sank when he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

He scanned Spinner's End, then ushered Lily quickly inside. This was reminiscent to that day years ago when she'd come seeking his support. He was about to ask her if she had the desire to spill another earth shattering secret, but that would've been harsh of him.

"Too much..." She moved into the living room, pacing up and down, biting her thumb. He used to see her do this whenever Petunia was being particularly nasty to her.

"Jessica, James or Petunia?"

"No—this is about Harry."

"Why?" His voice was oily.

Lily glared at him. "Albus won't help. I need to get him out of Azkaban now. They have the wrong boy there."

"What are you talking about?" Whoever put that curse on her wanted her to go mad.

"You… you know nothing?"

"As you can see, Lily, I am also a high ranking, senior Death Eater. While I report to Albus, he in turn, tells me very little."

"Well, I'm going to tell you one hell of a secret."

Another secret… lovely.

At first Severus didn't believe a word of it, but as he thought about it, it sort of made sense. Hadn't he thought it strange that the boy had suddenly vanished to save two children from Bellatrix's grip, only to then return? In truth, Severus was sure that the boy didn't even know of their whereabouts.

Now I have two Potter twats to deal with!

"Ahh, so, Albus doesn't want to help him?"

"No. I can't just leave him in prison. I am so angry. I just don't know what to do."

"Lily…" he gently coaxed her to sit on the couch, the very same spot Bellatrix had sat. "I trust Albus Dumbledore, and if he doesn't want to get the boy out yet, then there's very good reason for it."

"But—"

"I know it's hard."

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE ON HIS SIDE!" Lily screeched. "Everyone would be on Dumbledore's side, but I-I thought you—The boy is innocent!"

Lily rushed out of the room, but Severus wasn't going to let her go easily. "STOP!" he yelled. He grasped both her arms, stopping her getting to the door.

"GET OFF ME!"

He held on to her tightly as she struggled in his arms. He was not about to let her go in this state and die trying to save this Mirror son of hers.

"LILY!"

"LET GO!" She bit his arm and almost escaped as the shock of pain hit him, but Severus pulled her violently back, with her hair flying in every direction, like dark fire.

Now face to face, he huddled her crushingly tight, until she was bashing his chest with her fists, feet kicking his legs. He was determined not to lose her.

"YOU HATE HIM! YOU JUST WANT TO SEE HIM DIE—"

"I don't hide my feelings towards your boy, Lily, you know why—but I don't want him dead. I made a promise to Dumbledore a long time ago that I'd watch over him."

"You did?" she gasped.

"The boy is an insufferable brat, exactly like his father."

"Severus, your past is clouding your vision. Yes, he may closely resemble his father, but his nature is that of his mother's… I have watched him grow; he is a modest, compassionate boy. Intelligent and brave, and his power will grow. You must protect him. Voldemort has become acutely aware of his mistake."

Lily looked up, her tears falling now. "You failed." She slapped him hard.

The shock was not from the actual hit itself, it was the rage and hurt behind it that stung most. He didn't react. Severus knew he deserved another and another one after.

"I know…"

"This is your fault. If you never told Voldemort that prophecy—"

"How was I to know the prophecy involved you? I was a stupid boy then. But I asked Dumbledore to protect you when I knew you were targeted."

"IT DOESN'T MATTER!" she screamed. "YOU DESTROYED AN ENTIRE FAMILY!"

There was never a night that Severus didn't dream about baby Neville Longbottom's lifeless eyes staring back at him. Sobbing, he'd plead for the little boy in his arms to breathe.

He had inadvertently killed the boy and his parents. Severus had become a monster. His love for Lily then had not been love, it was destruction incarnate.

"—And if you didn't hate James so much because of your past... They were just stupid kids!"

"Hey, Snivellus."

"Hey, where you going?"

"Oi, don't ignore us!"

Yellow liquid drenched his head, down to his socks. Students everywhere laughed and laughed. Severus winced, smelling the strong odour of urine and the sting in his eyes. He saw the chamber pot rolling to a stop at his feet. He wouldn't let them beat him this time. He walked past the throng of laughing and pointing students. Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew were all jeering in his wake.

"Stupid kids can leave a lasting impression!" he roared, shaking her. "Kids can destroy lives just as easily as adults can. LOOK AT WHAT HARRY DID TO YOUR FAMILY!"

He let go of her, realising his mistake and backed against the wall, afraid he'd do something else he'd regret. It was moments like these Severus had been afraid that he was channelling his father's violent soul.

Lily started to sob, falling to her knees. "I know… I can't lose him," she cried, "I can't lose him again…"

He calmed down, wringing his shaking hands. "I will speak with Albus. Maybe I can help, in some, small way."

If the Dark Lord was going to attack the Ministry soon, Dumbledore would want to rethink the situation about keeping the Mirror in Azkaban.

Speak of the devil, Severus thought, recoiling as his Dark Mark burned.

"Lily, go home. The Dark Lord's summoned me."

(******)

At 9:13am, Fire grates roared to life instantaneously, and Death Eaters appeared, robed and ready.

Voldemort was at the front, holding his Elder wand. Close behind, the inner circle comprised of his most insidious and senior Death Eaters followed. Then the rest of the purebloods joined in, followed by the Conditioned. Next to come were the half-bloods and finally the half-breeds.

They marched forward like a tsunami of black robes and silver masks.

19. The Ministry Falling

The Ministry Falling

Cotter walked into Harry's cell, carrying a small bottle.

"What's happening?" he asked, staring at the orange liquid sloshing inside the bottle.

"Quarantine's over. Drink the potion—it's a preventative." She uncorked it, pouring a little into a tin cup.

Harry accepted it. "What was the disease?"

"A magical cousin of the Black Plague," she answered. "Bernard—the first ill prisoner—had eaten a rat in his cell. Rapid infections sometimes occur here."

Harry drank the disgusting potion. It tasted like rotting sardines. "Did Brodes survive?"

Her expression turned dark. "Unfortunately, he isn't an easy man to kill. He's already up terrorising Class B prisoners out of The Black Square. Meryn survived too, and the infected prisoners and Aurors will make it through now."

"Listen, do you know what happened to my father? Is he still here?"

"He was taken away, back to a more secure location. But your father left you message: the children are safe and well."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

(******)

After Cotter left, boredom got to Harry. He ate another one of Dumbledore's biscuits to resume the strange Mirror connection, even though he was still unnerved by it. He walked through the mirror, ignoring his reflection and found himself following a much more agile Remus Lupin up the Potter's staircase, holding his little Mirror's hand.

Remus occasionally slowed down so that the Mirror could catch up. They were silent as they walked through the corridor upstairs. Then voices were drifting out from the closed bedroom door at the end.

"… In the last few months he's displayed really powerful, meditated magic. It exhausts him, Albus. It's not accidental magic, it's more intentional," Lily said. "I saw him transfigure Michael's nappy into an almost perfect safety pin. What four year old child does that? Then he sleeps for unusually long periods afterwards."

"…But Albus, surely, this magic is just too rare. No one in my family has ever been one—"

"It doesn't necessarily have to be from your side of the family, James. Even though Lily is Muggle-born, somewhere down her family line there's magic," Dumbledore spoke.

"Well, it definitely skipped a few generations," she exclaimed. "Do you think this is the Power the Dark Lord knows not, as the Prophecy states?"

Remus knocked, breaking the conversation within.

"Come in," Lily answered.

The bedroom door swung in. Harry saw a younger Dumbledore with grey hair and his trademark long beard. Lily was sitting on the edge of the James's side of the bed. James was slowly, but shakily drinking a cup of tea, extremely pale and clammy.

Remus tugged on the child to enter. "Come on, Harry, its okay."

James grinned over his tea. "Here's my little tyke!"

"Harry, come here." Lily smiled, patting her lap.

The little boy gulped, looking at Remus for reassurance. The werewolf smiled gently and urged him on.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore greeted happily.

"Hullo Mr Dum-bly-dore," the boy said shyly as he clambered onto his mother's lap. His green eyes were reproachful, before he buried his head into Lily's flowery dress.

"Harry," she laughed, "darling, there's nothing to be shy about."

The boy mumbled something, somewhere amidst his mother's armpit.

"…No sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Mr Dumbledore has a few questions for you."

Dumbledore rummaged through his purple robes, and then tapped the armchair next to him. "Harry, sit here with me. I have a treat for you."

The Mirror reluctantly obeyed and the old wizard pulled out a chocolate frog, handing it to him.

"Thank you, Mr Dum-bly-dore."

"Would you like me to tell you an amazing story?" Dumbledore smiled.

Little Harry turned to his parents, again looking for support. They both smiled back. "Yes, thank you, Mr Dum-bly-dore."

"A long time ago—"

"How many years?" the boy interjected.

James snorted and Harry saw a cheeky smile appearing just beneath Dumbledore's grey whiskers.

"Oh… lets say over a hundred years, give or take." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "There was a little boy just like you—"

"Did he wear glasses?"

"No, but he was just as small and skinny as you are, and he asked a lot of questions too." He peered at the child above his half-moon spectacles. "This little boy was happy and he played with his brothers, but sometimes the children made things happen by accident because their magic was growing. This is all normal. This is all a part of growing up. But sometimes, this boy's magical accidents felt different to him. They felt so powerful that he was very tired afterwards and had to take long naps. Do you understand, Harry?"

He nodded as he played with his unopened chocolate frog.

"One day, this boy was playing hide and seek and hid behind a big tree. He touched this tree and all of a sudden he felt a strange power—an energy he never felt before entered his body. The boy looked up and saw that the leaves on the tree were dying. When he pulled away, the leaves survived. The boy touched the tree again and he felt its power becoming a part of him. The tree died, but the boy now had the tree's power within him."

Little Harry's brow crinkled and he sullenly bowed his head.

"Harry," Dumbledore said soothingly. "What happened to your father yesterday?"

"I don't know. We were pwa-laying and I touched his face, and, and I felt like—I felt weird..."

"How did that power feel?"

"Stwange Mr Dum-bly-dore, but it felt nice. I will never dwoo it again." The boy frowned, giving his father furtive glances. "Will Daddy be okay?"

"He will be fine. Has this happened before?"

"Sort of, with Mildred, my cat. I touched her once, and I could feel her feelings. She didn't like that and she bit me and—and she ran off." The boy held up a finger. "Can you see the scar?"

"Oh dear, that does look nasty. Harry, eat your chocolate frog." Dumbledore looked up at his parents.

"Surely he can't be?" James said. "Little children don't draw power from other things. This is D-A-R-K—"

"James," Lily snapped, "not now."

Dumbledore played with his beard. "Yes they do at this age. It is natural for young— M-A-G-E-S. It's only a short phase, called the Peperit Level. It is a foretaste of what they can become with the honing of their ability. It is such a flitting glimpse of their ability that many don't recognise it for what it truly is. Therefore, many wizards grow up never knowing of their gift. If Harry hadn't retrieved your power, James, we may never have known."

"I rather we don't—"

"James!" Lily huffed indignantly. She asked Remus to remove her son from the room.

As Harry watched Remus take the child's hand, he saw a mirror materialise on the wardrobe door. He quickly went through it.

He found himself on a windy cliff top, and witnessed his sixteen year old Mirror sitting precariously on its edge.

Harry strolled forward with the wind whipping up his hair and gazed below. It would've been a good hundred metre drop, and the jagged rocks would've ripped anyone to shreds. Harry watched the waves pound them, and tasted the saltwater drops drifting in the wind.

But something was wrong. He observed every feature on his Mirror's exhausted, white emaciated face. He was shivering and looked like a corpse as he watched the waves beneath. Just one move and he would fall.

Harry could feel the boy's anxiety, and a cold black feeling of despair. The Mirror wanted death. Death would be his freedom.

Harry turned around and surely enough, he saw Bellatrix and others waiting in the distance. Draco Malfoy then approached the Mirror.

"Harry?" Malfoy said. He reached out, pulling on the Mirror's robes. "Don't do it."

"Fuck you, Malfoy!"

Malfoy pointed his wand at him. "I'll save you again."

"I know you would." The Mirror twitched his head and sighed. "Sit with me."

"Er, as long as you promise not to shove me off."

"I don't have the energy to do that."

Malfoy cautiously sat down. "Here." He pulled off his cloak, placing it around his friend's shoulders.

The Mirror raised his chin, staring stonily at the sea. "Why did you save me?"

"Because I need to make sure you get to Hogwarts. The Dark Lord and Dumbledore both expect you to start sixth year."

"Dumbledore…" he whispered, his glassy green eyes reflecting the waves below.

Draco turned back, so did Harry. The Death Eaters watched on with their black robes fluttering in the wind like grim demons.

"Yeah, Dumbledore's waiting for you."

When Malfoy looked up the Mirror was staring him in the eye. "I'm sick of this. Dying would bring me peace. I wouldn't have to face them again."

"That's a coward's way out. You need to finish this war."

The Mirror scowled. "Why did you really save me?"

Malfoy frowned. "Because you're my friend, you stupid prat!"

At first when he saw it, Harry thought it was a puddle, but beside his feet an oval mirror glittered. He jumped through, landing softly in a shabby backyard.

Harry found his Mirror sitting on a rusty bench, bent over with a hand on his forehead, deep in thought. There was a rabbit hole in front of him and with his outstretched hand, muttered, "Avada Kedavra…"

Nothing happened.

"Avada Kedavra." Leaves outside the hole smoked. He puffed up his chest. "Avada Kedavra!" he said again more confidently. This time the leaves caught on fire.

A boar bolted from the bushes, scaring them.

"Bloody hell, Charlie!"

Mirror Harry jumped onto the bench as the boar circled it, then he attempted to push it over with his tasks.

"Stop," he cried out, trying to keep his balance.

The boar obeyed, but pawed at the dirt angrily. He wasn't a complete Animagus yet. One of his ears was still human looking and his snout looked more like a nose. He changed into human form with a pop.

"What were you up to?" Charlie asked, dusting off his ripped t-shirt. "And why have you packed up all your stuff? Are you leaving again?"

"Nothing's happening—just stop being so nosy!"

The Mirror jumped off the bench, staring at his brother. They both faced each other: a scrawny boy next to his rotund brother.

Charlie looked around and whispered. "You were practicing the Killing Curse. I saw you."

"Why were you spying on me?"

"I wasn't, really. I just happened to see—it doesn't look good you're practicing the Dark Arts when Hogwarts has just closed because of mass murder."

Mirror Harry sighed and sat back down again.

"I think…" His younger brother hesitated. "I think you'll be able to master the curse with your wand, until you've gotten the hang of it—which I hope you won't by the way."

The Mirror slowly pulled out his Yew and Phoenix wand. He swished it towards a small tree, and a jet of green light dazzled the boys, exploding the shrub in front of them.

"Holy shit, Harry!"

Mirror Harry seemed unsure. Then a little brown rabbit poked his head out of its burrow, he pointed his wand at it. "I have mastered it for awhile... but why can't I do it wandless?"

Charlie's eyes widened and he held his breath. Harry could almost hear the boy's frantic thoughts. "Ha—Harry?"

The little brown rabbit was quite oblivious to the danger staring at its twitching nose.

The Mirror's hand shook. "I can't… I can't do this."

"Why do you have to?" Charlie turned the wand away from the rabbit. "This isn't you—"

"Shut up," he lashed out, pushing his brother to the ground. He pointed the wand into his face. "I've killed already."

"Are you going to kill me to-too?" Charlie asked with fear in his voice. "What's happened to you? You used to tell me everything— with Voldemort, with the Horcruxes, with—with everything! You've changed so much ever since Dumbledore lost. Did you really open the Chamber—?"

"I DIDN'T OPEN IT!"

Charlie got up and took a step forward. "Harry, tell me the truth. I won't tell anyone… why have you killed? Are you a Death Eater?"

A swift expression of terror crossed his Mirror's features. Harry had almost missed it.

"Yes," he replied quietly.

Charlie recoiled in horror. "For—for how long?"

"For a year now. The Dark Lord favours me." Mirror Harry lifted his wand again, smirking.

"I can help—"

"You can't. Please leave me alone."

Charlie hesitantly obeyed, leaving his brother. After pocketing his wand, the Mirror picked up a rock and in rage threw it into the rabbit hole.

Another mirror appeared on the Potter's old stone wall. Like the others before it, Harry walked towards it, but he suddenly heard an echo, an anguished scream from somewhere in his Mirror's mind.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

But Harry ignored the plea and went through it.

"Nooooooo—don't—not this one!"

Oddly, the memory took moments to appear. It shimmered in blues, then a bedroom started to materialise.

Charlie sat at his desk reading a book. "Hey Harry," he said without looking up.

Harry turned around and found his Mirror standing at the doorway.

"Would you… er… mind helping me with this Defence essay? I want to get it finished soon. I can't believe its due on my birthday. You'd think Remus would lay off a bit."

"No." His words were barely a whisper.

The Death Eater strode into the room in silence, closing the door carefully behind him. Harry noticed the wand behind his back.

"Harry, wha—?" Charlie said, turning around, the wand was now pointing in his face.

"Why did you tell Dumbledore that I am the Dark Lord's right hand commander?"

"Harry, I-I didn't! I never said anything—"

"Avada Kedavra."

The green light filled the bedroom and Charlie slumped onto his desk, his hazel eyes wide and lifeless.

Behind the bed there was a scream—a little girl was screaming. Jessica had been playing with her toys and Mirror Harry hadn't realised she was there.

The Mirror whipped around, hesitated, and flicked his wand at his sister. A jet of blinding white light hit the girl squarely in the face. She fell back screeching harder, covering her eyes. He jumped over the bed, and he was about to grab the girl when the bedroom door exploded off its hinges.

The scene disappeared into darkness. But Harry did not want to leave as a large mirror appeared, revealing his cell.

So this is the memory… Was that why he killed Charlie, over a secret? What was he going to do with Jessica?

(******)

Under the command of Bellatrix and her infamous gang called the Notorious Thirteen, Severus followed with the throng of armoured Death Eaters. They poured into the Ministry of Magic and into every department.

Death Eaters posing as Hit Wizards positioned outside of the Minister's office had captured Minister Rufus Scrimgeour and Head Auror, Thomas MacCloud. Severus could hear Umbridge screaming somewhere too.

The Aurors guarding the Ministry were dead, their bodies transfigured into various objects and thrown aside. Those lucky enough to be spared were hoodwinked. This had been done in a synchronised attack striking all the on duty Aurors and Hit Wizards at three in the morning. One day before, almost all the senior Aurors and Hit Wizard Floo connections were diverted away from the Ministry. Most were then killed by the Notorious Thirteen.

Those under the command of the Thirteen then Polyjuiced themselves into the Aurors, bypassed a few corrupt security points, and infiltrated the Ministry.

The screams started as they entered the departments. Curses bounced off the walls and the whole place lit up brightly. Papers and memos rained over their heads. Desks, chairs and doors splintered and hurled into the air.

Bellatrix was manic and her smile reeked of ugliness, enjoying this scene of hell. She blasted the statues into rubble, and fired curses at stray witches and wizards, killing them instantly.

The Ministry employees had no wands, and every escape route had been blocked. Screams, pleas, mockery and cold brutal laughter filled the air. It sent a chill up Severus's spine. This was the devil's playground.

"Don't kill me," the employees yelled.

Smoke and flames filtered through every corner. Witches screamed as Death Eaters had their way with them. Others were tortured before being shackled.

Severus watched his comrades pulling employees by their hair towards the atrium. They forced the employees to kneel on the floor. They were bloodied and pale with fear.

The Dark Lord walked amongst them.

"Join me or die," he hissed, his snake-like eyes red like the blood smeared on the atrium walls.

The Dark Lord stepped over the bodies of Scrimgeour, MacCloud, and the Head of Law Enforcement, Cornelius Fudge. He had killed them all, except Scrimgeor, in front of the crowd of frightened workers. Umbridge's head was next to the Minister, though her own body was nowhere to be found. Snape learnt later that Scrimgeour had poisoned himself before his capture and died before the Dark Lord could invade his mind for his secrets.

"Join me and your lives and families will be spared."

More than eight hundred Ministry employees stood up and walked to the other side. Self preservation was such a Slytherin trait, Severus thought. The rest, who didn't join, risked everything. The Dark Lord turned to his servants and said, "do what you want."

And so the blood bath began.

Walking briskly, Severus pulled three witches and a young wizard up nearest him and made sure a silver snake pin on his cloak glowed white. All of them struggled to be freed as curses flung over their heads, and bodies dropped like flies.

"Please don't," a blonde cried. Her makeup was running down her cheek, her lip was split and bleeding. She looked only twenty, and Severus vaguely remembered her as a gossipy Hufflepuff he had taught.

He saw a boy with a small silver snake pin on his cloak too, and motioned him over. He guessed it was Draco Malfoy by his gait. Thank Merlin his parents weren't in sight.

When Severus had been summoned, he had heard the Dark Lord speaking with the Malfoys.

"Lucius, the Department of Mysteries experiments on imprisoned low ranking Death Eaters. There should be about fifty of them housed there. Get my servants out before the destruction of the Ministry."

The boy took hold of two chained wizards and a witch and followed. As Severus continued through the chaos, more Death Eaters followed him with their captives.

Severus walked around Rabastan Lestrange. He was pinning down a wizard with his foot while his partner, a witch with dark red hair and a square jaw cursed him. She too had a snake pin, though it was black and hadn't changed to silver. She chose to stay with Rabastan.

Further up the Ministry corridor where it was quieter, he opened a door forcing the prisoners inside. Then he watched as the other Death Eaters pulled theirs in. Severus locked the door and added the obligatory protection spells.

"Kneel," Draco said in a deeper voice than usual. "NOW!" The twenty prisoners obeyed, scared and trembling.

"Mercy—don't hurt us." The blonde cried harder.

"Kill me now," one wizard stoically spat at Severus's feet.

"QUIET!" Severus paced up and down the group of prisoners. They were in a sterile, grey room, presumedly the security office. On the walls were posters of the most wanted Death Eaters alive. The Thirteen had their own special corner. Severus scowled at the yellowed poster of Harry Potter. Even Grindelwald were amongst them now.

Severus pulled out two Muggle pen Portkeys from his pocket and activated them.

"You will be Portkeyed to a safe location. Disguise yourselves quickly. Don't tell anyone that you worked at the Ministry. Gather your families and get out of the country. Do you all understand?" A few nodded, but the rest were wary. "Don't tell anyone of our identities, for each and every one of you now owes us a life debt!"

They couldn't guess who they were. Only Death Eaters who had received the Dark Mark could see magically through the masks. But when it was safe to do it, Severus and the others simply touched their silvery snake pin, and they became disguised under their masks, and their voices were altered too.

Severus scanned the poised, silent Death Eaters and Conditioned. Miles, Malfoy, the Patil twins were in the room, along with Zabini, Clearwater, Chang and even Bulstrode and Greengrass. They placed random stolen wands into the prisoners' pockets.

"Touch the pens," Severus ordered.

Shakily the twenty employees moved a finger towards the Portkey. The Portkeys glowed blue and in a flash, they disappeared, on the way to the outer boundaries of the Order of the Phoenix.

"What now?" Draco asked.

"Let us handle this." Miles relayed her plan. She and the twins removed a bag from their cloaks, filled with rotting hacked limbs—from bodies of Pritchard's failed experiments and chucked them into the centre of the room. They then quickly burnt everything around them, creating a large pile of ash in the middle of the room. It looked like the prisoners had been burnt to ashes. The room even smelt of burnt flesh.

Severus's Conditioned, Emily Miles, was a plain, brown-haired, blue-eyed witch, with a rather fantastic aptitude at Transfiguration, although abysmal at potion-making. Miles also had limited knowledge in Healing, thanks to her mother. She also got on well with the Patils.

"Momentarily withdraw your disguises and report to your Mentors and cover your pins." Severus ordered. "Then continue saving as many as you can. Destroy the pins once done."

Miles stood by his side. "Tell the other snakes what to do. You don't need Snape's help again. Now go."

They left in a hurry, except Miles. "Thank you, Mentor."

"Do not involve me in your foolish plans again!"

She bowed slightly and rushed out.

Then Severus remembered the note Dumbledore had sent.

Pick a bone in March and doDge a toothache.

Save the golden eggs.

(******)

As the memory faded, Harry looked up and saw his Mirror standing in front of him.

"It's time for you to leave."

"Why did you—?"

"You've seen too much."

"I don't understand, your brother trusted you—kept your secrets. You're hiding something." Then he realised. "You made that memory up."

"GET OUT."

Harry was blasted through his mirror, landing in his own cell. The Mirror followed through, furious.

Without a word he disappeared and Harry suddenly woke, feeling that same dread he felt the first time when his Mirror had entered his mind.

He retched, fell out of bed and shivered on the spot. Memories: his childhood, his years at Hogwarts flashed before him. What was he looking for?

Then the cell door opened. Harry was shaking and confused as looming figures stood over him.

"You can't. Not now." Harry trembled. "Not now!"

"Oh yes I can. You belong to me, Potter, and I will have you whenever I want."

Brodes grinned, pupils always wide with excitement. Though his voice was hoarse and he looked as though he was still recovering from his infection. The Atoner wrapped his hand around Harry's neck.

"Look at this Meryn. He's pretending to be sick."

Harry wasn't thinking straight, he couldn't focus on two different situations; the one happening in his mind and the other happening in front of his very eyes.

Then Brodes threw him onto the floor. Harry saw the stool leg between the slats of his bed.

He shook violently as another memory danced before his eyes: his mother screaming…

"What's the matter, Potter, not fighting us anymore?" Brodes said, crouching down over him.

Harry heard his Mirror whispering in his ear as though he was right next to him. "Do it… do it for us. Do it now! NOW!"

His hands found the sharpened weapon and whipped it out. "NOT NOW!" the Mirror shouted as another random memory flashed before Harry's eyes, and then…

He stabbed the Atoner.

Brodes didn't make a sound, he just let go. Harry gasped as the Atoner looked down at his left side in shock. Slowly, he pulled the stool leg out and started to smile as blood gushed between his fingers.

Meryn jumped over the bed and pinned Harry against the wall. What had he done? He was going to die now.

Somewhere in his mind, he could hear an echo of Mirror Harry's laughter.

"Do you still think I can change, Harry? You are going to die. DIE!"

Fear froze Harry's every thought as his Mirror laughed in triumph.

Brodes chuckled. "You're going to pay for this, Potter!" He looked at the bloodied weapon which he held up for Harry to see.

Harry spat into the Atoner's face. "FUCK YOU!" he roared.

(******)

Save the golden eggs…

Severus walked plucked an old wizard he had spotted trying to kick a Death Eater covered in tattoos. "Dreadford, don't kill this one. I want to hear what secrets from Dumbledore's past he can tell me."

It was Elphias Doge and Severus dragged him along, almost running now to Amelia Bone's office. She was a top ranking official of the Wizengamot, secretly working to save Ministry protesters from jail. She had been Head of Magical Law Enforcement before she resigned, disgusted with the Ministry's regime.

Amelia Bones lay unmoving, face down on the floor of her little office. Severus pulled her over, seeing the dagger in her chest. The Death Eaters had ransacked the place and had left to torture the prisoners in the Atrium.

"Doge, stop fighting me, I'm not going to kill you."

"Lies, all lies," Doge spat as he struggled to escape.

Severus felt Bones's pulse with one hand as he gripped Doge with the other. She was alive, though just.

Amelia Bones opened her eyes, sucking in a rattling breath. She grasped his robes. "We tried. We tried to save our secrets. We couldn't leave. We needed to help. They have all the documents pertaining to Azkaban: The Blue Square Children… Oh God!"

"The Dark Lord knows everything. You risked your lives for nothing. You should've gotten out when word was sent."

She whimpered, holding his hand tight. "Griselda is dead."

Severus told Doge to staunch the wound on Bones's chest, and then jumped over the upturned desks. Griselda Marchbanks body was nearby, her eyes wide, as though she had died staring death in the face.

Severus pulled out a paperweight and placed the object in Bones's hand, making sure Doge touched it.

There was a whimper from inside a cupboard. Severus opened it, finding a witch huddled inside. She screamed as he yanked her out and forced her to touch the paperweight.

They disappeared in a flash of white light.

He slumped back and all of a sudden the Dark Lord's cold voice spoke to them all. "My servants, you have done well. We have the Ministry. Retreat quickly."

As Severus Disapparated from Bones's office, Fiendfyre blew the door off its hinges. He could see the flames billowing and blossoming in the distance like a beautiful yellow flower. The searing hot air brushed Severus's skin, paper and debris rushed past him and something sharp ripped into his arm.

(******)

There was a loud crack in his front yard, and Severus stumbled where he had appeared. He was wounded, but nothing serious and the edge of his cloak was on fire. He limped towards his house, unable to shake his head from what he had witnessed The screams and their pleas loud in his ears.

The Dark Lord's plan to take over the governing body was complete.

Severus stopped short of his kitchen, his memories beginning to fade. He had hoped to drown himself in a bottle of Firewhisky, but found Dumbledore waiting for him instead.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing." He brushed Dumbledore's fingers away. He was panting, sweating, covered in blood and debris, and with an evil that would forever stain his hands.

"Sit down and let me see."

Dumbledore cut the cloth from Severus's left shoulder, peeling it off to reveal the jagged cut that spanned the length of his wrist to just above his elbow. He examined the wound gently.

"It's not serious."

"I could've told you that. Are you here for a debriefing?"

"I want to thank you for saving as many as you could. You have all managed to save over three hundred." Dumbledore picked out a few bottles from his robes, placing them on the kitchen table. "Many of the employees and families are all safe within the Order. You are all heroes."

Severus squirmed. He would never be a hero. As for the Conditioned, they had all suffered in the hands of Death Eaters, but their minds had always remained rebellious.

He knew Miles had formed a secret society mentoring those who wished to act as double agents. Though, Albus calling them heroes would mean nothing to them. These abducted children just want their Mentors dead and the war to end.

"Please tell me Shacklebolt and Tonks are still alive?"

"It was Kingsley's rostered weekend off, and Tonks was pretending to be ill so she could work for the Order." Dumbledore shook his head. "Only one seriously wounded Auror had managed to escape, but it was already too late by the time he got to Shacklebolt this morning. The damage had been done. No other senior Aurors or Hit Wizards survived. We now only have two hundred alive from our preliminary count."

"Why did you abandon the Ministry?" he hissed as Dumbledore prodded and disinfected the wound with a salve.

"It was too late to stop it. Voldemort wanted to get the Ministry before Lord Grindelwald would. I only learnt of the attack minutes before it happened."

"If you don't want a debriefing, what do you really want then?"

"Go to Voldemort," Dumbledore answered. "Azkaban will fall next. We all thought he would attack it first. The Hit Wizards there have the prison in lock down now. Agnes Cotter has reported back to the Order: Harry is seriously wounded. While the Ministry was under attack the boy had been punished for attacking an Atoner."

"Fantastic…" Severus mumbled.

"The Head Atoner will open The Black File, containing the order to kill The Black Square prisoners once Voldemort attacks," Dumbledore said. "Make sure you are the head of the rescue operation. Make sure Bellatrix isn't involved, and bring the boy here to recover."

"He's not—Albus, I can't look after him. Not this one."

"I knew she'd come to you." Dumbledore nodded. "Lily's back at The Burrow tending to the injured now. That'll keep her occupied. I have never seen her act so irrational before."

Severus wanted to tell him about Lily being cursed, but decided not to. "Can you explain why you are keeping this boy locked away? I think I deserve an explanation."

"We need to fool Voldemort into thinking the boy is in Azkaban while we help Harry." Dumbledore sat down. "The power of the Mágos has corrupted him beyond recognition—"

He snorted. "That's an understatement."

"He is in the middle of his Dark Phase and can't pull through. Once Harry moves past this stage, I think we'll see a change. For that reason his Mirror is helping him. I believe this Mirror Harry Potter will save him, and will help him see what he has done, is doing, and his future."

"So he is from another universe. But Albus, I think it's too late for our Potter—"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry is starting to display signs of change while he lays dormant. However, the corruption continues to have a firm grip on him. With his Mirror's help, he is starting to fight his oppression."

"I think you're wasting—the Dark Lord has him hooked around his finger. Now you are condemning an innocent wizard—"

"Severus, Harry will defeat Voldemort—"

"When? In another twenty-eight years?"

"It won't be long." He sighed. "I am afraid… this is my fault. I had asked the boy to become a Death Eater. The experience, the Dark Arts, the Dark power he absorbed has tipped him over the edge."

"You told him to become a Death Eater?"

"Yes after he was invited to join Voldemort."

Severus recoiled. "You should've told me. I could've helped him." Then he cringed when the ointment Dumbledore was dabbing on his arm stung and smoked. "I could've pleaded with my master to become his Mentor."

"Severus you know it is more complicated than that."

"Tell me why did you leave this innocent boy in prison? Grindelwald's break out worked perfectly the first time."

"I didn't know Gellert was planning that. I was furious with him. His idiotic tactic changed the dynamics of the prison and made it more impenetrable. It was too dangerous for us to get him out."

"You've let the harpies out of the cage with Grindelwald."

Dumbledore pinched the top of his nose, deep in thought.

"Why are you concerned about my master finding out if you truly want this boy back under your control?"

"Not my control, Severus. You have it all wrong," Dumbledore corrected. "Voldemort must trust our Harry. Having the boy with Grindelwald would end his close connection. Harry must be tethered to Voldemort's every move and thought. I will tell you how and why our Harry had betrayed his Mirror another time."

"Now you want me to get this Mirror out and to convalesce here," Severus said angrily.

"It is a risk which must be taken for a short time, while I decide what we will do next."

"What's happening to Potter? Where is he?"

"Asleep… It would be dangerous if we woke him now before his change. He will be extremely violent and powerful because his mind and his soul have been violated and intruded upon by outside forces. His power will instinctively react for him. If we wake him, we would lose our chance to turn him."

"Albus, where is he?" Severus asked again.

"With Gellert."

"You've left a powerful young Mage—who you want manipulated—in the hands of a rising Dark Lord?"

"Gellert is working for me."

"But he is going against your wishes." Severus glanced at Dumbledore sideways. He half expected to see Grindelwald jumping into the kitchen yelling, surprise! "Are you sure he is working for you?"

"As sure as I am of you."

He always thought Dumbledore was too trusting.

"Severus, make sure you are the head of the rescue operation—this I must reiterate—it must be you. Bellatrix will realise the difference, and if Voldemort finds out, he will be very interested in keeping the boy. I cannot let that happen. The Mirror has his own war to fight. I must get him back to his own world in one piece."

"One piece? It'll be too late for that. We know what Potter went through in Azkaban—"

"But you will get this boy out."

Severus signed in resignation. "I will go to the Dark Lord as soon as we're done here and volunteer before Bellatrix sinks her claws in."

20. Rescuing Harry

A/N: Trigger warning: references of traumatic injuries.

Rescuing Harry

The firelight from a giant bonfire near the lake, cast an eerie glow through the mist, as Severus swiftly walked through the crowd of Death Eaters on the grounds of Hogwarts. He stepped over sleeping wizards who had drunk themselves into a stupor, swerved around others re-enacting scenes at the Ministry of Magic's attack, and pushed his way through the burgeoning throng upon entering the castle.

He ignored handshakes, pats on the back, and a drink that was pressed into his hands. Severus threw the goblet away, splashing the mead onto the robes of a wizard.

"Hey—you! Look what you did—?" The Death Eater was about to curse him.

"Don't Humphries—that's Severus Snape."

Severus's lip curled. "You'd be wise to listen. Attacking me is a death sentence." He flicked his robes and continued; albeit a little more careful as drunken and adrenalin-rushed, murderous fools were everywhere.

Not too long ago the castle was filled with a thousand impertinent, mediocre, snotty-faced students' eager to learn magic. Now the castle was brimming with thousands of the Dark Lord's servants, and the dungeons were filled with Muggle-born slaves, blood traitors and enemies. There was barely room to breathe.

Within the rowdy castle a few of the surviving Ministry captured were chained to walls. Then Severus noticed a group of fifteen sombre goblins shackled together. Severus would need to investigate their presence here later.

There was a boisterous reception within the Great Hall. Death Eaters were feasting, and stray spells bounced off the walls. They laughed, sang, and they toasted to the Dark Lord. But their master was nowhere to be seen at the head of the hall.

Severus found the Dark Lord's Notorious Thirteen and the rest of the inner circle sitting there, including: the Malfoys, the Lestranges, the Notts, Mulciber and Nesbitt families. Three generations of the Dreadfords were there along with the Cadwalladers, and the German, Ebner family. The Roux's, a reedy French couple sat in the corner, silently watching them all. Then there was Avery, the Goyles, and more.

There was a sudden roar of laughter and Severus saw Bellatrix standing proudly on the table, retelling a story to a bunch of onlookers by her feet. He didn't venture into the Great Hall, he continued on.

Outside the Headmaster's office two Death Eaters stood, masked. The Death Eaters let him pass as only the inner circle had access to the Dark Lord's haunts.

He entered the bare and cold office. All the paintings of the Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses had been slashed. They were nothing but strips of canvas on frames now. The cabinets were mostly empty except for a few objects, like a skull, a golden cup and even a gold galleon. There was a book shelf where he could make out a few titles. A few books involved rituals, and some tomes were about Mages.

The Dark Lord was looking out of the arched, stain glassed window. His wand was in one hand, in his other, there was a goblet with what Severus suspected was filled with unicorn blood.

Dumbledore had been very curious about this. "Perhaps that rumour of him weakening has some merit after all…"

"My Lord." Severus fell to his knees in a gesture of servitude.

"Rise." His eyes glowed red in the firelight. "I didn't see you at the feast. I wanted you by my side."

"Thank you, Master—it would've been an honour. But, I was hurt and needed to tend to my injuries first."

"Yes I see…" His snake-like eyes flicked to Severus's bandaged arm, which was now in a sling. "You will recover soon."

He walked towards him, his long black robes snaking round the desk. The silver embroidery glittered on its hems, and his immaculate dragon hide boots treaded softly on the stone floor.

"Why have you come to see me?"

"My Lord, I ask for the opportunity to head the rescue of The Black Square prisoners. It would be an honour to rescue and house your elite—"

"Yes, MacNair, Yaxley, Crouch, Priscott, Kissane, Mulcahy, Potter, Gomersall and Cousart will need to recuperate after the rescue." The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed. "However, you still have not given me what I want, Severus."

His heart jumped. "I have been trying, but the Potters have moved locations, and are within the protection of a Fidelius Charm."

"You must try harder or I am frightened that you will find yourself in a prickly situation."

"I will not fail you," Severus agreed. He knew he was walking on a tightrope. "Is the girl going to be kept here?"

The Dark Lord looked disdainfully at him. It made him wonder if his master knew about Jessica's fake parentage.

"She will be returned to her mother after I instruct her on what she must do."

"Yes my Lord."

He drunk swiftly from the goblet before continuing, "Severus, when I initiate Death Eaters into my circle, I must have the loyalty of their families as well; I entrust that my servants will instil into their children and spouses, our pure values."

"Of course—"

"Did you know Dumbledore had left the Hogwarts Student Roll behind when the school was evacuated? No doubt he didn't think I'd take over."

"Master, if I may correct you..."

"Go on."

"The Hogwarts Student Roll physically cannot be removed from the school's premises. There are ancient charms protecting its removal or destruction," Severus guardedly replied with a small bow.

"Ahh... yes. You are right. It would only be destroyed if the school is." The Dark Lord eyed Severus warily. "I sometimes read the scrolls, trying to find Muggle-borns who have escaped our patrols."

Severus closed his eyes with dread.

"The roll records students with magical blood. What else does it reveal?"

He opened his eyes. "Their parents, place of birth and blood status."

The Dark Lord nodded. "Someone had cleverly added a spell to hide all this, but I eventually removed it."

His master cocked his head to the side, walking towards him slowly, like a slithering snake.

"So imagine my surprise when I'd come across Jessica Potter's name. She would've been due to come to Hogwarts in a year or so." He smirked. "Lily Potter and… Severus Snape…"

He sat down in shock. Someone was playing games with him. But who?

"You didn't know?"

Lost for words, he shook his head.

"Your loyalty is what I want, Severus."

"I've always been loyal—"

"But you cannot shake your loyalty to Lily Potter. You may have fathered a child with that Mudblood, but your procrastination to bring her to me has me doubting you once more."

He couldn't respond. He noticed he was gripping the arm of the chair so much, his fingers were cramping.

The Dark Lord moved over to the dusty old Sorting Hat. "Who will you choose for the rescue operation?"

Severus looked up. "Miles, Zabini, Draco Malfoy… I'll need Pritchard and the Patil twins—"

"Too young… You'll need experienced Death Eaters. Pritchard will not do, although his Healing powers will be needed. Just make sure he's sober for the rescue. You will need Bellatrix—"

"No, my Lord!" Severus looked up, his voice confident now. "I apologise for my curtness, but I don't want her."

The Dark Lord chuckled. "There is nothing like a healthy bit of competition. The mission is yours, Severus, however I want Dolohov in it, and a few others I will choose. Bellatrix can concentrate on the take over itself. Lucius will be in command this time."

"Thank you—"

"The imprisoned can recover at your residence. The boy—must be guarded day and night."

Severus hesitated. "Is there a problem with Potter, my Lord?"

"I want him kept safe, and perhaps tell him that I want his sister… it may make him more anxious to finish off what he was meant to do in the first place, and therefore, your precious daughter will remain safe."

He was using the girl to test Severus's loyalty and Potter's own.

"We will strike tomorrow at midnight. I have captured some goblins and five Unspeakables that will destroy the magic surrounding Azkaban. Now go to the feast. Enjoy our victory."

(******)

Cell Number 13 was dull in colour, as though Harry's life was ebbing away.

He looked around, sitting on his bed. But it would be a stark contrast to reality. If he was awake, he would be strung up by chains in the middle of the square and left to die.

A mirror materialised on the wall. It rippled as his Mirror stepped out. "I saw you being punished," he said.

"Get away from me," Harry hissed angrily.

The Mirror appeared different. His hair had been cut short, framing his thin, pale face, and there was a lightening bolt scar on his forehead, exact same position and shape.

"You can't afford to kick me out."

"I haven't eaten one of Dumbledore's biscuits, so why are—?"

"Our connection has strengthened to the point we can enter each others minds at will," he answered. "I have to say, they fucked you up good."

"No thanks to you. If you didn't—"

"I didn't control you. Believe it or not, I enjoy watching you make your own blunders without my interference. It also requires a lot of magic, and to be frank, I'm exhausted."

"But you did interfere inside my mind."

Scowling, the Mirror quickly retorted. "You wanted them dead just as much as I do."

"I wasn't thinking clearly. You coaxed me to-"

"You're blaming this sorely on me? That isn't fair at all."

Harry laughed out loud, rather savagely. "Because you're the fucking poster boy of fairness, right?"

"Enough!" Then the Mirror stretched out his hand. "Quickly, take my hand."

"No way."

"TAKE IT!"

Harry reluctantly did so, and suddenly the dull colour of his sight became brighter. He was able to see things more clearly.

"All I can do now is help you survive. You won't live through this otherwise." The Mirror closed his eyes.

"You just tried to have me killed." Harry was gobsmacked. "And now you're helping me? You're crazy!" Harry tried to yank his hand away, but the Mirror'a grip tightened.

"I was hoping you'd die at first, because it would just have been easier if you had just never came. Because of you, my parents now think there's hope for me. Soon, they'll want you to be me. They'll want the perfect Harry to be their son."

Harry felt his body being nourished and strengthened. There was a tingling in his chest, his heart beat growing stronger. He needed more.

After a few moments this time it was the Mirror's turn to yank his hand from Harry's grasp. He had to sit beside him, shaking, looking as though he was on the verge of collapse. He was growing paler by the second. "I'll stay here until they come for you."

Harry gazed at him. "Why do you have a scar like mine?"

The boy touched it, and laughed. "We need to look exactly alike."

"Why?"

"Merlin, you are dumb. They'll be switching us at some point. You do want to go home, don't you?" he laughed weakly. "And Harry, congratulations, you're a fledgling Mage now."

"No I'm not."

"Before you were leeching off my own power, creating equilibrium, but now, you've successfully drained some of my life. This is usually the first sign of being a Mage. I had to check."

"I can't be!"

"You were always one, Harry. You just never had the chance to realise it."

"Look, I don't care what the hell I am right at this moment. I just want to get out of here alive."

His Mirror smirked, looking clammy and feverish now. "A Mage, a Parselmouth and much more… I'd be worried if I were you."

(******)

Azkaban stood threatening with its thick glistening stone walls, ancient and impregnable.

The rescue party of twenty Death Eaters crouched behind a large boulder. While all around the prison, Death Eaters under Lucius's command waited for the signal to attack.

Severus smelt the seawater and stale seaweed, and his fingers were numb to the cold. Waves crashed all around them, spraying them with salty water. If Lucius didn't start the attack soon, he was afraid they might freeze to death.

"Don't pass the barriers unless you want to be fried into oblivion," he told the rescue party.

"Sir," Zabini spoke, "how do we know the Atoners haven't killed—?"

"We don't. We must hurry—no dawdling. You've all seen the map. We Apparate directly outside the door to the square, then our goblins will break the rest of the charms." Severus nodded towards the three glassy-eyed goblins in Mile's control.

There was a red spark overhead. Severus, Dolohov, and Avery peered over the boulder, witnessing the Death Eaters stand, holding tightly onto their Imperioused Goblins and Unspeakables.

The goblins sung their ancient incantations to break the Fortification Charms and other protective spells surrounding the prison.

Jets of curses struck the rocks around them as the Hit Wizards and Aurors within fought back. They heard screams; a few Death Eaters had been hit. But the Aurors would know their fight was in vain.

There was a shiver and a ripple through the wards, and they crashed down. Death Eaters charged in through the passages.

The rescue party Apparated into a dark corridor, deep within. Azkaban was crowded and prisoners were shouting for their freedom. Severus saw no Aurors in the vicinity.

"Alohomora," Dolohov said. Without the goblins magic, the barred, iron doors screeched open. The Prisoners ran for their lives and vanished.

"That's the door to The Black Square." Draco pointed up ahead.

"Quickly now." Severus led the Death Eaters with their goblins. They jumped over a bald Atoner, groaning in pain.

"Stupefy," Zabini spoke.

Miles and Avery held the goblins to the thick iron door. Even from a metre away they felt the strong magic radiating from it. The goblins took precious minutes to work their ancient magic, before they saw a white light appearing around the door, getting brighter until they had to shield their eyes.

They had to fight Aurors in the process. Severus felt a curse cut through his cheek. "SUBDUE THEM!"

They fought back hard.

The ground before them started to tremble and then there was a resounding boom. The ground shook as the dead goblins collapsed.

"INSIDE!" Severus roared. Ten wasted minutes. He prayed the prisoners weren't dead already.

The prisoners within were screaming in terror. Atoners were herding them to their knees in the middle, ready to execute them.

"FIGHT!" a tall bearded Atoner yelled.

The Atoners immediately realised what was happening, rushing out of the cells and began their defence.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Avery yelled. The Atoner fell back with a heavy thud.

Severus ignited a golden shield around the rescue party.

Curses crisscrossed in a myriad of colours. Yaxley struck an Atoner unconscious with his elbow, while Crouch had his chains wound around the neck of his captor. Snape hit one of the Atoners with a quick Slashing Jinx.

"Petrificus Totalis," the Patils screeched. Two Atoners were struck as they tried to escape.

Death Eaters yelped to, falling to the floor when hexes hit their faces.

Severus was exposed, but there was nowhere to hide. He pivoted, scanning the cells and noticed Potter strung up by his wrists. His head was slumped low and his blood dripped into a puddle. A bloodied, wooden weapon lay innocently on the ground by his feet.

Slashing his wand, the chains were undone and Potter crumbled gently to the floor. A curse suddenly singed Severus's neck and he threw himself under the upturned desk in the middle.

A few of the Atoners were hidden in the cells, firing spells at the very exposed Death Eaters. They were trapped and running out of time. Severus raised his hand high and closed it. "NOW!"

The rescue party Disapparated and reappeared within the cells, behind the Atoners, surprising them. "STUPEFY!" The Death Eaters yelled. The Atoners barely had a moment to react. They fell, and the few remaining prisoners huddled in the corners of their cell.

After several minutes, the restrained and semi-conscience Atoners were placed middle of the square. Severus and Pritchard were able to check Potter's condition. They crouched down and suddenly there was a sudden electric charge surrounding the boy.

"Back away," Severus ordered,

Being a Mirror, the power Potter failed to absorb from his counterpart in prison had been halted. Now that power flooded back with the enchantments down, and Severus didn't want to die at the hands of a Mage.

"Potter, we're here to rescue you. You're safe now." He then whispered into the boy's ear without touching him, "Dumbledore sent me."

Potter moaned and the magic evaporated. Severus's conjured a blanket, wrapping it around him as Pritchard stabilised his most urgent injuries.

"Help me!"

It was a faint yell coming from somewhere in the square. Severus looked around, realising the plea was coming from the floor.

"Zabini, get Cousart out of the trapdoor," Yaxley said. The boy flew into action.

The Square was silent now and the Prisoners stood, confused and scared. Some were pressed against the walls in shock. Others, like the imprisoned Death Eaters, and some of the Ministry protesters pointed the apprehended wands into the Atoners faces.

The prisoners had suffered inhumanly at the hands of the Atoners. Now freed, they wanted their revenge. The forty Atoners were sombre; they knew it was the end.

Yaxley stepped forward, twirling around an olive wood wand. "Looks like the tides have turned, right?"

"You don't have the balls!" One Atoner hissed. His long grey hair was tangled around his face. "We are the good—"

"Good?" Yaxley repeated. His voice was scratchy. "You're no better than us!"

"I think we should have our fun before we go." Alana Priscott said to the prisoners, her sunken hazel eyes sparking to life.

Some nodded, while others wanted nothing more than to get out. Lovegood, and a few others Disapparated, but the rest stayed behind with dark looks on their faces.

"Where's Brodes?' Crouch asked, looking at the Atoners. "Still recovering from Potter's attack? We can't let him miss out."

Dolohov and Avery answered as they entered, dragging in the now semi-conscience Atoner. "Found him crawling outside, trying to get in. He had a spare set of cell keys…"

Crouch grinned, licking his brown teeth. "Siggy, pass me that weapon Potter used."

Sigmus Pritchard obliged, throwing the wooden weapon to Barty Crouch Junior.

"What are you doing? We need to leave!" Severus hissed, passing a Portkey of a tin cup to Miles and the Patils. He turned to them. "You know what to do. Take Potter into the spare bedroom, everything will be ready there." They nodded, knelt by Potter's side, and vanished. "Draco, go with them." The boy obeyed.

Brodes regained consciousness and realised his situation. "GET OFF ME!" Then he saw the weapon in Crouch's hands. "NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I AM AN ATONER!"

"We'll be paying you a little midnight visit…" Priscott said.

"NO!"

"Why not?" Another witch stepped forward.

Severus was sure this witch wasn't a Death Eater.

Crouch took her hand gently, and pointed towards cell number 7. "Take him in there, boys. Meryn's there already."

"NO! I WAS GOING TO HELP FREE YOU!" Brodes shouted. His eyes were wide and dark.

"WE MUST LEAVE!" Severus yelled.

Then Azkaban shook on its foundations, and a fine dust fell onto their heads.

Zabini held onto Hagen Cousart and Disapparated. Gaunt and ragged Tobias Kissane and Zara Gomersall followed.

The freed Death Eaters didn't move, including some of the Ministry prisoners. Severus pitied them. Many didn't know what to do now. Their homes were in ruins and their families were in hiding.

Blond-haired and sinewy Richard Mulcahy turned to these inmates. "GO! YOU'RE FREE. THE DARK LORD DOESN'T WANT YOU."

Startled, some of the group vanished, while the rest stayed behind, determined to enact their revenge.

"We'll follow you, Severus," Rookwood said dryly, pointing the wand at the restrained Atoners.

MacNair cracked his knuckles. "Let me play with them for awhile."

There was a murderous look on his face and he thought it was wise not to intervene. A wizard's revenge was a dangerous thing to behold.

Severus Disapparated. He had done all he could. His mission was complete.

(******)

Severus rushed past the living room, where Gomersall and Kissane sat in melancholy. He ran past the kitchen where Zabini was slowly helping the trembling Cousart to a glass of water. He climbed the stairs, flicking his robes aside as he reached the spare bedroom. Draco was waiting outside, pale and morose as he sat.

"Why aren't you helping?"

The boy looked up, grey eyes exhausted. "I've never been great with blood..."

"Make yourself useful then: Go to the kitchen and tell my house elf to start preparing food and drink. Make sure they're all comfortable when the others arrive—and help Zabini with Cousart. He'll need to recover in the other bedroom."

The room was brightly lit and a fire burned in the grate, with a cauldron of boiling water on it. Pritchard washed his hands in a bowl of clean water, his robes taken off and his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. "This will be a long night, Severus. The boy is lucky to be alive."

There was a bottle of Firewhisky half full on the shelf. Pritchard was sweating, and there was a bleeding cut on his bald head.

Severus eyed the bloodied, unmoving mess of a man lying on his back. The sheets beneath were already drenched red. Emily sat beside him washing his body; Padma was removing the hair from his pubic region, while Parvati towered over him, resiting an incantation. A purple glow moved along Potter like a soft wave, gently touching his skin.

After washing his hands, Severus picked up one of the potions, shaking the sediment in them. Next to the bed there was a table filled with more potion bottles and ointments. Bandages and dressings were in a white bundle. A thick tome of Healing Spells was opened to a chapter entitled Life Threatening Injuries.

When Patil's incantation ended, there was a small 'ding' and a piece of paper appeared, fluttering around her feet.

She picked it up and cleared her throat. "Patient is an eighteen year old male, five foot, eight, weighing ninety-five pounds, magical—"

"Yes, yes, go on," Pritchard exasperated as he poured out a glass of alcohol.

"From most serious to least: perforated bowel, causing peritonitis. He has a large tear in his liver with bruising and internal bleeding. Concussion, bruised right kidney, collapsed right lower lung. There are deep lacerations and bruising of genitalia, perineum, rectum with haematoma. Fractures: Skull, left femur and pelvis, coccyx, right collar bone, wrist and bilateral kneecaps, nine ribs…"

As the girl continued detailing the injuries, Pritchard quickly set to work, waving his wand over the Potter.

"…Lacerations posteriorly: back to thighs. He is suffering from shock, blood loss, dehydration and electrolyte imbalances…"

The girl went on with and took a deep breath when she finished.

"I don't understand why he's still alive." Pritchard plucked the parchment from her fingers and read it for himself.

"Are you sure you did the diagnostic charm correctly?" Severus asked, observing her sister's chart of Potter. There were drawings of a man: front, back and laterally, with red pulsing dots fixtured on the diagrams where the injuries were.

"Sir, I have preformed this charm many times and I've never been wrong."

"No potions—spell work only," Pritchard commanded. "Severus—fix his concussion. Patils—lung and kidney. Miles—keep check on his vitals."

Severus began muttering a healing incantation, while Pritchard set to heal his most serious injuries.

With all five of them tending to Potter's various injuries and needs, Severus noticed something very peculiar happening around them. First he heard a bizarre creaking which sounded like something was bending. He looked up, and to his horror saw that the walls of the bedroom were bending inwards, with cracks beginning to appear on the plaster and ceiling.

Emily noticed as well. "What—?"

"PROTECT YOURSELVES!" he yelled.

Potter's body arched upwards, his muscles tensed, fingers flexed, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he let out a ghastly, ear splitting scream.

Suddenly, as though releasing his pent up rage, a ball of power burst forth from him, rippling out in an explosion of energy. The walls sprung back, the portraits on the walls fell and broke. The lamp, the overhead light and the windows all shattered, and the fire blew out.

Feeling as though he had been punched by a giant, Severus flew into the air. Everyone ricocheted backwards, landing violently against the walls of the damaged room.

Severus had enough time to witness the boy falling back against the mattress, before blacking out.

21. The Watch

The Watch

The Order of the Phoenix Headquarters had turned into a refugee camp, and now in the Weasley's paddock, a sea of tents stood around a large marquee which housed the injured Ministry employees.

Many of the refugees had since been inducted into the Order. Others, once recovered, would hide in Europe with their families.

Lily turned away from the window, and padded around her sleeping children. At three in the morning, she decided to tackle the clean laundry that needed to be ironed. She could not get another wink of sleep, constantly thinking of James and her Harrys.

"Mum," Michael croaked, "are you starting your shift now?"

"Soon."

Her shifts in the marquee looking after the injured were long and arduous, but she was learning a lot from the Healers. "Go back to sleep." Lily tucked him in.

She checked on Christopher who was snoring and Jessica who slept with her thumb in her mouth. She brushed her daughter's hair through her fingers, pulling out a loose strand. She'll test it in the morning, always hoping the spell would say James is her father.

Suddenly Lily heard shouting and loud banter coming from downstairs. She listened in, and heard hurried footsteps. Then there was a quiet knock on her bedroom door.

"Lily, dear, you're needed." Molly Weasley sounded frantic.

"I'll be right out," she whispered. Feeling dread, she pulled on her dressing gown and slipped out. "What happened? Is Petunia all right? James?"

Molly looked exhausted and frazzled. "Petunia's fine—this isn't about James—Azkaban's fallen and we have more guests."

"Harry?" Lily gasped.

Molly furrowed her brow. "No dear."

Without responding she made her way into the living room. Not a sound stirred in the crowded room as Kingsley and Bill moved to give them space.

There was a group of ninety children of various ages. They stood straight, their hands behind their backs. The boys all had crew-cuts while the girls had their hair up in braided pigtails. They all wore blue jumpers over grey pyjamas.

Minerva and Poppy were taking down their names, asking questions. None were hurt and were in good health, although some carried awful scars.

Sitting at the other side of the room were Tiberius Ogden, Broderick Bode, Mafalda Hopkirk, Florian Fortescue, and many others, including Gawain Robards—the ex Head of the Auror Department. They were some of the Ministry protesters imprisoned in The Black Square. They were all drinking tea, devoid of emotion. Lily noticed that their soiled grey Azkaban tunics were now stained with blood and ash.

"Who are these children?" Dedalus whispered.

"The Conditioned imprisoned in Azkaban. Atoner Agnes Cotter brought them here," Kingsley answered.

Lily was shocked when she noticed the navy robed Atoner speaking with Dumbledore. Dried blood stuck to her face and she held onto her bloodied shoulder.

The eerie silence was broken when a growing group of grief-stricken parents tried breaking through the guards surrounding the door. Lily was ungraciously shoved forward, into Bill.

"ROBERT?" a woman yelled. "Is Robert here?"

"Ma'am, calm down. We need to identify these children first—"

"THAT'S MY BOY!" The woman pointed to the tall, black teenager in the back row with the other older kids.

The boy craned his head, his brown eyes round like saucers. "M-Mum?"

As though the children had been snapped out of a spell, they started to move, blinking and letting their arms rest by their sides. And just like that, their regimented, stiff movements softened.

"Isabella?" a father called out, scanning the children as he pushed through Arthur Weasley's hold on the door. "Izzie?"

"Daddy!" a ten year old blonde girl squealed. She ran, jumping onto her father.

He hugged her so tight, tears spilled from his eyes. "My little girl…" he sobbed, "I thought you were gone forever."

More parents enquired about their missing children. Lily's heart panged for those whose children weren't in this little group.

She couldn't handle the scene any longer. There was enough of the Order in there to sort things out. She walked outside into a quiet patch of the yard, clutching her chest; all the pent up emotions threatened to let loose in a flood of tears and agony. Harry, where are you?

"Lily Potter?"

Surprised, she looked up, quickly wiping her watery eyes. "I am, yes." She crossed her arms. "Agnes Cotter, I've heard a little about you."

"Dumbledore has spies in every nook and cranny." She held her wounded shoulder tight. Lily knew it needed to be treated straight away.

"Let me check your injury."

Agnes nodded, sitting right next to her, weary and tired. Cotter was a middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair. There was a dark, haunted look about her that Lily felt uneasy with.

"How did you rescue the children?" Lily carefully checked the Atoner's shoulder. A stab wound, she thought. She cleaned the area with a Scourging Charm.

"I was warned of the imminent attack. Auror Pickens and I took the children. As we Portkeyed from The Blue Square, Death Eaters got in. They killed Pickens and a dagger struck me."

There were more shouts in the distance. Lily and Agnes looked around, witnessing more parents pushing their way into The Burrow.

When Lily turned back to the Atoner's injury, the witch was staring at her. "Your son has inherited your eyes."

"Harry…" Her chest tightened. "Is-is he still alive?"

"I don't know, but I know your husband is safe. He was never kept in Azkaban."

Lily dropped her wand. "M-my husband?"

(******)

The Burrow's kitchen was a buzz with hungry witches and wizards. Around the table a few of the Order members were whispering amongst themselves, while the Weasleys discussed the attack in Azkaban. At the edge of the table Emmeline and Tonks were chatting about some cute Aurors they had seen in the Marquee, as they both tackled their bacon.

Lily stirred a cup of strong coffee and squeezed into a free spot at the table, between her sons. She pulled Jessica onto her lap and buttered toast for her. But her mind was elsewhere. She needed to speak with Dumbledore.

"I feel quite lost without The Daily Prophet," Percy mentioned, looking morosely out the window.

"Why? It wa' foo' o' shee' an-way," Ron blurted, with a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"RONALD!" his mother yelled. "Don't talk with your mouth full!"

The heavily compromised and biased newspaper wasn't amiss anyway; it was full of rumour mongering with Ministry propaganda.

Kingsley stood up, and Arthur scraped his chair back. The dark Auror placed a gentle hand on Lily's shoulder.

"Come outside, Dumbledore's waiting for us."

Lily told the boys to make sure Jessica ate, before stepping onto the Weasley's lopsided porch.

Dumbledore sat on the crooked old bench, throwing feed at a scattering of fat hens. "Good morning. Azkaban is no more—"

"What happened to Harry?" Her voice was on the verge of anger. "And where is my husband?"

"Harry is at Severus's, Lily. I have a feeling that you will want to see him, but do not go to Spinners End until I find a suitable disguise for you."

"How long have you known about this Mirror's existence?" Kingsley questioned, he looked torn and just as sour as Lily was. "What about James? What's going on? You owe us an explanation for everything! And no more Confund—"

"I've known about this Mirror boy ever since he set foot into this world."

Lily had to sit down on the porch steps

Kingsley was in shock. "How did you know?"

"As soon as I was told about his unusual scar."

"But you can't have realised that quickly—you're hiding something."

Dumbledore raised his hand. "What I know can compromise the Mirror's existence."

Arthur wiped his sweaty forehead. "The poor boy… Albus, you should've told us, you should've trusted us. Instead you tricked us when we voiced our doubts."

"Perhaps, but the less we knew of him—"

"The less danger he'd be in," Kingsley snorted darkly. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Albus, the boy was put through hell! I have nightmares about it. Now he's recovering in a spy's house, surrounded by Death Eaters. You made us believe he was insane. I think you're the crazy one!"

"Maybe I am. I just want this war over and what I went through at Voldemort's hand, made… made me realise that there is no honourable way to end this," Dumbledore replied softly. He threw more feed at the hens.

"I've put up with your plans for awhile now," Kingsley spurned, "you can't keep ordering people to sacrifice themselves, or kill without a proper explanation."

"I'm sorry I haven't been straightforward—"

"Bit late for that," said Lily.

"Kingsley, given that you knew what the situation was like in Azkaban, with the advanced, gruesome magic Dolores Umbridge had gotten the Unspeakables to install after Harry's first escape," Dumbledore looked coldly at the Auror, "do you honestly believe we could have gotten Harry out?"

Kingsley fell silent for a minute before he answered and Lily waited, holding her breath. "No," he answered softly, deflated. "But we can rectify this. Let us help the boy now."

"No. There are more friends than enemies residing at Severus's. Our priority is to help Lily's son." He wiped his hands clean and looked up.

Kingsley rolled his eyes. "Care to tell us who is really on our side, besides Snape?"

"No—"

"What about James? Don't lie to me again." Lily could've exploded in anger. She really wanted to tell him how she was feeling. How it felt being ripped a part like this.

"He is well, and will return once we switch the boys. He was captured by Grindelwald along with your son. Harry is almost ready. I hope… I hope you will forgive me."

"I'm not the right person you should be asking for forgiveness!"

"Lily, if this Mirror boy had not escaped your basement, things would've panned out differently—"

"Then this boy—this innocent boy ended up in Azkaban and you left him there!" Lily turned around and stormed back into the Burrow.

(******)

Harry woke gasping for air. His heart was threatening to break out of his chest. He scanned his surrounding, blinking away the heavy urge to sleep again, and was determined to see the danger he was in.

Everything seemed different. He lay in a comfortable and warm bed. He wriggled his fingers and toes beneath the crisp and clean bed sheets, though moving them was a mistake and pain shot up and down the lower half of his body.

It didn't look like his dimly lit and damp Azkaban cell. Harry was in a large room with peeling blue wallpaper and a fireplace. The ceiling was yellowed, the plaster work antique and the furniture was just as old.

Harry was in pain, and he felt weak and shaky. Then there was the occasional involuntary painful twitch which coursed through his muscles from repeated use of the Cruciatus Curse. Harry licked his lips thinking that he could do with a drink of water.

Then, looking over to the right he saw a familiar Gryffindor girl, Parvati Patil sleeping in a plush, blood red armchair. Harry was staring so much that when she opened her large brown, almond-shaped eyes she stared right back at him.

"Hi Harry." She flung off her blanket and rubbed her eyes.

"Er, hi—" He coughed, his voice was hoarse and it barely came out at all. Breathing hurt and it was wheezy.

"You're going to be okay." Parvati sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing away his fringe.

He gripped her hand. "Wh-where am I? What happened?" Harry flinched when she pulled out her wand, muttering a spell. "What are you doing?"

"Just a Pain Relieving Charm... We rescued you and you're recovering at Snape's." She smiled as though this was the best possible outcome for him.

No way! No fucking way! He gaped in shock.

"Don't worry, you're really safe. Azkaban fell to the Dark Lord and the Atoners are dead."

Of course he wanted his revenge on the Atoners, but Agnes? No, she can't be dead.

"Everyone we rescued is recovering here."

Harry panicked. He definitely didn't want to be in the close vicinity of Death Eaters. It was bad enough he was stuck in Azkaban, barely able to speak with them. Now freed, things were going to be a lot more different. He tried getting out of bed, but blinding pain hit him.

"Let go of me, Parvati! I'm getting out of here," he gritted through the agony.

"Are you insane?" she yelled, trying to prevent him from falling out of bed.

"What's going on here?"

Harry froze. Looking up he saw Snape near the great ornate wardrobe and he was as menacing as ever.

"Sir, he wants to—"

"Stay away from me!" Harry shouted. He tried untangling the blankets around him, but fell, knocking into the bedside cabinet. Potion bottles cascaded onto his head, and the lamp crashed onto the floor. He cried in anguish, his entire body burning in pain.

Snape and Parvati towered over him. His eyes watered, as he felt them grasp his arms, trying to pull him up, but Harry lashed out.

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU MURDERER!"

Snape pulled away abruptly as though stung. "Murderer?"

"You killed Dumbledore." Harry was still trying to untangle himself.

Parvati looked confused. "Dumbledore's alive, Harry."

"Patil, leave us," Snape commanded. She obeyed. He then crouched down beside Harry. "Potter, I don't know what I did in your world, but Dumbledore is alive here and I would only kill him if he commanded me to do so..."

"Commanded?" Harry asked. "Wait, you know who I am? Does Voldemort know?"

"Nobody here, except I, knows who you really are. Now, lie flat, I will help you back into bed." Twirling his wand, the sheets and blankets flew back onto the mattress.

"I can get up myself."

Snape snorted, as though he had just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.

Cool air rushed over Harry's body. He hovered into the air then gently fell onto the mattress. He felt revulsion that Snape was taking care of him, worse still, that he was trapped in his house.

Harry tried to sit up. But Snape pushed him down hard. "I don't want you anywhere near me."

"I find the situation just as distasteful as you do."

Snape repaired the broken splint tied to Harry's left hip and leg. Then he threw the bed sheets over him, before sitting down.

He gazed at Harry, curiosity now on his face. "This house is filled with recovering Death Eaters and the Conditioned. You must pretend that you are your Mirror. Do you understand?"

"Is Parvati a Death Eater?"

Snape sat back, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "The Patil sisters were conditioned by Pritchard after Hogwarts closed." Snape took a breath. "I assume that you know the dynamics of this world by now."

"I more than know. I've experienced it." Harry grimaced.

"Obviously not the welcoming party you had expected—"

"I didn't come here on purpose!"

Snape's look was nothing less than sceptical. "Now listen to me, you may have some, unwanted visitors in the coming days. Play your part well, Potter. Pretend you know them, be friendly."

"Voldem—?"

"He'll wait until you've fully recovered. However, I do hope you will have been moved by then. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Harry relaxed. With his good arm, he moved the blankets up over his shoulders, feeling a sudden chill.

"Just barely." Snape leaned forward, his beady black eyes staring. "They mutilated you."

Bile crept up his throat. "How long have I been here?"

"Three days. Your fever broke over the night. We've only been able to use spell work and healing incantations due to the nature of your injuries. Once you're able to drink the potions it will speed things up."

"Can't you maybe hurry it up a bit more? I can't stay here."

"Hurry up?" Snape snorted again. "You're just as idiotic as your counterpart. I was curious, hoping for a more intelligent Mage, but obviously you are just as dull—"

"I am not a Mage. And you're the same pathetic bully!"

"Bully?" Snape's said quietly, but Harry saw a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "For the record Potter, you displayed Mage magic when we were tending to your injuries. You destroyed this bedroom."

"It could've been accidental—"

"No," Snape shook his head, "accidental magic is easily repaired. It took me two days and some help to work out how to repair this room. The magic you used was difficult to erase. It was almost Dark—"

"I am not using Dark magic," Harry growled.

"Being a Mage doesn't mean you're Dark—you're in fact invoking the ancient magic we wizards have lost through millenniums of interbreeding and blood dilution. It's considered Dark because the majority of wizards don't have this ability and don't understand it." He took a moment to readjust Harry's pillows. "However, without restraint, it's uncontrollable and destructive, thus our community was happy to have it bred out."

"But what happened to Harry?"

"Mages go through phases of magic—Potter, you need to rest—"

"I want to know more." Harry was determined to stay awake, determined to find out what he was in for. "What are these phases?"

Snape sighed, checking his watch. "The first is important; it's called the Dark phase. As you freely absorb magic and life, this phase distorts the individual's soul so that it can accommodate their growing power and open them up to new potentials. People who become Mages through the Dark Arts tend to become evil. They end up absorbing so much power that they cannot control it and die. After all, the magic is unnatural to their bodies."

"What about a natural born?"

"Natural born Mages going through the phase don't use it to harm others, but may experience inner turmoil, evil ideas... They move on, regaining their normal sense of self."

"My Mirror hasn't moved past it." Harry was now fighting the urge to sleep. "And he's killed people."

"Being a Death Eater made things worse." Snape shot up from his chair, startling Harry. "You need rest now. Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?"

"I'm really thirsty."

Snape handed him a glass of water and watched him drink. "How are you feeling now?"

"All right, I think."

"Good. I'll send up your breakfast soon and we'll see how well you can manage food. You can only have clear liquids for a couple of days because of the damage to your bowel. Until your organs can tolerate the magic, we cannot give you the potions."

Harry blinked, his eyelids growing heavier.

"Do you remember what they did to you?"

He couldn't remember much past stabbing Brodes. "No."

"Do you want me to detail your other injuries?"

"Not now, maybe later." Harry shivered.

"Well, let me just tell you the seriousness of your situation, Potter. Besides the overwhelming injuries and infection, many of your fractures are cursed and could not be healed with wand magic. We will need to give you Skele-gro. Your back injuries are also cursed."

"Yeah, Cotter said something about that before."

"That whip the Atoners used had Skin Memory, always lashing on previous wounds to cause more pain and prolong healing. Your Mirror is still recovering from his."

He grimaced. He had suffered many injuries in his own world, but nothing to the extent what he had experienced in this one.

"You'll be pleased to know you'll still be able to sire children in future. However, for the moment you will not be able to— all nature calls will need to be preformed with charms and sitting will be painful for awhile."

Harry squirmed with embarrassment. He tried to lift the bed sheets to see first hand what the Atoners had done to him, but Snape gripped his hand.

"Do not," he said silkily, "pick at your dressings."

(******)

He must have fallen asleep again, because when he woke, the room was lighted by the lamp and someone was gently sponging him down with warm water.

"Stop—who are you?"

He might've seen her at Hogwarts before. She held the sponge in her hand with a look of fright in her eyes.

"Emily Miles. May I continue or would you like me to stop?" She soaked the sponge hesitantly. "It's my turn to watch you tonight."

"Watch? You're taking shifts? And please stop washing me."

The witch nodded, she quickly wiped his chest with a fluffy towel. He looked down, grimacing at the injuries and decided to stare at the ceiling instead.

But he dozed off again, because when he woke Emily had finished his wash and was dressing his injuries.

She kept giving him furtive glances, and then finally she spoke after pinning the last bandage. "Harry, I'm not really Emily Miles. I've Polyjuiced myself to be her…"

He flicked up an eyebrow, quickly eyeing the door, in case he needed to somehow miraculously escape. "Right… care to tell me who you really are then?"

"Your mother—Lily Potter."

Highly vigilant now, Harry tried to sit up, but this was a disastrous move. Every inch of him felt like knives were stabbing him. He couldn't trust her. "Do you know how dangerous—?"

"Yes I know, sweetheart, but Dumbledore and Severus know. The real Emily has gone home. She will reappear an hour after I leave in the morning."

"Right…" was all he could say. It was really disconcerting seeing his Mirror mother as another person.

There was a long pause before Lily spoke again. "I really wanted to see you. I thought you could do with a friendly face around here."

He was concerned that someone would hear their conversation. She seemed to have read his troubled expression.

"It's ok, Harry, Severus has put up many charms around the room."

"Severus? You're on a first name basis with Snape?"

Lily washed her hands in a bowl of water. "I'm judging by your tone, that you've had a difficult relationship with him in your world—"

"Definitely."

She lightly smiled. "I like to call people by their first names."

"Are you a Healer?"

"No, but I have had training over the years." She poured Harry a glass of orange liquid.

"I want to see you as you, when the Polyjuice wears off," he demanded, as she helped him sip pumpkin juice.

Lily's eyes now flicked hesitantly towards the door. "I will, but only for a minute. But, it'll be another hour before you can see me, and you may be asleep by then."

"Another hour? How long does the Polyjuice Potion last in this world?"

The Emily-Lily grinned. "It was for only an hour, until a witch currently in Australia told us—"

"Hermione Granger?"

"Yes." Lily looked pleased he knew her as well. "Well, last year, while she was at school, a teacher discovered that using kangaroo paws plant extended the life of the potion. They must be the red variety and only two paws added to the mixture increased the hours to three."

"I must remember that when I get back," Harry mused.

He did his best not to fall asleep. After dinner arrived, Lily bolted the door and as she fed him chicken broth, then jelly, he noticed her features change. Her curly brown hair grew longer, redder and thinner. Her features became older, Emily's thin lips turned fuller, and her eyes changed. Harry gasped, seeing her bright, green almond-shaped eyes. How he longed to see his mother close like this, alive.

Lily had a gentle heart-warming smile, which made her eyes glow. "How are you feeling?" Her voice was calming, motherly.

She was serene and comforting, almost like an angel.

"Happy to see you."

Harry had the sudden urge to hug her, but resisted. She was still a complete stranger. She may be his Mirror mum, but what he really yearned for was his dead mother.

"I'm, I'm so sorry about all that's happened—"

"Look, Lily—"

"Call me Mum."

"I wish I could. I wish it so much. But you're not really her and I'm not your son."

She squeezed his hand. "While I didn't give birth to you, you're still my flesh and blood—just from a different place. I'm here for you if you want to talk about anything."

"Lily…" Still, Harry couldn't bring himself to say that word he longed to. "I appreciate your help and everything, but I really don't want to talk about... I just need to concentrate on getting better, avoiding Voldemort and getting back home to finish my war."

"Sweetheart, you have to realise that it's not going to be as easy as you say it's going to be. I think the full impact of your ordeal hasn't hit you yet."

"Maybe…" Harry sighed.

"I've dealt with many tortured and abducted people over the last decade. Many have never come to terms with their suffering. I don't want that to happen to you."

"I've been through a lot in my own world, and I survived without anyone's help."

She looked at him sadly. "But just in case, if you need me, I will be here for you."

Her smile was filled with warmth. Suddenly Harry didn't want her compassion anymore. He knew she was trying all her best to make him feel better, feel like a son. He didn't want that.

"Maybe you should speak to your own son and see what he has to say about his life," he retorted coldly.

A pained expression crossed her face.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her again and fell asleep instantly.

When he woke up, his Mirror mother was nowhere to be found. He looked over to the window and saw a mirror. He groaned in disappointment.

"I really don't want to do this now," he said. The mirror shimmered and with every minute he ignored it, it grew insistently brighter.

Sighing, he got out of bed. He stared into the mirror. He took a deep breath and stepped through, the bright light on the other side put him off guard.

He was in a beautiful room with paintings adorning the green walls. The portraits were of all pale blond wizards and witches, but their expressions were cold and sterile. A silver embossed carriage clock chimed above the large fire grate. The red Persian carpet was full of war scenes. Near the window was a large four poster bed covered with forest green velvet hangings, held back with gold rope. Harry didn't recognise the room, but judging it, he thought he was somewhere in Malfoy's house.

"This is my room," whispered Draco Malfoy as they stealthily entered. "The book shelf is over there." Malfoy pointed.

"Right…" The Mirror walked straight over as though he was on a mission to find something.

Harry followed the absconding fifth year boys, still wearing their Hogwarts robes under their hooded cloaks. His Mirror then gazed at the book titles.

"You won't find it there, Potter," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not stupid to leave it out in the open."

"You sure you're not stupid?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed to slits. He pushed the Mirror out of the way, pulled out an old tattered copy of, Hogwarts: A History, and opened the cover. He flicked through its pages as he strolled casually over to the bed, and then placed it on the bed.

"Unlock!" he commanded. The book immediately flipped over a few hundred pages until a black rectangular hole appeared. Malfoy placed his arm into the abyss and yanked out the black leather bound diary.

"Is this what you're looking for?" Malfoy asked, waving it around.

Impressed, the Mirror snatched the book and scrutinised it. "How do you know it belonged to Tom Riddle?"

"It told me so," Malfoy replied, walking around him, wary of the book he now held. "I wrote in it, and Tom Riddle wrote back."

"When and where did you find it?"

"Christmas of third year, I was bored and I managed to get into this locked room below the drawing room floor, looking for treasures, and I came across it. I didn't think anything of it at first when I saw there was nothing written on its pages... but then I thought, it couldn't just be a normal diary, otherwise Father wouldn't have kept it in that room."

"What did you do after you found it?"

"I just had a bad feeling about it," Malfoy answered with wide eyes. "When the diary wanted me to write anything and everything about myself in it, warning bells rang. Still, I kept it. It's an amazing Dark object. Father would kill me if he found out I've stolen it."

Mirror Harry silently flicked through the empty yellow pages, the book reflecting off his glasses. "Can I have it?"

"Why are you so interested in it?" Malfoy sat casually on his bed, a crease appearing on his brow.

"Do you know who Tom Riddle was and is today?"

"Why should I care?"

"Riddle is Voldemort."

The Slytherin seemed sceptical and Harry noticed that the boy did not flinch at Voldemort's name. "Well, if so, what are you going to do with it? Wave it in front of the Dark Lord's noseless face and tell him you know all of his secrets?"

"I just want to examine it, and yeah, find out stuff."

"Why?" Then realisation dawned on Malfoy's pale, pointed face. "You're not just spying are you? Dumbledore's got you up to something!"

Mirror Harry seemed worried and whispered, "If the Dark Lord ever finds out that this book being in my hands, just—!"

"Don't worry, Potter, I'd tell him that while you visited, you trespassed into that locked room and stole it."

He laughed. "Well, thanks for betraying me in advance."

"You're welcome," Malfoy said. "Listen, remember when you asked me if there are any of the Conditioned rebellious against the Dark Lord? We'll I've done some poking around and, have you heard of that missing girl, Emily Miles?"

"Yeah, hasn't Snape got her holed up somewhere?"

"She's okay… I've seen her around. She's older, and about to face the Cliff. Miles might turn out to be a friendly. I just have this feeling about her."

Mirror Harry nodded. "Keep investigating her—"

Suddenly both boys cringed, grasping the tattooed Dark Mark on their arms.

"Come on, Malfoy, we've been summoned. By the way, don't you think you've over did it with the green?"

"Shut up," Malfoy spat, though a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. The boys disappeared out of the bedroom.

Harry looked behind, and saw that the book shelf had turned into a mirror.

The Gryffindor common room was mostly deserted. Harry had a feeling he needed to go up towards the dorm. Midway up, he heard robes rustling behind a statue of a griffin covered in Christmas decorations.

"Harry where are you?" Hermione said, charging up the stairs. "We need to talk."

"No we don't," the Mirror replied from behind the statue.

"You've been avoiding us for weeks." Hermione crossed her arms, staring at the statue. "Come out."

He squeezed out of his hiding spot and continued up the stairs.

"Harry," Hermione protested.

"Leave me alone."

"No. We want to know what's been happening with you." She stopped, now whispering. "Ever since Dumbledore's made you to track Malfoy's movements you've changed. You're hanging around him more—"

"Jealous—?"

"—Oh grow up," she hissed. "What's happening with the Horcruxes? What else can we help you with?"

"Nothing. Everything is going well."

"Tell me your plans."

The Mirror stepped back. Harry noticed his glasses were gone. "Hermione, you need to give me some space."

"This isn't you. You're changing."

"Of course this is me. It was always me. I'm the one who needs to save everyone."

Hermione shook her head. "Are you sick of this?"

"I am. Now leave me alone."

"Then leave." She huffed. "Just leave. Tell Dumbledore that he can destroy the Horcruxes and you can skip your merry way into a fantasy world filled with happiness."

He laughed. "Hermione—"

"You threatened a fourth year two weeks ago," she said. "He saw you coming in at three in the morning, battered, covered in blood and deep scratches that looked like they were made by a—"

"A yeti."

"Don't lie to me."

"How do you know this anyway?"

"I'm a prefect remember. If anyone sees something dodgy they need to report it. You've avoided us ever since. Every time Ron and I want to speak to you, you disappear. What really happened to you two weeks ago?"

"I said, back off, Mudblood!"

Hermione's eyes widened; now it was her turn to take a step back. "You… you don't mean that, Harry."

"Maybe I do."

"No," she shook her head, "you've handled the Horcruxes for far too long. You're stuck in this god-awful phase, and you're hanging around Draco too much."

"Yeah," he said, his eyes narrowing to slits, "so what."

"Are you… are you a Death Eater?" she whispered.

"No." He simply stared at her, even though Harry could feel the boy wanted to say so much more.

"Harry, please, tell me what's wrong. You know we care about you so much."

And then he seemed to loose his resolve and sat down on a step. "I'm just… I'm in too far deep, Hermione, with this phase. Too far deep. I just feel like the world is spinning out of control, and I can't stop it. I don't want to do it—I have no choice."

"Do what, Harry?"

"I have to do it now—I can't go through it again—I think if I do it, I may tip over. I'm so scared I might like it."

"Scared of liking what? I know something really bad happened to you two weeks ago. Let us help you again, please. Please." She gently touched his shoulder. He yanked her wrist off, and gripped it hard. "Harry, you're hurting me!" she cried.

"Don't talk to me again. This is my fight so back off!"

A mirror flashed on the dorm window and Harry left the memory.

This time Harry was in a dark dilapidated room, with ivy and moss growing on the walls. Half the roof had caved in, and rats skidded past.

"Sir?" Mirror Harry said.

Harry turned around and found his fourteen year old Mirror right beside Dumbledore. The old wizard was looking at a small object he cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes feasted on it. It was a ring with a black stone on it: Peverell's ring.

"Yes?" Dumbledore's fingers trembled as he now held the ring in his fingers, turning it. The light of the boy's ignited wand sparkled against the stone.

"Sir…" Concerned, he placed his hand gently on Dumbledore's wrist. "Don't put it on. There's strong Dark magic on it."

"But I must know."

"Know what? It's a Horcrux. What else is there to find out?"

"I need to know if this is the Resurrection Stone. I need to know…" Dumbledore slowly guided the ring towards his finger.

"The Ressur—? A Deathly Hallow?" Mirror Harry flung the ring away from Dumbledore; it arched gracefully through the air, bouncing off the wall.

"HARRY!" Dumbledore yelled, smacking the Mirror hard across the face. The boy fell back stunned.

"SIR, DON'T—IT'S CURSED!" He yelled as Dumbledore picked the ring up. "ACCIO RING!"

The boy caught the ring effortlessly. Dumbledore growled angrily, and was about to charge at him, but as he placed the ring into his pocket Dumbledore faltered.

He staggered into a broken chair, regaining his senses. "What—? Harry, I'm so sorry—the ring— I had the strong urge— it did not want you to?" He looked at the boy in horror. "Harry, what have I done to you?"

Mirror wiped the blood away from his split lip. "The curse Voldemort put on the ring didn't have the effect on me because I've had nobody I know die. I'm sure there would've been another curse on it if you put it on."

"Thank you. I would've died..." Dumbledore helped him up, healed his cut lip and they left the house together.

Harry turned around and saw another mirror. He took another moment to look at Marvolo Gaunt's abandoned hut. He wondered if Dumbledore had told him about the Horcruxes sooner if he'd still be alive today.

So the ring was definitely a Deathly Hallow. But as Harry blinked at his own reflection in the mirror, it felt as though his curiosity had died in Azkaban. He felt as though he never wanted to investigate anything ever again, yet here he was, in his Mirror's mind investigating.

Through the mirror, Harry found a very pale and ill Mirror Harry holding a broken blue teddy bear. He stood in Dumbledore's office in front of his desk, swaying.

Dumbledore was writing a letter and did not greet him. "You arrived three weeks late for the new term, Harry. Your friends are concerned and Draco had not known your whereabouts—"

"This is the last Horcrux the Dark Lord made." He threw the teddy bear right into the middle of Dumbledore's letter, smearing ink across the page.

"You mean," the headmaster looked up now, peering at the boy above his glasses, "Voldemort."

The Mirror didn't respond as Dumbledore scrutinised the toy.

"So is this Neville Longbottom's teddy bear?"

Mirror Harry nodded, his ratty hair wet against his face. He fell back into the chair, exhausted. "Christmas day, I went to the Longbottom's house to explore—"

"You didn't bother joining your family for Christmas lunch."

"Well I had this feeling, a hunch, and I couldn't wait. I thought since Neville was a part of the prophecy the Dark Lord would've found the connection personal and made a Horcrux when he murdered the family."

"Did you find it there?"

"No, but it sent me on a wild goose chase into Europe."

"Excellent work!"

Dumbledore continued to examine the toy. The Horcrux had already been destroyed. The stuffing hung out of its body and it was singed where it was ripped almost in two. "Where was it? Are you hurt? You don't look well."

Mirror Harry opened his eyes weakly. "The Horcrux was in a vampire's lair."

"Have you been contaminated?"

"No, they were just hungry."

"You need a few nights in the Hospital wing."

The Mirror nodded, and stifled a yawn. "Sir, Peter came to my house on Christmas Eve… He found something that he wants Charlie and I to investigate. Apparently there's some stupid myth it cures werewolf bites, but there's something definitely Dark about it."

Dumbledore frowned. "I can assure you there is no werewolf cure. I must reiterate this to Peter... if he ever decides to answer my call."

"I think there's more to this thing. It looks weird, like a piece of shrivelled something, all black and sharp looking. It's evil. When I touched it—"

"Harry, you must concentrate on the cup, and the locket—"

"But this thing is called—"

"The Horcruxes! The quicker they are destroyed, the quicker this war will end. Everything else means nothing to us."

Harry felt his Mirror's disappointment. "There is a cup in the Lestranges vault in Gringotts. Bellatrix said that Voldemort had entrusted her with it."

"When did she tell you and how did you get that secret? Why has it taken this long for you to tell me?"

"I used… other abilities to coax it out of her…" he replied. His face was devoid of emotion. "I did a detour before coming back to Hogwarts, and got the information out of her."

Dumbledore looked mortified. "Harry—"

"You told me to play my part, and I've used it to my advantage over my Mentor."

Harry was disgusted and Dumbledore seemed concerned now.

"Don't worry about the cup for now. That shall be the last one tackled because of its logistics... try to act only like a loyal puppy, nothing more. And you mustn't worry yourself over werewolf cures."

The boy still looked torn. "Sir—"

"Be careful, Bellatrix likes to play dangerously. One wrong move and she will make you pay dearly."

"Lately, I like living dangerously," he mumbled.

"I've noticed." Dumbledore stared gravely at him, with his quill hovering over the ink well. "I've also noticed the amount of torture you've inflicted as well."

"All part of playing the double agent."

Harry could tell by the scathing look on Dumbledore's face that he was beginning to doubt him.

"I can't kill yet, and I've paid dearly for that."

"Care to elaborate?"

The boy shook his head, and Dumbledore grimaced. "At least tell your friends—"

"NO!"

Dumbledore inhaled deeply and inked the quill again. "While I am pleased that you have failed to kill when you are absent, you are still capturing Muggle-borns. I told you to avoid—"

"You think it's easy? I need to keep doing what Bellatrix has instructed me to do."

"Harry..." Dumbledore interlocked his fingers as he gazed at the boy. "You have been refusing my help, your training with me and our debriefs lately. You are failing to tell me everything you are doing and keeping an unhealthy amount of secrets, not only with me, but your friends also. Let me help you through this phase, through your ordeals. I fear it is taking a stronger hold—"

"I'm fine."

On the closet, that usually housed Dumbledore's Pensieve, a mirror shone. Harry walked through.

He knew it in his heart where one of the Horcruxes was: Gringotts.

In a familiar cave filled with water, Harry stood on a large rock, with a cistern filled with a greenish hue. A goblet lay forgotten on the ground. Malfoy was holding Mirror Harry in his arms; a long gold chain peeked out of his fist. Malfoy had the locket.

"Harry, are you all right? Speak to me." Malfoy shook him hard, his blond hair cascading over his eyes.

His eyes fluttered open. "M'fine… really thirsty."

"We have to get out of this place before I get you water. I've tried to charm it, but the Inferi in the water attacked me."

The boy laughed. Malfoy gasped when he sat up, pushing him away.

"I'm fine. Give me the locket." He looked at it and groaned when he opened the locket easily. He shoved it back into Malfoy's hands. "This was a waste of time!"

"Why do you—?"

Harry looked over Malfoy's shoulder as he pulled out a small yellowed piece of parchment. He read it out for Mirror Harry to hear, then, "Who the hell is R.A.B?"

The Mirror sighed, swaying. "Someone who wanted to screw the Dark Lord over… I just hope he destroyed it."

"But, do you think he or she did?"

"I don't know. I'm still going to look for it."

"Maybe there's another one at Hogwarts," Malfoy said out loud as he helped him to stand.

"Only the diadem was in the Room of Requirement. Believe me, I checked Hogwarts twice in fourth year."

Harry's heart fluttered. YES! He thought.

Mirror Harry pulled himself up with the aid of the cistern. "Draco, I haven't told you this, but the cup is in your Aunt's vault. I know this as a fact."

"I could help you with that. I've been in that vault—!"

"No way!" Mirror Harry yelled, his words echoing in the cave. "I can't put you in further danger. Once the cup is taken he will know, and I will have to fight him after. I'll need to wait for Dumbledore and the Order when they're ready to fight."

The memory was over, and Harry returned back into Snape's spare bedroom.

22. The Mentor

The Mentor

Harry was woken up early that morning by Dimples, Snape's house elf. She carried a tray of food: strained oats, tea and orange juice with shaking hands and deposited it next to the bed. He remembered the night before and hoped to find Lily still in the room and apologise for his behaviour, but she was gone.

Instead, Draco Malfoy had taken over her watch. He sat, flicking through a book, looking bored.

"Morning," the boy greeted.

"Er…"

Dimples propped him up with a few more pillows and began spoon feeding him. He pushed the elf away, determined to feed himself. He felt horrible for doing it and almost apologised to her, but thought Malfoy would've found that shifty.

"It's such a bore watching you sleep," Malfoy remarked. "I mean what are you going to do, thrash around and start cursing people? Although, that would've been entertaining."

"Well I'm glad I didn't," Harry said, drinking his juice. "Were you in the rescue mission?"

"Yeah. My aunt's furious that Snape was picked to head it—By the way, she still hasn't forgiven you."

Harry's insides squirmed, remembering Ashley and Tony.

"You seem different," Malfoy said as he scrutinised Harry.

He looked away quickly. "How so?"

"I don't know… there's just something I can't quite put my finger on… your tone… your mood."

"Mal— Draco, I've just spent a year in prison. I think that's enough to change anyone's perspective in life."

"I s'pose so. But still—"

"Would you mind getting me another blanket?" Harry quickly changed the subject.

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy then scrounged around in a cupboard, finding one.

As he spread the blanket over the bed, Harry had another command. "Can you maybe close the curtains a bit, and another pillow would be great, thanks." Harry loved ordering the Slytherin around. "Oh and a glass of water…"

"Merlin, you're a pain in the ass!" he snipped, as he handed Harry the water.

"I want to sleep now." Harry didn't want to talk anymore. Just speaking with Malfoy on friendly terms was making his skin crawl.

(******)

The Death Eater Healer, Sigmus Pritchard, came the next day, always a bit tipsy from too much drink.

The Healer felt Harry's abdomen. "Any pain?" he slurred.

"Not much." He was worried about being treated by a drunk Healer.

"Good, we'll begin administering the potions. Only one mouthful of each for now, then we will repeat the process every two hours."

Then Snape carefully measured the green thick liquid which Harry remembered as Skele-gro.

"We will see how this pans out. It should heal you—"

"It should?" Harry raised his eyebrows at the Healer.

"The fractures are cursed, Potter. If Skele-gro doesn't work, we'll need to remove the bones. If that doesn't work, then you'll have trouble walking."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Snape whispered as he handed Harry the goblet.

He cringed at the taste of the potion. He remembered well, what regrowing bones felt like and wasn't looking forward to a night of pain.

"How do you feel?" Pritchard asked.

Harry's stomach grumbled and gurgled, then the cramping began. "Er, I don't think I can handle anymore of that stuff." He fought the urge to throw up.

"Stay with him today," Pritchard said to Snape.

Harry was made to drink several others, even though he protested that he didn't want anymore. He drank a Blood Replenishing Potion, Nutrient Potion, Liver Healing Concoction. He drank potions to repair his bowel and internal infection, and so many others, that if there was a potion that would transport him back to his own world, he would've gladly drunk that one too.

He wasn't feeling the best after that. He fell into an uneasy sleep, waking every hour or so, fevered, and shaky. Every two hours he was made to drink the potions again. After repeating the process three times, Harry became very itchy. Then with each hour the itch grew more intense, until he was quite waspish to Snape.

The Death Eater always stared back in silence.

By midnight, Harry couldn't drink anymore of them and the itch was almost as bad as torture. The Patil twins had to cool him down with ice and rubbed a Calming Salve on his skin to reduce the itch.

The next morning, he was stiff and there was a prickling sensation in his broken bones as though needles were piercing him.

Pritchard tested Harry's bones and joints. His knees had been perfectly healed. His pelvis and hip joint weren't as good. Pritchard prodded the bones, bent his left leg up and swivelled it. Harry bit his fist not to scream out. He yelped as Snape made him sit up. In the end, Pritchard wasn't overly enthused with the results.

"A little more Skele-gro. However, since you had an awful reaction to the potions, I won't give them for another two days."

"What about Muggle medicine?" Harry asked innocently. "There are all sorts of drugs that you could—"

"I do not use healing methods that belong to the inferior beings of our species! Muggle techniques are barbaric and primitive." Pritchard looked outraged at such a suggestion.

Harry didn't dare suggest anything after that. He just did what he was told to do.

(******)

Two days later, Pritchard handed him a goblet full of the Skele-gro. "If you're not healed by tomorrow, I will remove the bones."

"Great," Harry responded sarcastically as Snape wandered in.

"Try to eat a little more," Pritchard ordered.

Snape sat down and watched Harry eating his breakfast. He slurped his tea loudly just to annoy the Death Eater who rarely spoke now. It was rather disconcerting. He would rather have Snape snidely remark something than have him staring quietly.

"Would you mind if I ate in peace?" Harry asked as he began eating his porridge.

"Yes. I wouldn't want you to choke to death, after wasting so much time nursing you back to health."

Perhaps he liked Snape better when he didn't talk, after all.

"Lily wants to see you again."

"No. Too dangerous."

"I told her much the same. The Dark Lord wants you guarded day and night. So once you're well enough, I don't want you walking out of this room without me accompanying you."

"Why does Voldemort want me guarded?"

"I think he's worried that you may fall into Grindelwald's hands." His black eyes twinkled in dark amusement.

Harry regarded Snape carefully. "So you're definitely working for Dumbledore."

"I have been for over eighteen years. Keep your Occlumency high at all times, Potter." Snape stood up and gazed out of the window.

"What will happen to me next?"

"We hope to move you to a safer location before or after St Mungo's takeover."

"Why would St Mungo's be taken over?"

Snape turned his head a little before he spoke. "The Dark Lord needs Healers and the hospital under his control."

"Then what?" Harry sipped his tea.

"Gringotts—the second last hurdle."

The logistics of that would be a nightmare, Harry thought. If Voldemort succeeded, then, he would hold the gold at ransom, forcing people to his side.

"Then he'll destroy the Order and Grindelwald," Harry remarked.

Snape nodded. "And finally he can take over the world."

Harry lost interest in his breakfast.

Malfoy kept watch that morning. Zabini took over that afternoon, while that evening, the real Emily Miles came in. She was quiet, demure, never uttering a word, occasionally giving Harry a small scowl, but nothing more.

Then when Harry slept that evening, a mirror appeared. He groaned, growing angry at the connection now.

Walking through, he found himself in Grimmauld Place, following his stealthy fifteen year old Mirror up the stairs. The boy looked around, but the house was dark and empty. His Mirror tiptoed into Regulus Black's room and ransacked the room. He shredded pillows and the mattress apart looking, for what Harry guessed was Slytherin's locket.

"Accio Locket." Nothing zoomed into his outstretched hand.

However, they both heard a rattling noise that seemed to be coming from the up turned chest of drawers. The Mirror found the source of the noise coming from a locked leather box, trapped under the drawers. The lock was broken and inside, the locket was freed, landing in the boy's open palm.

He examined it between his fingers and smiled. "I'm going to destroy you." He shoved it into his pocket and Disapparated.

(******)

Pritchard tested Harry's healing progress. "Much better, Potter. Another goblet of Skele-gro and tomorrow we'll help you stand."

By the next morning, Harry could sit up in bed. His tail bone was healed and his hip and leg almost new. However, he could only sit for a couple of minutes as it caused him excruciating pain, but this was caused by his other injuries. The Atoners didn't restrain themselves torturing him in his most private of places. It was an act of brutal humiliation for defying them. He was so incensed that just thinking about it made the light bulbs in the room explode.

"Watch your magic," Snape said.

With their support, walking was stiff and sore as they helped him into the en suite bathroom, where the Patil twins were running a hot, green bubble bath for him. Padma left with Pritchard and Snape, so Harry sat down on a stool, face to face with Parvati.

"I've added a neat little charm to the water. Your bandages and dressings will vanish in the bath." She tested the water and looked at him expectantly, as the green steam rose around them.

"Right…"

"Well? Are you going to get in?"

"Er…"

"Since when have you been shy around me?" Parvati rolled her eyes.

Defeated, he shrugged off the dressing gown and Parvati helped him in. Harry could smell the dittany, murtlap and aloe vera rising with the steam.

It felt like heaven. His aches drifted away just like the bandages and dressings melting off his body. Harry rested his head against the tub and just dozed off in warmth and serenity.

Then, wrapped up in a towel, he sat in front of the bathroom mirror as Parvati helped shave his sparse, fuzzy beard, cut his hair and clean his nails. She rested her hands gently on his shoulders and smiled.

He checked his bruised and battered reflection and was amazed at the difference. He had put on ten pounds and looked younger without that silly beard and long hair.

Then he stared past his features and his injuries, and just looked at himself. He felt as though he was now staring at a stranger. There was bleakness to him that he could not shake. He scowled and looked away.

By the time he was snuggled up in bed, he felt warm, fresh and lighter without all the bandages and splint tied to his leg. He fell asleep instantly.

At ten o'clock that night, there was a heavy pounding on the bedroom door, waking Harry. Emily opened it and was pushed unceremoniously out of the way. Bellatrix Lestrange walked in with Snape on toe.

Harry's heart almost stopped. Well, this is just fucking fantastic.

"Bella, he's critically ill. He needs rest and careful nursing—"

"Don't you think I know that, Sev?" she snapped.

Snape glanced darkly at Harry. "Then leave at once."

The witch smirked as her hooded eyes narrowed. "No, I won't. Have you forgotten that I'm his Mentor? Leave Severus—you too, Miles."

Snape grimaced. "Don't aggravate his injuries."

Bellatrix slammed the door shut with a casual flick of her hand.

Harry had no weapon, no wand to protect himself with, just his unwanted, burgeoning Mage ability.

The bedroom was bathed in silence. She stood near the doorway glaring at him, breathing deeply, her wand held in her hand. Her black robes, tight around her figure were cinched at her waist with a silver skull. She walked slowly around the bed, never once taking her eyes off him, nor did Harry take his eyes off her. He was like a trapped mouse and she was the cat ready to pounce.

"Evening, Potter." Fingers grazed the blankets as she moved to Harry's side. "It's been a while since you ran off with my little ones."

She ripped his bed sheets away and straddled Harry before he had the chance to move away. The bed dipped under her weight and his hip pulsed in pain.

"Get off!" He cringed, grasping her arms in a futile effort to push her off. But she was stronger, healthier and very determined to torment him.

"What the hell have you done with the Pettigrew children?" She jabbed her wand under his chin.

"I got them far away from you!"

"WHERE?"

"They're in a Muggle institution—under different appearances—waiting for me to get them and continue their conditioning," he lied.

"Why did you want them, Potter?"

"To piss you off."

She smirked as her wand suddenly cut into his neck. "You've done that perfectly well. You're lucky I'm not allowed to execute you."

Her cold eyes shone bright with excitement as Harry desperately tried to squirm away from her. But she merely licked her lips as her long nails scraped down his chest, stinging his undressed wounds. "All skin and bones Potter… regretfully bare… I do like my men with chest hair."

"Well, I apologise for not fitting your criteria!" Harry growled. He gripped her wrists, but it failed to stop her progressing downwards.

Alarmed, he tried to push her off as her fingers went further down. Bellatrix leaned down, her long black hair tickling Harry's cheek.

He stared into her soulless grey eyes. "Get off me."

"I always like a challenge. After all, you thought I was when you needed my secret."

"I said. Get. Off."

"I heard you the first time, but what makes you think I will?"

"I'll fight you—"

"In your condition?" She laughed. "You owe me, Potter. You stole my children and my secret. I want to see you beg for your life in the Great Hall…"

Her hand slithered underneath his pyjama bottoms. Harry yelled in agony. But she clapped her other hand over his mouth and heard her whispering.

"Don't scream now, otherwise Severus will wonder what we're up to."

"Fuck you!" he spat. He tried to kick her off with his good leg.

"Well that's what we intend to do!" Bellatrix chuckled. "Although, considering the nature of your injuries, I'm not sure you'll be able to, ah, preform."

Then she tried to kiss him. Harry attempted to push her away, but he was still very weak. Pathetic, he thought lazily. He turned his head away from her.

Bellatrix pulled away, straight backed. She looked down at him with a furrow between her brows. "What's gotten into you?"

"I don't want you!"

"Really now?" She leaned down again, breathing shallowly as she looked straight into his eyes. "Do you prefer it like a dog now? I can do that to you—"

"GET OFF!" Harry roared and a ripple of his magic jolted the charms surrounding the room, removing some.

"Is everything all right in there?" Yaxley called from outside the door. He must have been guarding the bedroom.

"HEL—!"

Bellatrix's hand clapped over his mouth again.

"Everything's perfectly peachy in here!" she shrilled loudly. Then she whispered, "Perhaps you want to be a man again…" She let go of him, raising her hands to begin unbuttoning her dress. "Go on, dear, be a man."

Using every ounce of energy he could gather, he grabbed the Death Eater and flipped her over, so that now he was the one pinning her to the bed. Bellatrix's long black hair tangled around, masking her face like a black veil. She laughed, resting her head on the pillow. Harry held both her wrists above her head.

He looked down at her, trying to ignore the pain he felt in his hip. He scraped the hair away from her face. She stopped laughing, now breathing hard, preparing for what he'd do next. What the hell was he doing?

"Kiss me," she purred.

"'Play your part well…"

"Kiss me."

This is going to make me sick. He obeyed, kissing her hard and brutal, feeling her fingernails gouging the back of his neck in response.

Pulling away for a mere second, he heard her say, "good."

And Harry had to admit it did feel good, exciting and devilish. He felt in control again.

What the hell? He pulled back in shock, suddenly disgusted with himself.

Bellatrix looked disappointed. "Always a tease," she exasperated.

Sirius falling gracefully through the veil… the Pettigrew children… the Longbottoms… Ginny…

Harry rested both hands against the sides of her head, like a vice. It felt so right.

"Potter, what are you—?"

Bellatrix screamed and he felt her power rushing into his veins like water from a burst drain. He felt her exhilaration as she tortured and murdered people. Her power was black... Dark… Harry felt her passion and fervour for the purebloods. He felt her excitement at the thought of using her knife and the blood that stained it…

"STOP IT!" She thrashed about, trying to yank his hands away—to curse him. Harry flung her wand across the room with just a thought.

"POTTER—NO!" someone yelled.

Harry was thrown off the bed and hit the floor hard, and yelled as blinding pain flared in his hip again. Looking up, Snape was glaring at him, anger and concern showing on his face. He was checking over Bellatrix, who now was very still. Her arm hung limply over the side of the bed.

Behind Snape, Yaxley, who usually had very blunt features and never showed emotions during their time in The Black Square was roaring with laughter, so much so, he had to sit down to regather his energy.

Harry panted, still feeling the after-effects of the Bellatrix's power tingling in his body. "Is she dead?" His heart was pounding, and his body was covered in a cold sweat. He tried to sit up, but he found it a struggle.

"No." Snape shook his head. "Fergus, take Bella downstairs, put her on the couch and call in Pritchard."

Yaxley picked the witch up, laying her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He looked over to Harry and gave him a hearty wink before he left the bedroom, chuckling to himself.

"Potter."

Harry jumped at the voice. He was feeling very tired and sleepy. When he was pulled up he swayed on the spot and pain seared in his hip. Then his leg gave way and the world around him swirled precariously.

Harry retched.

"What you did has jeopardised your existence here. Attacking your Mentor is a serious crime."

"She's not my Mentor!"

Harry slumped onto Snape and his world turned black.

23. The Switch

The Switch

After bolting the bedroom door shut, Severus rummaged through a drawer finding parchment, and quickly briefed Dumbledore on what had occurred.

Creating a circular pattern with his wand, the note in the palm of his hand was bathed in a white fire. It began disintegrating with its ashes floating above him, vanishing.

Severus's attention turned to Potter laying limply in bed. There would be severe consequences for the real Potter if this wasn't smoothed over.

There was a crack in the air. From the corner of his eye he saw a burning note flutter down. He swept it off the floor and read it.

Prepare the Floo.

Hidden in a locked drawer was a box of purple Floo powder. He threw a handful of it into the fire and waited expectantly, wondering who would come out of the grate.

Severus saw a man materialise when the purple flames came to life. He narrowed his eyes and curled his hands into tight fists. He couldn't believe Dumbledore had sent him.

"So stubborn, even death can't claim you," Severus scowled, eye to eye with James Potter. The wizard brushed the ashes off his cloak.

He was a foot taller than Potter, and it felt good to be staring down at the man he had hated since he was eleven. Granted, the wizard who had been missing looked like a changed man, thinner, wearier and perhaps even wiser.

"This isn't the time to be firing insults, Snivellus."

"Just get the Mirror out."

Potter gasped seeing his Mirror son. He bumped past Severus and knelt down by the bed. "Harry, can you hear me?" he whispered.

Purple flames roared high once more. From within the fire, Severus saw a bundle of blankets covering a still body.

"Potter, stop dawdling—go and let me deal with your son." Severus hovered the body to the bed, as James hovered his Mirror son off the bed.

Severus started removing the boy's clothes.

"Snape, what are you doing with my son?"

"I will need to place a strong Mirage Charm, and perhaps reopen some of his old wounds—his injuries will need to match his Mirror's—"

"You can't be serious?" Potter asked grimly.

The Mirror boy groaned in his arms, making him reassess the situation. Severus could almost hear the rusty cogs of James Potter's mind turning: should he worry about his real son or the Mirror?

Severus sighed, thinking that some people were just so stupid they ought to be put out of their misery. "Healer Pritchard will know something was amiss. He has detailed all of the Mirror's injuries. He'll be alarmed if he finds nothing but scars, and wounds in the wrong places."

"This is insane—"

"Stop talking and get out of my house!"

(******)

Harry slowly woke from his sleep and heard the soft clinking of glass. Potion bottles, he thought. He could also hear the rumble of thunder outside, threatening and foreboding. He lay straight on his right side and someone was gently dabbing a soothing substance on the lacerations on his back.

Harry opened his eyes, slowly taking in his surroundings. He noticed the bedroom was different. It was smaller and more homely than Snape's. The walls were painted in yellow and posters of Holly Harper Quidditch team lined the wall next to the window. Ginny's favourite team he thought vaguely.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, making the person behind him stop tending to his wounds. There was a rustling of robes and a moment later he saw a familiar face swim into his line of sight.

"Potter," Agnes Cotter whispered.

It took a moment for Harry to realise this and when he did he shot up, confused and scared. White, blinding pain hit him with full force.

"You're dead! Azkaban? I'm still in Azkaban!" He fell back into bed, writhing in agony. His chest tightened and he felt sick all of a sudden. Please, please don't let me be back there.

"It's all right. You're not there." Her hands touched his shoulders, squeezing them in reassurance.

"But—?"

"Look at me—look around you. I am not wearing my Atoner robes and you're not in your cell."

Harry took in a deep breath, calming down. Cotter was wearing purple robes, fastened to her waist with a gold chain, and she wore a black high collared dress underneath.

There were two beds in the room. The other had a blue and white polka dot quilt over it, while his own was its yellow version. It looked more like it belonged to two teenagers.

"Where am I?"

"Remus Lupin's. They moved you from Snape's house after the, ah, little incident. I think this is where they'll keep you until you're well enough to go home."

"But what about—that would ruin—Dumbledore's plan—?"

"They've done the switch." She sat on the edge of the bed.

"So my Mirror's at Snape's now?"

She nodded. "Now, I've examined you, and I must say the Death Eaters have looked after you well. There isn't much I wouldn't have done differently, than perhaps, stall the administration of the potions a little longer. My observations tell me your body is struggling with the all magic and potions you have been given."

"I feel really sick and itchy after taking them."

"I'll need to remove your left hip and femur… you've refractured them."

"What curse did the Atoner use?"

"There's several bone breaking curses. Yours would've always been unstable due to Osxterminata Curse Meryn liked to use. I'll give you the Skele-gro in conjunction with the Osregeneratem spell."

"Will it work?"

"Perfectly, but you'll need a cane for a few weeks."

"How come that Death Eater Healer didn't use that Osregena-whatever-it's-called spell?"

"Pritchard didn't know. Generally speaking, when there is no knowledge of the curses involved, a Finite Incantatem is used. Sometimes the spell works, and sometimes it only lessens the effects of the curse. He did the best under the circumstances."

Harry knew he was in capable hands, and he much rather have the Atoner look after him than a Death Eater.

"I will forego giving you the other potions for now. I'll be using a few Muggle remedies; they would be much less volatile on your body."

"Pritchard didn't want to use Muggle medicine. He felt it was beneath him." Harry yawned. Sleep tugged at his eyes again. He grimaced. Now he wanted to know more about what had happened to Bellatrix. How the switch was made and if his Mirror was now awake. "James… I remember. I heard James—"

"You need to rest now. Absorbing Bellatrix's power has affected you. I'll wake you when you need to drink the Skele-gro."

There was a knock at the door and a concerned voice. Harry saw Remus Lupin's figure swim in front of him, while James Potter stood hesitantly at the doorway. He wanted to speak with them, but Harry couldn't stay awake any longer.

(******)

"PLEASE, DON'T—DO WHATEVER YOU CAN—I don't want my wand arm taken off. It's getting better."

Lily closed the white curtains, so that the other injured could not see, and silenced the area.

"Shhhh…" she stroked back the injured Ministry worker's hair, but the wizard struggled against her. Two Healers: Fiona Marcs and George Oaks prepared to amputate the gangrenous limb.

"You can't." The wizard's blue eyes pleaded. He was shivering and burning with a fever. "It's getting better. YOU ALL SAID IT'LL GET BETTER."

"Thomas, it's going to be all right—"

"MAGIC IS SUPPOSED TO FIX IT ALL!" The wizard thrashed around, trying to escape them.

Lily watched sadly as Healer Oaks forced a sleeping draught down the wizard's throat. He fell back in a calmer state and was asleep within seconds.

"Right," Healer Oaks huffed, pulling his robe sleeves back up, "let's get rid of this arm."

Lily sterilised the entire arm and chest with an antiseptic salve that reminded her of Muggle hospitals and stood back. "Now watch what we do, Lily. This is good experience for you."

She was so tired, so sick of looking after the injured and the traumatised.

"Lily," Kingsley said, pulling away the curtain. "You have a visitor."

"Go on, dear, we'll be all right now without you," Healer Marcs urged.

She removed her apron and cleaned up. Kingsley waited patiently behind the curtain and when he saw her again, he was beaming.

"Who is it?" she asked. She hadn't seen Kingsley so happy since the birth of his daughter, Clara, who was now growing up in Canada with her mother. "Why are you so happy? Have you been made Minister?"

"I'd rather fight." He shook his head. "It'll be either Amelia Bones or Gawain Robards. But I think, personally, Robards isn't in the right mental state to be taking on that responsibility."

"I agree. He's just spent three years in prison," said Lily, walking out of the marquee into the chilly night. She heard the rumble of a storm brewing in the distance.

"But his experience and knowledge will be invaluable. Even if he doesn't become Minister, he'll be Senior Undersecretary for sure."

"Amelia is much better suited, and she's got better communication and people skills," Lily added.

"I agree. She is just, fair and compassionate. We need someone who can help build alliances and an army to defeat Voldemort, then rebuild our world after. She's perfect for the position."

Her heart fluttered as Kingsley steered her down a long winding path towards the back of The Burrow, where Arthur was seated with his wife and son, Bill, and standing near them was—she stopped, lost for words.

"Hi," James spoke. A huge smile was on his face.

He looked thinner than the last time Lily saw him and he wore the blackest of robes. On his right robe sleeve was a large gold embroidered Grindelwald symbol.

Lightening lit up the sky, the white blue light flashed around them, but she couldn't move. Was her husband really in front of her?

Kingsley and Arthur smiled back, on the verge of laughter at her astonished and shocked expression.

"Hi, back?"

James tentatively stepped forward. This was enough to break Lily out of her stupefied trance. She ran, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing hard. They kissed each other several times before they pulled apart to stare at each other long and hard. She had to touch his stubbly cheek just to make sure he wasn't a ghost.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, nose nuzzling her jaw line. Lily let out a whimper. She was not going to let her tears fall. "I'm so sorry… God, I'm so sorry I couldn't save Sirius."

"It wasn't your fault." Lily rubbed his shoulder. She knew he was hurting.

"Godric returns," Kingsley said with a lopsided smile.

"Oh really?" James responded, blinking away tears. "So Godric was my codename? I was hoping for something a little more grandiose."

"Good to see you're still full of it."

Lily remembered that warning letter on Dumbledore's desk: Chickens are spooked… can't put out the flames… Godric safe with the rising sun.

"I never thought you were dead," she said. "Where were you? Are you okay?"

"I was with Grindelwald. Look, it's a long story—I haven't got the time to tell it. I need to go again. I just need to retrieve a couple of things and some errands."

"James!" Lily's joy turned to anger. "You can't just go again. I need you. Your children need you."

"I know, but, I can see an end to this war. It will be soon, and I need to help as much as I can. I just wish… I wish Sirius was with me." He sighed sadly.

"What about the boy?" Arthur asked.

"It revolves around him."

"Which one?" Kingsley said darkly.

"Well," James scratched his head, "ours of course. Look, I don't forgive my son—I still can't fathom that he'll ever do good again, but he is still my son…" Then he whispered into Lily's ear. "I was taking care of him at Grindelwald's HQ. He forced him into a deep sleep."

She was glad that James had been with him. Lily burst into tears because of the change that's happened to James. She had always known deep down that James still loved their son.

"Oh God, Lily, I'm sorry—"

She hugged him. "Just shut up," she sobbed, vaguely happier than before.

"What about the other?" Arthur asked.

There was a cluttering of buckets behind the darkness of the shed, and all members of the Order pulled out their wands, pointing them towards the darkness.

"Show yourself!" Kingsley boomed with authority.

James ripped himself from Lily's arms and followed Kingsley.

"It's just me, Dad."

"Michael," Lily yelled.

Their son stumbled over another bucket as he came out of his hiding place.

"How did—?" Bill said, pointing at the boy.

"Sorry," Michael blushed. "I accidentally overheard you and Mr Weasley talking about my dad about this meeting tonight. I wanted to see what it was about."

Lily crossed her arms, furious. How much had he heard and discerned? "This is a private discussion between Order members."

"WHAT ABOUT US?" her son flared. "We've been in the dark about Dad, and now he's back you weren't gonna' tell us? Dad is gonna' leave again, just like that."

James grasped his son's shoulders. "I'm sorry about all that's happened. It isn't right that you kids didn't know where I was, but at the start I was a prisoner myself."

"Is that what you tell yourself?"

"This is war and every little detail, every word said and every action made is a matter of life or death. You're still too young to—"

"NO!" He pulled away from his father. "We've got a right to know what's going on too! What's going on with Harry? Who's this other kid? And why were you with Grindelwald?"

James caught Lily's eye. They were worried about all their son had heard. She knew Michael was prone to irrational actions.

"Michael," he said sternly, "Harry is with Death Eaters. I was Grindelwald's prisoner, and he had captured a boy. I was looking out for him and he reminded me so much of your brother."

Michael bit his lip, hazel eyes twinkling in the wand light. "When are you going to stop lying and start trusting us?" He bolted

(******)

Thunder clapped loudly. Harry yelped and jerked awake, tangled in his sheets. His heart was pounding when the lamp was switched on. His left leg and hip felt bizarre as though it was made of jelly. He then noticed a splint had been attached to his limb.

"Harry," Remus said softly, hand tapping his arm gently. "You were having a nightmare."

He looked passed Remus, cringing from the pain. He saw that the other bed had been slept in. The werewolf was watching over him.

"What time is it?" He tried to sit up. "Can you tell me more about the switch? Is James still here? The Atoner?"

"It's four in the morning—hang on, Harry, you can't get up—your hip."

Then he remembered Cotter had removed the bones and lay still.

"Snape's made up a story that the absorption of power had caused his unconscious state. Agnes will return in the morning and James will be back soon."

Remus covered Harry's clammy shoulders with the quilt. The prickly sensation in his hip and thigh was growing more painful and he now fought the urge to scratch everywhere.

"Yeah but, how was the switch made?"

He was told everything, then Remus clasped Harry's hand tight, his other hand felt his burning forehead. A worried expression flitted across his lined face. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm really thirsty… So James is safe now, right?"

He nodded, as he gently held Harry's head up, helping him to a glass of water.

Remus placed the empty glass on the bedside cabinet next to a large picture frame. Harry casually contemplated the portrait of a pretty woman with long brown hair, and dark grey eyes.

"Who is she?"

"Was…" The werewolf's gaze lingered on the woman before he spoke. "Anne... she was my wife. She was killed four years ago." He cleared his throat and dusted the portrait lovingly. "This is my children's room: Tristan and Bethany. They're my cheeky twelve year olds."

"Er, where are they?"

They live with their grandmother in Belgium and attend Beauxbatons. I wouldn't trust them to be here alone with me with my affliction."

"But—"

"Their grandmother insisted, and I wanted them safe from the war."

Harry lay comfortably, surveying the wizard closely. "How did you meet Anne?"

"Lily introduced me to her. Anne was a travelling Healer interested in studying werewolves. As most of our population were offered rewards to join Voldemort, she came here. We became close after awhile and we fell in love."

"Last year, in my world, you married Tonks. Their baby would be a few months old by now."

"Tonks? Auror Nymphadora Tonks?" He laughed, scratching the back of his head in response. "Hmmm, interesting match."

"How did, er, Anne die?"

"From a Death Eater attack in a Muggle part of London. She'd been out shopping with friends and they…" He sighed and Harry didn't want to prod anymore in the man's life. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah." His eyelids were becoming heavy again. He looked around the room as lightening lit up the low ceiling and furniture. On the other side of the room, which must have been Tristan's, he saw Muggle posters of Manchester United and a little television.

"This room has a lovely view of the Dales, well, when it's not covered by the Dementor mist, that is." Remus smiled. "I sometimes come in here when I think of Anne… she loved reading to the children every night." He stared blankly out of the window. "She used to gaze out of this window every morning and the sunlight would catch on her hair as she hummed to herself." He cleared his throat and turned to him, like he suddenly realised Harry was in the room.

"I hope you'll be comfortable here. If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask."

Harry could tell the werewolf really missed his children and deeply loved Anne. There was a look of loneliness in his eyes.

"Thank you. I really appreciate that." Harry yawned. "It's nice to see you, without you thinking I'm a Death Eater and all."

"Likewise," he replied, dolefully. "I apologise for not believing you when we first met, and then Dumbledore Confunded many of us."

Harry's anger flared up at the mention of Dumbledore actions. Remus quickly changed subjects after seeing the look on his face.

"Er, how was your treatment at Snape's?"

"It was surprisingly good. I doubt Death Eaters will take care of me like that ever again."

Remus's expression darkened. "I heard what happened between you and Bellatrix. That must have been terrifying."

A feeling of hot guilt suddenly took hold of Harry. He'd never forgive himself for kissing the witch. "It's something I'd rather forget. I can't believe my Mirror would even go that far."

"She's his mentor, Harry. Sometimes people can't control their urges. Besides, Bellatrix would've had her own motives—"

"No it was Harry. He manipulated her for information about one of…" Shit!

"One of what?"

Harry berated himself.

"Please, Harry, one of what?" Remus repeated. "You have to understand that we know very little about your Mirror before he killed his brother. There are lots of rumours and secrets, but if you can shed light about what he was going through, it can help us help him."

"You still care about him?"

"I have never stopped caring, but I want to understand why he's done terrible things."

Harry took a deep breath and decided to reveal a little bit of the truth.

"Beg your pardon? A Horcrux?" Remus seemed shocked.

"Horcruxes," Harry corrected.

"There's more than one?"

"Er—I—I can't say anymore."

Remus's brow remained furrowed for a few minutes.

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked, trying to ignore the ever growing pain in his hip.

"I'm starting to think there's more to him than just a crazed murdering Death Eater who joined Voldemort at the tender age of eleven."

"Eleven?" Harry questioned darkly. "He joined Voldemort when he was fifteen, after he was invited to join. He refused, but Dumbledore urged him to take the offer."

Remus paled even more. "How do you know all this?"

"Through a unique connection Mirrors have." Then he remembered the most recent memories. "Remus, did Peter ever talk to you about werewolf cures?"

"A few times." He rubbed his chin, thinking.

"Anything black and shrivelled looking?"

"Yes." He raised an eyebrow. "It was a ridiculous looking thing he had found in Estonia—didn't know what the hell it was and you weren't allowed to touch it, as it sent people into psychotic episodes that eventually killed them. Peter was told by a warlock that if he boiled it with the blood of a pregnant yew, the elixir would cure his disease. I knew he had been fooled, but it didn't stop Peter from trying."

"Did it work?"

Remus scoffed. "No, it didn't, otherwise I'd have been first in line to buy the cure. I know one thing for sure, Harry, that Obsidian Stitch thing was a complete farce."

Harry gasped. The Stitch, the Stitch, find the Stitch… A Stitch in time saves nine...

"Harry, are you all right?" Remus asked, worried again.

"I'm fine."

If it wasn't something werewolves would benefit, there must have been something else the Stitch could do.

But what had happened to it, if it had once been in his Mirror's possession?

"I'll let you rest now." The werewolf yawned before plopping himself onto the other bed. "Listen, how do you feel about Lily and James visiting you?"

"Not at the moment. I don't want anyone coming to see me."

"Even Dumbledore?"

"Especially Dumbledore."

"I thought you'd say that," Remus said quietly.

Thunder boomed around the house and the rain finally started to pour.

24. Visitors in the Darkness

Visitors in the Darkness

"All healed," Cotter said after examining Harry's hip.

He let out a little sigh of relief.

The raging storm the night before had helped clear up some of the Dementor mist. Harry saw the vibrant green hills in the distance and the dark, but foreboding clouds that lingered in the sky over the Yorkshire Dales.

After checking the progress of Harry's other injuries, she helped him into a pair of pyjamas and supported him as he walked around the room.

"I'll get you a cane to walk with," she said, steering him into the armchair.

"When can I go home?"

"In a few weeks, but if you want to fight your own war, I suggest you stay a bit longer."

"I can't stay that long." Harry had started having terrible dreams about his situation back home.

"I need you to put on twenty-five pounds, walking well, and having normal bodily processes. Mentally-"

"So just a few weeks, then?" Harry interjected.

She nodded as she cushioned his limbs with pillows and covered him with blankets. Harry shifted in the armchair, finding a more comfortable position and gazed out of the window. Looking down into Remus's shabby backyard, he saw a vegetable patch brimming with plants. The storm during the night and dawn had turned the soil into mud and puddles which glittered in the daylight, just like the mirrors of his connection.

Cotter gave him a glass of the Nutrient Potion, and placed a tray of food next to him. She then sat down on the edge of his bed and stared dreamily out of the window. She looked quite different now. Younger, with less of that brooding expression she always had in Azkaban.

"I heard you are having nightmares about Mr Fletcher, among others," she commented.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably. When Brodes wasn't in his dreams, Dung was weaving in and about with his tongueless words, tormenting him. Sometimes it was Ginny or his mother, unable to forgive him for what had happened to him.

"Maybe…"

"You did what you had to."

"I killed him."

"Fletcher was the one who retaliated against the Atoners, not you."

"Then why do I feel like this is all my fault?"

"You chose to survive." Cotter looked at him sadly. "None of it is your doing."

"I know, I know... but …" He decided to change subjects slightly. "How did he end up in Azkaban?"

"He was caught stealing files from Umbridge's office. Dumbledore tried to get him out several times, but it never worked and it too dangerous for Dumbledore to intervene… in fact, the minute he left you alone after his visit, the Aurors were looking for him with the order for his arrest." Agnes winced, touching her newly healed shoulder.

"I heard about how you escaped, saving those kids."

"I was lucky."

"That's my favourite saying," he laughed. "What about your own family?" Harry looked down at the vegetable patch again, and saw a stray goat from next door's farm munching on Remus's perfect greens. "Aren't they worried about you?"

She looked at him, again with a veiled expression masking her emotions. "I don't have any."

But Harry knew she was lying.

"Speaking of family. Your mother wants to visit you again. I know you've refused James's request to see—"

"They're not my parents."

(******)

Lily was late to the meeting after Jessica had refused to leave from her spot under the bed, scared of a dark-haired witch she had dreamt of. She sat between Kingsley and Tonks and listened to Molly's angry words.

Order at The Burrow was being tested since the influx of refugees. Bored young wizards and witches trespassed onto Muggle farmers' properties, and blatantly used magic in front of the Weasley's Muggle neighbours.

Molly was going spare after the latest trouble. "Albus, how long do they need to stay here? Poor Mr Gregson had all his cows dancing around his paddock, mooing in tune to 'You Take the High Road.'"

The kitchen was crammed with old and new Order members. Those who could not fit into the kitchen were listening to the meeting through a secure wireless radio that would tune to their ears only.

Molly's ears had turned red like the setting sun. "Our paddock is much too small to be housing a couple of thousand wizards and witches."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Dumbledore replied. "All the children involved have been reprimanded. However, the numbers are starting to dwindle as they seek protection elsewhere. It'll become manageable by the end of the week."

"I see more people coming in, than leaving."

"I've asked the old members of the Order to join us. Death Eaters have been prowling their towns, attacking them when the opportunity arises. The situation is getting worse."

"And the only refugees who'll remain are those willing to fight," Amelia Bones stated. "The others will be protected abroad."

"In designated spots?" Dumbledore asked.

"The French Minister, Aramis Savreux will allow the refugees into several secure areas. Minister Savreux and the Norwegian Minister, Kolgrim Toov, will be sending us Aurors and Hit Wizards to help our fight."

"That's a generous offer!"

Amelia had only been there new Minister for Magic barely a week and already she was getting things done. She even gave the Muggles licence to conduct air raids in spots they knew had hidden Death Eaters, information which Scrimgeour had refused to give them, afraid they would find the Ministry and target it out of paranoia.

Gawain Robards was now the new Senior Undersecretary. Lily thought he looked better since he had escaped The Black Square.

Gawain fidgeted next to the new Minister. "Amelia, we've lost over two thousand in law enforcement. We are sitting ducks here."

"We need to start recruiting quickly," Amelia responded.

"We know Voldemort will attack St Mungos next. How many are the French and Norwegians sending over? What about the other European countries?"

"Three hundred each," she replied. "The Bulgarian, Italian, German and Canadian Ministries are also sending us two hundred each. The MAGUSA will send their tactics specialist and Hit Wizards to help teach us advanced battle defence and combative spells. The Australian Ministry have also offered their help. They have recently arrested three Death Eaters and are very alarmed."

"As you know, You-Know-Who specifically killed off all the most experienced Aurors hours and Hit Wizards before the Ministry attack. The only senior Aurors left is our new Head of the Auror Department, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gawain Robards."

"A serious flaw." Kingsley grinned. "There are a few disenfranchised Aurors who had broken away from the Ministry, currently working abroad. I've asked them to come back."

"It's a shame Mad-Eye isn't with us anymore. His expertise would've been invaluable." Robards shook his head. "He had been the only one to visit me in Azkaban... I didn't know he had died."

Amelia regarded him thoughfully. "Gawain, on behalf of the new Ministry, we sincerely apologise for your wronged and cruel imprisonment for speaking about the Auror Department's corruption."

He grunted in response. "Let's just focus on this war, shall we?"

"Why now are we getting the help we've needed for decades?" piped a witch with a bandaged eye.

"We've always had allies. We've just had a corrupt Ministry not willing to let them help us," said Dumbledore. "Need I remind everyone the tragic event of 1989, when Death Eaters had attacked the Ministry for the very first time and failed? Rufus had shut down the Department of International Magical Cooperation and refused help from other Ministries. As Voldemort had done, Rufus ordered that Aurors infiltrate Muggle organisations in Europe, hoodwinking people to stop them from interfering in our problems."

Amelia agreed. "He had been afraid of international spies and he was deeply paranoid the Muggles would use their defences to wipe us out."

"Then he had this stupid fear that another country would be interested in taking over our Ministry," Gawain pointed out.

"What if Rufus had been hoodwinked?" Emmeline questioned.

"Possible, but if he had been, Voldemort would've taken over the Ministry many years ago," Gawain grunted.

"I'm sure Minister Sevreux is happier now with the change of Ministers," Dumbledore smiled. "He definitely didn't agree with Rufus on several areas, especially our Ministry's denial about the Dementor mist spreading to Paris and the existence of French Death Eaters. There have also been several attacks on Muggles there that we've denied."

"And these attacks have gotten worse in the last seven months," Kingsley added.

"For decades, Voldemort's been quietly slithering his way to domination here. But abroad… he's been preparing himself quite diligently." Gawain chuckled darkly. "Britain's his test run and he's learnt from his mistakes."

"Then we need to nip them in the bud, before it becomes too big to handle," Amelia gasped.

"It's too late." Kingsley frowned. "Although, Europe's been worried about Voldemort's claim over Britain, we think they've underestimated his influence in their countries. When the Death Eater sleeper factions are operational, it will be devastating."

Dumbledore rubbed his neatly cropped beard. "Voldemort's been slow, but methodical. They thought he was lazy, hesitant to take us over, but I knew more. I had warned them. I always had the belief that in one motion, Voldemort would have half the world at its knees. And I believe the time has come for him to act."

"However, it's possible the Ministries do have action plans they're not letting us know about," Gawain said.

"Albus…" Amelia clasped her hands. "The Belgium Minister, Marie Sloss hasn't answered our messages. There have been reports that she's acting strange, passing on bizarre laws preventing Belgium Muggle-borns from attending Beauxbatons."

"I've heard, but like our situation, we can't do much," Dumbledore said.

"All eleven year old Muggle-borns school letters from Beauxbatons have been intercepted on the Belgium border. There have been some resistance, but children thwarting the laws have been imprisoned."

There were several shocked gasps in the room. Lily was worried about Remus's children.

"Sevreux is appalled and is trying to rectify the situation."

"In the 80s, there had been a period where Beauxbatons students disappeared twice a year… turning up months later unharmed, and none spoke about what happened, attributing it to a sinister otherworldly force. France's Department of Mysteries had gotten involved, and eventually cold cased it," Gawain explained. "Then nothing happened for a decade. However in the last seven months eighty students have vanished. In this month alone? Forty... I think we can safely say, that these kids were, and are being conditioned."

"And those kids taken in the 80s? They're now the leaders." Kingsley grimaced. "France's sleeper faction has awoken."

"There has also been an increase in the disappearances of talented wizards and witches, in other countries too," Kingsley added, rifling through his papers.

"Germany?" Dumbledore asked. "What news is there, Kingsley?"

"It's bad. They've been persecuting their underground Death Eater groups... but they've been small, only a handful of Death Eaters every few years. Now their numbers and attacks have grown tenfold in the last month. We're talking about over a thousand suspected Death Eaters in Germany alone now, and perhaps another thousand still waiting."

Lily shivered. This was worse than she expected.

"What about Albania? Voldemort had spent many years there as a young man."

"They have a larger scattered network which is much more difficult to eradicate," Kingsley answered. "And we believe Bellatrix has ordered the Sleepers to congregate and wait for Voldemort's signal. Once the command is given, Europe will be taken over within days."

Gawain sneered. "Since Grindelwald's made his appearance, Voldemort's advanced his territory in a hurry. Despite reports of him weakening, we cannot deny that he's organised himself in a way that we need to be prepared for an irreversible loss."

Lily closed her eyes thinking of a future where Voldemort won. There'll be nowhere to hide and no country to feel safe in.

"But Grindelwald's putting a dent in Voldemort's army," Kingsley said. "We're discovering dozens of dead Death Eaters every week, and hundreds have changed sides. The battles occurring every day between them, means we have more focus to prepare our defences."

Amelia was about to speak when a grey-haired witch in the foreground, raised her hand. Dumbledore smiled.

"I'm, Auror Ashling Flaherty." She cleared her throat. "I was working in Azkaban before the downfall, and I was guarding Class B prisoners outside The Black Square…" She took a deep breath. "I just don't want us to forget that some of the most dangerous Death Eaters imprisoned there have made it back to You-Know-Who. With all of them back under his command, we won't have a chance to beat this war."

"While they're a formidable power each to themselves, they're also damaged goods. The Black Square's changed us all," Gawain said.

Lily stiffened at the thought of what her son and his Mirror had endured.

Then suddenly in the silence, Unspeakable Bode laughed, banging the table with a fist. Lily vaguely remembered the Unspeakable being imprisoned for disobeying the Minister's orders to preform experiments on captured Death Eaters. "What about the prophecies regarding Voldemort, Potter and Longbottom?"

Prophecies? There was only one that Lily knew involved Harry, and that ended in the death of Neville and his family.

There was a frenzy of whispers now around the room.

"Bode, you can't—"

"Ahh, shut up, Croaker! The destruction of the Department of Mysteries has broken our oath."

The grey-haired and moustachioed Unspeakable, Professor Saul Croaker, pushed forward so that everyone could see him. "Us, Unspeakables, are still bound to secrecy, oath or not!"

"What's the use now?" Bode spoke up, "We have a duty to help end this war and our knowledge may help."

"But—"

"Look, there are two prophecies that involved the boy. I saw the orbs myself in the Hall of Prophecies. One had Voldemort's, Potter's and Longbottom's names on it. The other involves Potter and another mysterious person."

Lily stared intently at Dumbledore, who eyed Bode blankly. She wondered, hoped, that he'd let something slip. Masks and lies, she thought.

Then Dumbledore spoke. "Whatever these prophecies were, Harry Potter's path has changed. Do not look for hope where none is. He will never turn. The prophecies have been destroyed, Professor Croaker made sure of that."

"You destroyed the orbs?" growled Bode at the fellow Unspeakable.

"Yes, I did, way before the Ministry attack."

"So we will never know, and what you must know is that the boy is a true Death Eater," Dumbledore added, as the Unspeakables stared daggers at each other.

"What did you speak to him about, Dumbledore?" Bode asked. "We all saw you visiting the boy twice."

"Four weeks ago, I wanted to know what had happened when he had escaped Azkaban."

"And?" Gawain asked, curious.

"He told me nothing. Harry is deeply entrenched into Voldemort's circle. He has no remorse and no inclination to turn."

There were a lot of disappointed faces in the kitchen now. But Lily knew that Dumbledore was a spectacular liar. Her anger boiled once again.

"Now, we must worry about these bored and reckless children who are causing havoc around the camp. My plan, as Headmaster of Hogwarts is to erect a marquee where we can teach them. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout, will teach the children their respective subjects. Hagrid will teach them about magical creatures. Professor Croaker, I understand you are adept in astronomy?" The Unspeakable nodded. "Your expertise will be invaluable if you'll take up my offer. Tiberius, I would be honoured if you can teach all the children, regardless of age, Apparation."

"Aye, will be glad to." The old wizard, coughed.

"They all need to learn more advanced spells, despite their young ages. The Conditioned are already quite skilled, whereas, our children only know the most basic of spells, depending on what their parents were happy to teach them. I know that the Order members' children are quite skilled in defence already."

Parents all around agreed.

"Once I tempt Horace Slughorn, he will hopefully be a Potions teacher. And I will teach Defence, until I can find someone else suitable. I will also be adding a new subject, Healing. As I think now is the greatest need for more wizards and witches to be experienced in healing wounds. Madam Pomfrey has accepted," Dumbledore concluded. "It will be a trying time, confusing and perhaps a little frustrating. In a few days we will have a final timetable and classes. All children, aged seven to seventeen must report to Professor McGonagall."

"What about the rescued Conditioned?" another member asked. "They need specialised help to assimilate back into society."

"The Conditioned will be evaluated soon," Amelia said directly to the mother.

A bearded man with a round belly stepped forward. "I'm Healer Nicodemus Spratt and I am a part of a small group of Healers who will be helping the children and prisoners."

"And I am sure Healer Spratt and his team will do their best to help them," Amelia concluded with a smile.

There was a moment of silence.

Gawain tapped his finger on the table. "I think we have gone through everything we needed to discuss this morning in our very first public Ministry and Order meeting," he said, surveying the parchment that was crossing off subjects of their meeting with a hovering blue quill. "Next meeting will be in two days from now. Same time, same place."

The order members broke into discussion and Dumbledore stood up, whispering with Kingsley, Gawain and Amelia.

Lily stretched her back, drained the last of her tea and placed the crockery on the kitchen sink. Then she jolted at Dumbledore's gentle touch.

"Octavia has told me that your sister has recovered. She grows restless being here, Vernon keeps sending me threatening letters, and I think its time we moved her and her family to a better location."

Lily crossed her arms. She was afraid that she might say something she'd regret.

He sighed and stepped back. "I'm no saint—"

"Far from it!"

"Lily, save your hate til the end of this war. Right now, I need your cooperation, please."

She narrowed her eyes, but she knew he was right.

"Walk with me. I need to tell you more about your sister and… the Mirror."

Lily followed Dumbledore into the living room. She noticed that Michael and Christopher were reading on the couch, and they both looked up. Michael had an expression that she knew too well, when he was trying to eavesdrop. She turned around and whispered, "My sister will have to go somewhere where they think they're not surrounded by magical folk."

"There is an abandoned farm near Remus's and it will be ideal for them to stay in. The area is protected and the house is liveable."

"But not to the pristine standards my sister enjoys," Lily responded slyly. Even though Petunia was still her normal waspish self, she did notice that her sister wanted more of her company.

"Nonetheless, Petunia has agreed to move there for the sake of her family. Now, I have a letter for you. It's from Remus. It's about the boy." He retrieved the letter from deep within his gold and blue robes.

She turned her head and saw that Michael was craning his neck to see what had been exchanged. Lily quickly hid the letter.

"Albus, when Bodes said there were two prophecies—"

"The first you know about. The second one Sybil Trelawney had divulged, I would rather tell Harry alone."

"But he's with Death Eaters—"

"The other," he whispered.

"Oh…"

"Read the letter and see what you can do."

She clutched her cardigan pocket which protected the letter. He turned to leave, but Lily touched his hand. "I'm worried about Severus..."

"So am I, but he's skilled in many areas, and he will protect your daughter."

"I know, but time's running out for him."

"Don't fret over it. I always have plans."

"Plans that involve ruining peoples lives." She looked into his blue eyes and thought to herself, who will suffer next to protect her little girl?

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "I usually give people a choice."

"Ahh, Albus," squeaked Professor Flitwick, spotting them. "I have the information you wanted." He waddled over, handing Dumbledore a thick bundle of scrolls.

"Thank you, Filius." Dumbledore smiled. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't find anything."

"It took me days, but I managed. You'll need my help to manipulate the magic and also an Unspeakable or two... the magic will be far too advanced for the likes of us."

Lily excused herself from the wizards as their conversation turned to spell making. Besides, she couldn't stand being in Dumbledore's presence. She retreated to her bedroom and unfolded the letter.

Dear Lily,

I hope all is well. James sends his love. He's disappeared again, but he promised me he'll be back within the week.

I thought you'd like an update on the Mirror's condition.

Over the last few days his nightmares have gotten worse. Albus doesn't want us giving him the Dreamless Sleep Potion, so we need to find another way to soothe him.

I know he doesn't want to see you, but I think he needs you. Please reassure him that you are here for him.

Come when you have the chance.

P.S, I hope Michael and Christopher are staying out of trouble. And give Jessica a hug from Moony.

Remus J. Lupin

After several moments to herself, she pulled on her travelling cloak.

(******)

Hours later, Lily sat down in Remus's kitchen drinking her fourth cup of tea of the day.

"So he still doesn't want to see me?"

Remus shook his head. He mashed some potatoes rather violently. "He's quite withdrawn today. He just stares out of the window..."

Lily crinkled her brow. "Why doesn't Albus want him to be given Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

Remus lifted the pot lid on the poaching chicken and said, "It's to do with the connection between the Mirrors."

"Connection?"

He stared back rather hesitantly.

"If it's confidential information, don't worry," she resigned. Lily worried about Harry's immediate needs, not whatever Dumbledore was up to. "But do you think we should offer him other support?"

"Agnes thinks it time too."

Lily looked at the ceiling imagining what Harry was doing upstairs in his bedroom. "I'll take up his lunch when it's ready."

"Good luck with that," Remus said, sipping his tea as he rejoined her at the table. "Because he's quite adamant that he doesn't want to see you. He flat out refuses to see Albus."

"Albus," Lily said to herself with bitterness. Remus took her hand gently. "He should've trusted us to help him."

Remus sighed loudly, patted her hand and stood up to carve up the chicken.

Lily cleared her throat, sick of thinking about Dumbledore's actions. "Do you want me to cook for Harry, when you become Moony?"

He flicked up his eyebrow. "No offence, but I don't want to kill the boy with your cooking."

She threw a biscuit at him.

(******)

Lily stood at the bedroom doorway with a tray of food and potions hovering behind her.

Harry sat in a flowery armchair that almost swallowed him up, covered in blankets and pillows that cushioned his broken body. He looked comfortable yet forlorn as he stared out of the window. It made her heart ache seeing how pale and gaunt he was, and there was that haunted, ghostly look on his face, the same one Gawain Robards had. But he did look better since she last saw him.

Lily knocked softly. He turned slowly her way. "Hi," she said with a small smile on her face.

Harry shifted in the armchair. Every movement he made was slow and weak. "Hullo…" His voice was barely a whisper. He cleared his throat. "I saw you coming up the path."

"May I come in?"

"I asked for no visitors."

"I know, but," she ventured bravely forward, "I've brought you your lunch."

"Is there any treacle tart?"

"Unfortunately that would be too rich for you." Lily smiled, slightly amused. "So treacle tart, eh?"

She walked around his bed, placing the tray on it, and she sat gingerly near him. Lily wanted to make his hurts go away, but looking at the state of his pale, frail body, she knew it would be more difficult than that.

"Harry hates treacle. I think it didn't help that he ate five full jars of it as a toddler and made himself sick."

He nodded with a sad, empty smile. It was a smile reminiscent of her own son's on Christmas Eve a couple of years ago. Her heart tightened at the memory.

"H-how are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Harry looked up, meeting her worried look, his green eyes dull on a wasted face. "A way back home would be nice."

"You won't survive your own war like this." Lily touched his hand. "We would never live with ourselves if you died fighting in this condition."

He pulled his hand away. "Funny, it was surprisingly easy for Dumbledore to live with it as I languished in prison."

"I just want to say that when I found out about you, I really wanted to rescue you, if that's any consolation, and James is worried sick about you."

"Please leave."

Lily recoiled slightly. "I'm sorry I intruded, but I just wanted to see you."

He nodded softly as he stared out of the window.

"Harry, if you need to talk about… about anything, I'm only a Floo call away."

"I don't!" he snapped. The anger showed now, making Lily cringe. "I just want to be alone. I don't want to talk to anyone. I'm sick of this world and everyone!"

She felt as though her heart were ripping in two as she walked away. He was angry and hurt with them all, and nothing she could say would help him.

Lily was about to close the door, when she heard him sobbing and gulping. Oh god…

She peeked into the room and saw the boy pinching the corner of his eyes, failing to stop his tears from falling. Lily quickly rushed to his side, sitting on the arm of the chair.

"Sweetheart!" She wrapped her arms around him and all she felt were bones, shaking sobs and pure heartache. For a split second, Harry tensed, but then he suddenly cried harder at her touch.

"Shhh… just let it all out..." she said, trying to smooth his hair back. Lily felt him relaxing against her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed, letting his tears fall freely. "I don't know what's come over me."

"Don't apologise for this. Just let it all—"

"I wish you never died."

She couldn't breathe. Lily felt as though all air was sucked out of the bedroom. To hear him say it like that truly broke her.

He sighed deeply, his fingers tightening around her body, grasping at her jumper as though frightened that he'd lose her again.

"I'm r-right here for you now and that's all that matters." She trembled as she kissed his forehead, over his ghastly scar. He stopped sobbing and just relaxed, sniffling. "You're going to be okay."

"Why me?"

She couldn't answer that question. Instead hugged him a little tighter, and stayed with him until the sun had set.

(******)

Harry lay curled into a tight ball, with the blankets and quilt over his face, protecting him like a cocoon. He snuggled in, relishing the luxury he was deprived of in Azkaban, and even on the Horcrux hunt. He was sleeping slightly better now. At least his mother had stopped appearing in his dreams, telling him how very ashamed she was of him.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"What?" he grunted.

"Good afternoon to you too." Remus peered in. Harry scowled as the werewolf walked in and sat on his bed. "Come on, Harry, I'll take you outside for a bit. It'll do you some good."

"I don't want to—"

"Yes you do," Remus adamantly replied. He conjured up a wheelchair for him after walking down the stairs had exhausted him.

Harry snuggled up in a cloak and scarf and was wheeled into the backyard. He closed his eyes, breathing in the crisp, fresh air. As it filled his lungs, he suddenly felt more alive.

Remus wheeled him around the property. It was more of an acre of grassland, trees and ancient stone walls and the little cottage sat on a hill overlooking the Yorkshire Dales. For a moment Harry had a glimpse of the countryside before the mist swallowed it whole. It felt wonderful feeling the cool autumn breeze on his face.

"The Dursleys are living there now," Remus remarked as he pointed towards a tiny farm-house in the distance. "Petunia's all right—back to her usual self. But Vernon's still furious with us."

"Do they know they live right next to a werewolf?"

"No." He laughed. "What they don't know won't hurt them. It was a battle getting them to stay here in protection—Ahh, here they are."

"Harrrrooo there!"

It wasn't that he saw James happily shouting in the distance, trudging up the pebbly pathway, which made Harry almost leap in joy. It was the two children with him, running up the path, their cloaks flying in the wind.

"HARRRYYYYY!" Ashley yelled. Her short brown hair was wind-blown.

Her brother followed behind, but he didn't say a word. His hair was longer, covering up the scars on the side of his face.

"Well isn't this a surprise," Harry said, grinning, the muscles in his face aching.

Ashley threw her arms around him, squealing in joy. For a moment he couldn't see a thing.

"Blimey, careful," James puffed.

"Hey," Tony said, though his greeting was lukewarm compared to his sister's.

"I'm so happy to see you again," the little girl cried.

"This is—wow, I'm—I was wondering when I'd see you two again."

"We're here now, finally," Tony said.

"You never guess where we've been," Ashley squeaked. "With Grindelwald!"

"Will you shut up about it?"

"Now…" James crouched down, grasping the children with both hands. "While you stay with Remus, I don't want to hear anything about the other boy, and Grindelwald. Do you understand?" The children nodded. "It's got to be a secret."

"We know how to keep secrets," Ashley said.

James stood up and smiled sadly at Harry. "Hey," he said softly. "I—"

Harry stood up wobbly. He noticed they were the same height as he hugged his Mirror father. James curled his arms gently around him.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Harry said quickly. "I'm so happy you're well and alive."

25. Demons

Demons

Remus had a spring in his step as he settled the children in the spare bedroom. The arrival of Pettigrew's kids seemed to have given him a new lease on life.

"Harry, are you going to tell us stories before bed?" Ashley squeaked.

"When I'm well enough." He smiled, admiring that even through the horror Ashley had experienced she was still able to enjoy the simple things a child should.

Tony climbed up onto the top bunk and stared at the ceiling in silence, while Ashley got busy arranging some soft toys around the bottom bunk.

Having seen enough, Harry limped away with the aid of his cane. In his bedroom, he discovered James hanging up his cloak.

"I hope you won't mind me sleeping in here." James ran a hand through his hair, sounding rather nervous. "I know you refused to see me and Lily."

"I don't mind at all now." Harry sat down, suddenly noticing the small wrinkles around his father's eyes and even a dark bruise on the side of his face.

"I bet you have a million questions to ask… so do I," James sighed.

"Yep. What happened to you—to Sirius?"

James quickly paled as he sat on his bed. "Sirius died trying to rescue a Muggle in an alleyway—I tried to revive him, so did one of Grindelwald's men, but when we gave up, they knocked me out cold and took me."

"I'm so sorry..."

James blinked away his tears. "Grindelwald's a weird, creepy bloke—kept asking about Harry's Mage ability, and if it could be traced back in my family. He also kept talking about the Deathly Hallows. I didn't care about his questions; Sirius was gone, and my son was under his control… I honestly thought we were in danger."

"What did he say about the Hallows?"

"He thinks that ring Dumbledore wears is the Resurrection Stone, and my invisibility cloak—"

"Well, they are."

James stopped laughing. Shock replaced his amusement.

"What happened when you were Grindelwald's prisoner?" Harry asked, forcing James out of his surprised stupor.

"He kept me locked in a chamber—some old fortress in Ireland—Dumbledore never knew he had taken me for days. HA! The kids were there, and treated them like their own. They then moved us to a cave."

"A cave, where?"

"In Cork. That's where I discovered my son, fast asleep on an altar. Listen, did that connection between you and my son work?"

"Yeah. Perfectly."

Then James tethered on the edge of saying something.

"How did you end up in Azkaban?" Harry asked first.

James scowled. "After weeks, I could move freely from Grindelwald's Headquarters as long as I returned. I went to Godric's Hollow—I wanted to see Sirius's grave—I never made it because the Aurors caught me."

"You're lucky Umbridge didn't kill you."

James let out a whistle. "I know."

"So what was your purpose being Grindelwald's prisoner?"

"To help my son. You know, I can't believe Dumbledore's working with him. Then Dumbledore came to see me right before he visited you in Azkaban and told me the plan: they were going to put my son to sleep, straight after he'd ask you to wait in prison longer."

Something changed in James's expression. "Harry, I'm so sorry, I really didn't want you to be kept there. I flat out refused to be part of it—"

Harry put up his hand. He didn't want James's apology. "How do you feel about your son now?"

"I'm not sure. They told me there was a chance that you, being his Mirror, could help him see the error of his ways, and I could reassure him that it wasn't too late."

James began pacing the bedroom.

"Harry looked up to me. Yeah, we grew apart a couple of years before he killed Charlie, but before that, he'd never leave me alone and go where I went… we did loads together, but Harry, is—was like Lily, you see. Michael—now that kid is a split image of my personality."

Listening to James talk about his Mirror being like Lily gripped his heart like a vice.

James seemed so sad now. "I don't think we'll ever get Harry back the way he was."

"How did you help him?"

"I sat with him every day, told him stories about his childhood, told him my stories. I told him how much we had loved him, that Lily—despite his evil, still loves him. That I…" He turned away, crestfallen.

"Do you?" Harry whispered, sitting forward. "Do you still love him?"

"I'll never forgive him."

"Nobody is asking you to, James. I feel sick at the thought that he is me, that I could become like him—"

"But you're not," James interrupted. "Dumbledore's told me all about you, all that he's seen through Legilimency. You're the son I would've been proud to have, whom I am proud of. I wish…" His voice trailed off, never finishing his sentence.

"Harry noticed you there with him. I think you helped."

"I'm… I'm happy to hear that. I hope so."

James was on the verge of asking something again, and this time he had the courage to say it. "What did you see in his mind?"

"Secrets," Harry answered solemnly, "and lies. I want to know why he really killed Charlie, because he is determined not to show me."

His Mirror father gulped.

"James, you wouldn't happen to know anything about the Obsidian Stitch, do you?"

He seemed confused by such a random question. "I remember Remus telling me what Peter showed him. Why?"

"Charlie and Harry were investigating it."

"Why would they?"

"I have a feeling that's the reason why Charlie was murdered."

(******)

Fifty bound and battered Healers huddled together in the main foyer of St Mungo's.

Death Eaters had infiltrated the hospital. It had been surprisingly easy. Some Healers had been killed as they fought back, but most, not being experienced in battle, just surrendered. The staff that remained had been shredding records, fearing Voldemort would use them somehow, and they were looking after the few very ill patients too fragile to be moved.

The Hospital Head, Farris Barrach, knelt at Dolohov's feet. "Don't harm us. We're neutral in this war." The large gash to his head was bleeding profusely. "Don't kill the sick—they haven't done anything against you."

Antonin Dolohov didn't look impressed. "You should embrace death willingly old man, but, we won't kill you." He looked around the main foyer. "It looks like most of the patients have been evacuated anyway."

"Those most seriously sick are still here," Farris added.

Dolohov's eyes brightened with amusement. "We've killed them."

"NO!" Farris yelled. Several Healers cried in dismay.

"They weren't any use to us anyway." Dolohov pointed his wand into the Healer's face. "Now, you won't be killed. We need Healers working for the Dark Lord."

Farris looked disgusted; he seemed on the verge of retracting his words about neutrality.

Severus had been pacing behind the group of Healers. He had tried to save a few of the sick, sending them via Portkey to, of all places to a Buddhist temple in Nepal, but it was difficult and some would not survive the journey.

He and the Conditioned couldn't send the rescued to the Order. Dumbledore feared a spy was there now and Severus needed to throw off the scent. If his master knew who had rescued the Ministry workers, then he was bidding his time to suss out the perpetrators.

Dolohov nodded towards Severus.

"I suggest you all take up the offer. Your lives will be spared and your families will be safe." Severus looked into their terrified faces. "Remember the oath you took when you became Healers? You must treat the sick regardless of their affiliations and past. Will you break your oath now?"

The Healers looked at one another and Farris looked torn.

"Yes but, we are being forced to do so against our will."

"For fucks sake," Dolohov growled, "join us or die!"

(******)

There was a much happier atmosphere at Remus's, even though Harry still felt bleak at times.

When Harry had the energy, he'd walk throughout the house, sometimes discovering James and Remus whispering in a corner. Other times he would catch Ashley and Tony exploring a room, or riffling through old photobooks.

James stayed with them at night, though by day he would help out at The Burrow. He told Harry about the St Mungo's takeover and the Ministry attack. He explained what was happening within the refugee camp and that any day now, extra law enforcement from Europe and beyond would come to their aid.

Harry also learnt that Lily was much brighter now that they were all safe, and in turn she had sent him a lovely potted cyclamen which changed colour according to his mood.

Another day passed and another, and Harry was feeling stronger and steadier on his feet. He decided to venture into the living room, lying on the couch in silence near the warmth of the fire. Sometimes he retreated to the solitude of his bedroom, wanting nothing but the same quiet and darkness that matched the way he felt.

Other times, he just watched the children playing Exploding Snap. He heard James telling Ashley stories about Hogwarts and his adventures with the Marauders. But the children were especially keen hearing about their father.

When Harry heard about Mirror Peter being brave, his heart constricted. In this world, it had been Peter changing heart and realising his mistakes. With the effort of his friends, he had turned away from Voldemort.

Tony was still wary of James, but he and Remus got on very well. He followed the werewolf like a puppy. Remus was happy to oblige, perhaps happy of the attention he missed from his own children. He taught the young wizard some useful spells around the house, and the boy even learnt a bit about gardening.

(******)

Harry walked into the yard, his cane tapping on the cobbled pathway as he made his way to the vegetable patch where Remus and Tony were tending to the plants. He sat on the bench and watched, meanwhile, smelling the frying onions wafting from the open back door.

James was cooking pies for dinner, while Ashley was busying herself with drawing. Harry had seen some of the pictures she made and they were disturbing: dark monsters, collared and naked Muggle-born slaves, fires, and windowless rooms. Red stains on the floor and chains, pictures full of green light and black robed figures holding knifes, and wands. The girl needed help.

Remus breathed in the misty air as Harry sat on the bench. "You know, Anne and I used to baby sit you."

"I remember," Tony replied. He pulled out some carrots, putting them into the basket. "I also remember playing hide and seek with Tristan and Bethany." The boy drifted off in thought.

The werewolf cleared his throat. "I can tell you're angry with James and Dumbledore."

Tony violently pulled out the turnips. "I just don't understand why everyone abandoned my family."

The boy straightened up, brushing the dirt off his hands onto his jeans, his watery blue eyes now full of bitterness.

"We never did. Your family was always on our minds," Remus said softly. "We searched for you. Dumbledore sent out spies... The problem is that the mentors always place anti-tracking charms on the Conditioned and so many protective spells on their houses."

"Even before that, Remus. What about when my dad was alive? Nobody helped him then."

"We all tried to help your dad. But your father refused to see us. He refused to let me in unless he was excited about some fake werewolf cure."

"Except Charlie." The boy was confused as he sat next to Harry. "But why?"

"He was scared. Brave, but scared. Being a werewolf was torture and shame for him. Your mother never let you kids see it, but it was tearing her apart. James felt useless and guilty because Peter was the one who had saved him from Greyback in that Bristow school attack."

Tony fell quiet for awhile, with his head bowed. Harry nudged his shoulder lightly. "Nothing is ever black and white," he whispered.

Tony nodded.

Remus finished watering the plants and stretched his back. "All right, I think we've got enough vegetables. Let's go back in. The days are getting shorter and colder and the Dementors find it very romantic."

"Yuk!" Tony spat, rushing indoors.

Harry took Remus's hand and he was pulled off the bench.

He had grown comfortable with the werewolf. He was very similar to the Remus he missed dearly in his world, but their past made them different and there was a profound sadness in Mirror Remus that Harry now felt kinship with.

They walked past the bolted basement door near the laundry, and Remus made a comment that he would be locked in there when he's to transform in a night's time.

Harry stood face to face with it. Tony scowled, as he would've experienced something similar with his father. He trudged off into the kitchen to see his sister and hand the vegetables over to James.

It was a thick iron door painted white. Somebody had painted flowers on it to hide the horror behind it. There were several heavy locks in place, glinting ominously back at Harry.

A thick, impenetrable, iron door…

Thoughts about Cell Number 13 flooded his mind. Harry had to look away as a threatening bundle of emotions was raring to explode. The brutality… the humiliation….

And then…

"You're mine, Potter."

Harry whipped around, shivering. He's dead! But why could he feel the Atoner's hands on his body and his weight on him? Why could he feel the Atoner's breath on the back of his neck?

Then laughter resounded in his ears. "You can't hide the fact that you're enjoying it, Potter."

"No!" he breathed. "Stop this!"

"Harry?"

The clink of chains.

"Dementors—"

"There aren't any here."

"You like it, Potter. You want to be fucked."

A crack of a fiery whip.

"SAY YOU LIKE IT!"

"Harry, what's wrong?"

The screams… The raw pain. Their touch.

The cell doors slamming shut.

"Harry, speak to me!"

A hand gently touched his arm, but Harry vehemently knocked it back. "DON'T TOUCH ME!"

The light bulb overhead burned fiercely and exploded. The shards of glass began to curiously float above them.

"Harry, you're okay…" Remus pulled back, concerned. "Nobody's going to hurt you."

He jolted when he smacked against the wall, letting out a cry of shock. He slid down, breathing deeply, slowly gaining control of his senses. But the air was hot and suffocating, and he needed to go outside.

Harry burst out of the back door and sat down on the porch stairs, sucking in the fresh air, covering his face with his hands. What the hell was that?

Remus sat down next to him and James had come out too.

"Don't—"

"I'm just keeping you company. Are you okay?"

He liked the fact that Remus had never asked about his treatment in Azkaban. He never once asked about his experiences, even though James had tried over the last couple of days, and Lily had urged him to talk about it. Now Harry felt as though Remus was on the verge of breaking that invisible bond.

"I'm fine."

The werewolf sighed, staring at the bleak grey sky, the colour darkening to slate the longer they stayed out. He seemed torn… anguished. Harry had to turn away from his Mirror father, who seemed distraught.

"I'll… I'll go back inside," James whispered.

"Yeah." Remus nodded.

But Harry knew James was listening in from behind the door.

"Before I met Anne the most mundane thing would trigger flashbacks. When a dog bared his teeth at me, or I heard a growl, I was transported back to the very moment Greyback attacked me as a child." Remus trembled. "I can hear my parents screaming… I can feel his fangs…"

He wondered if this is what happened to his Remus. He never had the courage to ask. Then Harry understood at that very moment that he wasn't the only one struggling with demons.

"I thought I was okay too, but it never really is, you know." Remus unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it away to reveal the hideous scar in the crook of his neck and chest. "I'm lucky to be alive."

Harry closed his eyes, feeling a strange constricting feeling in his chest. "That door, it reminds me of…"

"I know, you don't need to tell me, but, would you like someone to talk to?"

"No. I, I don't know… yes."

"There is a potion that can help, but it's always a companion to other help... and eventually your problem will only be horrible memories buried deep, with none of the effects that surface. It helps a great deal—"

"Yes, I'll take it."

"Good. It helped me a lot," Remus whispered.

(******)

Severus knocked on the old wooden door and hoped Dumbledore would let him in before the autumn chill killed him. He gazed at the darkening, misty hills, and the little Muggle homes scattering the valley.

He knocked more vigorously, cursing himself for even answering Dumbledore's message to come. Merlin only knows what the recuperating Death Eaters were doing to his dreary house in Spinner's End. A few of them would stay awake until the early hours of the morning, drinking themselves to sleep, littering the kitchen with whiskey bottles and such. Severus also noticed potion bottles of a substance that had no name. Some of the imprisoned simply called it, The Water. He had tried it once, and it tasted bittersweet, instantly feeling bliss and happiness, and a vague sense that he was free. Taken in large amounts however, the drinker would remain in a trance forever.

There was a scrape of a dozen locks, and Dumbledore greeted him like an old friend. The warmth from the hut instantly wrapped around his frozen body.

"Severus, come in, come in, you must be famished. I've made beef stroganoff and a trifle," he said happily, striding into his tiny kitchen where a pot of stew simmered, and a potion in a cauldron bubbled away. He knew the smell of it: Polyjuice.

Severus flicked up an eyebrow. He thought Dumbledore only wanted a debriefing about St Mungo's takeover.

"You invited me over for… dinner?"

Last time Dumbledore had served him dinner was when he was trying to butter him up for something. That had been after the Longbottoms died, and he wanted to quit being a Death Eater.

He crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

Dumbledore turned around, wooden spoon in midair, dripping a creamy mixture back into the pot. "Nothing, I simply wanted to enjoy dinner with a friend."

Severus sat down at the table and lighted the candle. "I sometimes wonder if you would've done well in Slytherin."

"Alas, I chose Gryffindor." Dumbledore chuckled to himself. "I think we sort students too early, mind you."

Severus grimaced. He was never given a choice with the Hat.

"Are we going to discuss Hat lores this evening, Albus?" he asked, drumming his fingers impatiently on the wooden table, his grumbling stomach betraying his stoic mood.

Dumbledore ladled the stew into chipped delft plates and placed one in front of him. The steam gave off a rich creamy and hearty smell which made his mouth water. Severus's lip curled. While his heart wanted the food, his mind dwelled on the fact it was a trap.

"We'll discuss whatever comes into fruition." Dumbledore poured burgundy mead into two goblets. "St Mungo's take over was an easy one?"

He scoffed. "Barely was a fight… Most of the Healers are at Hogwarts now, guarded." Severus savoured the taste of the stew. "What will happen with Gringotts now? The Dark Lord is very reluctant to do anything at this stage. He knows the strength the goblins possess."

Dumbledore's spoon was halfway to his mouth when he carefully regarded him. "Wait and see."

Severus didn't like the sound of that.

"Is Voldemort treating you well?"

"Better than most."

"He keeps enquiring about Jessica Potter?"

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Severus wasn't hungry anymore. "I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to get out of this one. Every time he summons me, he asks about the child. I can't keep doing it much longer. He's going to kill—"

"You will not die. I won't allow it."

Severus laughed, amused. Dumbledore was a great, powerful wizard, but not a match. He had failed the first time, and he would not survive a second encounter. "How are you going to stop him?"

"I'm hoping he'll be distracted by other more pressing needs."

"The war? Potter? Unicorn blood? Double agents?"

"What have you found out about the unicorn blood?" Dumbledore looked up, stirring his stew.

Severus stared deeply into the wizard's blue eyes, encountering nothing but a strong resistance. "Unicorns started dying two months after your defeat. I thought he had been selling the blood on the black market, but he's killing them for himself."

"Interesting..."

"Do you remember your defeat?" Severus asked. "You had trouble with your memory. Potter doesn't talk about it. There's a rumour he was involved."

He knew there was a hole in the story of Dumbledore's defeat. He remembered Bellatrix's unconscious ramblings after Potter's absorption of her power.

"Bellatrix, wake up."

"…. My Lord… it was Potter…Potter… Dumbledore knew…he told him…I'll flay him …"

Dumbledore whitened and alarm bells starting ringing in Severus's head.

"And what was Potter doing for two months in Albania? Either you or the Dark Lord sent him there."

"He sent himself."

"You're not telling me the truth."

Dumbledore cocked up an eyebrow. "My memory will never be recovered, I'm afraid. While I see you are trying to uncover a non-existent secret, Severus is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Like what exactly?"

"I want the truth about Jessica Potter."

The spoon Severus held fell onto the plate, creating another chip. So Dumbledore knew about this lie as well. He decided to play along. "How long have you known?"

"Lily told me recently. She fears for her child," Dumbledore replied. "I won't reveal your secret, but I think James will need to know one day."

If Voldemort didn't kill him, he knew James would. "I'm not in the habit of revealing secrets, just like you."

Dumbledore lifted up his goblet of wine in a toast. "And that is something which we both excel at."

Severus raised his and they both drunk deeply in silence. He swilled the drink in his goblet, savouring the aroma. "So you never knew about Jessica's true father before Lily told you?"

"No."

He looked up, thinking about when this lie had been cooked up.

"What is it, Severus?"

"Lily's been hoodwinked with a powerful curse, and I'm not sure why."

A deep line appeared on the old wizard's forehead. "But you did have an affair—?"

"No. It was nothing but a strong passionate kiss that almost led to it. Almost. I'm not the girl's father, James is. I've just played along with Lily's delusion."

"I think you're in denial."

Severus explained how she would test her daughter every day, and how she didn't see that James was the father and not him.

"I'm not sure what to believe now, but I know you would lie about this."

Severus snorted. "Thank you for your confidence in me. But I suggest you test the girl's parentage yourself."

Dumbledore rubbed his chin. "Continue pretending that you're her father. It seems like someone is playing a trick on you, Severus. Might be for nefarious reasons—"

"You think?"

"—Or maybe not. We shall see."

They ate in peace for a few minutes, although Severus had lost his appetite minutes before. His eyes roved around the little kitchen. It was bare, except for the most ordinary necessities. The fire in the small living room crackled and burned, and even though he had a home, Hogwarts and Dumbledore's little house were the only places he truly felt welcomed in.

"Severus, the boy must wake soon."

"When?"

"His Mirror is desperate to go home. I will need to speak with him, before he does, and only then can our Harry wake. I cannot keep the Mirror here longer, that would be unfair of me."

He laughed cruelly. "I think you've been quite unfair to the boy from the beginning."

Severus had seen some nightmarish things in his lifetime: emaciated and mutilated, naked corpses of muggle-borns, the mounds of dead muggles being feasted on by werewolves, the little lifeless body of Neville Longbottom in his arms, prisoners ripping open the bodies of traitorous Death Eaters in the Great Hall, but witnessing the Black Square would be in his top ten worst, along with the Ministry takeover.

Dumbledore played with his food. "Once he wakes, things will move quickly."

"Well, should I just abandon my post and help you now, before my master finds out I was involved in rescuing the Ministry workers?"

"Not yet. I want you there as long as possible. My gut is telling me that there is a spy at The Burrow."

"Well, with so many people there now, I'd be surprised if there isn't one. There have been a few in the past."

"You're not frightened?"

Severus wasn't sure how he felt. Secretly, he was starting to get tired of all the acting. Eighteen years for a double agent was a long, weary time. Was he due for retirement yet? "I'm surprised I haven't been discovered."

"There have been a few close incidents, I recall, throughout the years," Dumbledore replied darkly. "Is there anyone in particular that Voldemort's looking for at the moment?"

"Do you know where Sybil is?" Severus asked. "He is currently interested in finding her."

Dumbledore seemed alarmed. "I haven't been able to track her down."

"What is it?"

"There is a spy in the Order! They would've heard Broderick Bodes talking about the prophecies about Harry. The second prophecy in particular—"

"Do you know what that one's about?"

"Yes, but I won't tell you." Dumbledore smiled. "The orbs were destroyed last year at my request—but it looks like Bodes had seen them before his imprisonment. Gellert has asked me about it and I don't know how Gellert found out."

"Does this second prophecy involve my master?"

"No. Voldemort would've been interested… anything involving the boy would've intrigued and frightened him into knowing. He searched for the first prophecy when he invaded the Ministry, but it doesn't matter now. Now everyone knows two existed."

"You'll need to find her urgently."

"Yes. Also, there is something Voldemort wants. I never had the proper time to investigate, but for months now, I've known that it is very important. I fear I had been too distracted with Harry to ever realise..." Dumbledore's said. "This may be why Jessica is needed, and when you take her—"

"What? NO! You can't use the girl!" Severus said, scraping his chair back. "I won't let you use her!"

"Touching. So you do feel something for the girl, after all?"

"Don't mock me!" he snarled in fury.

"I apologise, Severus. That was harsh of me," Dumbledore chagrined. "I know you are hurting and you are doing the very best to protect her."

"I'm doing the very best I can. I've learnt from my mistakes regarding the boy—"

For the first time since holding Neville Longbottom's corpse, he felt as though he could not string a proper train of thought together. He knew he sounded like a blabbering idiot.

He took a deep breath and regathered his senses. "I did it all for Lily and I don't want to fail her again."

"You never failed Harry," Dumbledore started, "I failed him… I alone."

Dumbledore entwined his hands. "You've suffered a lot, I know, and you've given up a happier life for the cause. Despite choosing the wrong path as a boy, and slightly skewed, you are an honourable man. You do not see it, but I do, just as much as Lily does."

Severus scoffed again. He was a snake. He was a monster, a demon that did not deserve anything good and pure.

Sighing, Dumbledore poured more mead into their glasses. "Jessica will be spared of all this mess. She is a damaged child, and she needs to be protected. Even though you say you are not her father, I can tell you care deeply for the safety of Lily's children."

26. The Other Help

The Other Help

Down in the dungeons, the sconces were ablaze in cold fires. Its flickering flames were causing the shadows of the armoured suits to dance.

Severus made his way through, ignoring old classrooms where he had once taught. Now they were decrepit cells for the prisoners and slaves.

A few Death Eaters lingered here, whispering in darkened corridors. While a few Ministry employees were sleeping, chained to iron loops, where centuries past, students would be chained and punished for their misdeeds.

Severus jolted, hearing an echoing scream down the corridor and then…

"Ahh, Severus," Lucius called from the shadows.

He swirled around. "Have you been waiting for me?" He was already on edge, and Lucius was a tug further into oblivion.

"I assume you've been called to see our master… Bella is with him. He's furious with her, even though she helped me retrieve a witch he wanted. Help her out if you please."

"I'm much inclined to do the opposite, but since you've asked nicely…"

Slithering fool. He had once admired Lucius Malfoy. However, over the last few years he had grown prickly, conniving and murderous. He did everything to protect the welfare and name of his family above the loyalty to the Dark Lord. Not that it angered Severus, since he was a spying double agent, but whenever Lucius was wrapped around his wife's finger, Severus had an ominous feeling that plots were brewing against him.

Lucius smirked. "I do it for my wife."

Both wizards had their mutual dislike for Bellatrix Lestrange. "And I do it to preserve my life."

Severus continued onward until Lucius called out again.

"Is my son still at your house?"

"Yes."

"What's he doing there? It's been weeks since he's been home."

"He is a grown wizard. He can—"

"Narcissa will not be silent any longer about it."

"He's there for Potter." Severus saw a wave of hatred over Lucius's face.

"I've told him a million times—I have warned him about that boy. Tell him to come home at once. His family is more important than that half-blood!" And with that little note, Lucius whipped around and began terrorising one of the imprisoned witches.

When Severus walked into his favourite Potions classroom of days past, where the Dark Lord had asked him to meet, he expected he would be interrogated for not having yet given him Jessica Potter. Instead he found Bellatrix grovelling at his feet, with mascara running down her cheeks.

To Severus's great surprise, and disappointment, he also saw the unconscious Professor Sybil Trelawney, sprawled behind the Dark Lord.

Trelawney had been in hiding since the downfall of Hogwarts, and not even Dumbledore had known her whereabouts. The Order had failed to find her.

"My Lord," Bella croaked, pulling at the hems of his robes. "It will never happen again. I apologise most sincerely."

The Dark Lord roughly grabbed a fistful of her long, dishevelled hair before pulling her up. She stopped crying, not even showing a flicker of pain, but her dark eyes were wide.

"You lecherous bitch!" the Dark Lord hissed angrily, now holding her head back by her hair, revealing her taut, pale neck. "You have jeopardised your position. You let a Mage absorb your power!"

He flung her to the ground and Bellatrix let out a cry of shock. With a click of his bony white fingers a goblet of unicorn blood popped into view and hovered in front of him. He quickly snatched it up, drinking deeply, before whipping out his wand. "CRUCIO!"

Bellatrix screamed as Severus backed himself against the wall, watching the witch writhe on the floor for a good minute. The Dark Lord lifted the curse, his red eyes blazing as Bellatrix wheezed, struggling to pull up with the aid of an upturned table.

"Why Severus?" Now the Dark Lord's attention was turned to him, but he was prepared for his punishment. "I told you I wanted the boy guarded, but you let this happen on your watch?"

"She was rather insistent, my Lord. I also had no right to deny a mentor, as our laws dictate."

He wandered how the Dark Lord had found out about this and guessed it was Pritchard who told him. The alcoholic Healer had a decency to whisper things to the Dark Lord, hoping to receive rewards. Most of the time, these rewards were barrels of Firewhiskey, banned substances for potion making or a fresh Muggle-born to experiment on.

"That's true." He watched Severus, as Bellatrix continued to catch her breath in the corner. Sybil, on the other hand did not stir.

"The more power he absorbs, the more destructive he'll become. He is young and his power is volatile. He must be like a hungry dog muzzled and chained." He paced the room. "I've heard the boy is in a deep sleep now. I'm not happy with this outcome, but I must admit it is a blessing in disguise."

"Of course, my Lord."

"Bellatrix…" The Dark Lord turned to her, nostrils flaring. "Go home. You are weak. You're relieved of your duties until you are fit—"

"No! HE MUST BE PUNISHED!" she screeched, outraged.

"Do not test me further. Potter doesn't need the support of a mentor anymore. I will punish him myself."

With a sweep of his robes and a flick of his wand, their master left, dragging Professor Trelawney with him.

Now Severus was in the classroom with Bellatrix, glaring murderously at him. He had no time to act on Bellatrix; he needed to tell Dumbledore about Trelawney straight away.

(******)

Harry had had the most vivid dream.

"Harry?"

He had woken in fright, drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around his legs.

"Are you all right?" James knelt hesitantly by his side. "You were having a nightmare."

Harry sat up, one hand over his eyes, the other rubbing his scar furiously. He quickly remembered his dream before it slipped away forever. Snape was in it… And it looked like his old Potions classroom…Voldemort cursed Bellatrix.

Then his scar burned with such intensity it took moments for him to realise that he wasn't in his own world.

And what intrigued Harry most, was that without the unicorn blood, Voldemort's power couldn't work. He had no magic. He felt Voldemort's urgency and fear, and his disgust at his weakness.

Harry's excitement turned to fear.

"No," he shook his head as he vigorously rubbed his scar, "no, it can't happen here."

"What can't?"

"Just shut up!" Harry yelled.

What did it all mean? He had experienced the very same while he and Pettigrew's children stayed at his aunt's. When it happened the first time, his scar pain had only been a dull prickle.

Shouldn't the connection have ended upon arriving unceremoniously into this Mirror Universe? Maybe not, but just thinking about the dynamics of Mirrors and dimensions was making other parts of his head hurt now.

"I'm sorry," James said as he backed away.

"Really, it's nothing you need to know about." Harry pressed his fingers on his scar, feeling guilty.

"Well it looks like the worst of it is over." James's eyes flicked over him and he grimaced.

"What?" Harry snapped.

"You're bleeding. I'll need to call in that Atoner."

He groaned when he noticed the blood stains on his bed sheets. Then the pain hit him. "God, it feels like I just got whipped a minute ago."

"Strip off and lay on your stomach," James pulled out a towel from the closet as he peeled off his clothes, hissing in pain.

Harry noticed the stubble on James's face and the dark circles under his eyes as he folding the towel over. It looked like he had not slept properly for weeks. "You should go back to your family now."

"Soon, once I know you're all right."

He gripped his pillow tightly and stifled a yell when James gently soaked up the blood.

"I spoke with Dumbledore today. He really wants to see you."

"Well I don't," Harry groaned into the pillow.

"I told him as much. He's left you something, a tin of biscuits. I put it on your bedside table."

Harry glanced over to the tartan tin lying innocently on his bedside table. He didn't need to eat the biscuits to resume his connection with his Mirror now.

Every night since arriving at Remus's house, Harry had successfully ignored the Mirror connection by shattering the mirror with an object that would break the connection. Doing this, however, meant he had to deal with his own nightmares, and now, visions of Voldemort.

James stood up, muttered a Pain Numbing charm over Harry's body and retreated to call Cotter.

Harry stared at the tin of biscuits, then exercising his new magic, opened the window and threw the box out. Then a few cushions and various trinkets had decided to fall out of the window too. Ever since he had absorbed Bellatrix's power, his own was much stronger, but unfocused. It was like he needed to learn magic all over again.

He would need to learn how to contol his power sooner rather than later.

(******)

Michael was angry. Nobody was treating him with respect and the truth he deserved. He kept asking questions to various Order members about his father, but they all ignored him now.

He knew Christopher was sick of his constant complaining. However, what other choice did Michael have than to lament? No one was giving him the answers he wanted.

Chris rolled his eyes when Michael punched the side of his armchair in frustration after he had confronted his mother again, only to be shouted at.

"Just give it up. They'll tell us soon."

"I want to know now! We've been in the dark about everything! Why are you all so blasé about this?"

"Maybe," Ron spoke, sitting on the couch with his legs over the side, "there's a reason why you're in the dark about this. Has it occurred to you that what they're doing is really important with the war and stuff?"

Michael scoffed. "I'm almost of age."

"Three years off of it more like."

"You're a member of the Order," he snapped back. "I bet you know something." Michael knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn't care.

He kicked away an abandoned cushion on the floor and began pacing the living room, glimpsing out of the window every now and again. Outside, hundreds of tents still stood like manmade mountains. Some swayed in the strong autumn breeze. Kids were running about; some on brooms playing games. A snitch zoomed lazily near the windowsill, before it disappeared.

Ron sat up. "I actually don't know a lot about what happens in the Order, and I think that's a good thing too from a strategic point of view. You've seen your dad around. He's okay."

The few times Michael had seen his father were during his school lessons, and this made him feel like he wasn't his son anymore, just his student.

Ever since the battle in Godric's Hollow, they weren't a proper family anymore, and he rarely saw his parents together. In fact he has never felt so alone in his life. Chris didn't confide in Michael much, preferring to bottle his feelings in, and Jessica didn't understand much of what was happening around her. He didn't have anyone else to really talk to.

"I need to get out of here," he mumbled.

If Sirius was still alive, Michael could've talked to him. He was the only one that he would turn to when he didn't want to talk to his parents. Thinking about Sirius brought back the sadness, so he took in a deep breath and trudged up the stairs in search of Jessica who was most likely playing with Ginny's old toys.

The upstairs quarters was almost deserted, and Michael could hear the clanking of plates and cups from the kitchen below where some of the Weasleys were still having breakfast. His mother had quickly eaten her food before rushing upstairs to finish her chores.

He passed their bedroom and Michael noticed whispering from the room. He backed up, pressing his ear against his bedroom door and heard his mother talking.

Expertly, he opened the door so quietly that not even a mouse would have been spooked. Even though the door was opened just a crack, he could see the blazing purple flames in the fireplace and the egg-shaped head of his father within the flames.

His mother knelt by the hearth. She must have been in a rush to go upstairs to speak with him, that she stupidly didn't put a Silencing Charm on the door. Michael smiled deviously, because maybe now, he'll learn something important.

"So his back wounds reopened again?"

"Yep, looking as fresh as the day he was whipped."

"The poor boy," she shook her head. "How is he feeling?"

"He's a little down—but they're cursed wounds, Lily, and Cotter knew this was going to happen."

"Should I come?"

"No, don't bother, he's sleeping anyway. Cotter won't let him out of bed for a few days."

His mother sighed. "He's been through so much. This is just another set back for him."

"I know, but he's angry. You know, his anger, his secrecy… we never realised the signs for what they were with Harry. I'm starting to worry about this boy now. I want him to pull through."

"You shouldn't worry, James. This boy isn't our son. He's angry and hurt because of what happened to him. You were the same when Charlie died, it doesn't mean you turned evil."

Michael's heart was pounding in his ears so much that he could barely hear the whispers anymore. Who was this person his parents were talking about?

"Yeah, I suppose so. He's a good kid, but he's in that phase now."

"Well, you'll have to help him pass it. Harry didn't, but he never wanted our support. He only had the Death Eaters to guide him."

Michael bit his lip. He couldn't contain his questions anymore, and with one brash move, he entered the room.

"Who are you talking about?" he said confidently.

His mother whipped around in shock and his father scowled. He could see his father's jaw tensing as his mother checked out the door, before closing it sharply.

She took in a deep, calm breath. "How much did you hear?" her voice was smooth, but Michael knew her anger was about to explode.

"Most of it, I think..." He crossed his arms determined not to be swayed, determined to get the truth out of his parents. "I want to know—"

"A boy your father rescued from Grindelwald is recovering in an Order household."

"Is he like Harry?"

"Yes, he is a Mage."

"What's his name?"

"Michael, you don't need to know all this information."

"I just feel so left out, Mum. Just tell me."

His mother's stern posture relaxed slightly. "Sweetheart, this is war. This is serious stuff we're dealing with—"

"I am not a child! So stop speaking to me like one."

She took a step back and regarded him in silence. "You're right… however, this isn't a game about finding out the truth and why we're lying to you about it. It's not about that, you can fight, yes. I know you can, but there is a lot you still need to learn."

"Then teach me."

"What do you think everyone's been doing, Mike? Fluffing around?" his father said indignantly. "You need to start focusing on your studies, than wasting time disrupting classes and writing dirty limericks on the blackboard."

"Your father is right. We are protecting you by giving you the best chance to just be a kid—"

"You always let Harry do whatever he wanted! You let him go on missions alone or with Dumbledore."

He must have said the wrong thing because his mother was on the verge of tears. In the fire, Michael heard his father swearing under his breath.

"And… and that's why I can't let you go. I can't let it happen again."

"Mum, I—"

"We let Harry go because he is an integral part of this war—more than your father and I. But you're not. Please Michael; don't rush into anything, because we…" she put a hand to his cheek, "don't want to lose you, like we lost Charlie and Harry."

Then all he could do was look down at his dirty sneakers, because he couldn't stand staring into his mother's watery eyes. "I'm… I'm sorry." It took a great deal to say it. He felt terrible for storming in like that, for all the pent up emotion he'd been feeling for many weeks now, for making his mother relive some of her worst memories.

"I'll be back, Mike, real soon." His father nodded.

Amidst the heavy punch of guilt, he felt elation. They were going to be a family again.

He walked back into the living room, hand in hand with Jessica after finding her, and sat down to a game of chess with Ron.

Ron had barely moved his knight, when Dumbledore entered, serenely, wearing Aqua robes.

"Good morning boys and girls."

"Sir?" Ron said surprised. So were Michael and Christopher as they stared at the wise old Hogwarts headmaster.

"Mr Weasley, may I have a word with you in private?"

"Me?" Ron asked, in shock, again with that tone of surprise.

"It won't take long as I have a very busy schedule. Sometimes I wish I had the time to play a game of chess."

"Why do you need me?" Ron questioned, getting up slowly.

"This concerns a small matter which I would greatly appreciate your expertise with."

"But I'm not an expert in anything."

Dumbledore smiled. "Come, let's talk."

Intrigued, Michael looked back and forth between a bewildered Ron, who he was sure, had never had such attention from the headmaster.

Michael wondered what was going on as he watched the wizards retreat out of the house.

(******)

It took four days before the Atoner let Harry out of bed again.

"How often is this going to happen?" he asked as Cotter unrolled the crisp bandage around him. His stomach was grumbling. He was actually hungry for a change.

"Cursed injuries are always difficult to predict. But seems like strenuous activity reopens them."

"This is something I really don't want happening again."

She gazed sternly at him. "There is a fair chance it will. I think we'll need to apply that healing salve three times a day to your back now. How are the other cursed wounds?"

"It's just painful sitting down," he mumbled with embarrassment.

"Look, I know it's hard, Potter." The Atoner stood up, and then helped him pull on a shirt. "I was there and I've seen a lot. You're not the only one who suffered because of us."

"Yeah, but you're one of the good guys."

"I wish I was."

"Why do you think you're not?" Harry asked. "You stole potions to give to Ministry fugitives, big deal! You should see some of the stuff I've done. You never wanted to torture people."

She was silent for a few moments. "I did things to the prisoners as well. I'm sure your Mirror would like to kill me." She shook her head, disgusted with herself. "Being a part of a group of criminals who have no qualms in peoples sufferings was frightening. I did what I was told. It was either that or be imprisoned myself."

"What made you join the Order?"

"I watched an old friend be placed beneath the trapdoor. She died soon after and I didn't do anything about it. I knew she was innocent; she couldn't hurt a fly let alone poison the prominent ministry official. Umbridge later took his title. I hated myself for what I had become. I'm a Healer, not a torturer."

Harry placed his hand over hers as she helped zip up his hoodie. "You're not one of them."

She smiled. "Thank you." However, he had the odd feeling that she was humouring him.

"Agnes, I'm serious."

"You're so different to him."

"When did you realise I wasn't my Mirror?"

She began placing redundant potions and dressings back into her carpet bag. "Minimal scars on your body and none I had never seen before. As a Healer, I knew it's impossible to erase curse scars. Willis cottoned on, and asked me about it, but instinct told me to lie. Dumbledore of course, refused to say anything about you and Kingsley laughed at me."

"Dumbledore wanted me there."

"I know. I knew you were definitely an imposter when you fought against Brodes. Your Mirror never did that."

"I had to fight back. How can anyone not fight that?" He gulped back his words. He couldn't talk about it, not even with Cotter. It was still too raw and painful and humiliating. He tried fighting back, because it made the guilt and shame easier to bear. "Why didn't he?"

"Potter was a broken boy before he entered Azkaban, and whatever the Atoners did, he submitted. He only started to retaliate during exercise in the last months he was held captive. I don't know what he wanted to do, but I suspect he just wanted to push them as far as he could before they'd kill him."

Harry gazed out the window into the grey misty landscape. "What makes you think he was broken before Azkaban? He was a high ranking Death Eater. He would've had all the rewards and gratitude from Voldemort."

She stared at him. "Because he greeted prison like it was his home...It was almost a reprieve for him."

(******)

A little dazed after his conversation with the Atoner Harry walked into the kitchen and with surprise, he found Lily and James talking.

His heart skipped a beat. She looked up, green eyes meeting his. Her grey-streaked hair was up in a bun. The crease on her brow just moments ago, relaxed at the sight of him, and she smiled.

"Harry!"

James turned around, "Come, take a seat, mate."

"Er, I hope I wasn't intruding."

"Don't be ridiculous," Lily piped, pulling a seat back for him. "So Agnes has given you the all clear?"

"For now," he said as he sat down carefully.

How he had wished and dreamt of a scene like this in his own world: both his parents smiling and eager to talk with him. He wanted this moment to last forever.

"I was going to come up and see you," she said.

Harry flinched when Lily brushed the hair from his eyes.

"You're looking much better," she said softly, as she gently straightened the crooked collar of his shirt.

"Thanks. I feel heaps better."

"Hungry?" Lily asked.

"Famished in fact."

James hopped from his seat as though he had suddenly sat on hot coals. "I'll make you a sand-"

"No, I'll do it," smiled Lily.

"Ahh, no. Do you remember the last time you made a sandwich? It fell apart before I could bite into it."

"You said it tasted wonderful!" Lily said, mortified.

Harry chuckled to himself.

James was buttering up the bread when he replied quietly, "I was just being polite..."

"Hmmmph!"

Then Harry noticed that the house was quiet. "Where is everyone?"

"Remus took the kids to the stream. I haven't had many chances to talk to my wife alone." James winked. "Every time I do, I'm interrupted."

"Really? I should go then."

James put his hand on his shoulder when Harry tried to get up. "No, sit down. Most of our conversations revolve around you." He looked towards Lily as he set a plate of food down. "Harry, I won't be able to stay here much longer. I'll be leaving tomorrow night."

"That's good. I want you to focus on your family."

"Our children suspect something and we can't keep lying to them about it," Lily said, curling her lip. "They wonder where their father sleeps at night and all the secrets. Michael especially resents it all."

"Sneaky bastards, just like me," James added with a crooked smile.

Lily frowned. "The fact is we can't have our boys find out what is really happening. Besides, we've got to get our lives back on track—"

"As if I had never arrived," Harry interjected.

Her eyes widened. "No, sweetheart—well—in a way yes. I wish we could have met under different circumstances, but in order to sort things out with our son and win this war, we need to keep you a secret and carry on like you never existed."

He nodded and sat back, admiring his mother and father for just being alive. He would miss them deeply when he exited this hellish world.

"Will you be fine without me?" James asked.

The words weighed heavily in Harry's chest. "I have survived the last seventeen years of my life without my parents. Don't worry about me."

They grimaced, and Lily's eyes were suddenly teary.

The silence in the kitchen made Harry uncomfortable. "You need to get on with your lives, and the more time we spend together, the harder it's going to be when I finally leave."

"No, no, I'll pop over for dinner every other day." James smiled sadly. "I'll tell the kids I'm going on errands for the Order or something."

"'I'm looking forward to that," Harry replied.

(******)

Harry stared out of his bedroom window, deciding to stay in while James played Quidditch with Pettigrew's children before he left the next day. His clothes had already been packed up.

He was going to miss having his father as a room mate. He would miss the constant companionship. Their conversations, though serious, had given Harry a sense of grounding and belonging, something which he needed. In the past he had gotten some of it from Sirius, and others, but James was different. This was his Mirror father.

James was a little disappointed that Harry hadn't joined them for a game of Quidditch. But Cotter had instructed that he was in no fit condition for that sort of activity anyway. Nonetheless, he really didn't feel like playing, even though it was flying that made him the happiest, in a time where all he cared about was getting his ten scroll Potions essay done.

It made Harry's heart twinge when he told James that he was the youngest Seeker in a century. He watched James's eyes glow, with a huge grin plastered on his face as he raffled up his hair. He even opened the window to tell Remus, who had been sitting on the bench, the news.

Deep down Harry wished he was telling this part of himself to his own father.

As he watched Ashley zooming about very wobbly on an old Comet broom, he dozed off in his armchair. He only woke when there was a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Remus asked.

"Of course…"

He looked extremely ill and dejected, his voice trembling. There were visible scratches on his face and hands. The torment of being a werewolf, Harry thought.

"I have a visitor for you."

"Yeah," Harry said ominously.

Remus strolled in holding onto the furniture for support. Behind him there was a broad wizard with a beard that would've reviled Hagrid's. He held onto a battered looking leather satchel.

"This is Healer Nicodemus Spratt—"

"I don't need any other help."

"Mr Potter, I do not heal physical injuries. I heal the mind." He beamed.

Heal the mind? "Oh that! Right... right." He felt really incomfortable now. Harry could see the Healer's smile beneath his great, brown beard.

"As a Mind Healer, I help people who are going through some rather rough patches. I have already seen some of your prison cellmates."

"Yeah well, there's nothing really wrong with me," Harry huffed. Did this Healer know who he really was? "The kids outside need you more than me," he said, thinking about Ashley's drawings and Tony's bitterness towards everyone and the world. "I am eager to take the potion that'll help."

"I will be seeing them shortly."

"Ahh… I'll be leaving you two for a bit of privacy," Remus interrupted. He walked out of the bedroom, giving Harry a half apologetic, and half, it's-for-the-best-you-know look.

The Healer cleared his throat before sitting down on the other bed. Harry watched the wizard wearily as he pulled out his glasses from his bag and a leather notebook. Spratt wrote down the date which a flourish, something which reminded Harry of Gilderoy Lockhart. Not a good sign, he thought.

Spratt placed the book on his lap and looked up, smiling. "Mr Potter—er, may I call you Harry?"

"Yes."

"You can call me Demus—"

"Do you know who I am and what I've done?"

Demus twirled his plain quill slowly. "You are a Death Eater, Harry."

"Why am I here?"

The Healer shifted a little. "I wasn't given the details. I don't ask questions of that nature. I just do my job and I am bound by secrecy."

But Harry saw the hesitancy behind Demus's bright eyes. The Healer began scribing into his little notebook and he wondered whether this wizard could be trusted.

It was with this thought that he felt strong magic surrounding the Healer. Puzzled and vigilant, Harry looked at the wizard closely and discovered the remnants of a charm. Entwining red and white ribbons were glowing Demus's right arm.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head vigorously. His growing Mage ability was playing tricks on him. When he opened his eyes again those glowing ribbons had disappeared.

The Unspeakable Vow…

"It's a lovely day outside. This is the longest I've seen a day without mist for a few weeks now. I also noticed that some friends of yours are playing Quidditch," he said, staring out the window to the spot Harry was watching.

"I've been told you are a good play—"

"Was…"

"Do you think you cannot play again?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe one day... when I can sit on a broom again."

The Healer closed his notebook, something which relaxed Harry slightly. "Why do you not want me here?' Demus asked.

He rolled his eyes impatiently. "Look, I just don't need to pour out my heart to someone like you. I just want to take that potion Remus told me about."

"I won't prod you for information. I'm not here to learn about your darkest secrets, Harry. I just want to help you move past these events you've experienced. We will go through some techniques to use at first, and then I will give you a potion. These will help you move on."

"I'm fine. I don't need everyone making a fuss over nothing."

Demus clasped his hands. "Do you think it's nothing?"

Harry didn't know what to think, except that he wanted to escape this horrible nightmare of world.

"I've been told about your dreams… You had a recent panic attack—"

"Panic attack? I saw a door which reminded me of my cell. That wasn't a panic—"

"But do you want these to continue?"

It took a moment to realise that Demus wasn't patronising him. He was genuinely curious how Harry would react to such a question.

"No, of course not."

Demus nodded. He stood up and walked over to the shelf by Tristan's bed. "What on earth is this bizarre looking device?" He asked, staring into the reflective television screen. "It is the most useless mirror I've ever seen!'

"It's a television."

The Healer turned back, surprised. "Apparently the pictures move."

Harry told him which button to press, and the Healer fell back onto Tristan's bed stunned, as the music and sound from a series blared into their ears.

"Remarkable! They've managed to capture sound as well!" the Healer trilled. "We haven't been to do that with our pictures. Their movements aren't repetitive either."

Harry was starting to warm up to this Healer. He definitely wasn't like Lockhart. Demus reminded him of Arthur Weasley's curiosity for all Muggle things.

"So, how are you feeling?" the Healer asked, as he turned the television off.

"Alright, I guess." Harry shrugged.

"Give me three or more emotions you are experiencing at this very moment."

"Why?"

"Pretend it is a game."

Harry glared at the broad, hairy Healer. "I feel—I can't do this."

"I'll start then… I feel compassion, curious, determination."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is just stupid."

"Yes I know," the Healer snorted. "But you can do this."

Harry sighed loudly.

"I know you can. Go on."

He gave in. "I feel… listless. Hurt. Pain."

Demus nodded encouragingly. "Anything else?"

"I feel anger and humiliation every day."

Harry felt as though the floodgates were opening in his body. He could almost feel the tension releasing, felt the burden in his veins pulsing out like his blood. "I feel as though I'll never be happy again."

The Healer suddenly stood up, eyes wide, frightened.

The room was pulsing, furniture vibrated, things on the shelves started floating, portraits rattled and the bedroom light swung.

Without realising what was happening around him, Harry continued. "I feel as though every bit of dignity was taken away from me—I feel rage."

Demus backed himself against the wall in shock, holding onto his wand, and Harry did not understand why, until he saw the reflection on the Healer's glasses.

Surrounding him was a black aura. He saw it all round his body: the blackest of black rays resembling smoky swaying arms, like seaweed would in the roughest seas. And they pulsed, with the beat of his heart, and with the rage he felt.

Harry had evoked his new power with only his darkest feelings. Looking around, the magical cyclamen which Lily had given him started to die. Its once colourful flowers turned black and withered in front of his eyes.

27. The Phase

The Phase

"You're mine, Harry. Your girlfriend knows it and you know it. You'll always be mine."

"NOOOOO!"

After a sharp intake of breath, the darkness was replaced by the morning light. Harry heard laughter. Awake now and panting, he realised that laughter was different and kinder to the one in his terrible nightmare, and it belonged to Ashley

He got up and walked into the bathroom. Holding the sides of the basin, he caught a glimpse of his pale face in the bathroom mirror.

"Get a fucking grip on yourself!"

"Lovey, it's too early in the morning for that sort of language, thank you," the mirror replied.

Glaring back, he splashed his face with icy, cold water and got on with the day. He limped into the kitchen, cane rapping on the tiles. He was still slow and awkward moving about. Sometimes Harry felt he was eighteen turning eighty-eight.

The Pettigrew children were eating and Remus was reading a couple of books, while James was hard at work cooking. The smell of crisping bacon and eggs made Harry's stomach grumble. Bread was toasting on the grill and sausages were sizzling in the pan.

Harry was going to miss his Mirror father's cooking. Since Lily wasn't the best cook in the world, James had to learn fast, and he prided himself at it. Sometimes he and Remus would have arguments on the best way to cook Yorkshire puddings, or which potato was best for roasting.

"Harry's here!" Ashley yelled over her porridge.

"Really? Where?' James joked, with half a sausage hanging out of his mouth. He checked under the table. "Oh bless my eyes it's Harry Potter." He winked as the little girl laughed.

"Morning everyone," Harry yawned as he sat. Remus smiled weakly, sipping the all too familiar Nutrient Potion.

"Are you still recovering from the last full moon?" Harry asked with concern. It was more than a week ago and he still looked very peaky.

"I think it was the added stress with your rescue and arrival."

Harry really wished he wasn't a burden on these Mirrors.

"He's all right." Tony said. He was half interested in eating his breakfast.

"Here you are, Harry," James said, instantly placing a plate laden with breakfast in front of him.

Sprawled on the middle of the table was a Muggle newspaper. The headline on the front revealed that Cork was in ruins. Harry saw the picture of huge fires engulfing the landscape and terrified Muggles running from the scene. Tony seemed hypnotised by the picture. A large Dark Mark hovered high in the sky above the smokes and flames. Tony turned the page and Harry caught an article that three U.N members, from France, Switzerland and Spain had gone missing after a Muggle conference in Europe. There were also rumours those three Muggles had acted strangely and had to be removed from the meeting.

"The European Muggles have voted against sending help to Britain, in any form, again. No surprises there," remarked James, as he reached over for the orange juice. "Too many have been hoodwinked."

"I for one don't like the idea of Muggle warfare being involved. It's bad enough we do have the occasional air raid by the armed forces." Remus sipped his potion. "Every time they hit something there are no Death Eaters present—they just Disapparate before the bombs hit."

Harry looked closely at the picture. "Is that Kingsley in the background?"

"Yeah, he sometimes infiltrates the U.N, or NATO, just to make sure there aren't any security breaches, but..."

"They have been breached in other ways," James replied. "We think the Muggles have been controlled for years and there are spies in all their governments, both Death Eaters, and Scrimgeour's old agents."

"Yeh Remus told me everything about Scrimgeour. Besides, I think we're beyond the point of fixing it."

"Our priorities have changed course in terms of the Muggles, but we getting the Europeans Ministries on board now, they've finally pulled their fingers out of their arses." James sipped his juice before continuing. "They're all worried."

"Still controlling the Muggles has wrecked the British economy, pushing it into deep recession. The Muggle government has pleaded for help, and all they get is a bunch of Aurors cleaning up whatever mess the Death Eaters and Dementors leave behind. A lot of people have immigrated to safer countries."

"Are there Death Eaters abroad?" Harry asked.

"Thousands," James said gravely. "The Berlin Minister was found dead yesterday."

Remus nodded. "It was most likely the influence of the Imperious Curse that made her kill herself."

"And these government Muggle disappearances are very bad. It's spreading fear fast."

"Why now though? Twenty-eight years of hell and now they're worried?" Tony asked.

James scratched his head. "It's because Grindelwald is forcing Voldemort to act on a bigger scale. For all these years Voldemort would push and prod in secret. But it's what he was doing every few days that was tipping the scales in his favour."

"Like what?" Harry said.

Remus took another sip of his potion. "Every few days, he'd outnumber one random family with a hundred Death Eaters. The Order never knows who to really protect."

"So after all these years, it's never been a stalemate war. Voldemort would eventually have most of the Wizarding population forced onto his side," Harry frowned, "and the Order flushed out."

"It's a slow process, but it was working. However, Grindelwald's forced him out of the woodworks and to change tactics. Now the Death Eaters in Europe, after decades of planning, are ready to attack on a major scale."

Tony clanged his fork on the table, startling them. "Right, enough about war, let's just eat," he mumbled.

"Yes, you're right... Is everything okay, Harry?" Remus asked.

He nodded and stared into his scrambled eggs.

"Healer Spratt will be coming shortly," Remus said. "He wants to see Tony first and then Ashley." The children scowled.

Harry was glad they were getting help. He learned that they had escaped the more horrific forms of conditioning under their Mentor by doing exactly what she wanted them to do. They were lucky, as Bellatrix thought they were talented. Most children taken by the Notorious Thirteen were worse off than the other Conditioned: broken until their every thought was robotic, and they were willing to die for Voldemort. Many died before they graduated from there sickening training.

"Harry, do you want to continue with your sessions?"

He held his fork in midair and closed his mouth, quickly losing what little appetite he had. "After what happened the other day?"

"Yes. Your feelings are manifesting themselves, but you should continue."

James returned to the stove to turn the frying bacon. "Harry, you're just feeling a lot. Besides, you've entered the Dark phase."

"Yes. You are developing your power unusually fast, but this is because you've entered a Mirror Universe and your Mirror is alive here." Remus tapped the books in front of him.

"Yeah, we're creating equilibrium. What are you reading?" Harry tried to decipher the faded gold Latin title of the book and the others that Remus had.

"I'm researching about Mages and Dumbledore's given me the task to try and find information about how to get you back home too. These books talk about the most basic information."

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully.

"Basically, it's things you would've learnt about in sixth and seventh year... they don't go into detail. They're too sanitised."

"Because all this is seriously restricted information, Remus," James said as he seasoned the frying food. "Could you imagine if we knew the magic to create a Portkey to transport us into a—"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, James. We may have been brilliant, but not that brilliant."

"Speak for yourself." He waved the spatula in his face. "If Sirius was still alive... he..." James fell silent and let the sizzle of the fry up mask his lost words and feelings.

"Well," Remus cleared his throat, his eyes suddenly watery, "I think I might need to sneak around looking for new materials."

"Maybe we should ask Snivellus to stroll through the Restricted Section—"

"Don't call him that anymore." Remus reprimanded before he snapped the book shut. A small ball of dust shot into the air. "How about you watch my bacon?"

"How about you get off your furry arse and help me?"

Harry played with his food. "Er, the thing is, if—if I'm in this stupid phase, I'm worried I'll end up like Harry."

"Don't," James spat, "start comparing yourself with my son. You're different!"

"Yeah Harry, I think you're way better." Ashley smiled.

(******)

Harry could smell smoke which had probably drifted from the massive fire in Cork, when he headed outside to where Demus wanted to meet for their session. He felt nervous seeing the Healer sitting under a gnarled tree.

"Good Morning, Harry, sit down. It's a crisp day, but fresh air and nature does wonders to our souls."

"What, even with the smell of smoke from Cork?"

"Cork is far away, but you are here, fighting your own battle."

Harry curled the scarf tighter around his neck and buried his hands into his borrowed cloak.

"How have you been since our last encounter?"

"All right, I 'spose. I'm sorry about what happened—"

"It was an interesting display of magic." His blue eyes were cautious though.

Harry sighed impatiently as he saw an owl swoop past. "So what are we doing today?"

"I want to hear about your experiences—not what had happened, but how you felt during them. Would you be willing to do it?"

"Where do I start?" He laughed coldly.

"How do you feel about Azkaban?"

"How I feel about it?" he said angrily. "It was hell and I'm glad it's gone. I'm glad they're all dead—I'm happy he died the same way he tried to kill me!"

"Who?"

"That Atoner."

"His name?"

"Gregory Brodes," Harry roared. He stood up, his hands in tight fists.

He could feel a power sizzling within him. With horror, Harry jumped away from the spot he stood, watching the grass around his feet and the leaves of the branches near him yellowing, and dying. He wasn't absorbing their power, he was killing them. He moved away, as he did not want a repeat of what happened days ago.

"Tell me why?" Demus asked, eyeing the dying vegetation warily.

"It's… it's what they did to me."

"Let it free."

He ran an agitated hand through his hair and sat down, eyes trained on the dying grass.

"When they—I feel so disgusted with myself—so dirty."

Ginny… How could he ever look into her brown eyes after what he had been through? The nightmare he had just experienced rubbed salt into his wounds. How could he ever tell her and his friends about any of it? It had to be his dark secret.

"They took everything away from me. I'm so angry, so fucking angry!"

"What did they take?"

He watched a trail of ants which had stopped moving. The little creatures were suffocating, their legs flailing, and Harry watched them, suddenly intrigued how far his power could go.

Die...

NO! He shook his head vigorously. He was not that sort of person.

He looked back at the ants. He didn't want them to die, but his power was beyond his control with all the emotions he was experiencing. He stormed off; hoping some of the ants would survive, hoping his magic would calm itself, hoping to stop his thoughts of death and murder.

He felt sick at the evil he felt like committing. The one thing he didn't want his power to do, he just let happen. He thought of his Mirror, desperate now to never become him.

"You're not alone," Demus yelled after him.

He stopped and turned around, feeling a breeze whip his hair about and a stronger smell of smoke and ash. Somewhere within his mind, there was a ripple… he could feel his Mirror's presence and it was making him shiver and nauseous. He grasped his head with both hands as his Mirror spoke.

"Do you feel it stirring? You can't escape it. It will swallow you whole."

Harry rushed out into the Dales, far away from the house and from Demus.

Their connection had grown so strong and he wondered what else his Mirror had seen. "GO AWAY!" he yelled, gripping his head.

His Mirror laughed before breaking the connection. Harry felt instant relief and realisation that he had fallen onto his knees, his cursed wounds pulsing in pain again.

Demus had followed him. "Harry, are you all right?"

"It's nothing. I just have a headache. I don't want to continue with this session."

"I'll go, Harry. But call me when you're ready."

Harry sighed and pounded his fists into the dirt around him. For awhile he sat there staring at the green hills until the Dementor mist came back.

He went back into the house hours later, after a lot of soul searching, but the answers he wanted were nowhere to be found.

James had prepared a lovely roast lamb with mint peas and gravy. Harry just played with his food as his Mirror father joked around with the children. It was his last day living with them before moving back with his family, and Harry wanted to make the most of it, but all he could think about was the evil growing within him.

When it was finally time for James to leave, as promised, Harry didn't say goodbye. He gave his father a long heartfelt hug and stalked away back into his bedroom away from everyone, therefore, keeping them away from his harm.

(******)

"I'll miss you Harry…" A grin showed off Brode's immaculate white teeth. "We have the order to kill you."

The golden knife in his hand glowed in blue.

Harry gasped, but it was the screech of an owl that really woke him. When he opened his eyes, the figure standing at the foot at the bed looked like a demon. Harry froze, fear overcoming him. He regained control and sat up as the figure walked around the bed. Even in the darkness its green eyes shone bright.

"Go away." Harry switched the lamp on.

"You haven't entered my mind since you were at Snape's.

"So?"

"So I thought I'd pay you a little midnight visit."

"Don't joke about it!" Harry hissed.

"Why haven't you entered my mind?"

"I'm sick of helping you. But since you're here now, I have some questions for you." Harry made himself comfortable.

"What are they?" the Mirror exasperated.

"You and Bellatrix?"

The Mirror rolled his eyes impatiently. "Nothing. I simply teased her for information on the cup: a tease, a kiss, the power of a strong seduction charm and play of words, nothing more. I was still a stupid naive Gryffindor trying to find answers, and then it spiralled out of control."

"And then you landed yourself in a bigger mess."

He nodded with a chuckle. "Dumbledore was right to be concerned… things got a little more serious. I hated her, and she hated me. I enacted my revenge, she enacted hers. Back and forth—cat and mouse." He ran a hand through his short hair. "She pleaded with our master to get me out of Azkaban… touching." He laughed.

"Did she really like you that much?"

"Nah. She just hated the fact her control over me was out of her hands. Didn't stop her from using other means."

"I can't believe this," Harry said, quite repulsed now.

"I have to admit, it was both fun and deadly playing with her."

"Was it you, though? Or was it the Dark phase?"

The Mirror sat on the bed, staring out of the dark window. "I suppose it was the Darkness thing. Thinking back on it makes me feel disgusted. The same way you feel now that you kissed her…" he smirked. "A great, dirty, dark secret... How would Ginny react when you tell her?"

The bile was creeping up his throat. "Ginny will never know."

"Won't she?" the Mirror questioned. "The love of your life must know your secrets, Harry. How will she react when she finds out that they fucked you…?" he smirked. "And even though you resisted, your body still betrayed you, making you enjoy it. Confusing isn't it?"

"You're a bastard—a sick, twisted bastard!" Harry snarled into his Mirror's face.

A surge of power released from his body before he could control it, and he didn't care, he wanted to hurt him.

The Death Eater collapsed to his knees, in pain. "STOP!" the Mirror's eyes flashed in the lamplight. "Stop using your power."

"At least I have people who love me," Harry yelled, ignoring his pleas, relishing his power to hurt. I could kill you now… then I will hurt Dumbledore too… "Who do you love? Who loves you?"

"HARRY, CONTROL YOUR MAGIC!"

The Mirror doubled over in pain with his hands clutching his chest. The sweat on his brow covered his fake lightning bolt scar. He lifted his hand and Harry was ricocheted to the other side of the room, landing with a thud.

Harry's encircling emotions and power ceased suddenly with that blow. He saw his Mirror struggling to get up.

The Mirror laughed. His chuckles were icy and sharp. "You want to kill me, Harry. I can feel it. You want to make sure Dumbledore pays for everything. So do I... Let's do it together!"

At that moment Harry didn't know what he truly wanted.

"He deserves to suffer after what he put us through."

"No!" Yes.

"You're in denial," the Mirror said. "You want people hurt."

He felt the emotions twisting within him. What the hell was happening to him? He fumbled onto his feet, massaging his bruising chest.

The wizard sneered. "Why don't you? You think you'll become just as evil as I am? It's revenge, Harry, its justice and you deserve it."

He shook his head. "I can't—"

"You wanted Bellatrix to suffer when she killed Sirius. You're happy the Atoners are dead."

"That's different!"

"Why?" the Mirror asked, "Because they're the enemy? Sometimes, evil is right under your nose and you're too oblivious to notice it because you care about them. You need to cut it off, before it kills you first. Dumble—"

"I WILL NOT!" Harry yelled. "He did it for a reason—"

"So you're just going to do whatever he says?"

"What about what you did to me, huh? That was worse!" Harry yelled, feeling the rage once more. "YOU LET ME GO TO PRISON SO YOU COULD DISAPPEAR! YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!"

"So what, it would have been better if you did!"

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Harry was done. He was sick of his Mirror and how unremorseful he was. He wanted to hurt him so badly.

"Kill me." The boy seemed amused.

Harry shook his head. "No."

"You're scared of giving in to the Dark phase. I did once."

"I don't want to turn out like you."

"There is a thrill when you kill for the first time. It stays with you for the rest of your life. It nurtures your growing powers."

"I don't want to do that." Harry shook his head.

"You'll be more powerful than the rest of this squabbling wizard population. Think of what you can do? You can become greater than Voldemort himself."

"I'M NOT LIKE YOU!" Harry retaliated.

"Are you sure?" He stopped laughing, his expression serious now. "You're losing yourself to the Darkness, just like I did. It will be spectacular."

"I'm different. You're scum—traitor! Nothing—"

"PROVE IT TO ME—"

"Nobody loves you!"

Mirror Harry's expression slowly changed and Harry could see his features evolving from that of a boy whose soul had been warped into something barely recognisable, into a vulnerable and shattered person.

"You father doesn't love you. Whatever he said while you were with Grindelwald is just a plan to get you on our side again. But he will never love you again. He felt revolted by you."

"You're lying!" the Mirror spat. "I saw a different side of my dad when he was there—"

"Your mum—you devastated her. She wishes you died instead of Neville—"

"Stop this!" Mirror Harry shouted. There was anguish and terror in his eyes now.

"Your parents wish I was you. Your fear has come true."

"YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR!"

Checkmate, thought Harry, thrilled. The ever growing power rippled within him again.

The boy doubled over in pain again. This time, Harry wasn't using his power to hurt him, willingly or not. He hesitantly took a step forward, and when the Mirror looked up, his face was red with fury and tears.

"I love…" he whispered.

"Who? Bellatrix?" Harry mocked.

"I still love… more than you will ever know." Mirror Harry inhaled deeply. "I miss him so much," he whispered.

Charlie… Harry held his breath. This was the moment he was waiting for. It was a chance to get information out of him. "What happened with that Obsidian Stitch? You had it once."

Surprisingly, the Mirror answered quickly. "When I knew it was evil, I tried to get rid of it." He seemed exhausted now as he sat in the armchair, gazing absent-mindedly at Tristan's bed now. "My father was sleeping here, wasn't he?"

Harry nodded. "If you got rid of it, then why are you so desperately trying to find it again?"

"I'm not trying to find it."

"But you wrote about—"

"I don't want it found. I got rid of it for a reason."

"You're talking bullshit!"

"Think whatever you want. You're a nuisance. You're nothing, but a weak, fucked up wizard."

"I don't care about what you think of me. The fact that you're trying to throw me off track is suspicious enough," Harry continued. "If the Stitch isn't a werewolf cure, then what does it do? What happened when you touched it?"

"You're not going to give this up are you?"

"I'm supposed to be helping you, aren't I? Something happened to you before you got that teddy bear Horcrux—something so serious it broke your ties with Ron and Hermione."

The Mirror laughed. "It was a mission gone wrong in Bulgaria and I was so sick of Hermione pestering—"

"You're lying again," Harry spat. "If you want this war to end, then you better start telling me the truth."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," he purred.

"You—I swear—you have been a waste of my time! You change tact every minute. You either help me or not."

Mirror Harry laughed. "Don't be so high and mighty about it, you're slowly turning into me."

"I won't," Harry seethed with determination.

"Like I said, you need to show me you're not."

The silence around them was chilly.

"What is the Stitch?"

The Mirror swore. "The Stitch is a Dark power. When I touched it the first time I saw what I had become. The second time—I could feel it tearing my soul apart. I had only touched it for a second, but it was excruciating—worse than any pain I've ever experienced. I never wanted to see it again."

"Why did it feel like that? Was it actually ripping your soul?"

"My soul has already been torn," Mirror Harry said. "But yes, along those lines, the Stitch had ripped it further…"

This intrigued Harry. What was the Stitch's purpose? He watched his Mirror closely. "Then why did you want to find it again?"

Mirror Harry grew frustrated. "I told you, I don't. I know the Dark Lord does. That graffiti in Cell Number 13 was not written by me."

"You didn't write it?"

The Mirror cocked his head, calculating his next words. "You still haven't figured it out?"

"Well, why don't you give me a hint?"

Mirror Harry snorted. "I was delirious."

Then he remembered his Mirror being tortured by Voldemort. "So you failed your master, because you didn't want to give it to him."

"It is very important to the Dark Lord, but I'm not sure why yet."

"How did Voldemort find out?"

"Charlie asked dangerous people questions. He didn't want to chuck it."

"Is this why you really killed Charlie?"

"Yes, he was an annoying idiot in the end, and didn't know when the keep his mouth shut. He didn't know what evil he was dealing with, and he would've killed the whole family."

"Hang on…" Harry pointed, spearing the sentence in its wake. "Isn't it your mission to kill your family?"

"It is," the Mirror answered.

His gut feeling was telling him something else, but he didn't prod further, worried he'd end their newfound good terms. "Do you think this Stitch will help regain Voldemort's power?"

"Possibly." Mirror Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "So you've found out about his loss of magic, did you? That, I'm afraid, was my fault." And with those last words he disappeared.

"WAIT," Harry yelled into the air, "come back!"

He quickly woke, with his hand outstretched to the place Mirror Harry had been.

He blinked, startled that the connection was over. Harry pounded his fists into the mattress.

The bedroom door creaked open and Remus peered in. "Are you okay?"

Harry bit his lip, still staring at the spot Mirror Harry had disappeared, which had been somewhere between a pink drawing made by Ashley, emblazoned with glittering get well wishes, and a poster of the Holyhead Harpers.

His resolve broke down. "I—stay with me tonight."

Remus sat lightly on his bed. "What's wrong?"

"I spoke with Harry."

The werewolf seemed more curious than worried now. "And?"

He could've told him his frustrations straight away; instead, Harry told him what weighed most on his mind.

"I'm worried about this phase," he said. "I'm really scared I'm turning bad. I feel I am and I can't control it. I really want to hurt things—people." Harry remembered the time in fifth year when Voldemort had infiltrated his dreams and thoughts, and the stirring of evil he felt. This felt worse.

"Come downstairs."

Harry followed him into the kitchen. The florescent light overhead flickered and tinkled as it struggled to turn on. He made himself comfortable at the table, thinking Remus was going to make tea, but watched as he poured a healthy amount of Firewhisky into two mugs.

Harry still hadn't gotten used to the fiery stuff yet. He mistakenly took a gulp and coughed as it burned his throat and chest, making Remus laugh.

He smacked the mug back down, massaging his chest. "I've only drunk it a few times," he replied wheezily, watching Remus drink all of his in one go without any embarrassing reaction.

"Feeling better?"

Harry nodded, relaxing a little.

"While I can't find anything great written about Mages so far, all I can say is to look deep within your heart. What do you truly feel, Harry? Do you really want to hurt people?"

"Maybe."

"Think hard. Anyone would want revenge on those who have harmed them, myself included. But is it really what you want? Would you take that extra step to kill them?"

Harry didn't need to think about this. "No. I would rather they face justice."

"Then there's your answer."

"But I can't stop anything. Those feelings keep appearing and I find myself liking what I do. It's frightening."

"Harry, you need to understand the Dark phase you are experiencing."

"I don't even know how."

"A normal Mage wouldn't experience the amount of emotions you and Harry do. The problem lies with the trauma you have both experienced or inflicted. It just isn't the optimum period to be going through it."

"So the happiest of Mages will breeze through it?"

"Precisely… Now, since you are struggling to control it, think about it in a different way."

"How?"

"Imagine you're lost in a forest, and instead of finding a way out you are delving deeper within…" Remus uncorked the Firewhiskey and poured more into their mugs. "It's going to be scary, there'll be dangerous creatures and situations, but that forest isn't infinitive. If you keep pushing through, you will eventually discover the trees thinning and the dangers easing. You will find a way out."

"It feels like a test."

"Well, in a way it is. But you mustn't be scared of this phase, and you mustn't give in to your dark thoughts, or you'll end up being stuck in it just like Harry has."

"I definitely don't want that to happen," Harry sighed, sipping the whisky this time.

"A Mage is the least understood of all magical abilities. But it's the most powerful because as a Mage, you not only would've increased your power beyond measure, but you can manipulate and absorb the essence of all living things without killing it, and absorb the power of non-living things too. You'll also be able to share it. To be a fully fledged Mage means you need to be wise, controlled and selfless."

"But I don't know how," Harry blurted. "I never knew I was a Mage until a month ago. I thought I was just absorbing some of Harry's power due to my arrival here and the laws of Mirror Universes."

"But you are one." Remus clasped his hands together. "Harry, you'll need to learn and experience every aspect and perspective the world offers, from good and evil, life and death, water and fire, earth and air, flesh and essence. You will discover their secrets and their beauty by touch. You will be a part of everything and everything will be a part of you."

Just listening to Remus was boggling his brain.

"And to be a true Mage, you mustn't let any one of these aspects take control. Everything has to be a balance. Once you've mastered it, you will be indestructible… if you so wish. But I have heard that to be a true Mage you will need to experience death and therefore die. So it's a twist of the Deathly Hallows," Remus added with a smile.

"So a Mage spends the rest of their life training, only to graduate with death?" Harry snorted into his mug.

"Like I said, your ability is the least understood of all. I find myself struggling with its concepts."

"I don't want this ability. Just the thought of absorbing power, like I did with Bellatrix is—"

"Harry, absorbing power is one aspect which beginner Mages do to nurture the growth of their ability. It's not lasting. The true growth of their power happens from within, once you have conquered the Dark phase."

Harry sighed.

Remus gently pointed at Harry's heart. "Just don't be too hard on yourself. We aren't judging you. We are here to support you and that's going to make a huge difference."

"Thank you," Harry whispered. He felt such a great relief. "For someone who doesn't know much about Mages, you know quite a bit."

Remus smiled. "I have to admit these are Dumbledore's words not mine. He knew you would have trouble dealing with this, especially since you are experiencing it so rapidly."

"Have you reported everything I've said to you?"

"Yes, Harry. But Dumbledore, like everyone else who knows, doesn't know what the Obsidian Stitch does."

Harry explained all that Mirror Harry had said to him when he had touched the Dark object.

"All we know is that people have killed themselves because of it."

The clock chimed. It was two in the morning, but they were still talking. Remus cut them each a slice of sponge cake, licking the cream and jam off his fingers.

"There's something else bothering you, isn't there?"

He hesitated. "I have been talking with Harry since Azkaban, and I sometimes feel as though I'm getting nowhere."

"What's his demeanour like when you talk with him?"

"Sometimes I don't know which side of Harry I'll be encountering. One minute he'll help me, and then he's a complete asshole. He's like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde."

Remus had the sponge cake halfway to his mouth, but he seemed busier ingesting Harry's words than the food. "He's been like that since he was imprisoned. But do you see a glimpse of his old personality, like yours?"

He nodded. "Yeah, before the darker side takes over… I know he wants to change and fight this. And sometimes, like tonight, I can sense he is torn about what he should do. He's so hurt. He really hates Dumbledore, which I totally understand. He also gets really fired up when I talk about his family."

"What if," Remus started, swallowing some cake before continuing, "you have succeeded in helping him change and he is the Harry we've always known? What if he's just too scared to let anyone get close to him after all he's done?"

Harry had never thought about it like that. "Yeah, maybe…"

"He didn't kill Dudley when the opportunity arose. He maimed his little sister instead of killing her. He helped you survive your torture, in fact I know it had drained his life, because James, Dumbledore and Grindelwald had been worried he would not survive it. Harry must have known he could've died helping you."

"Really?"

"Yes… whatever happens within your connection is manifested, like his hands becoming burnt."

Harry remembered that. Harry peered beneath his pyjama top and saw a blossoming black bruise appearing over his heart.

"It seems as though he's protecting a secret. Because we all know he killed Charlie and opened the Chamber of Secrets, killed Muggles and tortured people. From what Ashley and Tony had described, Harry had also killed Peter."

"Okay, so he's protecting something, what's the point of it all? Why can't he just tell us? That's the only way he'll get closure out of this. Is he frightened to trust us?"

"Yes, that, and he's punishing himself for everything he's done."

Harry started swilling the amber liquid in his mug. "Well if he is, then he's been doing an exceptional job for years now."

"But he's done outstandingly well destroying Voldemort's power too! I would like to know how he managed it," Remus added with a sly grin. "And that's one good thing we should toast on before going back to bed.

"I suppose so," Harry said, thinking about how to destroy Voldemort in his world.

"Harry, what if he was testing you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Testing to see if you'd control your power and how far you've progressed? Mocking you to see how fired up you'd get within your phase? After all, you've done it to him tonight."

Harry bit his lip, thinking about his Mirror's sharp tongue and torments. "So you think that while I've been helping him through his phase, he's now helping me through mine?"

"I knew Harry well. At least the little boy I remembered and the boy who wanted to defeat Voldemort. If he's changed, then he'll be helping you."

28. Dumbledore's Gift

Dumbledore's Gift

"You seem distracted today," Demus observed.

"Just tired..." and a touch hungover.

Healer Spratt continued with the session, teaching Harry exercises and techniques to overcome the effects of his post traumatic stress.

Harry's mind drifted off like the kite flying in the distance. Harry heard Ashley yelling for Tony to run faster so that the kite would go higher.

The little girl seemed to be dealing with her conditioning and her parents' deaths better than Harry thought. Perhaps it was because he learnt that Tony had protected her from most of the Death Eaters harm, taking the brunt of it himself.

"I have a feeling I'd have better luck speaking with a stone wall."

Finally, with a great deal of exasperation, Demus gave up and let Harry go.

"Be back here tomorrow at the same time."

"Yeah," Harry replied over his shoulder.

The mist was a little thick this morning, and there was the lingering of smoke from more fires which had been lit by Death Eaters. This time the fires were in Chichester and Dorset, killing more Muggles. Harry refrained from asking what was happening, but somehow he'd always find out more than he wished too.

Harry stopped dead through the doorway of the living room, shocked to find Mirror Snape sitting there. "How did you get in here?"

Snape scowled, and so did he. He crossed his arms, when the Death Eater's eyes roved up and down his body as though amazed he was standing. "Lupin let me in, willingly."

The Death Eater stood up, sulking forward, stopping inches from Harry. Black eyes gazed into his, and Snape's hooked nose almost touched his. Harry could smell peppermint on his breath and smoke on his robes.

Harry took a step back, jolting, when his back hit the doorway.

Snape smirked. "You never thanked me for saving your ungrateful life."

"Because," Harry narrowed his eyes venomously, "I bet you did it out of the goodness of your heart."

Scowling, Snape returned to the couch and made himself comfortable again.

Then Remus strolled in, stunned, cutting through the icy air with a tray of tea and biscuits. "Ahhh… you're back… so soon?"

"What the hell is going on here?" Harry yelled angrily. "Why is he here?"

Snape stirred his tea as though this was a casual outing for him. "I will be teaching you defence tactics and techniques to control your power."

Harry shook a finger into Snape's sallow face. Suddenly all his memories of their Occlumency lessons flooded his mind. "You're going to stay away from me. I don't need you teaching me. Remus can—"

"Dumbledore has asked me to teach you."

"Why you?"

"You know why," Snape purred, taking a sip of his tea. "You know why. If you can conquer your magic and your emotions, you will survive."

"Harry, would you like some tea?"

And why was Remus so calm about this little arrangement?

"No. Look, I don't need to be taught Defence Against the Dark Arts. I'm proficient enough. I got an OWL for it. It's my power I need to harness."

"Potter," Snape's voice was smooth, almost a whisper. "You will use Defence, and I will use the Dark Arts, and if you're not good enough I may end up killing you."

"You've got to be kidding me?" Harry hissed, making his way to the other side of the room to stand near Remus.

"No, because war is not a game. People do not walk away from torture or near death unscathed. You are not in school anymore under the protection of teachers. Death is real, the Dark Arts dangerous and unless you are totally prepared, you will die."

"I've had enough training—"

"The reason I am here, is that Dumbledore fears you are ill prepared, nor had the time, nor the will and the attention span to acquire the necessary skills—real skills, Potter. You are mediocre at best. You get your feelings in the way, and if you don't sharpen up soon, you'll need to hope that you've got plenty of luck on your side to survive."

Harry clenched his jaw. Snape was right about that. His friends thought he was powerful, but the reality was he had had a lot of help and luck. His power was no match against wizened wizards.

Yet he wasn't going to give Snape the satisfaction. "I've experienced a lot of what the Dark Arts does."

"I'm sure you have, but an Expelliarmus can only get you so far," he mocked.

Damn Dumbledore! He should have never let him see his memories.

"Potter, you can accomplish so much more," Snape added. "If you end up half as proficient as your Mirror, the Dark Lord will have a real enemy to contend with, not an inexperienced young wizard trying to destroy him."

Snape almost acted as though Harry had some potential and it surprised him. Maybe he should give it a chance with this Mirror. He's after all, done more for Harry than the Snape has in his own world. "Okay, let's do this. I'm ready to start controlling this magic." But he was angry that Dumbledore had planned this without his permission.

"Are you well enough?"

Remus furrowed his brow. "No—"

"Yes!" Harry interjected loudly.

"Harry, I don't think your ready—"

"When do we start?"

Snape curled his lip. "In two days."

(******)

Brodes crouched down. The Atoner was clutching the wound to his stomach. He held the weapon between them with a chilling sneer on his face.

"Potter, let me tell you a tale about King Edward the second's death..."

Harry stared at the ceiling. His bed sheets were tangled around him and he was covered in sweat. He felt his mattress to make sure he was not in The Black Square, but lying comfortably in bed, before deciding to get up and wash while everyone still slept.

He brushed his teeth, remembering his dream—his memory in fact. It made his blood run hot with rage.

There was a sudden splintering of glass. Harry looked up into his own reflection and found a large crack running down the mirror, splitting his face in half.

"Oww! That hurt," the mirror exclaimed.

"Sorry," he mumbled, touching the mirror, using a simple Repairing Spell to mend it. But his magic also decided to repair the cracks in the tiles and ceiling as well.

His power was like a child's uncontrollable magic. He wasn't sure how he'd control it without a wand, and hopefully he'll find out when he'd meet Snape. After a day mulling over his impending doom with Snape, Harry was now curious and determined to learn this time. If he could become as powerful as his Mirror, then he'd have a chance to beat Voldemort back home.

Harry made his way down the yard and sat down by the old tree where Demus was. He already had his notebook opened.

"I want you to try some mental exercises to help overcome your problems in conjunction with the Tantibus Mentis Potion I will give you."

"Sorry, the what potion?"

"Tantibus Mentis is quite a volatile potion and dangerous if used incorrectly."

"I don't care, I'm ready."

"I think you will be well suited for it." Demus rubbed his chin. "You will pull through with only the occasional nightmare and stress triggers will cause no harm."

"When do I start?"

"Tonight. I will gradually increase the dosage to its peak in five weeks, and then I will reduce it for a further four weeks."

Harry shook his head. "I haven't got that time."

"I recommend you make that time. This is important, Harry, for you."

Before going to bed that evening, Healer Spratt carefully measured a teaspoon of a smoking lavender potion. And as its colour suggested, it tasted like lavender and cream. He didn't feel any different afterwards. He still felt hopeless and bleak.

As Demus left, Ashley peeked in, wringing her hands. Her brown hair was long enough to be tied back into two tiny pigtails now.

Her blue eyes scanned the bedroom hesitantly. "Ha-Harry."

"Hello Ash," Harry said, yawning. "What's up?"

"I was wondering… are you better?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Then, can you tell me a story?"

"All right, but only a short one, because it's past your bedtime." Harry took the girl's hand and led her back to her room where Tony sat up reading a comic book.

"Can it be a nice story with no scary things? I want a nice one to dream about."

He smiled, hoping the potion all three of them had just drunk would help too with his dreams tonight.

"Psssst."

Harry looked up at Tony.

"She likes anything with baby unicorns," the boy mouthed.

(******)

It was during his fifth session with Demus did Harry feel comfortable enough to start talking about what had happened to him.

"How did you sleep last night?"

"No different to any other night."

"A teaspoon of potion isn't going to get rid of your nightmares straight away. You will begin seeing a change in two days." The Healer's quill hovered over a blank new page of his notebook.

"What happens if your notebook falls into the wrong hands?" Harry asked.

"I write in code and use fake names. If this book is stolen, it will instantly burst into cursed flames," Demus replied. "Now, tell me a little more about Azkaban. What were the other prisoners like?"

The first person that popped into his head was Dung, and then Umbridge. He spoke about how Yaxley protected him, then about the female prisoner who died from a disease. Then he spoke about his disappointment in Dumbledore leaving him in prison and his Mirror betraying him, and then he wanted to talk about Brodes… before he realised what he had done. Harry looked up horrified. He'd revealed who he really was.

"I know who you are," Demus whispered. "Harry, it's natural to feel ill will against the people who have abandoned you, but Dumbledore did not wish to leave you there if there was another way he—"

"He used me... I just wish he had busted me out."

The Healer sighed. "Do you truly believe Albus Dumbledore could have? Do you believe that he could have walked you out of there without activating a dozen new deadly charms that surrounded the square?"

"No, but it still hurts to think how cold he was—how people's sufferings meant nothing in the grand scheme of things."

Demus closed his notebook and dusted away a fallen leaf on his shoulder. "He was such an inspirational teacher, his stories captivated us, and his magic awed us. He is charming, articulate and very intelligent… but he is also a Machiavellian and when the opportunity arises he will use his skills to out manoeuvre his enemies. Unfortunately that sometimes involves using people's lives."

"Like me."

"He had no choice but to leave you there."

"My Mirror?"

"That is a great guilt he carries."

"But do you agree, that if there had been a way for Dumbledore to rescue me, he still would have left me there?"

"What would you have done, Harry? If he rescued you, it would have severed your Mirror's relationship with Voldemort, therefore losing the war."

Harry fell quiet for a minute while processing his feelings about Dumbledore. If he had been in Dumbledore's shoes, what would he have done? "In retrospect, I still hate what happened, but I knew the plan, I knew I would eventually be rescued despite the dire circumstances I was in, so I can understand why he did it."

"But you mistrust him."

"Because I know he still needs my help, when all I want to do is go back home and fight my own war and see my friends. I wonder what else he needs from me."

"Perhaps you will, if you let him see you."

Harry nodded, knowing full well he couldn't keep ignoring Dumbledore.

"There's something else you want to talk about isn't there? You were about to tell me before you realised you had told me too much about yourself."

Harry opened and closed his mouth. The moment to talk about it had passed. He shook his head.

"I know it is something that has gnawed at your soul for awhile."

Harry inhaled deeply, gathering his courage. "Gregory Brodes..."

The Healer nodded gravely. "He was a despicable Ravenclaw in my year and a bully. He got caught dabbling in illicit trades and has done worse as an Atoner."

"Definitely worse." Harry exhaled his tensions, looking at anything but at Demus, worried that his emotions would manifest with his Mage power.

"Tell me about him."

"I don't want to… I'm just… I'm scared about my girlfriend ever finding out about…"

"Why?"

"I feel like I've betrayed her."

"You haven't." His eyes searched Harry's as though trying to make sense of the fear Harry felt. "You're not alone in this. However, I won't lie to you. Your closest friends will be horrified and shocked, but they will see through that in the end."

"I know," Harry mumbled. "She'll be there for me no matter what." Just like I was there for her after The Chamber of Secrets incident… "What about Bellatrix?"

"You were exercising your control over her. Don't be too hard on yourself. I would have done the same if I had to play the part."

By the end of the session he was exhausted, but also had found a little peace within himself. He knew this feeling wouldn't last, knowing that in the afternoon he'd be facing Snape.

Lunch was a quick affair. Harry left Ashley and Tony with Remus for their lesson in Transfiguration. Tony was becoming interested in the Animagus ability, but Remus was reluctant to teach him.

"He'll be near the shed," Remus spoke.

Harry watched Ashley trying desperately to turn a matchstick into parchment. It put a smile on his face.

"All right," he sighed, focusing back to his situation. "Ouch!" Harry cringed suddenly when his scar prickled with pain. Luckily, Remus didn't notice as he was trying not to get his eye poked out by Ashley's wand.

He was a little worried about his scar pain, which only meant bad things were about to happen.

Then Remus looked up, surprised he was still there. "Just remember you're still fatigued and wounded, so tell him if you need rest—"

"HA!" he laughed, ignoring his scar. "I won't tell him anything."

Remus frowned. "You're like your father."

"And Snape is Snape."

Finally, he trudged up the back garden and down a small hill. Behind a row of wild hawthorn, there was a little wooden shed where Snape would be waiting. But Harry stopped, knees buckling a little when his lightning bolt scar seared in pain. He rubbed it furiously. When the pain went, he hesitantly walked again, before the next wave of pain hit him with full force.

"Not here," Harry whispered to himself. He could see a figure standing outside the shed. Then the screaming in his head started.

His whole world drifted out of focus and the next thing, he realised his long white fingers were grasping the jaw of Professor Trelawney. Her eyes were rolling, and her face was covered in blood and tears.

"Sybil, what is the second prophecy about?"

"I—I—I don't know," she gasped. "Please, I don't know anything," she sobbed.

Trelawney screamed, when Voldemort tried to extract the memories, but all he could see, as he possessed Voldemort was flickers of muffled words and Dumbledore's rippling face looking shocked. There was nothing understandable to be plucked from her memory.

Voldemort kept trying. Soon Trelawney succumbed to his torture and fell unconscious.

"Potter?"

Harry felt a hard slap on his cheek and he dizzily opened his eyes to find Snape's face hovering above him, with the curtain of his hair masking out the bright light. He pushed Snape away and pulled himself up.

"What happened?"

"He's got Trelawney! He's torturing her—trying to extract information about a prophecy."

Snape's eyes locked onto his. "How do you know?"

"I see things."

Snape's eyes travelled up to his scar, and Harry instinctively covered it.

"We know the Dark Lord has Sybil."

"Why aren't you helping her?"

"I cannot intervene without giving myself away."

"What's this second prophecy about?"

"I don't know."

"But—but someone has to help her! He's going to kill her. He'll find out everything."

"Trelawney's prophecies were not her own to remember. She channels—is possessed by ancient spirits that divulge such knowledge. She is nothing but a vassal, and the Dark Lord will never get the information he seeks. Someone will rescue her."

"Who—?"

"Are you well enough to start or are you too weak?"

Harry got up with the aid of his cane, still a little flummoxed as to why no one was helping the seer. He ignored another jolt of pain from his scar.

He was staring down at Snape, who remained crouched on the ground.

Then he slowly stood up. He was taller than Harry and looked as though he took pleasure staring down now. With a swipe of his wand, the shed door opened. "Get inside. You're wasting my time."

Harry begrudgingly followed him in. His head was still swimming, and he thought that he may live to regret this. Wishing, that maybe, he should've put his pride to one side and called in Cotter to check him over, if it meant skiving off for one more day.

Snape switched the light on. What looked like a small shed from the outside was vastly bigger on the inside, just like the tent he had kipped in with Ron and Hermione.

Snape took off his travelling gloves and cloak, placing them neatly on an old rocking chair.

Harry stood near the door, near the escape route. "Er…" He tried clearing his mind for the onslaught of curses and hexes. His scar was still aching.

"Ready yourself."

"You know, I don't have a wand—"

"You don't need it. Harnessing your power without a wand will make you stronger, something which your Mirror failed to accomplish."

"I think he's deadly enough."

"He still needs a wand to use the deadliest of Dark Arts."

"Well, I plan never to use the Dark Arts." Again.

"Nevertheless, you will fight back."

"But I'm not sure how to control my power."

"We'll worry about that later. For now, I want to see how far you've progressed within the phase."

Harry didn't like the sound of this.

Snape rolled his wand pensively between his fingers. "Dumbledore thinks his Mirror could've prepared you a lot better."

"He knew he failed," Harry agreed.

"He wasted so many opportunities to teach you until it was too late."

"But he taught me enough to beat Voldemort."

"Did he really?" Snape questioned. "Just like your Mirror?"

"How is he?"

"Still sleeping," Snape replied coolly. "Do you have contact with him?"

"Not much, lately." Harry hesitated. "How are you keeping Pritchard from knowing he's not me?"

"I have the Patil twins run their observation charms. Whenever Pritchard comes around, I always have more than enough whiskey on hand so that by the time he does check Potter, he is too drunk to even see straight."

"Always full of plans…" Now the Patil twins knew that there are two Harrys. "Aren't you risking your life being here?"

"Draco and Blaise will contact me if anything is wrong."

Then Snape walked into the light the one bulb emitted so that Harry saw his face. "I accepted Dumbledore's offer to teach you, because I want to know what you see in your Mirror's thick skull."

"So you're nosing around in other people's business?" Harry sneered. "Well I'm not going to tell you."

"I don't care why Potter turned." Snape walked closer. "I want to know why he hates Dumbledore so much."

Harry snorted as Snape invaded his personal space. "You and me both."

"Potter, I care about Dumbledore."

"Yeah, you cared about him enough to kill him—"

"He is my friend. I fear for him and what he's doing. What he did to you was something that we all regret. It was a decision that has stirred doubt in his abilities and decisions. I'm sure you are angry about it."

"I was…Then I realised rescuing me wasn't as simple as I thought." Harry just wanted to smash that fake concern off his face.

Snape inched forward, almost predatory like Brodes was. Then he pinned Harry against the wall with one hand.

Terror gripped at his insides. "Get away from me, Snape!"

"Am I too close for comfort?" he said silkily. Harry froze, unable to move. He felt Snape's breath on his face, on his ear. "What did I do to Dumbledore? Did I enjoy killing him?" he whispered.

Something clicked within Harry and he was furious. The light bulb and the dirty window exploded, the shards of glass floated into the air. He pushed Snape away so forcibly that he tripped over a rusty lawnmower.

"YOU KILLED HIM IN FRONT OF MY EYES! HE PLEADED WITH YOU—!"

"You don't know Dumbledore well enough to make that judgement." He raised his wand. "Now," he purred deviously, "I think you're quite ready."

Heart pounding in anger, Harry had barely enough time to react as a red hot spell sizzled directly at his chest. He ducked in time before it slashed the wood of the doorway.

"WAIT!" he yelled, falling to the ground, knocking over tins of paint, his cane clattering by his side.

Another spell exploded near his ear, before he had the chance to steady himself. Gardening tools fell onto his head.

"STOP!"

"Pathetic!" Snape hissed with loathing, his wand pointed into Harry's face now. "You are meant to use Defence, Potter, not duck from my spells."

Harry panted, feeling anger and disgust with himself. He wondered if Snape was hell bent on really killing him.

He got up, trying to albeit his panic, still feeling helpless without the security of a wand. He stared at the scorch slash marks on the door, which had burnt all the way through. "Was that the Sectumsempra Curse?"

"I see you know more of the Dark Arts than I expect—"

"It was your spell! In fact, should I call you the Half-Blood Prince?"

Harry knew Snape didn't expect him to know his little secret. With great delight, he watched Snape falter.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he answered, raising his wand. "Ready yourself. And remember, the Dark Lord will never give you the time to defend yourself like I am."

(******)

Harry pressed the icepack on his forehead as Cotter mended his broken bones.

"I can't believe this," she shrilled, shaking her head at his injuries. He cringed as she healed a nasty cut on his arm. "You haven't even recovered from Azkaban!"

Remus sighed, and Harry wished he wouldn't. "I did say—"

"Save it! I wanted to see what would happen."

He was so angry at himself for failing so abysmally at defending himself. He was good, but not that good and not quick enough against a seasoned wizard like Snape.

Every time he used a spell, the magic was so uncontrolled and unfocused that the entire shed was in ruins by the end of the lesson. A simple Disarming Spell not only meant that Snape's wand flew into the air and into Harry's grasp, but half the contents of the shed would be hurled at him as well. A Stunning Hex almost knocked Snape out, but also the shelf behind him burst into violet flames. And when Harry hexed Snape with an easy Petrificus Totalis, everything in the shed turned to stone.

"You definitely have great power, but not the focus of it," Snape remarked.

"Oh I'm going to have a word with Dumbledore about this. Oh no, he's not going to put you through that again on my watch."

"Let him. I want to get better. I need to. I promise you, you won't need to heal me next time," he said, determined.

"He'll kill you."

"Please, I'm really tired. I just don't want to think about Snape anymore."

Cotter gave Harry two tablespoons of the Tantibus Mentis Potion. His head barely hit the pillow before he started dreaming.

The nightmares were sparse but they all included Snape. This time the mirror appeared and finally, he gave in.

He dived into the mirror and found himself back in the Potter's backyard. Behind the yew tree, Harry heard sniffling. He strolled around it and found the sixteen year old Mirror cradling his dead tabby cat in his arms. His wand had been thrown eight feet away and lay in a muddy puddle.

"I'm so sorry, Milly, I'm so sorry, I had to do it… I needed to… I couldn't get rid of the feelings… I'm so sorry."

On the shed to his right another mirror appeared. Harry knew the drill. But he couldn't help feel the same way about those ants he almost killed a few days ago, and how easy it was to hurt his Mirror and take relish in it.

He stepped into a breezy town and he could just see a yellow dot of the sun in the sky, poking through the Dementor mist. Even though there were few people around, and many of the shops closed, and Hit Wizards patrolled the area, Harry recognised the High Street of Hogsmeade.

Outside Honeydukes, thirteen year olds Harry and Ron stood goggling at the myriad of colourful sweets within.

"Pheowww, check out that Levitating Humbug: a whole gentle ten foot float. I don't have much on me, but—'

"Don't worry, Ron, I've got loads. Let's go in."

There was a large amount of giggling within the store as the front door tingled and opened. Hermione, Parvati and Lavender left with bags of sweets. Hermione waved to them, telling them to meet her and the girls at Madam Rosmerta's pub.

The boys were about to enter Honeydukes when someone called out for Harry.

It was Dumbledore, dressed in forest green robes and a travelling cloak. His long white beard fluttered in the breeze as he strolled to them, and past a dozen students who were bantering along.

"Good Morning, Professor," both boys replied.

"I'm sorry to intrude on this most auspicious day. I still remember my very first Hogsmeade visit. I had too much butterbeer and ended up in the Hospital Wing." His mustachio quivered and both boys grinned. "Nevertheless, Mr Weasley, I'm wondering if I can pull Mr Potter away for a chat. I won't keep him long."

Mirror Harry pulled out six gold galleons from his pocket and gave them to Ron. "Here, go for your life. It's got to last until we next visit."

Ron took off, meeting up with Dean and Seamus, who were about to get lost in the wonderful world of sugary delights.

"Let's go down this quiet street," Dumbledore pointed. "There is an ice cream parlour on the other side. And as I do recall from our previous ice cream adventure, you are fond of chocolate and raspberry swirl."

Dumbledore motioned for the Mirror to walk first along a winding cobbled street with medieval looking houses that badly needed a lick of paint.

"Er, so what's this about, sir?" the boy asked as he slurped at his chocolate and raspberry sundae, finished off with whipped cream and hot fudge.

"I craved a milkshake and… we need to talk."

Harry gingerly sat on the table near them, watching the two stare at each other. He could feel Mirror Harry's weariness of the situation.

Dumbledore sipped his vanilla malt milkshake. "The last time we spoke like this, you were seven years old. Do you remember what we discussed, Harry?"

"Yeah, the war and stuff, and you told me that prophecy about Voldemort that involved me and another boy. And that I will have to fight one day."

"I also told you, that you need not worry about it until you were much older."

Mirror Harry gulped, eyes wide now, his sundae long forgotten.

"I think you are ready to start preparing for your part in the war."

"Now?"

"Don't worry, Harry. I will be with you every step of the way." Dumbledore smiled. "I know you are scared, but defeating Voldemort will not occur tomorrow. It will be years until you're ready."

The boy fell silent, starring at his melting sundae.

"It is a great burden you must bear, I will not lie, but you cannot remain an innocent child of this war any longer. Things will begin to change for you, because Voldemort, who has kept quiet in your existence, is beginning to notice you for the threat you pose."

"What threat?" Mirror Harry recoiled. "I haven't done anything. I'm just me. All I want to do is have fun with my friends and study magic. I don't have any power the Dark Lord doesn't have. I'm not powerful—I don't have any talents—"

Dumbledore shook his head. "You have the potential to be someone great, someone to fear, more powerful than I could even imagine being. You are at the top of your year in Defence. Your Charms and Transfiguration work is brilliant, and you have an ability which you have not explored, but I know you have tested its strength against that Slytherin boy, Marcus Flint two weeks ago, absorbing his power."

"Oh… that."

"Yes, that! It earned you a month's worth of detentions with Professor Snape. In fact I'm quite surprised he had forgotten about these Hogsmeade trips. He would've loved the opportunity to keep you from coming…" Dumbledore gazed at the boy sternly.

"I felt bad the first time I did it—to my dad. But Marcus was hexing that first year—"

"Never mind about Marcus… Harry, you are a born Mage."

"Is that what that power was?"

"Part of it, yes. Absorbing the power of living things stimulates your natural ability. You displayed the signs as a young boy. It is now time for you to use it to its full potential. I will help you."

"Alright..."

"There will be several phases that you will encounter as a Mage. The very first, is the Dark phase, otherwise known as the Amarus level in the Mágos circle. The original ancient names the Greeks had given the phases have since been lost with time. But I must say this; you cannot bypass the Amarus level as you can do with the others. It is the phase which helps to distort your soul, allowing it to absorb magic and make your own. Because of this, it is a dangerous level."

"Why?"

"It is not called the Dark phase without reason, Harry. It is the only phase where Mages, without proper guidance and skill, can become infatuated with darkness. Their soul becomes vulnerable to all sources of power, including evil. It can destroy you."

"And then what?"

"Passing it, you will become a Mage, however if you wish to continue there are other phases to conquer to develop your powers even more. There is also the Help phase: the Auxilium level: A level where you help people in time of need. Others include the Animus: the Heart phase, where love is a power that will help you fight evil. The Marmor: the Stone phase. Using the earth and its elements and to experience the beauty of nature. Inmolatio: the Sacrifice phase: any form of sacrifice to help others is an act of true Animus and your power will be revered. The Seer phase: Viden level which helps you see into the future, something which I'm sure professor Trewlawney would be envious about. There are others like the Jactura, Caro, Unda, Zephyrus, Occasus, and more. But you have your whole life to explore and learn."

"I understand."

"But first, we must develop your ability and pass the first phase so that you can at least begin to match Voldemort's power."

Silence permeated between the two.

"Harry, the Marcus Flint incident has Voldemort worried. He has murdered children in the past, so you will be no different. There are spies within the school watching you and sending him reports."

"People are watching me?" The boy looked horrified.

Dumbledore nodded, stirring his milkshake. "It is time for action. I will tell you everything about Voldemort and his history. I have reason to believe that he had made preparations to keep himself immortal."

"Immortal?" the boy stated, frightened. "How do you know?"

"An old colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn, was almost killed a few months ago. He had been in hiding for over twenty years, frightened that Voldemort would kill him for the knowledge he possessed. He had been right. The incident left him scarred and he told me some curious things about Voldemort."

"W-when do we start?"

"Tomorrow night. And Harry there is something else I must tell you."

The boy looked up expectantly now, his green eyes bright.

"The wand you possess with a feather from my phoenix—the Yew and Phoenix—"

"What of it?"

"What I will tell you, must remain between us. There were in fact, two wands made using two feathers Fawkes had produced. One is Holly and Phoenix, the other Yew and Phoenix. The wand you possess once belonged to Voldemort."

"What? Ollivander never told me this!"

"Voldemort had put his wand back in Ollivander's shop, Obliviating the wandmaker and Imperiousing him to make him try the Yew and Phoenix wand on any eleven year old boy who walked through his store. This all happened after Voldemort had murdered Neville Longbottom and his family."

"But why?" The Mirror looked absolutely terrified.

"He wanted to know if there was someone who could yield it and therefore challenge his power. He was always worried about you, so instead of wasting resources and time finding you, as he did with Neville, he decided to wait and see."

"That's insane—!"

"Every moment you breathe, Harry, the more paranoid he becomes. However, could you imagine his fear when he discovered that his wand, out of a thousand boys it was tested on over the years, ended up choosing you, reinstating the fact that he had killed the wrong boy? And while you have his wand Harry, you must remember that its allegiance still belongs to Voldemort. And when the time comes for you to defeat him, using that wand may be detrimental to you."

"Where's the Holly and Phoenix one? Perhaps that wand truly belongs to me."

"Voldemort stole it from Ollivanders. He knew it existed. The Holly and Phoenix wand is powerful, even though the holly's nature does not quite suit Voldemort's character."

"But—but why does his wand work for me? Am I like him?"

"No. You are better than him. The wand chose you, in absence of the Holly and Phoenix one. Its core had been drawn to you. Like you said, I think the Holly and Phoenix wand would've been yours. Let us concentrate on your Mage ability. You will have no need for a wand then."

Out of the corner of Harry's eye, near the ice cream parlor's door shone a mirror. The memory was over.

Harry stood there thinking that Voldemort was losing his marbles.

He ventured through the new Mirror, and was disappointed when pulled himself into his bedroom. Harry flopped onto his armchair, thinking. So the Yew and Phoenix had never truly belonged to my Mirror. Still, he felt uneasy and even frightened at how the wand had connected with him.

Harry opened his eyes to dawn light as a rooster crowed somewhere in the Dales. His eyesight adjusted to the shadows of the room and suddenly, he noticed that there was somebody else in his bedroom. A red-haired figure was sitting down on the other bed.

He jolted, suddenly alarmed, but a flicker of hope burst into flame. "Ron?"

"Yeah, it's me." His head was cocked to the side, and he had a crooked smile on his face.

Harry's heart leapt. Had his travel to a Mirror Universe been nothing more than a horrible nightmare?

"Ron, you will never believe the dream I had! It was awful. I was Portkeyed to another universe and the world was just evil and frightening. And I was mistaken for a Death Eater—"

"Yeah that's all real, mate, and you're still in it."

Harry sat up too fast that his head spun, and his back was on fire again. He cringed in pain, and through teary eyes he saw that Mirror Ron was staring at him like he was an interesting curio.

He had almost thought it was all over. That was cruel.

"You look exactly like Harry," Mirror Ron said.

"And you look exactly like Ron."

"Excellent!" he said happily, slapping a hand on his thigh.

"Er, what are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore told me about you and thought you could use with some company."

The slight moment of happiness Harry had seeing Mirror Ron dissipated. He kicked away the pillow between his thighs and fluffed up the one underneath his head. "Did he now?"

"Yeah, and to tell you the truth, I really wanted to see you."

"I don't want you to be here," Harry said, his words filled with venom. He knew that Ron was going to be used by Dumbledore.

"James is back with his family and Remus is still weak. You and the kids need some company."

"I don't need you to be here. I don't need anymore help."

Mirror Ron shrugged. "All right, if that's what you want, I'll go. You can just keep staring at the walls all day long." He picked up his rucksack from the bed. "I'll take my chess, my bottles of Firewiskey, and Wizard's Wand Mags—and believe me Harry, the witches in those mags are fucking hot—and I'll head right on home."

Seeing Ron, even though he was a Mirror, had really perked his interest. Harry reconsidered before the wizard left. "Wait. OK, stay."

Ron chuckled, taking his hand off the doorknob. "Wizard's Wand Magazines always does the trick. Harry and I used to sneak em' into Hogwarts after every trip to Hogsmeade. Sadly, one day in fourth year, Filch confiscated them. We ended up with detention for a whole month."

"What Quidditch team do you go for?" He sat up slowly this time, drinking in Ron's tall lanky frame, the flaming red hair, long nose and freckles. God, Harry missed his Ron so much.

"Are you mental? I thought you are best mates with Ron?" The boy looked at him as though he had gone mad. "Chudley Canons, of course."

"Just making sure," Harry grinned, "I think we're gonna' get along just fine."

They were chatting away as Ron pulled his things out of his bag. It was the first time since Azkaban did Harry really want to talk and just be himself. He even missed his best friend's swearing.

Ron put away his clothes with a liquorice wand hanging out of his mouth. "Ahh, shit," he said, suddenly rummaging through his bag. "Dumbledore sent you a gift." He placed the wrapped box on Harry's bed.

"I'm not interested."

"Can I open it for you?" He looked more curious than Harry was about it.

"Sure…"

Ron leapt forward excited, and ripped the wrapping off the box. He sat down on his own bed and pulled off the cover. He looked inside the box intensely for a moment, intrigued, perhaps confused, making Harry raise an eyebrow. Ron picked up a note and read it silently, then passed it to him with a please explain look on his face.

Mr Weasley had found this useful in your world.

You may find it just as illuminating.

Ron pulled the object from the box and fiddled with its knobs. With a click, the lights of the room suddenly went out and the orbs of light sped into the Put-Outer.

29. Chickens Under Attack

Chickens Under Attack

"The child?"

"I haven't been able to track her down, my Lord," Severus replied.

The Dark Lord's nostrils flared beneath his heavy, black hooded cloak. Severus felt as though the walls of the headmaster's office were enclosing on him.

"I have word that Lily Potter and the children have suddenly moved from Headquarters—vanished. No one knows their location, even their father."

"How did you find out?" Dumbledore was right about the spy.

"I have been lucky, very lucky," the Dark Lord said.

"I will track their movements my Lord, perhaps they've left clues..."

"Yes you will, Severus, and this time you will succeed," he threatened. The Dark Lord opened the door and motioned for him to walk through first. "I have a request."

"Of course, my Lord." He bowed lightly, his heart drumming in his ears.

"Revive Sybil Trelawney for me. I am not done with her yet."

(******)

There was a flurry in Dumbledore's kitchen and a disgusting smell emanated from a cauldron. "Albus, I came to speak with you about Sy—"

"Quick, help me with this potion." There was a twirl of voilet robes. "We can not afford to waste it. It has become difficult sourcing the ingredients now with the crackdown on the black market."

Severus sniffed the Polyjuice potion bubbling away on the stove. It was boiling vigorously and it was endanger of turning grey, which would be disastrous. The resultant muck would burn the insides of the wizard stupid enough to drink it. The Order was running low on the potion, but this time Severus didn't have the time to make a new batch.

"I suggest you add a sprinkle of rosemary to calm the mixture."

"Rosemary?" Dumbledore questioned with surprise, as he wafted the acrid steam away from his face. "That's rather unconventional."

"It will work. But do it quickly." Severus pointed to several bunches of different dried herbs hanging above them. "Dried will work fine, and stir counter-clockwise five times, slowly."

Dumbledore nimbly picked a few sprigs of rosemary before stirring them in. A brilliant flash of green sparks flew out of the cauldron, and they watched the mixture calm down, turning a thick, dark green once more. Judging by the colour, it would be another week before the potion would be ready.

Dumbledore relaxed. "I'm not as proficient as you in Potions. And to see it fail would put us back months."

"Hence the reason I am your Potions Master." Severus crossed his arms, and paced the kitchen. "Albus I came—"

"Is the boy progressing?' Dumbledore interrupted, adjusting the temperature of the stove before moving away.

"Terribly."

"You injured him days ago."

"It is not my fault he's useless."

"Must you use the boy's experiences to invoke his power?" Dumbledore criticised.

"I am preparing him for what's to come, like you told me to," Severus replied without remorse.

"For his war Severus, not ours."

"How do you know his war isn't becoming like ours the longer he exists here?"

"You are not one of the Thirteen," Dumbledore said angrily, "so stop using cheap and depraved tactics!"

"Albus, strong emotions brings out the power of the Màgos," Severus quickly replied. "But, for the last two lessons we haven't used spells, and I have not tormented him. I moved the training into Lupin's yard, as I want to strengthen his reflexes—get him strong again, and test his power in a less volatile way."

"Good."

"Physically, he is still very frail."

The old wizard nodded sadly. "And his magic?"

"Exceptional, but he needs to control his ability first which may take awhile, considering that the only other Mage available to learn from, is an arrogant, dangerous, self entitled twit."

"There is a meditation technique Tibetan wizards use before using a strong spell. It helps them to control their magic and increase the potency of it. You may want to try it out. It may help Harry focus more."

"The same one you used while you were recovering from your defeat?"

"It helps." He opened a tin of gingersnaps and shook the tin at Severus to help himself. "These are fresh from Minerva's Kitchen. It is a new recipe of hers."

"Since Hogwarts closed, why are we so focused on cooking?" he questioned, sniffing a biscuit.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I guess it is our way of adding a little light to the darkness."

When he thought of the other faculty members, like Minerva baking, or Filius's cakes and that ridiculous pink floral apron he wears on occasion, or even Hagrid's awful food, Severus could only cook to avoid starving to death. He would rather use his skills to brew potions.

"Anything else about the boy you'd like to discuss?"

Finishing the biscuit in haste, which was marginally better than Minerva's other recipe's he said, "This bizarre vision the boy had about the Dark Lord—"

"Is not our concern."

"How so? Is the boy a seer? It seems that that lightning bolt scar pains him. I asked him about it today—he's had visions in his own world, but he was hesitant to speak about it."

"Harry has a unique connection with Lord Voldemort. However, this problem stemmed from his world and it isn't a problem you should meddle in."

"Still, it's interesting that he has this connection. Do you have any idea what caused it?"

"Vaguely," he responded, though he did not elaborate. "You know Severus, sometimes, you give me the impression you like the Mirror Potter."

"Your impression is sadly mistaken. I am merely gathering the facts about this odd curiosity. It's not everyday someone travels Mirror Universes." Now Severus really wanted to discuss more pressing issues. "Now, I need to talk to you about Sybil," he stated darkly.

Dumbledore sat down at his table, looking up. "We had a meeting about her today, with a few select members. You know my fears about the spy—"

"There is a spy. The Dark Lord confirmed it. Someone told him that Lily and the children had fled the Order."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Excellent. And hopefully we will know who it is in days."

"Good."

"Now, we will try to infiltrate Hogwarts tomorrow night to rescue Sybil. Hogsmeade is untouchable, so we will need to tiptoe around it. It has become more decrepit and debauched than Knockturn Alley."

Severus tried to speak, but Dumbledore raised his hand.

"Let me finish. There is a secret passage to Hogwarts the Death Eaters are not aware of, although the Weasley twins have said that it is obstructed, but I am sure we will find a way—"

"Call it off!"

Dumbledore knitted his brow. "Why?"

"Albus, the Dark Lord's broken her mind. I saw her in the dungeons this evening. The Dark Lord wanted her revived, but she was unresponsive and did not acknowledge me… she's almost dead."

"We'll need to get her out tonight," he said gravely.

"You can't," Severus said adamantly. "There's too much security around her."

The staunch resolve washed away and a saddened, hopeless look replaced it on Dumbledore's face. "Do you think it's too late?"

Severus nodded. "I think she will be killed tonight."

Dumbledore looked distressed. "She never had a strong will. Perhaps I should've risked the Conditioned—"

"You can't. There's too much at stake here. She is a casualty we have to face. Hogwarts is impenetrable and you cannot save everyone."

"I can't let her suffer—"

"Yet, you forced an innocent boy to endure Azkaban when you could've gotten him out. You turned a blind eye to his suffering and all for what? So our Prodigal son could turn to the light again? So he could remain close to—to Voldemort?" Dumbledore bowed his head as Severus continued with his barrage of words. "You destroyed him, Albus. In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't up and left, seeking support elsewhere. I would, and I know his Mirror would if he was awake."

"Harry was going to. He betrayed his Mirror for this very purpose," he replied in disgust. "But the Mirror is no stranger to hardship. There is more love and compassion that keeps him grounded, and I think this is what will help him through this."

Severus growled, "I don't care how resilient this boy is. You left him in Azkaban. How do you sleep at night after ruining his life?"

"I don't." Dumbledore blinked. "They haunt me. But Severus I could not rescue the boy."

"You could've, but it was all just too hard to deal with the repercussions."

"And now you are telling me not to risk rescuing Sybil," Dumblebore cut.

Severus stumbled before he could add another word. Dumbledore had a point.

"Do you now realise the dilemma I faced with the boy? Azkaban's magic had increased a hundredfold after Grindelwald had attacked. The security was scrutinised and any glaring loop holes closed," Dumbledore explained. "The spells developed by the Unspeakables, placed there after the first breakout, could only be relinquished upon Umbridge's death."

"What sort of spells?"

"If Harry had stepped outside his cell without Umbridge's approval, it would have been disastrous. Their alarms would trigger if certain magical spells and curses are used."

"Then why not hoodwink them?"

"Umbridge had hidden Auror bodygards around her at all times. Willis had a Dark amulet on his body that repelled charms and hexes back on to the caster, I sensed it."

"What about Cotter—?"

"Severus, as you are reluctant to use the Conditioned, I could not use her. The main aim for my golden egg and Order member at Azkaban was to protect The Blue Square children."

How could Severus disagree with that, particularly since half the children that were there were under the age of ten?

"These spells, would not have only killed Harry, but so would all the prisoners and Atoners, as Auror Pickens had warned me. The Atoners were very fearful of that ever occurring," he said. "So was I, since half the prisoners were innocent."

Severus nodded. "And if nothing new had been enacted in the prison and the Order attacked, it would've caused war between us and the Ministry."

"Do you now understand why I didn't rescue the boy? Why should I risk everyone's lives, when—"

"—Voldemort was going to attack soon," Severus finished. "And I was the best wizard for the job."

"I had total faith in you to rescue him and the others." Dumbledore sighed and covered his face with a robe sleeve. He had never in his years of service seen Dumbledore with teary eyes.

"Albus—"

"You're right. I cannot risk saving Sybil. As for the others, it will be a logistical nightmare."

Severus was in shock. "You… you think I'm right?"

"Yes, as long as you understand why I left the boy there."

"I do." Severus slumped in his chair, defeated.

"This war…" Dumbledore's voice was so quiet now, that Severus had to lean in to hear it. "It just needs to end with the maximum knowledge, surprise and resources to do so. Harry must turn, yet remain close to Voldemort."

"If it all goes according to your plan… What if he wakes up and decides to let us rot in hell?"

"It's a risk we must face." Dumbledore looked so weary now and frail. His voice seemed heavily strained with the weight of guilt crushing him.

"What about my loyalty to my master? I've said this before; Potter is too far in the deep end to be saved. But I could kill the Dark Lord—"

"It must be Harry. He knows him and the perfect time to end it. He must be at his side."

"I still don't think it will work," Severus exasperated.

"Before the suffering Harry had inflicted, he left us one last legacy—the reason why Voldemort must drink unicorn blood—Harry had destroyed his power."

Severus was shocked. "It was him?"

"Yes. It must be Harry who ends this war."

"But I could end him right now!"

"You could kill him, but it'll all be in vain."

"Care to explain?"

"Unfortunately, I cannot put all my eggs in the same basket and…" Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I cannot lose you."

He snorted, turning away. "You can't lose me because I am too close to Voldemort."

"No," Dumbledore responded softly, his hand now on Severus's arm. "I can't lose you because you are like a son to me."

He opened and closed his mouth lost for words. Did Dumbledore really mean it? Severus's own bastard of a father had left him and his mother when he was fourteen, and good riddance.

Dumbledore patted his hand and Severus closed his mouth. He must have looked like a gawping fish.

Then the old wizard sighed. "It is a sad night. But I must get back to the Chickens and help them gather the French eggs."

(******)

Nothing moved in the landscape. They were somewhere in North Cumbria, as they waited for the French Aurors and Hit Wizards to arrive. In the days to come they'd be more collections of other countries law enforcement teams.

James checked his watch. He hadn't been there for long with only Emmeline and Bill to keep him company.

"The others should arrive soon," he said softly.

The wind began to stir quietly around them, and the swirling mist was thinning.

"Pssst," Bill started. "I'm going for a piss, watch my back." He retreated off into a crumbled old cottage.

Emmeline screwed up her face in disgust as she sat down on a boulder and stared ahead.

"Don't trip over anything," James whispered to Bill.

It was rather cold, and frost was starting to appear on the long grass around them.

"Hey James," Emmeline whispered. "I feel like I'm being watched? Do you?"

"Nah." But the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing. He scanned the dark horizon around him and gripped his wand tighter. He heard nothing except for an owl hooting in the abandoned cottage.

"Do you know why Dumbledore didn't tell us who the rest of our party was?" Emmeline asked.

"No… he was rather hesitant telling about the tiniest details."

Abruptly, there were several pops and cracks. Startled, James jumped a foot into the air. He looked around, ready to fight.

"It's alright, James, it's only us," squeaked Flitwick.

He inhaled deeply, though as protocol dictates, he shook Flitwick's hand and whispered a question. "What's your favourite charm?"

Flitwick beamed. "Wingardium Leviosa of course."

James gazed at the nervous, excited faces of the Order members.

Hagrid fumbled forward, holding his pink umbrella. There were a few new faces too, including a French couple and their daughter. The women of that family looked like they had a bit of veela in them.

Then he spotted someone he thought he'd never see again.

He hadn't seen her for ten years or so, and she hadn't changed much, except, there was a lot of silver in her ash blonde hair. She saw him too and almost smiled, then hesitantly, she walked forward.

"Hello James," she said. The lovely diamond necklace and earrings she wore accented perfectly with her cool blue eyes. Beneath her travelling cloak she wore a lavender silk dress that was tightly fitted, with a silver brooch gathering up the pleats at her waist.

"I didn't expect to see you here again, Imogen."

"I'm surprised as well, but Delbert wanted to come out of hiding. He had the inspiration to fight now he's seeing some progress," she sulked. "I couldn't stay in Norway alone with only the house elves to keep me company."

"How are your children?""

"Mark and Desmond are in the Order now. Hugh is currently in Durmstrang. Delbert thinks that school will straighten him out. He thinks Beauxbatons is filled with nancy boys and too much ponce."

James didn't want to know what else Delbert thought. That man just didn't know when to shut up, just like Vernon Dursley.

"How is your family? I am so sorry for your loss." She almost touched his hand, but refrained. "I wanted to send you a letter, but after all that's happened, I didn't think it was a wise thing to do…"

"Thanks for saying it now." There was an awkward silence, and Imogen looked back over her shoulder as though frightened to be caught with James.

"Are you staying at HQ?"

"No, we're staying at Delbert's Aunt's house in Dundee… until we find other suitable arrangements. I told him, we're putting Aunt Margaret in danger, but he never listens to me." She shrugged. "In a way I'm glad we're not in HQ. If your wife sees me—"

"Yeah, we mustn't go down that road—"

"—Lily would curse me into oblivion."

"Exactly."

"Imogen, come here." A lean man with a thin long nose and grey balding hair waved her over.

"I must get back to Delbert… mustn't keep him waiting." She half smiled.

James had always known her relationship with Delbert was not a happy one. But thinking back, it had almost destroyed his family as well. What little joy and surprise he had seeing her again vanished.

"I'll speak to you later."

She tensed, a deep furrow appearing on her brow. "I don't think that's wise. It'll make Delbert suspicious."

James knew she was scared, very scared.

"If you're so unhappy why don't you leave him? Take the kids and go."

"It's not that easy, James. Delbert will track me down and kill me. His sons are everything to him. And if I tell him I want to leave, he'll take everything away from me: my children, my reputation and he'll leave me with no money.

"You like your wealth too much."

"Do you think I married him for love?" she tittered. "I wanted so much more in life, and Delbert was the price for it."

James watched her walk back to her husband's side, and saw the grip he suddenly took on her arm as he introduced her to the veela woman and her daughter.

James clenched his jaw, staring at her. There was no love between them. It had been a moment of heat, passion and excitement.

They had met in the Order and things progressed from there. She wanted friendship, passion, an escape route, and James wanted a bit of fun. Stupid fun. It ended up being one of the worst things he had ever done.

Almost eleven years ago, James realised he wasn't Prongs anymore. Gone were the adventures with the Marauders and his happy, carefree days at Hogwarts. He was now a family man with four young children, all gripping him with their tiny, dirty fingers for his attention. The nappy changes, the tantrums, the fussy eaters and a frazzled wife who was more interested in trying to hold the house together with routine, and a sense of happiness against the darkness of the world.

James hated what his life had become then, but then he met Imogen, the rich, sad wife of Delbert Castlewright or as Imogen liked to say, the property of Delbert Castlewright.

When she entered the Order meeting for the first time, it was like a breath of fresh air. For the first time in a long time, James felt like Prongs again.

He couldn't lie to himself; he had done some very stupid things as a young man. Things he wasn't proud of, however, looking back, his time with Imogen has been a very bad mistake. The betrayal in Lily's eyes when she found out stabbed his heart into pieces. They should've just remained friends.

He was selfish, arrogant and an abysmal male, and to top it off, he let his children down.

No, he couldn't go down that road again. Too much has happened since, and his priorities were with his family now. Prongs was dead the moment he held his tiny son, Harry in his arms. The moment that child looked up with his bright eyes, and James told him, he'd protect him from all the evil in the world, was the moment he grew up. Prongs was nothing but a memory of childhood.

"James," Bill slapped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I've been trying to speak with you for the last minute." He looked amused.

"Sorry mate, what's happening?"

"I was just saying to Emmeline, it's the first time in years we've had a proper glimpse of the night sky without the mist." He pointed upwards and everyone else was oohing and ahhing.

The stars twinkled, and the lack of light from the Muggle infrastructure, meant that the stars were brighter and more beautiful than he'd ever seen before. He saw the swirls of the galaxy above, and then a shooting star zoomed overhead.

"Shame the mist is coming in again," Emmeline pouted in disappointment. She looked at her brilliant violet watch with gold hands. "We're due to collect the eggs in a minute."

There was the occasional whisper, but mainly they all waited in silence.

Then they all saw them; tiny flickers of light that slowly grew, into tremendous golden balls. It lit up the landscape as though the sun had come up to play. As the light dimmed, pockets of tightly bunched Aurors touching Portkeys materialised all around them.

James counted the groups and realised that the numbers didn't quite add up. "This doesn't look right. There's over a hundred Aurors here. Shouldn't there be more?"

One of the Aurors, dusting herself off, approached. She was a tall, lean black woman with a dark pixie haircut, and sharp brown eyes.

"'Ello, you must be James Potter."

"And you must be Commander Jehanne Larue."

She shook his hand with an iron grip. "I am, and dis iz half of my French team," she said waving her hand behind, without looking away from him.

The Aurors behind her did not move, nor did they speak, yet they were not looking at the Order. Instead their eyes were trained on the landscape.

"We are very pleased to meet you, but I was under the impression we were meeting all the Aurors today. And where are the Hit wizards?"

Her eyebrows flicked up. "You did not know?"

"Know what?" Bill spoke. The Order members looked at each other in confusion.

"ILS SONT ICI!" an Auror yelled.

Suddenly all the Aurors pointed their wands into the landscape.

It took a second for James to realise who the real enemy was as Death Eaters who had been Disillusioned in the field, revealed themselves. They surrounded them in a wide circle.

Emmeline had been right, they had been watched. In fact James and everyone had been waiting in the middle of a planned ambush.

He barely had the time to think as the first curse fizzled past their heads, exploding the little abandoned house. A shower of timber and tiles fell onto their heads. James felt the shrapnel cutting his head as he fell to the ground.

"JAMES!" Bill yelled, slashing his wand at a Death Eater, who had lunged at Flitwick. "Tell Jehanne—"

A spell hit Bill between his shoulder blades. He fell into the grass. James was about to run to him when a Death Eater Apparated in front of him.

"Avada—"

Incendio, he retaliated. The Death Eater's wand exploded in green flames. And with a simple wand flick, catching the stunned moment on the Death Eater's face, James hit him with a Petrifying Curse.

"HELP!" Emmeline bolted past, her cloak in flames.

"Aquamenti!" the veela-like young woman to his right, yelled. A ball of water hit Emmeline's back, putting out the fire and sending splashes of water through the air.

James whirled around. He needed to find the Head Auror and tell her where she and the group must go. But he wasn't sure if even Order HQ had been infiltrated by Death Eaters.

He jumped over a dead Death Eater and helped Imogen out of a tricky spot when a Death Eater, sounding suspiciously like one of the Carrow's, tried to kill her.

There were screams around them. Curses and defence spells whizzed passed, some hitting their targets. James's adrenalin was pumping through him, in dread, fear and excitement. Oh how he wished Sirius was with him by his side.

"Oi, Potter!"

He turned around and a masked Death Eater slashed his wand, firing a blue hex at him. But James ducked in time, rolled on the grass and stupefied the wizard.

Then Hagrid appeared, trying to swing off a Death Eater that had wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Yeh little—" Hagrid swung around violently. The Death Eater screamed as he was catapulted into the air.

"HA, good one!" James yelled, his alertness lapsing. Then something hit his face and he felt a whoosh of air as he hit the ground hard.

His ear was ringing as Hagrid grabbed the Death Eater who had cursed James. James pulled himself up, in time to see the half-giant throw the wizard in the same direction as the last one.

He couldn't feel pain yet. His face was completely numb, but he could taste the blood in his mouth. Hagrid pulled him up. Unsteady on his feet, James knew time was of an essence now. He could not afford to be injured like this. He needed to see and think straight, and be able to stand upright.

"Yer right?" Hagrid yelled.

"Yes," he yelled back, spluttering Hagrid with blood.

"Yer gotta' let the Frenchies know—"

"I KNOW! I KNOW!" James yelled, pressing his ringing ear with one hand while cursing a Death Eater trying to kill an Auror with his other.

He staggered around for a minute, falling again, and then deciding to crawl in the grass for awhile. Wizards and witches tripped over him, and James didn't know whether they were Aurors or Death Eaters. He fumbled passed the dead and injured, determined to not see their faces.

He needed to tell the Aurors where to go. He sat down, panting.

"Expecto Patronum," he whispered, thinking of his favourite Patronus memory: the moment Harry was two years old and caught his first Snitch in a backyard game of Quidditch. He could hear his little boy giggling.

"I think you really do have a famous Quidditch player in the making, James," Sirius said, amazed. "That wasn't a toy Snitch either."

"He didn't catch it, Sirius," James grinned, "he almost swallowed it."

"Eh, two year olds eat anything..."

The spell wasn't working. No, thought James, he mustn't think about Sirius.

"Expecto Patronum!" he said again, this time more fiercely as he concentrated on a memory of Charlie asking him about becoming an Animagus.

A stag materialised in full form out of his wand and bowed its antlered head, its silvery ear perked towards James's lips.

"Id enim auribus nostris tantum," he commanded, thinking of only the Order members and the Aurors present. They must be the only ones for the Patronus to relay his message to. He added the obligatory silencing charm, making the message secure. "Remus Lupin's—Olswell Cottage—you know the rest." The stag nodded, and silently it galloped around, simply majestic and beautiful.

James finally stood up, swaying on the spot, but it was in time to see the first Aurors disappear, stopping Death Eaters in their tracks.

He turned as the Patronus whirled around, telling Flitwick and Bill where to go. The great thing about the Patronus was that once it was free, no spell could penetrate it, except for the Killing Curse. But James knew his Patronus would miss it.

He spotted Hagrid slumped against the remains of the house. James directed the Patronus at him, when suddenly he was knocked to the ground again, and a familiar face swam above him.

"I've waited a long time for you, Potter!" Greyback snarled, pinning James to the ground.

His clawed hands dug into James's forearms. Greyback's strength was monumental as he fought against him. The werewolf's yellow fangs dripped blood onto James's face and his breath smelt like rotting flesh.

James struggled to relinquish his trapped wand beneath his hip, as Greyback enclosed his fangs onto his neck.

"Wait!" he yelled. He had to buy time. "You've waited for me?"

"You're the one who got away. You let that worm get bitten for you," he growled. "And I've never given up scents." Greyback sniffed him. "I thought your son would be enough, but no, he wasn't the same. It isn't the same as biting into the flesh of the scent. Oh the sweetness."

James succeeded getting his wand, and he stared into Greyback's yellow eyes, and into that monster soul of his.

"My son? What's he to you?"

Greyback laughed, teeth brushing James's neck. "He was a good little doggy. He fought me for a bit… he was delightfull!" He opened his mouth wide, about to plunge.

James twirled his wand, and Greyback's eyes widened as he gargled for breath, hands at his slashed throat. James kicked him off. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" he screamed into Greyback's face.

But Greyback bared his teeth, knowing it was the end, and silently laughed. James jabbed his wand into Greyback's forehead, not caring that the werewolf's blood was staining his robes.

"You deserve worse than this!"

"James!" Imogen called out.

Panting, anger flaring; Greyback's words punctured James as though his fangs had ripped him open. He shook his head when Imogen called out again. Greyback was taking a while to die, but he had to move on.

He rushed to her side and she was holding onto her unconscious husband's bloody wound. The uninjured Death Eaters were fighting the remaining Aurors. He spotted the Head Auror.

"Mr Potter," Jehanne said, catching his eye. "Ve vill handle this now. Go."

"Just make sure that bastard Greyback dies!" He focused on Imogen. "Come with us."

"No, I'll take him home," she said. Imogen pressed a hand on her husband's shoulder, his blood defiling her beautiful dress. "We will report to Dumbledore as soon as we're safe."

"All right, go." He watched them disappear.

The terror in her eyes never left him, as he too Disapparated.

30. Contact

Contact

Harry was staring into the mirror of a toilet block at Hogwarts. His reflection stared back, chipped and faded. He needed another haircut, he thought. Water was dripping from faulty taps, and he could hear Moaning Myrtle's crying somewhere in one of the U bends.

"STUDENT OUT OF BED!"

Harry jolted at Filch's excited voice.

There were rushed footsteps and suddenly the door smashed open. The bloodied Mirror staggered in. He gripped the basin before falling to his knees. Harry saw the glint of a gold heavy chain around his neck. The Locket Horcrux.

The Mirror rested, panting, smearing blood everywhere.

Moaning Myrtle stopped crying. She decided to hover near him. "Ohhhh, what a surprise. I didn't expect to see you again—Why are you covered in blood?"

"Shut it. Go away."

"So I'm only useful when you need information from me?" Myrtle frowned. "You're so insensitive! Why must everyone treat me like a slimy insect?"

"That's because you are."

Outraged, Myrtle zoomed into the basin, where she continued crying.

The Mirror let go and sat on the ground, staring at one of the toilets. The boy was wearing Death Eater robes, but with a simple touch of his hand, they slowly changed into his Hogwarts ones.

Then Snape, Dumbledore and Filch burst through the doorway, looking perplexed and worried, though Filch looked positively excited at catching a student breaking the rules. Mrs Norris slithered between their legs, purring.

"What happened?" Snape walked forward, noticing the blood.

The Mirror looked away.

"Severus, Argus, leave us."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I should."

"Please," Dumbledore insisted.

Snape left begrudgingly, but Harry knew he would be nearby, waiting.

"Argus—"

"Headmaster, he'll need to be punished!"

"And he will be." Dumbledore shut the bathroom door and protected the room with a Silencing Charm.

"Nothing is private anymore."

Dumbledore crouched down next to him. "You can trust me."

Harry learnt that in this Mirror World, spells such as Silencing Charm, Muffliato Charm and the Dark Mark Concealing Charm had to be constantly modified, sometimes daily because of new counter spells being produced. No one and no secret was safe for too long.

"Where have you been?" Dumbledore asked calmly. "I am responsible for the welfare of my students, including Death Eaters and spies. You have not been in school for two days. Your friends are worried about you."

"They're not my friends—"

"And suddenly you show up in the middle of the night covering the castle floor with blood."

"That is none of your business, Headmaster."

"The Aurors guarding the castle are investigating as we speak. We are alone, Mr Potter. You can trust me."

The Mirror shook his head once. It looked more like a twitch. But Dumbledore understood.

"Mr Potter, this is most serious! You are jeopardising your education and one more step out of line, you will be expelled." His eyes roved around the bathroom.

The boy touched the tiles, and a white light spread from his fingertips like a ripple of water. Slowly it got bigger, travelling up the walls, infiltrating every nook and cranny of the room. The ripple of light met at a single point in the ceiling, bathing the room in a second of intense brightness.

"Where have you been, Harry?"

"Bella needed me by her side for a mission."

"Harry, you are meant to be looking for the final two Horcruxes. You've wasted weeks. It's been months since you discovered Neville Longbottom's teddy bear. You still need to find the locket and cup."

Dumbledore didn't know he has the locket, thought Harry.

"I haven't been able to look. They're monitoring my movements closely, and I need to do what my Mentor orders."

"What are you doing?"

Harry could feel the Mirror's sudden anxiousness and fear of what Dumbledore could see.

"Don't look inside my mind," the boy snarled, getting up. "I'm doing what you told me to do."

"Not this, Harry, never this. That blood is not your own."

The boy laughed, and lifted his hands, palms up. "It's the blood of a Muggle woman. Muggle Sport, we call it."

Dumbledore paled. "Harry, your mission—"

"The war will be over soon. But…"

"But what?"

"I want to see how far my power can go." Mirror Harry brushed past him.

Dumbledore didn't go after him. Instead, he whispered something which made the boy stop in his tracks.

"What did you say?"

"You are losing yourself."

The Mirror's green eyes were full of rage. "You told me to play the part of a Death Eater and that's what I'm doing."

"I did not ask you to become a true Death Eater, Harry."

"I'm not." Then he smiled. "But I am finding this phase wanting me to explore my power. It's wonderful." He stared wide-eyed into his curled, bloody hands. "We can't speak again, not unless you want to put me in danger."

One of the cubicle doors shimmered as a mirror materialised on it. Harry walked through it and into his own bedroom, waking up instantly.

Breathing quickly, Harry noticed that Ron was awake and staring at him.

"Er, you all right?" Ron asked cautiously. "Did you, er, have that connection thingie?"

"Yeah," he replied.

Harry thought the red and yellow hue in the distance of the Dales was the sun rising, until he realised the bedroom faced west.

"Fires…" Ron said. He stood by Harry's side, his blue eyes reflecting red. He sighed and flopped into the armchair Harry had occupied a lot during his recovery. "I better check in with Percy about what's happened during the night."

He had barely known Mirror Ron for two days, but Harry sensed that he was different to his own best friend. There was an air of maturity and responsibility about him, which his own Ron was still developing. This Mirror seemed like a seasoned warrior. While he did have that sense of humour and fun he loved about Ron, this Mirror was a lot more serious.

The young grew up fast here.

Harry had learnt that many of the school kids he had known had been killed or conditioned here. Dean, Hannah, Marrieta and Cho as well, Penelope Clearwater had been taken as well as Ernie and Mandy.

Susan Bones had been abducted most likely killed by the Ebners, a family of horrible Death Eaters who are as proficient in stealing as they are with tracking down Muggle-borns. Felix Ebner was one of the Notorious Thirteen, and loved to mutilate his victims.

However, Susan's aunt, Amelia, had never given up hope of finding her niece alive.

Seamus had been killed along with his mother. Lavender and Anthony Goldstein were murdered. Their bodies desecrated. Alicia Spinnet had been missing for years now along with half of her own classmates and no one knew if they were alive. And a few Muggle-borns, like the Creevey brothers were languished away in dungeons of Hogwarts for the amusement of the Death Eaters, imprisoned and enslaved.

Harry wasn't surprised to hear that many of the Slytherins he had known were Death Eaters.

But there were many more fighting in the Order too: Lee, Terry, Angelina, Katie, and Cedric Diggory. Luna was a member as well, but in hiding. Even Demelza Robins, Romilda, and Cormac MacClaggan were in it, although Harry was pleased to hear the boy was still a prat in this world. And Ron told him that a few Slytherins were in the Order too, but that was hushed about.

"It's getting worse, you know."

"Ron—"

"Death Eaters are trying to flush out Grindelwald's supporters. That's why we're having all these fires lately. The Order doesn't know where to start. I think some of us are hoping they'd kill each other off and end the war."

"Ron, I don't want to know—"

"Hermione's helping the best she can from Australia, but I'm so happy she's not here. The Death Eaters can smell a Muggle-born a mile away." He shook his head. "A Muggle-born captured? They'll be unlucky to survive."

"I know it's a really bad situation everyone is in, but I have my own war to fight." Harry gingerly sat down. "I need to distance myself from this war and the people in it."

Ron cringed. "God, I'm sorry Harry. I almost forgot—you're not—you know, our Harry." He ran his fingers through his red hair, looking up. There was a lost, sad look on his face.

"You miss him, don't you?" Harry whispered.

Ron looked away as though he was about to reveal a deep, shameful secret. "Everyday."

"And I think he misses—"

"Shh!"

There was scuffling of feet downstairs and then something crashed onto the floor. Then a door clanged shut.

Ron whipped out his wand from his pyjama pocket and prised the door open. Harry was right behind him.

"I think we've got visitors," Harry said, as they saw Remus's shadow rush past.

The voices were loud and panicked.

Ron tiptoed forward, but as Harry followed, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Wait here."

"I'm coming."

"You need to stay out of our war, remember?"

"I'm coming," Harry repeated. "Besides, I don't hear Remus yelling for help."

"Wear my invisibility cloak," he whispered, pulling the cloak out of his bag.

They found James, Hagrid, Bill, Flitwick, Emmeline, the Delacours, and a few strange wizards all resting on the floor near the hearth, all sporting bloody injuries. Remus quickly checked their wounds.

"Hullo Ron," James croaked, self healing a black eye. Blood was running down his mouth.

The fireplace roared to life, colouring the room purple. Lily materialised along with a plump, frazzled Healer, Harry guessed was Octavia Miles. She rushed over and deposited her bag next to a stony-faced Bill Weasley.

"And hello to my lovely, disappearing wife." James showed a rather gruesome smile, which made Lily cringe.

Harry backed himself against the wall and watched in silence.

Lily grimaced. "I've seen worse."

"Thanks for the concern, dearest." James ran his tongue over the area of his missing teeth.

She rolled up her jumper sleeves, before moving to help with Bill's broken bones.

"What the hell happened?" Ron yelled in shock.

"Ambush—Death Eaters," Bill said hoarsely.

"Shit, but… but the golden eggs?" Ron pointed to three French Aurors all speaking rather animatedly in French. Fleur Delacour joined in their conversation.

Then Fleur spoke up with a perplexed look on her face. "Ze said they knew this was going to happen."

"The Aurors knew?" Emmeline asked, horrified, holding up her burnt cloak. "Why didn't we?"

Then a French Auror, Harry guessed was commander, answered. "Dumbledore."

"There's got to be an explanation for all this," Ron piped up.

"A few of them didn't make it, but we got the rest through. They're all in the yard." James croaked.

"They'll be all right," Lily sighed as she peeled back Hagrid's coat. The half-giant was rather quiet. She pulled back her hand which was now all bloodied. Hagrid groaned sleepily as she stood up. "Ron, do us a favour and get us some tea."

"Maybe somethin' stronga'," growled Hagrid.

Ron set off to work and Harry silently returned to his bedroom. There wasn't much he could do. He carefully peered out of his little window and he saw over a hundred Aurors stationed outside.

(******)

Lily brushed away her husband's hair when the fire roared and Dumbledore came through.

"Where are you staying? You could've said goodbye before you took off with the kids."

"Dumbledore told me to leave straight away. I can't tell you where I am. We need to protect the children." But Lily wasn't far at all. She was in fact staying with Petunia, next door to Remus's cottage, much to the disgust of Vernon.

"Listen Lily, I don't want you getting upset, but I want you to hear it from me before you see her—"

"Her?" Lily narrowed her eyes. "She's back? Why?"

"Her husband wants to fight."

The guilt and worry showed on James's face and in her heart she was feeling the same. At least he was being honest with her, something which she wasn't doing.

"Just… just keep it friendly." It took a great deal of effort saying those words. And in the back of her mind, she knew James had never been truly over that tart.

James looked back confused. "I thought you were going to hex me."

Oh, I've done a lot worse to you than that. "I think you've been through enough tonight." She patted the top of his head before sitting by his side.

Dumbledore walked around and cleared his throat. "You've all done well. I have to admit, I knew this was going to happen."

"So you knew of an attack?" Lily asked.

"Instinct… tonight's events confirmed that there is indeed a spy in the Order and who it may be."

"Are you sure, Albus?"

He nodded. "The only reason there weren't more deaths on our side is because the law enforcement teams were briefed to be prepared for a possible attack. None of the Auror and Hit Wizard Commanders knew where the groups were going via Portkey, just in case there are spies, no offence, Commander Jehanne."

"None taken."

"Except, the members of the Order of the Phoenix knew the locations they'd be going to." Dumbledore greeted the French Aurors, shaking their hands before continuing on with his story. "I had hand selected the members, and no one knew who they'd be working with until the very last moment. I divided the Order members involved in the mission into three groups of twelve. Each group would rendezvous with the golden eggs in a remote location.

"Then for each group, I added a little more information about the mission. For Coop A, I told them that they'd be meeting with all the golden eggs in one location. For Coop B, I revealed there would be one group of Aurors and one group of Hit Wizards in two locations. Coop C: three locations: two groups of Aurors and one of Hit Wizards. Tonight's attack has thrown light on which group the spy was in."

"Which group is it?" James asked. "I thought we were meeting everyone."

"Coop B: two different locations—two attacks."

"Someone's been a very naughty chicken," Bill remarked.

"Who are the members in Coop B?"

"Charlie and Arthur Weasley, Professor Vector, Madam Hooch, Dedalus, Sturgis Podmore, Kingsley. The new members involved: Roger Tatum, Hunter Smith, Denby O'Bryne, Berniss Dupont, Xanthe Payton, and Worton Coombs."

"Xanthe is an old Order member and prisoner in The Black Square," Lily pointed out. "Denby is a mother of five. Her husband was killed at the Ministry and Roger is a retired Auror. Worton—"

"It could be anyone." Dumbledore frowned. "I need you all to be quiet about this." He looked around at each and every one of them before leaving.

Remus crouched down by their side. "James, do you want to rest a bit?"

"I'm fine, but do fix my eardrum." Then James gripped Remus's arm. "I had an interesting conversation with Greyback."

Lily gasped. "Oh God, James."

Instantly there was a look of fear on the werewolf's face, but it was quickly replaced with worry. "And?"

"He didn't hurt me, but he said he couldn't forget about me."

"Charming," Remus replied dryly. "I'm surprised you got away again."

James scowled. "I killed him."

Remus inhaled sharply as though shocked. "He's… he's dead?"

"Yeah, he's really gone."

Lily could feel James shivering as she rubbed his shoulders. All the while she was thinking that he was so lucky to get away unharmed.

"But…" He locked eyes with her. "He did something to Harry."

"Harry isn't—"

"Greyback didn't bite him—some-something else." James ran a hand through his hair, his mouth opening and closing.

"Harry is a Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle, why would Greyback harm him?" Lily asked. James gazed at her sadly unable to talk.

Remus interrupted, "Harry was not always high ranking though. And it doesn't matter what side you're on, Greyback never discriminated against young, fresh blood."

"What are you saying?" Lily asked angrily. No. No… Greyback could not have harmed him at all!

Remus hesitated. "He wanted revenge when James slipped through his claws and he had found other ways..."

Lily was suddenly nauseous and now she was the one shivering. She stood up, shaking her head. My poor boy.

"Where are you going?" James asked.

"I... I need fresh air."

She sat down on the porch staring at a goat eating Remus's vegetables. Lily remembered Harry running to her as a little boy, sniffling after he had cut his arm playing with Charlie. His too big glasses framed his green, watery eyes, and he couldn't stop crying even after she repaired the small injury. "Oh sweetheart... Mummy will kiss your hurt away," she said. He just looked up, wiped his nose, and smiled. His tears were gone, making the world shine again.

She could not comfort him now. Lily inhaled the cold air, covered her eyes and sobbed. She failed him as a mother. She had to let him go, let him fight, however she had never imagined he would suffer like this.

Lily covered her face and sobbed.

(******)

Looking after the injured took up a great deal of the morning. A few more Order members needing their injuries tended to had Apparated to Remus's with news that fifty Death Eaters had died, and another hundred were now prisoners. A few Aurors had also been killed, or caught by the Death Eaters. The rest were scattered at certain points in the country, with the Order members.

Harry was getting rather bored cooped up in his little bedroom. So he decided to have a nap, and see what other memories he could dig up from his Mirror's mind.

He walked through the mirror and found himself in a dark room. It took a moment for his eyesight to adjust to the dimness of the room and when it did, he found his Mirror sitting in a disused classroom, alone, staring into his open hands. This time, they were clean and not covered in blood.

Harry walked around him and just watched the crest-fallen boy.

"Merlin, you're a nuisance to track down," Malfoy drawled.

The Mirror looked towards the doorway where Malfoy stood. "What do you want?"

Malfoy flicked up a pale eyebrow and strolled in. "You're acting that way with me too now? Weasel and Mudblood—"

"Don't call her that—"

"Whatever." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "They think it's my fault you've turned into a gigantic prick." He sat down on a desk. "Something isn't right with you."

"Nothing's wrong," the Mirror said, bathing the classroom with a spell. "My brothers aren't concerned."

"That's because you hoodwinked them."

The Mirror smile deviously. "I'm quite good at that now."

Malfoy snorted. "But, this isn't you." He shook his head, and his long, pale hair cascaded over his grey eyes. "The Harry I know would be out there looking for the final two Horcruxes."

"That isn't my only concern, Draco."

"It was until Aunty Bella kept summoning you teaching you the Dark Arts. Harry, we only have weeks of school left. You said you wanted the war over by the end of the year. And you won't be able to use magic during the summer—"

"Didn't you hear, Draco? The Ministry's lifted the ban on the age restriction. It'll go down from seventeen to fourteen."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem hunting the final Horcruxes during the summer."

Mirror Harry hopped off the desk. "It will be over… I just want…"

"What?" Malfoy asked with genuine concern. "What do you want? A way out? To get rid of overbearing parents? Don't we all—"

"My parents give me space."

"But they only do it because of your destiny. Do you want power? You have power."

"Not enough of it," Mirror Harry corrected. "I want to be great, greater than our master, greater than Dumbledore." His green eyes almost glowed in the dim classroom. "Could you imagine what I can accomplish, what we could do?"

Malfoy stared in disbelief. "You're insane. You need to find the real locket."

The Mirror kicked over a chair in anger, sending a plume of dust into the air. "Everyone needs to give me a break. I'm doing all I can."

"No you're not. You're more interested in developing your ability and learning the Dark Arts."

The Mirror unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. He reached down deep into the front of his robes and pulled out a gold locket. "This is the real one."

"Really?" Malfoy's eyes widened.

Mirror Harry nodded, caressing the locket with his fingers. "I found it in my godfather's house two months ago. R.A.B was Sirius's brother, Regulus Arcturus Black."

"That's fantastic! What made you look there?"

"I was thinking about it the initials and I remembered Sirius showing me his room when I was little and he had the initials on the door."

"You have destroyed it, right?" asked Draco, stepping forward, fingers almost touching the locket.

But the Mirror covered the locket in his fist, drawing it back to his chest. "Yes."

However, Harry knew that locket was still a Horcrux. Moments before he had watched his Mirror trace the S with his fingertip. He knew all to well the destructive power of the locket Horcrux not to sympathise with his Mirror's reluctance to destroy it. With his growing power, his darkness, Mirror Harry would've felt at one with the piece of Voldemort's soul.

Malfoy laughed, grinning, not taking further note of the near pristine locket. "One left! Dumbledore must be pleased—"

"He doesn't know I have it," the Mirror said quietly. "Draco, I want this to be kept between us."

"Why?"

He closed his distance with Malfoy. "Because I am sick of him treating me like a puppet. He's spying on me now… I wouldn't be surprised if he asked you—"

"No he hasn't. I'm just worried about you."

But Harry felt his Mirror didn't quite believe Malfoy. "I want to do things my way now. I want the war to end on my terms."

"Potter…" Malfoy smirked, acting nostalgic. "You know what's even stranger than the fact that I actually don't want to see you dead? It's that we've become friends. So don't screw up, and," he motioned towards the locket, "do us a favour and destroy that damned thing."

Harry laughed loudly at his Mirror's shocked expression. Malfoy was smarter than he looked, sometimes.

A mirror shone on the blackboard and Harry climbed his way through it, ending up back into his bedroom. He lay down in his bed, expecting to wake up, but he blinked at the ceiling. Knowing his Mirror would come through. Harry heard the rustling of robes.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine. You?"

"Never better," the Mirror said, pacing the room. "Still sleeping, but I can hear them all now, more clearly than before. Snape's giving me news everyday. Draco talks about Emily as though he wants to fuck her. He's never stopped trying."

"Do you still have Voldemort's wand?"

"I'm not sure if the Dark Lord has taken it back. I don't need it anyway."

"Really? Can you use the Dark Arts without one?"

"Most of it, you've seen me use some against you."

"How can I forget?" Harry frowned. "I have more questions."

"You are a never-ending supply of questions. I reckon you would've become a good Auror."

"That is what I'm planning to become."

The smirk was wiped right off the wizard's face. There was silence and Harry grew a little nervous.

"I wanted to be an Auror once, before I found out how corrupt they were. Then I—"

"Then you screwed everything up."

The boy scowled. "No, that was Dumbledore's fault."

"Didn't seem like it was from what I've seen so far."

"You have no idea!" the Mirror snarled, rage blazing in his green eyes.

"Just because you turned into a Death Eater—"

"You only know half the truth—"

"Why don't you show me the other half then," Harry retaliated. If only he could cut through the bullshit and get some straightforward answers. "What did those memories mean to you?"

"That memory of me going back to Hogwarts covered in blood? We were advancing Voldemort's army and abducting people. That memory showed Dumbledore starting to doubt me and my power."

"I'm not surprised, really. I wouldn't show up covered in a Muggle's blood and boast about it, and then continue finding Horcruxes. Had you found the real locket by then?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you destroy the locket?"

"It intensified my power."

"You once said you changed during the summer, people say you turned bad in sixth year, but these memories show you changed before that."

The Mirror smirked. "My Death Eater training was complete by the start of sixth year. And after the Chamber opened, I was already commanding missions. It was awesome!"

"So you really did turn into a Death Eater." Harry was disgusted. "Have you any idea what destruction you've caused?"

"I still wanted to destroy Voldemort—"

"You wanted to destroy him, but you wanted to take over. Dumbledore was right to be worried."

"I part of me did, but I avoided killing people for as long as I could, I was interested in control, in power, than death and torture."

"You corrupted yourself."

"Harry, after everything Dumbledore's done to you, why are you still defending him?"

"Because having a choice between trusting you or him, I pick Dumbledore," he replied. "Look, I hate what he did to me. That bit we can't dispute over."

"Are you going to forgive him?" the Mirror asked.

He thought about it. "I don't know. But, hey, let's talk about what you did to me—"

"You're still under his control," the Mirror said in disgust. "You are pathetic! And you know why?"

"Tell me," Harry hissed.

"Because if it's going to happen again. Dumbledore will do it again to save his precious world. We are nothing but pawns to him. And once broken, we're discarded of."

"He hasn't given up on you. That's why I'm here helping you."

"Against your will, I might add. How can you justify that? Yet you sit around here, twiddling your thumbs waiting to get better."

"What exactly do you want me to do, Harry?"

The Mirror pursed his lips, eyes full of rage.

"You don't know either. Yeah, you want to fight him or battle him, hurt him for what he did to you, whatever that was. Yes you even escape this nightmare, but it's not going to end the war. People are still going to die."

"You're weak."

"Just get out of my head. I've had enough of you." Harry was about to disappear when his Mirror outstretched his hand, grabbing his arm.

"Wait—don't go yet," he demanded. "I haven't finished."

"Well I have. You're too much work. Remus says you're helping me through my Dark phase—"

"I've been trying."

"What a great way of doing it. Fantastic! I feel like a changed man." He could see his black power seeping from him, from the reflection in his Mirror's eyes.

"You're not above me." The Mirror glowered. "You need to fight through the anger and hurt to control it. It's the only way you'll get through this fucking phase. Learn to calm it."

"HOW?" Harry barked.

"Little steps at a time." The Mirror's grip tightened on his arm. "Concentrate on the task on hand, and not on the black feelings. It's like you're very first lesson in magic all over again. Remember how hard it was?"

Harry yanked his arm away defensively. "How the hell can you tell me this, when you haven't even gotten through yours yet?"

"I have other problems that are holding me back. You're different; I know you can handle it better than I have. All you need to feel your power. Feel it like your beating heart and when you do, you can control it." He smirked. "Or you're going to fall just like I did."

"I'm not a Death Eater," Harry protested. "And I know what it felt like having that Horcrux around my neck too, and I didn't let it take over."

The Mirror cocked his head, glaring at Harry. He had a sudden manic, amused expression on his face. It was creepy. "Only that one Horcrux?"

Infuriated, Harry broke the connection.

He smashed a fist into his mattress, feeling his Mirror's ghostly touch on his arm. He wasn't going to fall. Harry was determined to get back on track and beat this phase.

Harry shot up and saw Cotter at the foot of the bed, waiting.

"Are you okay? It seemed as though you were having a nightmare."

He rubbed his eyes. "No, it definitely wasn't a nightmare."

She unclasped her carpet bag, pulling out potions, salves and fresh bandages and dressings. "You know the routine."

Cotter was always so methodical in the way she did things. While Harry thought it was all embarrassing and tedious, she changed his dressings without a bother. He was sure that even the goriest of wounds wouldn't put a grimace on her face.

He sat out of bed, arms raised as Cotter bandaged his torso.

"How much longer before I'm healed?"

"You're managing well so far." She paused for a moment. "Let's try a different salve for your back. It may make you itchy—"

"Maybe not," Harry said.

"Alright, if you're not game for it, I'll research for something else. There has to be something that can help."

She turned around after he pulled his clothes on. The lamplight caught on her hair as she sat down in the armchair, relaxing a little.

"Am I well enough to go home?" he asked. "Can I speed up that Tantibus Mentis Potion—?"

"Are you eating better? You need to put on another…" she consulted her notebook, flicking through the pages, "ten pounds."

"But this is how much I'd normally weigh after every summer," Harry shrugged.

"Potter, you're not living with the Dursleys, you are under my care. Besides, you're fatigued and weakened."

"I'm much better."

"But your wounds continue to trouble you."

"And that's nothing I can't live with."

"You're still unsteady walking without the cane," she pointed out. "Have you been doing the exercises I told you? I know it's difficult—"

"I have, every morning." Harry exercised and did gentle weight training every day to strengthen his muscles.

"And how have your sessions been with Healer Spratt?"

"I feel heaps better. That potion is starting to help me feel less—"

"Moody? Yes, I've noticed you've improved," she sighed. "I've spoken with Demus, so since you are in the Dark phase, the potion will take longer to take an effect. That's why will you need to take it for a few weeks."

"That's fine, but I can take the potion back to my world," Harry said, pulling on his sneakers.

Cotter stood up, glaring at him. She was inches shorter than Harry, yet she now had a staunch look which reviled McGonagall's when she was mad. "You will stay here for another seven weeks."

"But—"

"No buts Potter! Do you want to win your war?"

"Yes, but—"

"Well it's settled then," she decided. "I don't want to hear you protesting again."

He stared at her iron features. Why couldn't they just let him go back?

"I cannot discharge you from my care until I'm satisfied with your condition. Dumbledore wholeheartedly agrees with me—No don't look at me like that, Potter, he has no authority over this."

"Well," he scoffed, "this explains your attitude today: it's Dumbledore!"

"Potter, he just wants to see you better," she said softly. "You need rest and serenity—"

"How am I supposed to rest when I know my world's in trouble? How many of my friends have died since I've arrived here?"

"It's a risk you must take." Cotter looked at him reproachfully. "I want to give you a fighting chance, and at the moment You-Know-Who will overpower you in an instant."

"He won't. I'm a Mage."

Cotter hissed, pushing her finger on his lightening bolt scar so hard, that Harry whipped his head back. "So what?"

He suddenly got a glimpse of the Atoner she used to be, when she tormented him in prison. He shivered, suddenly remembering the trapdoor and the interrogations every night. Surprisingly, he didn't feel as bad as before he started the potion.

"You're not invincible and You-Know-Who is just as powerful. Now sit down and rest!"

Harry quickly did what he was told.

Cotter suddenly gasped, realising what she had done. "Potter, I'm sorry—"

"Don't bother."

Seconds later there was a knock on the door. James entered, looking better, but his arm was in a sling and there was a nasty cut on his forehead. "Arguing about something?"

"It was nothing important." His reply was rather surlier than he wanted to sound.

"Listen, Dumbledore—"

"You can go back and tell him that I want my wand back, and my things and that bloody book," Harry fired back.

(******)

After the injured Order members and the Aurors had left, Snape trained him. He had to admit, this was the only thing Dumbledore had done that he was happy to do, despite Snape being the person to teach him.

Except today Harry didn't run around avoiding spells, Snape had him try out some sort of Tibetan meditation to control his power.

It didn't work as much as he hoped. There was a tedious incantation that he had to repeat in thought, and he had to focus on his inner spirit. He gave up half way through. It was way beyond his comprehension and Snape pounced on this weakness, remarking on how useless he was.

Harry was grimacing by the time he flopped onto his bed again. He pulled out a golf ball from his pocket and clanged it onto his bedside table. But it rolled away, bouncing heavily on the floor, where he left it.

After the failed Tibetan version of meditation, Snape tried out a more Westernised form and placed a golf ball in front of him. He told Harry to pretend the ball was his power.

That didn't go down well. The ball exploded in a fiery glow which had ricochet Snape across the yard and burnt several shrubs.

The sallow, hook-nosed Death Eater was furious, and so was he. Snape told him to practice the same meditation until he stopped exploding things and stopped being a dim-witted fool with the brain the size of a tick.

Harry sat up in bed, his fingers tracing his lightening bolt scar. It was then he noticed a letter sitting on his armchair. Harry stared at the letter intensely as though he wanted it to burst into flame. Judging by the long thin handwriting, it was from Dumbledore. He sighed and plucked the letter gingerly, mulling over whether he should open it or not.

He quickly looked around his bed, but his wand was nowhere to be found, nor his little pouch, or that Portkey book nearby. It was just the letter, which he reluctantly ripped it open.

Dear Harry,

I respect your decision not to see me. However, I suggest you have a closer look at my gift. I had tinkered with it day and night for many days with Professor Flitwick and Saul Croaker. I am sure you will find it very useful.

Yours sincerely,

Albus

Harry had walked right over to the box sitting under Ron's bed. What did Dumbledore mean he had tinkered with the Put-Outer?

Heart beating rapidly, curiosity was beginning to nibble at the edges of his mind. The Put-Outer was Dumbledore's invention and as Harry and his friends had experienced many months before, it not only removed and added sources of light, but it is also a beacon of light for the lost person seeking their way back home.

He pulled out the Put-Outer out of the box and clicked it a few times, watching the orbs of light from the ceiling light and the lamp zoom in and out.

"I want to go back home, can you help me?" he whispered as he continued clicking it.

Nothing… Darkness… Light…

Maybe the Put-Outer was the way back home. Harry scoffed at his own stupidity. That didn't sound right. Dumbledore didn't want him to go back yet. The object was unique, but it couldn't be that powerful. Besides, did he want to go home without saying goodbye to his Mirror parents first?

Harry changed tact.

"Hel-hello?" Nothing. "Ron? Hello Ron, can you hear me?" Nothing. "Hermione? Anyone?"

Harry rolled his eyes and tried again. Afterall, he didn't have anything else to lose.

"Hello? Ron. Ron, speak to me!"

Suddenly, a crackling sound began emitting from the Put-Outer. Heart fluttering, he continued clicking it. "Hello… Ron?"

His voice bounced back eerily, as though it was travelling through a tunnel. The Put-Outer started to vibrate in his hand.

The crackling smoothed out now, and it sounded like a bit of white noise in the background.

"Ha-Harry? At first the voice was faint and it sounded like there were several Rons speaking at once. But Harry's heart almost jumped out of his chest.

"RON!"

"Harry?" the voice sounded shocked. But it was stronger and clearer now.

"Ron, it's me!"

"HARRY?"

"Yes!"

"NO WAY! No f-f-fucking way—Fucking hell!" Ron yelled, catching Harry off guard. "Hermione—HERRRRRMMMMMMIONNE, COME QUICK!"

"Ron, can you hear me okay?" Harry bellowed back. He held onto the Put-Outer so tight, he was vaguely afraid of crushing it. He was trembling, so glad to hear his best friend's voice again.

"I CAN HEAR YOU, HARRY! YOU ALRIGHT—? HERMIONE!"

Harry heard muffled footsteps.

"I'm coming, what's the urgency?"

Harry smiled, because just hearing Hermione's voice made everything so much better again.

And now their voices sounded as clear as a day without the damned Dementor mist.

"IT'S HARRY!" Ron was laughing ecstatically.

"WHAT? Ron that is NOT funny—!"

"I'M NOT KIDDING! You won't believe this; he's contacted us with the Put-Outer. See, I wasn't going daft when I thought I should keep clicking it every minute or so."

"Hermione, he definitely isn't bonkers," Harry said, grinning.

"Oh My God!" she squeaked. 'IT CAN'T REALLY BE!"

"It's true." Harry stared at the Put-Outer.

"T-t-t-this is amazing!"

He burst into laughter, so happy to hear their voices, alive and well.

"Oh Harry, where are you?" Hermione sounded as though she was in the verge of tears. "We've been worried sick about you. What happened?"

"I'm in a Mirror Universe."

Ron gasped. "You were right, Hermione."

"Hmmm. We stayed in the Giant's Cut for days waiting for you to return," she said sadly. "Each of the floating books takes you to a Mirror Universe. Oh and Harry, that blue mist, although rare, is not uncommon in other parts of the world. It prevents aging and it was one of the ingredients used in the Philosopher's Stone—that's why the books look brand new—"

"Did any of it say how to get back home?"

"Rowena wrote a riddle on the chamber floor that glowed when you disappeared. Basically, when the transportee was ready, the answer would stare them in the face."

"Yeah, well, I think the transportee wouldn't be in a healthy frame of mind to be solving riddles like that," he said.

"Harry, are you alright, safe?" He could hear the concern in her voice.

"I'm…" He could've told her everything, poured his heart out to his friends. "I'm fine."

"What's it like there, mate?" Ron asked.

"Scary. It's a horrible world. War has been raging for twenty-eight years here because Neville died as a baby and my Mirror is a murderous Death Eater."

"Oh my!" Hermione said in shock. "Well, you must find a way back soon. You've been gone for two months!"

"Yeah I know, Dumbledore will help me soon, once I've fully recovered—"

"Dumbledore? He's alive—?"

"What do you mean, recovered? Are you hurt?" Hermione shouted over Ron.

"Look, it's a long story. And it's one I don't want to talk about now. But I'm safe, and I'm staying with Mirror Remus."

"Are you hurt?" She was curt and anxiously wanted answers fast.

There was no use lying. "Yes, but I'm being taken care of."

"How—?" Ron started, though again, Hermione seized the conversation.

"You need to get well, Harry. But if you don't get back soon, we'll be having a twenty-eight year war as well. We have four Horcruxes to find, still!"

Harry felt the Put-Outer start to flicker again, and it trembled in his hand.

"How are you guys? What's happening there?"

"We're fine…" Hermione breathed in deeply. "The students were forced back to Hogwarts for the new year, although many have chosen not to return at their own risk. The teachers were forced back at wand point. Not only are the Carrows in charge of discipline, but a few other Death Eaters have joined the faculty and are torturing students. There's this horrible French Death Eater named Julien Roux who has taken over Astronomy, he's worse than the Carrows from what we've heard… the first years are particularly scared of him."

Harry felt sick. He knew that in this world Julian and Vera Roux were part of the Notorious Thirteen. They were sadistic and predatory with young children. "This is insane!" Harry said furiously. "The Ministry—"

"The Ministry is now almost taken over by You-Know-Who. Many are Imperioused, and we don't know who can be trusted. The Order just can't do anything about Hogwarts. We don't have the strength without you. People are giving up."

"Do they know where I am?"

"The only person in the Order we've told is Kingsley."

Harry heard Ron whimper and Hermione told him to shut up.

"What's happened?"

"It's just, if anyone is caught with the knowledge of you in another universe, it would be disaster for our side. It's been chaos trying to control the damage already."

"Yeah, it's for the best," Ron repeated, clearing his throat.

Harry had a bad feeling they were hiding something from him. "What else is happening at Hogwarts?"

Hermione cleared her throat as well. "Harry, most our year had to repeat due to failing several subjects taught by the Death Eaters. They've chosen to return to Hogwarts and recruit as many as they possibly can into the DA. Neville is leader and he's adamant that he wants to start an uprising. I think many of the teachers are on his side. He's the only friend who knows you're missing… we had to tell him everything, since he was a part of the prophecy, in case—"

"I never come back," Harry grimaced. "Tell him to wait til I'm there for a rebellion." Pride filled him at the thought of Neville taking control. But then dread took over. "Any deaths?"

The crackling started again.

"Colin and Lavender and a couple of others as apparent tragic accidents, but really, the Carrows had tortured them to death. Seamus and Neville were in bad shape. The Patil twins were tortured—they're both helping the students at Hogwarts. Dean was caught by Snatchers and Luna's still missing.'

Then Ron added, "a few from our year have been captured for defying You-Know-Who, and are held in the Hogwarts dungeons. Muggleborns have been forced to return to Hogwarts are now held captive—"

"They are used to practice torture techniques on," Hermione said sadly. "You-Know-Who is rumoured to be controlling Diagon Alley and there have been several attacks on Muggles and parts of the country have been destroyed, wizards are missing, or murdered, and—and Mr Weasley and Remus have been captured— Oh Harry, please come quick!"

"Hermione you shouldn't have told him!" Ron chastised as she sniffled.

Ron's dad? It was a blow and it momentarily knocked the wind out of Harry. Mr Weasley had become a great mentor for him over the last few years, kind and gentle, funny, but always by Harry's side. Remus…? Harry's heart ached for him for Tonks.

"I'm sorry, Harry, it's just been too much without you here. We thought we would never see you again."

"Ron, I'm so sorry mate. Give me few more weeks and I'll be back."

"You better be back soon! You-Know-Who's spreading rumours you've deserted us. Everyone hates you, and many are joining him, thinking our side is futile."

"I'm used to the hate," he gritted. "I know a bit more about the Horcruxes. The first Horcrux is Hufflepuff's cup, that one is at Gringotts, in the Lestranges vault, but don't get that one."

"Why?" Ron asked.

The echoing started again. Harry knew that time was running out with the connection.

"Just wait til I get back. Vol—You-Know-Who will know, since I don't think taking it will be a breeze, especially with the goblins and all."

The Put-Outer shuddered and the crackling got louder.

"Can you hear me?" Harry shouted. They responded. "The diadem is at Hogwarts, in the Room of Requirement. Contact Neville—use the DA coin—get the DA to look for it. They'll be able to destroy it—"

"With what? I'm rather reluctant giving up the sword of Gryffindor—"

"Wait! We won't have to," Ron interrupted. "I bet you there's a basilisk fang somewhere in the Chamber of Secrets."

"Ron? You're brilliant! I could kiss you right now!"

"What's stoping you?"

"Guys!" He wasn't sure how close his friends relationship had gotten, but now wasn't the time to ask. "Tell Neville to go into the Chamber of Secrets. The word, 'open' in Parseltongue is…" Harry closed his eyes, imagined Nagini slithering in front of him and hissed out the word. "Listen, Nagini might be a Horcrux, I think we'll have to kill it during the confrontation with You-Know-Who."

"How did you find out about the locations of the cup and diadem?"

"My Mirror had been searching for Horcruxes too. It looks like our time-line, up to the point of Sirius becoming Secret Keeper instead of Peter was the same."

The Puter-Outer started to emit a low whistling sound and Harry noticed it growing hot. He did not have long to speak with his friends, and in his heart he didn't want to stop hearing them.

"Mate, You-Know-Who is desperate to find you. He's probably torturing my dad and Remus to find out your whereabouts," his voice trembled. "We've had to take turns pretending to be you in the last month, so everyone knows you're still around."

"Well, it's not like I have a choice in the matter," Harry snapped. "I'll get back soon."

The whistling from the Put-Outer grew louder and louder, and the heat was almost unbearable, but Harry didn't want to let go, even if it meant burning his hands to a crisp.

"Harry, we're staying at Bill's— Shell Cottage—Go there," Hermione said quickly.

There was a crackling sound and the Put-Outer grew so hot that Harry could not hold on much longer. "I've got to go— ouch— the Put-Outer here is dying!"

"So is ours."

"I just want to say—"

"We know, Harry. We miss you so much. Take care," Hermione said. "We love you."

"I think we should duck now," Ron yelled.

Harry let go, his hands scalded. The Put-Outer vibrated violently, hovering in the air, emitting an excruciatingly loud whistling sound. White streaks of light poured out of it.

He ducked in time, before the Put-Outer then exploded in a ball of blinding white light. Bits of plaster and glass rained onto his head. He guessed all the windows throughout the house had been shattered.

Then everything was calm again. Except, he could hear a couple of dogs howling in the distance and several Muggle car and house alarms, from distant farms, had gone off.

"HARRY!" people yelled.

He shook off the shards of glass and metal off his body. Harry looked around in shock, as Remus, Ron and Tony burst into the bedroom.

"What the hell?" Ron gasped, seeing all the damage.

"I contacted my friends," Harry replied ruefully, a little embarrassed.

He looked at the totally destroyed Put-Outer pieces, scattered everywhere. Its metallic pieces had punctured through furniture and walls, some twisted and melted. There was a haze of dust around, and pillow stuffing fluttered in the air.

But Harry couldn't care about the state of the bedroom. He had heard his best friends' voices, alive and well, and that lifted his spirit more so than any amount of Tantibus Mentis potion could ever do.

31. Truth Will Out

Truth Will Out

The Dark Lord paced the headmaster's office as Severus stood over the corpse of a French Auror he had brought in.

"I never understand why people choose to die over revealing their secrets."

It's called loyalty. "The Veritiserum your servants made was below par."

The Dark Lord was unimpressed. "I will speak with the potion makers, Tietler and Mortado… I'm disappointed… this means it will be harder to wring useful information out of the prisoners. Nevertheless, Aurors would've been well trained to push through the effects of the potion. Can you create more Veritiserum?"

"No my Lord, it has been extremely difficult getting hold of the required ingredients. Stocks have been dwindling for the Veritiserum, Polyjuice and even Healing potions for years, and other countries have recently put in embargos and strict protocols for the ingredients from entering England, or for English persons acquiring them overseas."

"The lax border securities have tightened. I will get a group to raid apothecaries in Europe. Strict protocols and embargoes are nothing compared with Dark magic."

Severus kept quiet, eyes roving around the room. The Sorting Hat sat on a cupboard covered in cobwebs from disuse with the other objects and books on Mages. He saw a dusty gold cup and a brown skull. Fawke's old perch stood in a shadowy corner. In a cupboard, with a door wide open, he saw a long scroll. He recognised it as the Hogwarts Student Roll. His Master had carefully moved it into Dumbledore's office. It was still working, the magical quill was writing down the details of magical babies born at that very moment.

"My Lord, may I have a look at the scroll?" he asked.

"Go ahead. I'm sure you'd like to see your child's name."

Severus gingerly perused the old scrolls in the cupboard.

He noticed many Muggle-born names had been scratched off in red ink. He read through the dates and names in silence.

And there it was, next to all the other potential students born on that same day.

Jessica Potter – Lily Potter and Severus Snape. Half-blood.

He traced the names with his finger, staring at the green writing, with an uncomfortable ball of emotion sitting in his stomach. This was a very clever spell, that his master did not recognise when he had removed the other charm protecting the Muggle-borns.

Severus leaned forward with a sigh and it was then he noticed it, because if he had blinked, he would've missed it entirely. He moved his finger over the writing again, and saw it ripple slightly when his finger paused over his name. Again he waved his finger on it, and this time the letters changed.

Jessica Potter – Lily and James Potter…

He moved his finger away in shock and saw the letters morph.

For your eyes only, Snivellus.

He inhaled sharply. "Potter!" he said under his breath. That conniving, miserable boy was the one who had tricked his own mother.

"Yes, I know, Severus," the Dark Lord said, eyes blazing red, "I was shocked as well. But the child is yours and she is under my protection."

Looking down again, the letters had changed back to reveal Severus's name as the father. He blinked and straightened up, seeing his master's amused, lipless smile.

"She is under my protection..." The words blanketed his mind.

"There was an Order meeting this evening and it seems James Potter will be gone from the Order for three days. I know he's been working for Grindelwald. I will have my servants find out what he's been up to. I have reason to suspect he may be organising a takeover of Gringotts."

If Severus wasn't so worried about his life, he would've laughed. "Potter isn't that cunning to be staging such a dangerous—"

"I want him tracked down and captured. To have Gringotts fall into the hands of Grindelwald will be disastrous for us."

Voldemort never ceased to test his loyalty. He would tell James Potter to be extra careful, nothing more.

"Gringotts is far too important for us. And holding the public's money at ransom, will in the long run be good for us."

(******)

Minister Amelia looked around at the crammed kitchen filled with Order members. "Our meeting with the Muggles has been productive. We've decided to create alarms that will be distributed to Muggles in the coming week. These will automatically go off if Dementors or Death Eaters are present, alerting our law enforcement and the Muggle army.

"It will, however, be an arduous task, as we will need to make millions of these alarms. They will be a simple red disc which will be attached to the middle of the street.

"Every Order member will need to report to Professor Flitwick to learn how to make them. The French Ministry has agreed to help with the quota. We will then have an automatic production line running non-stop til we reach the quota. These alarms will be mailed via the Muggle way." Amelia added. "I think that's it from me, Dumbledore."

"Excellent, Amelia," he said.

But of course what the Minister said was partly the truth. With the spy in the Order they could not reveal their plan too much. These alarms would be made entirely off shore, in secret, by the Australian, New Zealand Ministries, and would be blue in colour and distributed to every household. Those made here, will be tampered with by the spy.

"When will the rest of the European Aurors and Hit Wizards arrive?"

Amelia's eyes darkened. "Soon." Things had to be put on hold until the spy was caught.

"On a final note, because James Potter will not be teaching for the next few days, I will be teaching Defence classes," Dumbledore continued.

"Has he had contact with his family?" the Minister asked.

"No." There were whispers around the room.

The meeting ended with a buzz of general chatter. Kingsley and Charlie found him as he made his way out of the tight throng in the kitchen.

"Charlie has some interesting news," Kingsley announced to Dumbledore.

"Five Horntail dragon eggs have been stolen," Charlie said. "My mate saw three Death Eaters risk their lives getting the eggs. Brave, but utter morons. One was killed when the mother impaled him."

"Voldemort will rear them for battle," Dumbledore said, alarmed.

"But Voldemort's had dragons before with unsuccessful results."

"Yes, but this time they had have also kidnapped a Jordanian dragon handler," Charlie warned.

"Charlie how long will it take for them to be fully grown?"

"About six months. But they're deadly enough by a week."

Dumbledore nodded. "Excuse me gentlemen, I must get going, but thank you for the news."

It was time to play his little spy catching game. He had already played the game with Arthur and Charlie, Professor Vector and Madam Hooch. As he suspected, none of them was the spy.

He soon found Roger Tatum, an overweight, surly retired Auror, missing four fingers on his wand hand. "Roger, my good man," he said, shaking his hand.

"Dumbledore," Roger said, his voice was gruff and unpolished. "Got news about my grandson, Declan?"

"Yes, in fact, we've discovered in the last day that Declan has been with the Cadwalladers. Bob has him and he'll be facing the cliff soon."

Terror widened the old Auror's eyes. "One of the Thirteen? They'll pay, every fucking one of them!" Roger promised as he pulled an old pipe from his robe pocket with shaking fingers. "I'll track them scums tonight."

"Careful Roger, Bob will make things difficult. Organise a group and I want to give you a galleon that will act as a messenger directly to me, if you want to rescue him tonight." Dumbledore pulled out the galleon, while making sure a little note also fell to the ground. "If you are in trouble, simply touch the coin, whisper your message and my coin will automatically warm up. Its message will glow in writing."

"Ingenious!" Roger pocketed the coin with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you discovered the Death Eater who almost killed me and Ned?"

He shook his head. "Are you sure you were hit with the Killing Curse when they abducted Declan?"

"Dead serious. Ned saw him curse me. It was definitely the curse, and that Death Eater was too high up to fuck up a curse like that!" Roger was about to smoke his pipe when he pointed at the floor. "You dropped a note, Dumbledore. I'd be careful about that if I was you."

"How silly of me, thank you for telling me, Roger." He picked up the note, in time to see Roger walk out of the room.

He played the same trick minutes later on Worton Coombs. They chatted away happily on the pros and cons of crochet.

"Wait, Albus," Worton said softly as Dumbledore walked away. "You've dropped something." Worton picked it up and handed it to Dumbledore with a big toothless grin.

(******)

Harry was late.

He rushed down the path to train with Snape after a late lunch with Lily.

"You decided to show up." Snape checked his watch. "Ten minutes late... now sit it down," he commanded, fingers in his pocket.

Harry sat on the grass, wondering what this exercise was about, when the wizard placed a small golf ball a metre in front of him.

"Again?" he groaned. He had practiced twice that morning, and three times the day before. So far he had managed not to damage the ball that morning. His best result yet. These training sessions were becoming tedious. Either it was all about meditation or physical training.

"Stop asking questions and do as you're told!" Snape admonished. "We are going to continue doing it until it works. Now, stare at the ball for a few moments. Then, close your eyes still envisioning it there—Potter, I can see you seething. You need to stop thinking about me and focus on the task."

Snape was right. This was why he had failed Occlumency. He inhaled slowly and exhaled, before staring at the ball.

"Close your eyes."

Harry obeyed and heard Snape's boots treading on the grass as he moved around him.

"Slow your breathing and clear your mind as we discussed. And focus only on the ball and nothing else."

He focused on it in his mind's eye. It was gleaming white with the little pockmark pattern. He drowned out the sound of the wind, and the leaves rustling around him and smothered the sound of a tweeting bird flying above. He focused on the ball and nothing else. He didn't even notice that his heart was slowing, while his mind was clearing.

"Now focus your magic on that ball… Imagine that ball is your power… That ball is control."

Harry concentrated on nothing but that ball, pretending it was the centre of his uncontrolled magic.

"Potter," he distantly heard, "pull back your magic. You're going to destroy it."

Little steps at a time, Harry thought.

"Feel your power… like your beating heart… learn to control it."

He decided to try and do just that. Feel his power. Most of the time, he could only feel his emotions, that he ended up missing the surge of his deadly power.

He tuned into his heartbeat, and then there was a sort of lull in his mind, as though he was between sleep and consciousness. That was when he slowly began to become aware of it. At first it was coming from his heart, it felt like a wave of light warmth coursing through every cell in his body with every beat. He felt it through his veins, with every breath and with every twitch of his eyes. It felt like soft steam hitting his face from a mug of hot chocolate on a winter's day.

"Pull it back now!"

Yes. I can feel it. He felt his magic was way too strong to control the ball. Harry did as Snape instructed, he reeled it back, just enough, letting the tingle of warmth, his power, be reabsorbed into his body again.

He felt lightened, happy and at peace.

"Open your eyes."

Harry gasped. He was floating metres above ground and so was the ball. They were surrounded in a grey of aura of his Mage magic. Not black as it usually was.

"What—?"

He felt himself falling slowly.

"Focus—don't think," Snape spat, as panic was starting to rise in Harry. "You're doing well. Continue controlling the ball and return to the ground."

Slowly, he urged the ball to sink, still in tune with his power. Harry returned to the ground. With his arse firmly back on earth, he then took a deep breath.

"Great work." Snape crossed his arms, staring down at him.

"So those few minutes meditating finally worked?"

"Minutes?" Snape's eyebrows rose. "You were meditating for an hour and a half."

In shock, Harry stood up, wobbly, still a little light headed. "Wow!"

"I suspect five or more meditation sessions, longer than today's, before you are in full control. Let's see you put your magic into practice. But we're going to go back to basics, today: with a wand. Here." Snape pulled out a battered old wand and handed over.

As soon as he touched the battered, old wand, he felt a connection with it.

"You only need to overcome this hurdle and you'll pass the phase. You're doing much better than your Mirror did."

While the Mirror world was crumbling with Grindelwald attacks, Death Eaters killing Grindelwald supporters' families, mass muggle murders in Germany and child abductions in Europe, Dementors lurking around Ottery St Catchpole, and a gruesome scene of a dozen dead, naked Muggle-born slaves appearing in a busy muggle street in Paris, Harry was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He let out a small whistle of relief.

Snape pulled off his travelling cloak. "Now, I think you're ready." He aimed his wand at Harry.

(******)

As Snape had predicted, it took Harry another seven intense meditation sessions, each lasting five hours, before he was eighty percent in control of his ability. He was by far, not the most competent of Mages, but he was learning a lot and he was in awe at what he had achieved in short period of time. Most of all, he surprised that it was the least favourite person in the world who had helped him.

Harry pulled out the battered old wand Snape had given him, Holly and Unicorn hair. He thought that using another person's wand would be difficult, but then Snape said that natural Mages could connect easily with any wand they chose to yield. It seemed Wand magic bowed to Mages.

Snape had also given Harry a book he had found in the Restricted Section about Mages: Secrets of the Mágos. Underneath the title there was a gilded moving drawing of a snake eating its own tail.

"No wand today, Potter."

"Er…"

Snape sighed in anger. "You need confidence being a Mage."

While he was glad to be in control of his power, he was still reluctant to use it.

"Have you read the book I gave you?"

"Only a little bit," he answered honestly. Harry didn't get much reading done, and whatever he had read he had already learnt from his Mirror's memories. Although some points that have stuck in his mind was that the Dark Phase, was not only the most dangerous, it was also a test, because a true Mage must be a benefit to humanity. Not its destroyer.

There were also eleven other levels a Mage could accomplish throughout their lifetime and could be passed in any order. Through each phase, their aura of power displays a different colour, hence why Harry's was black at that moment. He also learnt that to die trying to fulfil a phase could have catastrophic consequences.

"Read it all, quickly. I put my life at risk obtaining that book!"

"I will, I will! I do have a question though. Is wand magic different?"

"There is a different fingerprint between the powers. A wand helps control and focus magic by binding it with the properties of the wand. Mages control it from within their bodies. There are some people who can control it without a wand, but it doesn't make them Mages."

"Did my magic always have a different imprint?"

"Slightly. Though in the beginning, your power is like anyone's. Then as you begin realising your ability—the magic evolves, matures into what you truly are—you're not just using the power within you, you are using it from everything around us. Some argue that using a wand means less concentration and energy on the Mage, because you're not forced to pull the magic from everything, just the wand's."

"Interesting."

"As a Mage you are almost fully utilising the wand's power. Most powerful, skilled wizards only use fifty percent of its power. You can use more than ninety."

"Right…" Harry just stared at his wand.

"Potter, what you have is ancient magic: complicated, pure, but extremely powerful. Mages predate wizards, and wizards in turn, are the weaker version of you—dulled down by thousands of years of inbreeding."

Snape held his wand high, and gave it a casual flick.

Harry instantly thought of repelling the spell. A Shield Charm ignited and a golden sphere protected him. It bounced the spell, making the Death Eater jump out of the way, before the spell hit a crate, blasting it into pieces.

Snape stared at the crate. "There's a rumour your Mirror can make a Shield Charm so powerful it can withstand the Killing Curse."

"That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible when you're a Mage."

Harry disagreed with that. He was sure he wouldn't be able to bring back the dead.

"Your Mirror had created some extremely powerful magic that keep the Dark Lord's enemies out. Hogwarts is full of his enchantments and curses."

Harry bit his lip. Maybe if he could convince his Mirror to bring down them down, the Order could get through.

"Now, the beauty of your ability is that you don't need a particular spell for your power to work. You only need the idea of it. If you so wish, you could create a fireball that shoots shards of melted glass, simply using your hands. Try it."

Harry outstretched his hands thinking of a beautiful fireball. He took a deep breath and focused on his power, willing for a perfect ball of fire to form. He felt the magic in his body tingle and spark, moving through his veins as he did during meditation. Then fire started to materialise millimetres from his fingertips. He could feel the warmth of the fire as the fiery ribbons entwined slowly, forming a ball which grew larger and faster. And when he thought his power would get out of control, Harry took a deep breath and retracted some of it.

"Excellent," Snape remarked with a slight hiss. "Now throw it."

Harry pushed the ball away and he felt his magic snap, as though letting go a rubber band. The vibration filtered through his body.

Snape swirled his wand and water enveloped it. It then rained down blunt glass and water.

But Harry was laughing as he pulled his wet hair from his eyes. He did it!

(******)

Training continued, and Harry was actually looking forward to his sessions. Over the next few days, Harry felt a little more confident in his power.

He learnt that he could mimic other abilities that of a Parselmouth or a Metamorphmagus. He could already talk to snakes, but he practiced turning his hair a different colour. He also practiced normal defence spells, and it was working as perfectly as though he was using a wand.

"Have you finished reading the book?" Snape questioned one evening.

"I'm almost through it," Harry answered truthfully.

"Your Mirror would have finished in a day." Snape curled his lip. "You are the total opposite of him in more ways than one."

"I should hope so." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I do have some questions about what I've learnt so far that the book doesn't really explain."

Snape lightly dusted off his wand and urged Harry to ask away with a nod of his head.

"Okay… what I don't understand is that if a Mage is so powerful and superior to a wizard, than why can't we break Dark protective charms and magic that suppresses a Mage's power?"

Snape began walking in a circle. "Do you know what the symbol displayed on the front of the book is?"

"Ouroboros: No beginning and no end."

"Correct. In Muggle culture, it means destruction, death, life and unity." He stopped walking and gazed at Harry with interest. "For the Mágos, the circle—or to be precise—the sphere means so much more. It disperses power perfectly; it has no weak point and no strong point—it is perfect harmony."

Harry watched Snape create a smoky sphere between them. Then a tiny house appeared within it. It slowly morphed into a replica of Hogwarts, before turning into a small figure of a witch.

"How does the sphere work in magic?"

"Um…"

"Did you not learn anything in school, Potter? Or were you too busy signing autographs? Look at the sphere and use your brain!"

Harry scowled in annoyance and stared at the little smoky sphere thinking about Charms and Defence classes. "You protect something by encasing it in a sphere or circle of magic."

"Like?"

"The Fidelius or the Shield Charm."

"Yes, a couple of examples, but there are many more… The sphere is one of the most important elements of magic to a Mage. However," Snape waved his wand and the sphere vanished, "it is also a Mage's greatness weakness."

Harry soon realised he was holding his breath. "A Mage's power is suppressed when they are surrounded by said magic."

"Correct. To suppress a Mage you need to use the Dark Arts and the curses used are said to warp a soul, thus not many wizards use them. However, goblins share a power similar to a Mage's and are able to control them somewhat. But like I explained, it is seriously Dark. To suppress a wizard's power to that extent goes against the natural laws of magic."

"But what if a Mage is outside of these protections and want to get in to… battle or something, like let's say, inside Hogwarts? You said Hogwarts is surrounded by my Mirror's magic."

"Outside you can overcome it and remove the spells, yet within it, it is detrimental to your power, unless you were the person that had created the magic or there is a flaw in the magic that you could ultimately manipulate."

"Wow, okay."

"The stronger and more experienced you become, the more noticeable it will be for you to see the magic and any imperfections within it. That said there is an advanced phase of your magic where you can overcome this spherical obstacle… if it doesn't end up killing you."

"What about the Potter's basement? Would that have restricted my Mirror's power?"

"For a while… long enough that by the time your Mirror would've figured out a way to remove them, he would've been locked away again."

Then Snape raised his wand, pointing it at Harry.

"Ready yourself. I will be doing the spells non-verbally today."

Harry stiffened, preparing himself to be a target for Snape's silent spell. Green dazzling light erupted from his wand.

His heart almost stopped as the spell hurtled his way. "PROTEGO!" he thought. He was not going to die today, but still with a twinge of insecurity of his power, Harry ducked all the same. No golden shield materialised.

That was until the green spell hit an invisible barrier and he saw a strange, silvery blue shield. A deep metallic sound rippled across it. It made his whole body shiver and his hair stand on end. The shield sparked as the green light danced across it. The spell was sucking the energy out of him, and his heart beat slowed, but he knew instinctively, if he let go of the shield now, he'd be a dead man.

When the last of the dancing green light disappeared, absorbed within the shield, Harry let it vanish. He inhaled deeply. Tired and now getting angry, he stood up.

"YOU COULD'VE KILLED ME!"

"I didn't." Snape pocketed his wand. "We are done for the day."

Harry was furious. "WAIT."

The wizard turned back, clasping his cloak on. "I told you in the beginning, I'd be using the Dark Arts—"

"Yes I know, but not that spell."

"Potter, think about what just happened. Do you realise what you've done?"

Harry breathed deeply and bit his lip. "I mastered a spell powerful enough to withstand the Killing Curse."

"Exactly."

Harry saw a flicker of fear in the Death Eater's eyes before it vanished. He opened and closed his mouth. He felt drained from protecting himself and suddenly so very hungry, yet he was astonished at what he had just achieved. If he could protect his friends with it, then it would be the best thing about being a Mage.

Never in a million years had he thought he'd actually be taught something from Snape and actually excel at it. Especially after everything the Death Eater had done in his own world. He still despised him, but Harry thought Mirror Snape was easier to get along with.

To his horror, Snape stared into his eyes and in a moment of lax mental concentration, he felt a presence in his mind that wasn't his Mirror visiting. He looked away quickly, cheeks reddening.

"You still believe I would kill Dumbledore?"

"You're a Death Eater."

"So is your Mirror." Snape towered over him. "Tell me, was your Dumbledore injured before my Mirror killed him?"

Harry looked into Snape's black eyes. "He was exhausted as we researched a cave for something magical to use against Voldemort. Dumbledore drank—"

"A green potion?"

"Yeah—how do you know?" Harry questioned.

"Draco brought Potter to me after drinking a similar potion. He was weak for days, constantly reliving nightmares. Did he have any any other injuries?"

"Dumbledore's wand arm was cursed, useless and all black—"

"Cursed? How so?"

Harry hesitated. "He put a ring on—"

"Did this ring have a black stone?"

"Yes," he replied.

Snape nodded pensively. "Funny, that despite being in different worlds, you have all searched for the same objects."

"We're all trying to destroy Voldemort," Harry explained.

"I helped Albus destroy the curse on that ring. It would've killed anyone who put it on, although if they are seen quickly by medics, they could at least slow down the progression of the curse and give them months to several years of life. It all depends on timing."

"So that curse would've killed him eventually?"

"Yes. The thing is, Albus told me that if anything was to befall on him—cursed, captured or dying and I was present, he'd want me to end it quickly."

Harry's mind was reeling. "So… so you think my Dumbledore and Snape had that sort of agreement too?" Snape nodded. "But… but then, where were you when Dumbledore lost?"

Snape curled his lips. "I had no idea he had been taken in the first place. I found him though."

"What happened to him?"

"The Dark Lord trapped him," Snape explained. "I found him near the Forbidden Forest severely wounded. He had Apparated himself at risk. He lost a lot of his memory, and it took awhile for it to come back."

Harry rubbed his chin. "What happened to Harry after?"

"He disappeared for two months and arrived two weeks late for school. Albus said he was overseas on a mission. He showed me several letters Potter had written to him."

"Sir…" Harry scratched his head, thinking of a particular memory. "I remember seeing Harry sitting on a cliff and Malfoy telling him he'd need to go back to Hogwarts for sixth year."

"Cliff?" Snape narrowed his eyes. "Where was this cliff?"

"Over a rocky shore, and he looked terrible. Actually, even Malfoy once mentioned a cliff when he was talking about Miles."

"Was there anyone else in the memory?" A crease appeared on Snape's pale brow.

"Bellatrix and a few other Death Eaters."

"A few others?" Snape looked as though he had been punched in the stomach. "This is... this is highly significant." He began pacing back and forth. "Potter, the next time you shift through your Mirror's memories, rifle through any with Bellatrix and Greyback in them."

"Why?"

"The day a Conditioned is freed, they are given a choice: continue the Dark Lord's work, or jump."

"Do you think he was conditioned—?"

"It is highly suggestive... however, Bellatrix and Potter have a long, complicated history and she likes to play with her subjects. It would however explain the two month absence."

"Can you talk to Malfoy?" Harry questioned

Snape shook his head, stiffly. "The boy won't reveal anything. I suggest you resume the connection now."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the shed door.

"I also have another request."

Harry looked up.

"While you're in his mind, I want you to see memories of his mother and anything to do with Jessica Potter."

Surprisingly, Harry dozed off quickly. He stepped through a mirror and waited for the memories to start.

"Muggles. Slime of the earth," Bellatrix purred, eyeing the Mirror with quiet contemplation and amusement.

Bellatrix circled the Muggle woman lying on the ground, weeping.

"Please don't kill me," the Muggle cried.

The room they were in was circular and windowless as he watched his Mirror stare at the woman blankly. His glasses were reflecting the flames in the sconces.

Mirror Harry's wand trembled, his jaw tensed. It reeked of weakness and Bellatrix would've enjoyed the display.

"Do it," she hissed.

"Please. Let me live."

Mirror Harry raised his wand, pointing it at the Muggle's chest. But no spell was uttered and the woman didn't die.

"AVADA KEDAVRA," Bellatrix screeched. The room was filled with blinding green light.

The Muggle woman was dead and her lifeless eyes stared at the Mirror.

Bellatrix gripped the boy's throat without warning. "You are an absolute failure, Potter! I don't know why you still live if you cannot even kill—"

"I can use the other Unforgiveables," he spat into her face.

"Crucio."

He fell to his knees, screaming.

She lifted the curse, shaking her head. "No… no, spells aren't enough anymore," she realised. She shook a finger at him as the Mirror cringed from the curse. "I think in your case you need something else to help you,"

"What's that supposed to mean, Mentor?" he snapped, staggering upright.

"The next time you fail," she grinned, "you'll be spending some quality time with Greyback."

Fear was in the boy's eyes now, making Bellatrix chuckle. "You can't do that Bella, I'm a Death Eater!"

"It'll stop him pestering me for you," she replied excitedly. "I've protected you, but I cannot overlook that this will be the seventh time you've failed to kill in these training sessions."

"The Dark—"

"The Dark Lord has sanctioned it as long as the werewolf doesn't bite you." She licked her bottom lip, relishing the Mirror's reactions. "Bet you didn't expect that, eh?"

The boy stepped backwards, far away from his Mentor. Harry could feel his fear.

"I've watched you in the field, Potter. There is reluctance in you and it seems to me you'll do everything to avoid taking a life." She walked towards him, twirling her wand between her fingers. "I only train the best, but perhaps this time, the Dark Lord's been mistaken."

"I'll do better then," he said quietly.

"You've been warned." Her eyes flashed dangerously.

A mirror appeared on the stone wall and Harry found himself in another memory of another training day with a Muggle girl laying on the ground, dead.

"I did warn you, Potter," Bellatrix said with sadistic delight.

"You set me up to fail! I can't use magic in here." The boy turned around slowly, stoically. This time the reflection on his glasses masked the look of dread that Harry felt.

Oh my God! Harry thought, his knees almost buckling.

Greyback was right behind Bellatrix, his guttural laugh sounding more like a growl.

"Don't be soft on him, Fenrir."

He laughed. "Pity I can't rip off a chunk of his neck though."

As Greyback and Bellatrix mocked the boy, another mirror appeared. Harry bolted through it, not wanting to see anymore of the memory.

This time they were back in the circular room, and a man lay on the floor, bleeding.

Bellatrix circled the Mirror. He was taller, his hair longer, his eyes dark and glassless, and he wore his Death Eater robes with pride. Harry knew she expected him to kill the Muggle now.

And without a tremble, he raised the wand and a jet of green light blasted the man across the room.

"Good work." Bellatrix clapped slowly. "Your killing's getting better. I do not ever want you to use mercy to kill again! That is for the weak. Death Eaters do not think that way, and your last kill a month ago disappointed me greatly."

The Mirror frowned as the silence of death surrounded them. He stonily looked at the dead man on the ground. "I will make you proud of me."

Bellatrix squeezed his shoulder gently. "You learnt a lot during the summer, didn't you? But there is so much more you can do."

The Mirror nodded.

"Now, I think, the true test will be killing without a wand. It'll strengthen your Mage magic."

"So that's my next proje—?"

His Mentor grabbed his throat, but this time, instead of cursing him, she kissed him, and he twirled around, pinning her against the wall. But then she kneed him between his legs and he doubled over in pain.

Bellatrix pulled his hair back, locking eyes with his. "What did you do to me?" she hissed. "You found out about the cup, didn't you? I want to know how you did it."

"Charm—you've only just realised?" He croaked, wincing in pain. "Could you imagine how our Master will react if he ever finds out that you were the reason why it was moved in the first place?" he sneered through the pain.

"He'll never find out." Then she forced her tongue into his mouth, but he was the one who pushed her onto the ground. "My secret might be yours, but you're mine, Potter. Mine!"

"Then why am I the one pinning you to the ground?"

She struggled against his hold for a moment, before she flicked her head back and laughed.

Nauseated, Harry found a mirror by his feet. He closed his eyes, not wanting to hear Bellatrix and his Mirror together and jumped into it.

There was a lot of screaming and a lot of commotion and activity in the room. Papers and furniture flew in every direction and two children huddled in the corner crying. Curses flung everywhere and Death Eater masks shone in the light.

Peter Pettigrew was writhing on the floor under the Cruciatus Curse. His family was screaming.

"MUMMY," Ashley yelled, tears streaming. Tony was trying to bite the large Death Eater clutching them.

"DON'T HURT THEM," a witch yelled. Harry guessed this was Orla, their mother.

Her dark hair was tangled around her face, as Bellatrix grabbed her before she could get to her children. Smiling, Bellatrix slit her throat.

The Death Eater holding the children had had enough tact to turn the children away from the murder.

"NO!" Peter roared.

"Here you go, MacNair," Bella said above Peter's cries. She held up Orla's head by her hair. "I know you like the pretty ones dead."

"MUUUUUUUMMMMM!" The children tried to scramble away to her. But their mother was gone. She was silent and unmoving when Bellatrix dropped her.

"LEAVE MY CHILDREN ALONE!" Peter lunged forward through the pain of the curse, scratching Bellatrix's neck.

But Bella just laughed, slashing her wand. Peter was hit squarely in the chest. And he fell to his knees with a wild look on his face.

"Kill me—not my children," Peter whimpered, stemming the flow of blood from his chest. "Kill me, please. I can't live without my family."

"I'll think about it," Bella said, raising her wand, "but you'll be coming back with us alive to be punished for defecting, and for the death of my husband."

"Wait." A Death Eater in the corner, near the children slowly approached them. He pulled down his hood and took off his mask. Mirror Harry knelt by Peter's side.

Peter's watery blue eyes were as wide as saucers. "Kill me, Harry, please." he whispered. "He'll torture me—He's desperate—Protect my children… please. You know he'll use them against me. I can't watch them suffer."

Harry could feel conflicting emotions in the boy, but then compassion pushed them all away.

"I'll do my best to protect your children," he whispered. He touched Peter's chest with the tip of his wand and muttered, "Avada Kedavra." Peter fell back dead, his hand still tightly wrapped around the boy's hand.

"YOU IDIOT!" Bellatrix screamed, she slashed her wand at the Mirror, and he writhed on the floor in pain. "WHAT HAVE I TAUGHT YOU?"

The children whimpered in the corner, Harry could tell they had lost their struggle. Mirror Harry looked up, clammy from his torture. He grabbed Bella by the neck and hissed into her ear. "You taught me to value mercy!"

"Is that so?" She licked her lips in anticipation. "Well, for your disobedience I will condition the children, not you."

Heart pounding, he rushed into another memory.

"ALL STUDENTS MUST REMAIN IN THEIR DORMITORIES UNTIL WE ARE READY TO EVACUATE," McGonagall's voice boomed throughout every corner of the castle.

Harry saw his Mirror running down a corridor. He skidded to a halt in front of a chamber. He found he could not open the door, so he broke into the room. Harry followed and within the room there was a long scroll on a simple desk. The scroll was so long it was trailing onto a heap on the floor. The shelves were lined with ancient scrolls centuries old. A lime green quill quivered over an empty space on the parchment.

Harry watched as the boy shifted through it, until he found something he searched for. He touched it with his finger, muttering a long incantation. He stood up and waved his hand across the entire length of parchment, and a soft golden glow enveloped it.

Another mirror appeared, and this time Charlie, Michael and Mirror Harry were at Kings Cross Station. The brothers were standing a little further away from him while students were giving them a wide berth.

"I'll see you during the summer," Blaise Zabini whispered to the Mirror.

In the distance, Malfoy was seen with his mother. They briefly nodded at the Mirror's way. And some others: eight Ravenclaws, seven Hufflepuffs, ten Slytherins and nine Gryffindors all acknowledged him. They must have been the Conditioned stationed at Hogwarts. It sent shivers down Harry's spine.

Through the haze of train smoke, parents were hugging their children, some in tears. The usual fare leaving the Hogwarts Express meant it there was always a rowdy atmosphere, with a lot of happy parents and children. But not now, Harry noticed. It was very sombre, like it had been when Dumbledore had died in his world.

Ron and Hermione stared at the Mirror before going home with the rest of the Weasleys. They didn't even say a word to him.

"Boys," Lily said, adjusting her handbag with one hand, while holding tightly onto Jessica with her other. The little girl looked up ecstatically at her brothers, happy to see them so soon again. Her bright green eyes sparkled with happiness and innocence. She was clearly unaware of the devastation that had taken place at Hogwarts.

"Harry," she squealed in delight. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I've missed you so much and—and so did Milly. Where were you during the summer?" She sucked in a breath through her large front teeth.

It took a moment for the Mirror to hug her back. His face was devoid of emotion. Their mother stared back, worried.

"Is everything all right?" She hugged her sons. They all nodded. Then she was about to hug her eldest, when he decided to back away and fix something on his trunk.

"Let's go then," she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He hissed something which made Lily lean down.

"You Apparate with everyone," he said softly.

Harry realised the wand poking from his Mirror's jumper sleeve, and a soft, blue spell hit Lily's face.

She sneezed and blinked back, confused. Fear and guilt washed over her face as she stood back up. It lasted a second, before she regained composure. "Boys, Jessica with me."

"Can I go with Harry, please Mummy?" Jessica jumped up and down.

Mirror Harry took her small hand, but steered her towards their mother. The little girl was disappointed. "Go with Mum. I'll be home soon."

"Harry, where are you going? I think after what's happened you need to come home with us, right now."

"I need some time alone," he mumbled.

"No, you need to be around your family and... and we have to talk," Lily ordered, ignoring the frightened looks from passers-by. "We are all worried about you."

Between all the sombre and fearful expressions, Jessica was the only one beaming.

When the memory ended, Harry walked through the mirror on the station wall and jolted when he saw his Mirror standing in front of Voldemort.

He looked terrible, drifting off to sleep in front of an oak desk. Voldemort walked around him, eyes roving up and down.

"You poor boy, you're tired aren't you?"

The Mirror's eyes opened. "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort closed their distance, red eyes on green. His long fingers caressed the boy's cheek then down further over the hollow of his collarbone, before pulling together his collared shirt and doing up the buttons for the boy. It made Harry shiver again.

"When you return to sixth year, I have a mission for you. I want you to succeed."

"I'm sure I will, my Lord." Mirror Harry bowed slightly.

Harry knew he was assessing the situation.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"I want you to bring me something," he stared, "I think you know what I'm talking about. Your brother has it. It is an interesting object."

"I will try my Lord."

"Try? No, Harry, you will bring it to me. If you don't, I will make you kill your family."

The Mirror's eyes widened. "No, please—"

"I feel your relationship is strongest with your little sister… you'd do anything to protect her," he said coldly. "I am right, aren't I?" Voldemort's fingers gripped the boy's jaw.

There was terror in the Mirror's eyes.

"If you fail I will give her to the Notorious Thirteen, and I will make sure you watch every moment of her conditioning."

"No, please! She won't survive it!"

"It was your fault, Harry. All of it." Voldemort pushed the Mirror to the ground and pointed the Elder Wand into his face. "You suggested that I make more Horcruxes, and now my power is weak."

"I didn't know!"

"But, I forgive you. I have no choice now, do I? You are vital for my war efforts."

Mirror Harry grimaced.

"Harry, school started a week ago. I want you back there in days, but until then, I am taking over your training. Bellatrix has not done it properly and I need you to be wholly mine."

The memory ended in darkness, but a mirror shone behind.

What the hell?

Harry returned into the shed and found his Mirror sitting in the old chair, eyes twinkling. "Explain these memories?"

The Mirror laughed. "The beginning of my decent into hell."

Harry frowned. "I'm sorry about Greyback."

"I tried to fight them. I tried, but they surrounded the room with magic against my power, a goblin even died because of it. No doubt Bella thought Greyback would accidentally kill me too." He scowled. "They won."

"When did it happen?"

"Sometime before Christmas in fifth year."

"Which would explain that fight with Hermione..."

He nodded. "I couldn't even face my family, so I focused on the teddy bear Horcrux and got myself in trouble with vampires. I couldn't even be near Ron and Hermione."

"She knew something was wrong."

"I didn't want them to be part of my screwed up life."

"They would've helped you."

He shook his head. "God, I just can't forget Bellatrix laughing... but enough… there's no point reliving nightmares. That's for the weak."

There would have been so much pain, so much horror, and Harry knew what it felt like, but his Mirror hid it well within the barrier he had built up.

"Are you ready, Harry? I'm going to tell you tale of woe and treachery about my sister, my parents and Snape. This will knock your socks right off."

(******)

When Potter opened his eyes after sleeping for a good half hour, Severus noticed the dark look in his eye.

"What have you found out?"

"He killed Peter out of mercy and I saw bits and pieces of Bella training him… Greyback… he raped Harry when he failed to kill after many training lessons."

"Bellatrix had a habit of degrading her trainees after serious failures. Putting Potter through that would've scarred him more than any Dark spells would've done, and it would've exerted her power over him. "What other memories were there?"

"One strange one with Voldemort a week after sixth year started... Harry did something to his power. He wasn't happy with him. He needed him to complete two missions."

"The Chamber of secrets was one no doubt." He did open it after all!

"But I want you to tell me everything about your relationship with Lily." There was a hint of bitterness and betrayal in his voice.

"Your Mirror knew something, didn't he?"

Potter nodded, getting up. He walked around with his cane. "He knew you had an affair with Lily ever since he was a young boy."

Severus mentally snorted, but pretended he was shocked by the information. The boy's belief of an affair, in turn, had made his mother believe that she had an affair when he had hoodwinked her.

"He wanted to play mind games with you and Voldemort, but at the same time he did it to protect his sister."

"He Confunded his mother. He manipulated her memories and added lies. And he charmed the Hogwarts scroll to change her father's name to mine."

"He wanted to punish you."

Severus had to laugh. "I can understand why he did it though… His sister is in danger and the Dark Lord doesn't harm the children of his loyal servants. He had us fooled." He pondered. "I'm surprised you're not trying to kill me."

Potter raised an eyebrow. "I've tried doing that before. Quite frankly, I'm just not that surprised with anything anymore. I'm angry, but I never knew about your friendship with my mother. Now I understand why you hate me so much."

"Finally you understand," Severus added.

Potter narrowed his eyes. "You still had an affair with her. And that bit I don't get." He pointed his finger into his face. "You took advantage of her when she needed your friendship. You've always loved her, but she couldn't love you back, ever, in that way."

"Your father always got what he wanted," Severus hissed. He could've told Potter the truth, but there was no use now, not when the girl's safety was at stake.

The boy shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I know my dad put you through hell, but he never took her away from you. She loved you only like a brother until you started hanging around Voldemort's followers. So in fact, it's no one's fault but yours for driving her away."

He saw the boy falter. The look on Severus's face must have shown his outrage and hurt.

"Are you going to help Lily?"

"Soon." He wanted to curse the boy so much. "Meet me here tomorrow, same time, and practice your non-verbals."

(******)

Dumbledore had another opportunity to play his trick after a visit to the hospital marquee. Roger Tatum and his group had been unsuccessful getting his grandson back, almost getting killed in the raid, before returning back injured and empty-handed. Dumbledore left them with the Healers when he saw Xanthe Payton sitting on the porch.

"Good Evening, Xanthe," he smiled.

She was an Order member who had spent three years in The Black Square for defying Umbridge's request to take up a teaching position, and spy on Hogwarts students. Xanthe looked healthier and more spirited, though her big brown eyes did not hide her bitter and broken soul.

"It's rather late for you to still be here," she replied. She clasped her hands behind her back and watched the twinkling lights coming out of the tents.

"War never sleeps."

"That's true," she agreed.

"I've heard that you don't sleep well."

"I think many of us have forgotten what sleep feels like. The Atoners made sure of that."

"There are potions—"

"I've tried all of them," she said, running her fingers through her recently cut brown hair. "But none work on me. Sad isn't it?"

Dumbledore then pulled out a letter and let the special note slip to the ground. "Your mother sent me this letter. You haven't contacted her yet…"

Xanthe took a step forward, covering the fallen note with the hem of her long robes. She then grasped the letter tightly, but Dumbledore didn't let go.

"And I still wish you a very goodnight."

She gave him a tiny smile as she pocketed the letter, before biding him goodnight.

Dumbledore hesitated before leaving, he turned around and the witch was staring back. He walked out into the misty cold air, giving her a few extra moments. As he Disapparated, he knew for sure. Xanthe, what have you done.

That little note said: James, meet us in Ronald's bedroom, midnight Saturday. Lily will arrive with the children.

(******)

Bellatrix. Bellatrix. Bellatrix. Harry repeated. Just the thought of Snape and his mother together made him sick and he needed a distraction.

He stepped through the usual mirror in his bedroom, and found himself near the Hogwarts lake.

Mirror Harry was sitting alone. The mist hovered low over the embankment, hiding the lake. He stared and stared, his eyes red-rimmed and slightly glazed over in tiredness. He looked gaunt and dishevelled.

"Harry," Hermione called, behind them. Ron was running down the hill in her wake.

"What do you want?"

"I, um, I received this letter minutes ago, and I want you to look at it. What do you think?" Hermione said quickly, as Ron halted to a stop, puffing, red as a beetroot.

"Merlin, Hermione, this isn't Harry—our friend anymore! He's with Malfoy—"

"SHUT UP, RON. This is serious, we need his input." Hermione unfolded the parchment with shaking fingers and shoved it into Mirror Harry's hand.

"You have been especially selected to join our Muggle-born Protection Alliance on the night of the Halloween feast. The first meeting is in Dungeons Room three, five sharp, before the feast." Mirror Harry flicked up an unimpressed eyebrow. "You came running out to tell me this?" He threw the paper into Hermione's lap.

"Dumbledore told us at the start of year—he warned us of suspicious messages and meetings. This doesn't sound right."

"You're a Mudblood, figure it out—"

"HOW DARE YOU," Ron yelled, whipping out his wand.

"NO, DON'T!" Hermione cried.

The Mirror stood up, and even though he was inches shorter than Ron, he looked very menacing. "What are you going to, huh?" He shoved Ron back.

"STOP THIS," Hermione yelled.

"HE CALLED YOU THAT NAME AGAIN!"

A leer was playing on Mirror Harry's lips, and if Harry had blinked he would not have seen the red glint in his Mirror's eye. "It's almost two to five now. I suggest you walk straight back into Hogwarts and tell Dumbledore about it. Otherwise, you'll die screaming like a dirty, worthless Mudblood you are."

"Oh Harry, you mean it this time, don't you?" Hermione whispered. Her words reeked of pure disappointment and hurt. There were tears in her eyes before she rushed off.

"Stay away from us. If you hurt her, I'll kill you!" Ron threatened. He ran off, catching up with her.

Mirror Harry turned his attention back to the lake with a smile on his lips, though his expression soon grew troubled. There was a deep line between his brows.

Then he sprung up, deliberating, as he watched Ron and Hermione rush up the hill. He moved a few steps, and then moved backwards. He bit into his fist and screamed, before Apparating on the spot.

Strange, Harry thought. Something's not right with him. He looked around for a mirror, and thought none had materialised, until he realised that the entire lake was the mirror. He dove into it.

In a room filled with trinkets and paintings Voldemort stood behind the Mirror pointing the Elder Wand into his back. In front of the boy was an old wizard, wheezing against the desk.

"Kill him, Harry," Voldemort said.

Harry watched the Mirror. He did not look well and he wore no glasses. He was so emaciated under his fine black robes.

"You are afraid of giving in to your Dark Phase. But I know you want to kill, I can feel it. You have resisted for far too long. Nurture the hate," Voldemort remarked softly. "Is it exhausting, Harry? I wouldn't know. I do not have such trivial feelings gnawing at my soul."

The Mirror pursed his lips and closed his eyes, nodding.

"It is time to give in and be yourself. Give in and you will be great."

The boy inhaled a deep smooth breath as though in the middle of meditation.

"Kill him. Do not resist the hate within you," Voldemort leaned in, whispering. "I can smell the hate... feel it too. We hate the same things Harry, let it blossom and take over."

Harry held his breath as he watched the Mirror's lost, haunted eyes.

Then Voldemort smirked, his lips close to the boy's ear. "Kill…"

The Mirror raised his wand. The old wizard bowed his head, awaiting death. "Avada Kedavra," he said, confidently. A jet of green light hit the wizard's chest, instantly killing him.

Harry was momentarily stunned and he caught the lipless smirk on Voldemort's face. "Congratulations Harry, I believe this is the first time you've enjoyed killing. You are ready to go back."

A mirror appeared on a painting and Harry clambered through.

It was pitch-black, and Harry felt unsteady on his feet. He heard ragged breathing to his right, and the unmistakable sound of heavy chains grazing the stone ground.

Whatever this memory was about, he instinctively knew it was going to get worse.

A heavy door screeched open, and warm light filtered through. Finally, he saw his Mirror on the ground. He tried to shield the light with his chained hands and there was a heavy iron collar around his neck.

This wasn't The Black Square Harry thought, and his attention turned to the opening door and who was about to enter. The light masked their figures, yet Harry could see that they wore Death Eater masks.

There was a flight of thin rickety steps as thirteen Death Eaters descended. Their leader ripped off their mask, revealing the heavy lidded eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. Then the door was shut and the room was again in darkness.

Harry couldn't see. He could only hear footsteps and his Mirror's breaths. Then Bella ignited her wand in a cold blue light, highlighting her features. It made her look demonic.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Mirror Harry pulled himself up. He looked so exhausted and pale.

She chuckled. "No, I'm afraid not, Potter." Her wand blazed between them. "I'm deadly serious."

Mirror Harry eyed the Death Eaters creating a circle around him. "He's left me in your charge? He's not going to kill me?"

Bellatrix had a most evil smile on her lips, her grey eyes shining in the wand light. "Our Master rewards his most faithful, and oh my, Potter, what fun we will have."

Mirror Harry tested his chains, making the Death Eaters laugh at his futile efforts to escape. Harry heard the Carrows laughter among them, and Greyback's growl.

There was a moment of fear in the boy's eyes before he yelled in fury, "I'M ONE OF YOU!"

"No," she spat, "you are a traitor." Bellatrix's eyes widened and she whipped the Mirror's head back with a fist full of his hair, her wand on his neck. "You will be punished more severely for it. I don't understand why he doesn't kill you… but," she hissed, her lips inches from his own mouth, "you will be used and broken for the Dark Lord. You will be conditioned."

"FUCK YOU!" Mirror Harry screamed, smacking the witch's face with his chains.

Bellatrix screeched and stumbled, her wand cluttering to the floor. She fell in the corner and when she looked up, there was blood on her fingers from her cut cheek. She spat out blood and a broken tooth.

The Death Eaters pointed their wands at Harry, but Bellatrix held up a hand as though she did not want them to retaliate just yet. She looked manic, excited, and delirious.

"You, my darling," she purred dangerously, staring at the blood on her fingertips, "will be begging for death by the time we've finished with you."

There was silence that curdled Harry's blood, and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

Then the Mirror smirked. "I'm going to kill you. Mark my words, Mentor. I'll hunt all of you down for what you are about to do to me. All of you!"

Bellatrix straightened to full height, staring down at the Mirror, taking heed to his threat. "You will not. By the time you face the Cliff of Mercy, you'll be nothing but a pretty whore wanting to obey me and the Dark Lord."

The Mirror tested his chains again and let out a yell of frustration at his situation. But Harry felt the ever growing fear the boy had. And it was brutal, it was cruel, and he no doubt believed that Bellatrix would hold true to her word. She was a sadistic monster who enjoyed making her prey suffer.

She held her wand to her face, the light emblazoning the hollows of her cheeks. With her wild look she ever so softly commanded, "begin."

The wand light was extinguished.

But Harry didn't see or hear what occurred next, because he felt something smash him in the stomach. He was hurled through the mirror, smacking the wall next to his bed. "What…?" he said, winded. He winced in pain.

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO SEE THAT!" the Mirror screamed. He was pointing a shaking finger into Harry's face. He was livid and the pain of that memory was stretched along every inch of his face.

Harry pressed himself into the corner of the room as the Mirror threw things onto the ground, broke the window and pulled shelves down. A dark aura of power radiated from his body, pulsing.

Not daring to speak or even move, Harry just closed his eyes and hoped his Mirror wouldn't hurt him.

Finally there was a scream so full of rage and hurt that Harry shivered.

He waited until finally there was silence. Harry opened an eye, hoping to see an empty room, but his Mirror had sat down, face against the wall, trying to calm his breathing. The black ribbons of his power around his body slowly vanished.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked gently.

"WHAT DO YOU FUCKING THINK?"

"You were conditioned," Harry continued. "Why? When?" Deciding to be brave about it, he crawled over to his Mirror. "What did you do? And what happened to the locket and the cup?"

"Everything happened." The Mirror covered his face with his robes, determined to not let Harry see him. "I made a run for it. I couldn't care about the Horcruxes anymore. I hated it here. I was so sick of being a Death Eater!"

"What happened? After Dumbledore lost his fight?"

"I disappeared for awhile in Albania. Draco knew where I was and sometimes brought me supplies. But I told Dumbledore I was on a mission so he wouldn't be concerned. Then Bella followed Draco one day and I was caught…" He pulled down his robes, his green eyes, red and wet. "You and I are so connected I can't stop you anymore."

"I'm so sorry this happened—"

"The thirteen! The Notorious Thirteen conditioned me," The Mirror said angrily. "I'm going to kill every one of them, Harry. I promised myself I would. I promised it to all the other kids out there." He nodded. "I will kill them all, except one."

"Because your dad killed Greyback?"

"No, one of them is in the Order now."

"What?" Harry gasped.

He suddenly laughed. "You know, every Conditioned has a particular skill-set learnt from their Mentor. Do you know what mine was?"

"Kill?" Harry guessed, thinking about the Pettigrew children.

The Mirror snorted, wiping the last remnants of tears, a stoic expression full of bitterness taking over on his ashen face. "To be Voldemort's loyal lap dog. To break me…" he said oily, rubbing his chest as though it was aching. "It was his greatest desire."

Harry didn't know what to say to that.

"I wish-I wish Voldemort killed me as a baby…"

Harry turned away; the pain of those words hit him much worse than the punch to his stomach. "Don't… he went for me and I survived. You don't understand how lucky you are to have your parents alive."

"I wish Charlie never died." The Mirror silently clutched his chest and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Why did you kill him?"

"I failed." The Mirror gasped. "Take my hand, Harry," he urged, clutching his chest. He looked as though he was in agony.

"Why?"

"JUST DO IT!"

Harry extended a hand, knowing that something uncomfortable was going to happen. The Mirror touched him. He gasped, as images of his mother dying in a bright green flash filled his mind, sacrificing her life to save his. "NOT HARRY, PLEASE NOT HARRY!"

The Mirror kept repeating the memory and Harry cried out, not wanting to experience it anymore. "Don't do this."

But the Mirror didn't let go and Harry found himself thinking that perhaps this is his Mirror finding the way out of his prison. He needed to experience that love again and to love once more.

"You still miss him, don't you?" Harry asked Ron.

"Everyday…"

Harry felt that power arising from his body. Strangely now, he didn't want his Mirror to stop, because maybe, this is the only way for him to pass the Dark phase.

As the remnant power of his mother's sacrifice blossomed again and hit a crescendo, that's when it all went wrong.

"ARGHHHHHH!" The Mirror tried to pull away, but Harry gripped his hand tighter. "STOP—LET GO."

He tried to gouge out Harry's eyes, but Harry was determined to make him see the pain, the horror, the love and to feel it. He needed his Mirror to feel the intense power of what love can do: the guilt, consciousness, sacrifice, the will and the grief.

Only when his Mirror didn't resist anymore, Harry finally let go.

His Mirror had doubled over in pain and whimpered, trying to crawl his way back into his own mind.

Harry backed away, frightened. He didn't expect this to happen. He only wanted to invoke the remains of his mother's sacrifice, to share it, but his power wanted to do so much more. It felted as though he wanted to break his Mirror and remould him.

The Mirror staggered upright, clutching his chest, pain on his tear-streaked face. He was very unsteady and on the verge of collapse.

"I didn't mean to hurt—it was my mother's love—"

"It's not hers. It's your own," he croaked, falling to his knees. "Thank you, I… I needed that." He sounded exhausted, but then he laughed. "I haven't felt this free for a long time! God, I can think so much clearer too."

"That's, er, good."

"I can't believe I tried to escape England with the Pettigrew kids and leave you to finish my war. What the fuck was I thinking?"

"My thoughts exactly." Harry frowned.

(******)

It was ten to midnight and Dumbledore was disillusioned against an old closet. He had to admit the Gaul in the attic was rather endearing when it snored.

Kingsley, Arthur, Molly and Lily hid behind the other furniture, waiting to surprise the spy.

The door creaked open and Xanthe tiptoed in, her wand was out. They waited a few moments for her to hide in the darkness. She positioned herself near the window and charmed herself.

"I think it's time to reveal to us who you truly are," Dumbledore said, throwing the entire room into light.

The witch's eyes were wide as saucers. "Show yourselves."

They removed their camouflage charms and walked out of their hiding spots, wands all aimed at the spy.

"Why?" Lily asked, stepping bravely forward. "Why did you turn your back on us? We were helping you."

Xanthe laughed.

"We would like to know," Dumbledore said softly.

"I fell in love," she gulped, "with Barty Crouch Jr."

Lily shook her head. "Was he worth it for all this?"

Xanthe inhaled deeply. "Every moment of it, yes. I'd do this all again."

But Molly was horrified. "Why did you fall in love with a horrible Death Eater like Barty Crouch Jr?"

"Because even horrible Death Eaters love," Xanthe answered. "And Barty was the only one who made Azkaban bearable. I'd do anything for him."

"Please put your wand down," Dumbledore said. "We won't harm you."

The witch sat against the windowsill.

"Xanthe, he used you. He knew you'd be under our protection and you fell for it," Lily said.

"He didn't use me. Don't you understand? We all thought we would die in The Black Square. We corresponded every chance we got. And when we were freed, he helped me kill the Atoners. Yes, he asked me to do this, but only because it is the only way we could truly be together."

"Turn your back on him. You can still help us," Kingsley urged.

"Barty told me to never get caught."

Kingsley threw a disarming spell at the witch, but she was prepared, lazily flicking it away.

"Avada Kedavra," she said, the green spell shot its way towards Dumbledore, forcing him to jump out of the way and crash into the bed.

In the flash of the blinding green light, the others tried to stun or curse her, but Xanthe was not prepared to be taken. She smashed through the window and jumped into the cold misty night.

Seconds later they heard the screams. Dumbledore stood up, wincing from the pain in his healed hip. Farewell, Xanthe.

"Kingsley, prepare an Order rendezvous and I will send word to the European commanders for their troops to arrive all at once."

32. The Second Prophecy

The Second Prophecy

Disguised as a red-haired, short man, James strolled into Gringotts. Bill, who had been asked to join Grindelwald by Dumbledore, followed him. Bill knew more of Gringotts than any of the mismatched bunch Grindelwald put together in their team.

Each of Grindelwald's men went to a free counter, while another two stood at the entrance, were pointing at the marvellous goblin architecture.

They were scouting, observing, mentally taking down details of passageways and so on. They weren't really going to take over the bank; they just needed the right illusion to get Voldemort panicking and the goblins on their side. But everywhere James looked, he saw goblins in armour, holding glowing spears, their suspicious beady eyes watching their every move.

While the goblins have been preparing for an attack on the bank, and on their species for years, they've been furious with disappearance of several goblins by both Grindelwald and Voldemort. Yet they were too proud, too mistrusting of the new Ministry and the Order to create an alliance. James's hard work was paying off; however he felt uneasy using the goblins like this.

There was no way Voldemort would attack soon, but it would give Dumbledore more time to butter the goblins up.

James slowly walked across to a counter and couldn't help but feel he was being watched. Surely, they couldn't know that it had been him spreading the rumours? He wasn't the only one doing it, quietly, but not so quietly telling others of Grindelwald's plan.

He noticed he bank was more crowded than usual, then he realised that wizards wanted to take their entire wealth out, to the point the goblins had to restrict the withdrawals of galleons to a certain sum a day. Luckily for James, a large sum of his money was offshore, having emptied most of his account years ago.

"I'd like to access my account, please."

"Do you have your key?" the goblin asked gruffly.

James slammed the key on the countertop. The goblin studied the key for a long time, making him slightly hot around the collar. "James Potter?"

He nodded. The goblin's black eyes twinkled as he regarded James carefully. The goblin cocked his head, quietly staring. It made James very nervous. Goblin guards started to approach them.

Oh shit!

There was a tap on his shoulder. Bill pointed towards the large ornate doors. To his horror, twenty known Death Eaters slowly approached them too.

The goblin pulled back and hissed something to his mate.

"How the hell—?"

James's order to suss out the bank didn't involve Death Eaters, or any strange, smoke spells appearing in the middle of the marble floor.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Gold grills suddenly came down on all the counters. They jumped out of the way, as the armoured goblins shouted and surrounded the smoky presence. Their shields were all up and their spears all aimed at it.

Out of the smoke a figure materialised. James wasn't briefed on Grindelwald making an appearance with four Imperioused goblins. Yet, here was the wizard, dressed in the finest vermillion and gold robes. Beneath the hood of his black cloak, James saw his cheeky grin.

Bill summed up the situation quite nicely. "What the bloody fuck?"

"Well, what a fine establishment you have here," Grindelwald purred. He whipped his wand faster than a flash and six Death Eaters fell dead. Then the surrounding goblins flew back with a thud.

And all James could think of at that very moment was, wow!

"PROTECT THE ENTRANCES!" the Goblins yelled, as Death Eaters started firing curses.

"GET DOWN!" James yelled as a spear hurled at their heads, penetrating the oak timber lining of the counter behind them. "Protego."

Through the screams, through the thuds of injured goblins and innocent wizards trying to get money littering the floor, James heard Grindelwald laughing like a maniac, grabbing two stray goblins, hurling them out of the way.

BOOM!

Marble, timber and metal flew over their heads. Then the entire foundations rattled.

How James and Bill managed to find themselves on the other side of the counter across the hall, they could not remember. But they got up wobbly, coughing. Bill groaned next to him and they saw twenty spears thrown at Grindelwald before he disappeared.

There was a large gaping hole to one of the tunnel entrances, like a mouth into the abyss. James and Bill looked at each other. "The protections are down," Bill said.

James looked around; they were the only ones in Grindelwald's party still alive.

"GO—GO!" James roared, grabbing hold of Bill's arm.

They Apparated the hell out of there as spears shot through the air, aimed at their heads.

(******)

Finding out that his Mirror Mother had had an affair with Snape really irked Harry. It hurt him more than his father having a relationship with a wealthy witch as Snape had explained during their training sessions. It's Snape… Snape's the issue… But he forced himself to continue being taught by Snape.

He rolled over in bed and listened to Ron snore.

It wasn't his world. They weren't his parents to even make a fuss about it. He knew that love did strange things to people. Love could also create war and betrayal. But why did this have to happen to his Mirror parents?

He wished the Tantibus Mentis potion would make him stop thinking about it though. Harry managed to distract himself with other things, like playing Quidditch or reading that book Snape gave him, and of course learning about his Mirror.

Harry switched the lamp on and propped himself up, plucking into his hands the evening edition of the newly reformed Daily Prophet. The front page headline read:

Grindelwald's Failure Taking Over Gringotts.

The news had taken over their world by storm. It was such a brazen act that the goblins now wanted blood. The Order was worrying about what Voldemort would do now. He saw James and Bill, bloodied up, straight after the attack from his bedroom window. They were talking with Remus about it and were really worried now about the repercussions.

Placing the newspaper down, he snuggled under his bed sheets and fell asleep. It was time to resume the connection.

Walking through a mirror on his window, Harry followed the Mirror and Malfoy into the Forbidden forest. He turned around and saw the light coming out of Hogwarts' thousand windows. They twinkled like stars as the Dementor mist twisting around the turrets.

Harry heard a branch snap, pulling him back to reality. He quickly followed them.

Minutes wore on, and the trees thickened and the forest grew darker. He saw a large spider web ahead and the shadow of large hairy leg, and clicking pincers. But his Mirror continued walking, unperturbed by the dangers of the forest. Malfoy, on the other hand looked a little twitchy.

"Are you sure nobody would see us, Harry?"

"Positive. I put up a façade on the windows, in case the curse gets out of hand."

"And, ah, what about our lives?"

Malfoy's question was never answered. It looked as though he had swallowed a flobberworm, making Harry chuckle. Even in his world, the Slytherin had a stupid look on his face when faced with an unpleasant prospect.

They stopped in the middle of a clearing and looked around. Then the Mirror took the locket Horcrux, placing it on the ground. He was hesitating, reluctant to destroy it.

Malfoy crossed his arms. "Do it."

They both backed away as far away as possible and Mirror Harry pulled out his wand.

"I hate using the Fiendfyre Curse. It's a bitch to control."

"I'm glad it's you and not me," Malfoy said. He was ready to do a runner in case the cursed flames went out of control.

"Bloody Slytherins," Mirror Harry huffed, raising his wand high.

Harry knew that the curse was going to be highly dangerous. The Mirror's wand arm trembled, a bead of sweat trailed down his cheek and then…

The boys doubled over in pain, as their Dark Mark burned. The Mirror swore out loud, and through the pain he raised his wand again.

"NO!" Malfoy yelled, terrified. "Remember, you'll need to preform the curse with a clear mind."

The Dark Marks burned again.

"We've got to go. The longer we're out here—"

"It needs to be done!" Mirror Harry growled. "I'll lose resolve."

"It's too late, Harry, we've got to go to him now. He hates tardiness, and he's punished you before for it."

"Give me your arm; I'll break through the charms and Disapparate us."

A mirror appeared on a tree trunk and Harry went through it, guessing that students were allowed to learn Apparition much younger in this world. Harry caught up with his Mirror, walking through a very deserted Diagon Alley with Charlie.

"Harry," his brother whispered, frightened. "Where are we going first?"

"I need to get Mum supplies for potion making."

"Okay, then, can we to go to Knockturn?'

"Why?"

The boy cowered slightly. "Er, I'm still interested in that—"

"Is that why you wanted to come with me? I told you I don't like it, and to get rid of it." He was whispering angrily, constantly looking around, hoping no one would hear them.

"Yeah but—hey those wizards in that alleyway are staring at you."

"Merlin's balls, Charlie, don't point!" Mirror Harry slapped his brother's arm down, "I'm not going to have this discussion here. There are Death Eaters everywhere."

Malfoy was leaning casually against the Quidditch supply shop, staring at them. He gave the Mirror a quick nod.

"Wait in the Quidditch supply shop. It's crowded and safe," he ordered Charlie.

Mirror Harry trudged his way over to Malfoy. "Following me?"

He scoffed. "I'm not that obsessed with you."

The Mirror rolled his eyes. "Draco, we're two days into the holidays, and I already have a dozen letters from you. My mother's getting suspicious of all the pink letters smelling like roses. She won't stop asking what her name is—Malfoy, it's not funny!"

"Oh shut up, it's hilarious, but," Malfoy scratched his nose, "you still haven't answered any of them."

"Yeah well, I'm taking a well earned break from everyone, by ignoring my mail," he snapped.

"You'll have zero friends in no time."

"Maybe that's what I want. I've got Charlie annoying me, and I really don't need you to be as well."

"I'm trying to save your arse, Potter!" Malfoy snapped. "Have you destroyed the locket?"

Mirror Harry touched his chest, and then pulled on the clasp of his cloak. "I haven't had the right opportunity yet. Just thought I'd go to Gringotts and check it out."

"Well aren't you lucky I'm here." Malfoy dangled a tiny golden key in front of the Mirror's eyes.

The Mirror's eyes widened. "How did you get that?"

"Auntie Bella wants me to gather some money for her. I've got a letter and everything. So you won't have to break in after all."

"You're brilliant!" He grinned.

"You owe me big time," Draco said, eyes bright. "Wait for me here in an hour." He strolled off to Gringotts.

The Mirror watched him disappear before finding his brother. "Come on, let's go." The boy stared at him as they took off into another direction. "God, alright, let's go down Knockturn. First, we need to put on a disguise and then I'll do all the questioning!"

Charlie looked ecstatic, placing the hood of his cloak over his eyes. "Thanks Harry."

Harry noticed a mirror on a shop front door and went through. Now he saw Malfoy whispering to a very bewildered Mirror. This time Charlie was no where to be seen. Harry guessed he had gone home.

"Where could it be then?"

"It's been moved. I checked everywhere for it."

"This isn't a good sign. If he moved it, it's for a good reason. Maybe he knows I've been destroying the Horcruxes. What if Bellatrix told him I found out about the cup?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. There's got to be another reason. If Bella told him, she'd be dead," Malfoy voiced. "Let's go home and meet tonight to destroy the locket."

Another Mirror appeared and this time it was dark and Malfoy was angry as he stood in the middle of a wet cobbled street.

"What the fuck are you waiting for, Potter? We need to go up that hill and destroy it."

"I can't do it here," the Mirror said, waving around Godric's Hollow. Behind them, there was a rather rowdy reception at a Muggle pub. Then an alarm had gone off alerting people that curfew would soon be enacted.

"We're not. Hurry the hell up—!"

Then their Dark Marks burned.

Malfoy cringed. "Why does he keep summoning us?" He rubbed his aching arm.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

Through another mirror and this time both boys were staring at Voldemort. Bellatrix was grovelling at his feet. "We have moved your precious artefacts that you have collected over the years, my Lord, and your money from your own vault."

"Have you deposited it at the Nox's manor house?"

"Yes, but why there, my Lord? We could provide you—"

"They are very particular about security, and my wealth will be under their most precious care. Besides, they're on Dumbledore's side and he won't suspect it since I've placed the modified Imperious Charms on the whole family."

The Mirror watched Malfoy from the corner of his eye. His hands were twitching.

Behind Harry, another mirror appeared, and he quickly rushed through it.

Malfoy grabbed the Mirror's arm on the top of a hill. They watched the sun glide under the horizon. "This is it. We've got to go for it."

"I think it's a trap. Our master wouldn't easily disclose that sort of information, especially to a pair of teens."

Malfoy pointed a finger into his face. "You're stalling. The Dark Lord trusts us."

"He trusts no one, but himself. Believe me, I know him more than you do. What you saw was a show."

Malfoy angered, and Harry could see the disappointment and rage in his eyes. He lunged at the Mirror, hand grabbing the locket Horcrux through his robes.

"GET OFF ME!" His fingers were in Malfoy's eyes. The Slytherin yelped and punched the Mirror's nose. Then the boys were on the ground fighting, fists flying in all directions.

Mirror Harry touched Malfoy's head, making him scream in pain.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The Mirror let go and stumbled, wiping blood from his face. "DUMBLEDORE'S—"

"IT'S NOT DUMBLEDORE!" Malfoy roared, pulling himself up. "This is me. Don't you see what you've become? I'm trying to save you, Potter!"

"I DON'T NEED SAVING. STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

Another mirror appeared.

This time, Mirror Harry paced his backyard. It looked as though it was still the same night he had fought with Malfoy, as he was sporting a rather nasty black eye and his nose was bruised. He paced up and down the clearing, wringing his hands. An owl hooted somewhere and he jolted.

"I've got to do this… I have to." He was pacing around a boulder, looking quite agitated.

The locket lay deceptively innocent on the boulder. And he stared at it, with his hands clenching and unclenching.

He pulled out his wand, twirling it around. "I need to risk using Fiendfyre here…" he whispered, urging himself on.

Then the Dark Mark burned. He hissed in pain, ignoring it.

Harry sat down on the Potter's bench watching his Mirror pace for over an hour ignoring the summons. Then Harry watched him raise his wand. Calmly and in concentration he moved the wand in a circular motion.

"Ignis Sacer," he whispered.

A red glow materialised from his wand tip and then the head of a large, extremely ferocious dragon reared its teeth. Heat, debris and ash wafted past them. The Mirror had to hold his wand with both hands for control.

Harry watched, never having seen such a spell before and it was awesome. He urged his Mirror to destroy it, just as he had willed Ron to destroy the locket.

But the Dark Mark burned again and the burgeoning dragon roared and vanished. The Mirror fell back, swearing loudly. He was so angry he threw his wand at the locket in disgust. When the wand clanged into the locket, a strange unearthly sound vibrated from it.

The Mirror's Mage power pulsed from him in black smoke, killing the vegetation around him. "Fine!" he spat, giving in to Voldemort's demands.

But instead of putting the locket around his neck, like he usually did, the Mirror hesitated. Harry felt his sudden fear, that something wasn't right.

He placed the Horcrux in a magically concealed pocket in his jeans and vanished with a pop.

Through a mirror on the brick wall, he realised he was in Harry and Charlie's bedroom.

"Hey…" Mirror Harry entered the bedroom, carrying a dirty rucksack. His cloak was muddy and he looked tired. He dumped his belongings onto his bed, dirtying it.

"What?" Charlie snapped at him.

"I, er, went to Luna's. She's really scared since her dad's been imprisoned. She's going to her distant relative's in France."

Though Harry saw Charlie could not help glance at his brother's weary, dishevelled state. "Yeah I know. She's my best friend after all. Now leave me alone."

"Oh come on, Charlie. Talk to me."

Then Harry felt sudden fury in his Mirror. How odd, he thought. He placed a Silencing Charm on their room.

"I can make you—"

"You can make me talk?" Charlie narrowed his eyes. "Are you going to torture me too?

Mirror pursed his lips, hands in fists, thinking.

"It's been two months since you up and left without saying goodbye. Mum and Dad were absolutely furious, you know. They've been worried sick."

"I needed to get away."

"What, so, you can practice the Dark Arts on Muggles and capture Muggle-borns?"

"Look," Mirror Harry's voice was burgeoning on rage. "I haven't had a chance to speak to you about that incident in the garden—"

"You're a Death Eater!" Charlie said as a matter of fact, flipping a few pages of his book roughly.

"Only because Dumbledore told me to become one."

"What?" Charlie gripped the back of his chair. "Why would he do that?"

"To get close to Voldemort and I'm high up now, but it doesn't mean I've stopped caring about ending this war."

"Why aren't you with Voldemort now, sucking up to him?"

"I don't need your cynicism!"

The younger brother recoiled. Harry could see the fear on his face, as the boy now was trying to calmly speak with his older brother. "What happened after Voldemort defeated Dumbledore?"

"I was on a mission."

"How did you get those scars on your body?"

"How the hell—?"

"I saw them by accident last night. Harry, we share a bloody room."

He swore out loud. "Have you told anyone?"

"No. You know I won't. Even though Mum and Dad keep asking, and Hermione sends me letters all the time."

"She sends you letters?" This surprised the Mirror.

"She's worried about you."

"Cut it off, Charlie. I don't want you talking to her."

"You came back with this haunted look in your eye. You changed so much. She just wants to know how you are. We all do."

"You're really toeing the line—"

"No! You listen to me, Harry." Charlie pointed a finger into his face. "You weren't on a mission right after Dumbledore's defeat—"

"Of course I was."

"What were you doing?"

"I had been captured by a vampire and his Mrs, while travelling there. I was looking for a Horcrux in their house where the Dark Lord had once been, and they caught me… they wanted my power. Apparently being a Mage means my blood has special properties, whatever the hell that means."

Charlie looked at him oddly. "You're not—?" The Mirror shook his head. "Hmm…" Charlie tapped his fingers on his desk.

Harry thought he didn't quite believe his brother, and he couldn't blame him because he knew his Mirror was lying.

Books were opened everywhere on Charlie's desk. It was quite messy. Harry noticed strange words, scripts in different languages and several drawings of intricate daggers.

"Forgive me, but I don't believe you."

Mirror Harry pulled off his tattered Gryffindor scarf, exposing his neck. "See the scars, Charlie? Fang marks. See them here and here?" He showed his wrists, but Harry could see other scars on his skin, which were not made by vampires, but by curses. "Believe me now?"

Charlie looked shocked and repulsed. "That could've happened on any of your missions."

Mirror Harry pointed his wand into the boy's face. Green sparks flew out, yet the younger brother didn't bat an eyelid. "If you want to remain alive, you should keep away from me. I'm leaving again for awhile, after the picnic. I'll be gone for a few months straight this time. All I want to know before I leave, is what did you do with it?" Mirror Harry's eyes flicked towards the opened book of daggers behind Charlie.

"I got rid of it, like you told me to. No one knows."

"Then why are you still investigating it?

"Out—out of interest."

"Get rid of it. I'm warning you."

"Is it truly evil? I've touched it a few times—"

"I told you not to!" Mirror Harry grabbed his brother by the shirt, and yanked him forward until he was just an inch from his frightened face. "When I say do something, I say it to save your miserable life." He smacked his brother against the wall for added effect.

"Okay—shit—okay I will, tonight" Charlie gasped. "But tell me, what did you do to Mildred, huh?"

The Mirror looked away, letting go.

"What did you do to her?" Charlie whispered, straightening up his jacket.

"I killed her."

"Why?" Charlie recoiled. "You loved her, Harry."

"It was just a cat!" he retorted harshly. Charlie shook his head in shame. "And if you know any better, you'll stop pestering me."

Harry saw another mirror and quickly stepped through.

The new scene he witnessed was chaotic. Students were crying, terrified, in shock. He realised he was in the Gryffindor common room, packed with students.

"They were petrified t-t-to death…" a tiny first year sobbed. Harry gasped, seeing Ginny comforting the little girl.

Then the room went quiet. Students pulled themselves out of his way as Mirror Harry walked past them. He then walked out of the common room.

Harry followed him to the Hospital Wing where some of the teachers had congregated around Dumbledore's bed in an urgent meeting. The teachers all fell silent as he approached.

The headmaster lay in his bed, with the crisp linen and blankets taut over his body. "We've just been talking about you, Harry."

"I'd like to speak with Professor Dumbledore alone."

Dumbledore nodded, and Snape turned around. "We shouldn't leave you alone—"

"Go Severus—help with the search for this murderous creature."

Snape seemed against such a suggestion, but obeyed him, though not without a long lingering stare at the Mirror.

After the other teachers left, carefully in twos or threes, Mirror Harry sat down. He was very pale and there was a look of death about him, even though he was very alive.

"Harry—"

"It wasn't me," the Mirror implored. "I'm talking to you as though I had never changed."

Dumbledore's hand trembled as he touched his temple. "I believe you. But do you know who did, because this person looked like you?"

"No clue, but it's obviously the Dark Lord's work."

"Voldemort… Harry, I am happy you've come to speak with me… those messages you sent me during the summer didn't ring true to me. What had happened to you?"

Mirror Harry crossed his arms. Even now, his Mirror was angry with Dumbledore. "You still haven't gotten your memory back, have you?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid a lot of my memories are gone, and many of my new memories disappear within a day."

"I've heard."

"Tell me."

"All you need to know, and remember, is that I never opened the Chamber of Secrets."

"But you knew of such a chamber existing."

"I needed to know everything about my master, remember?"

As the boy stood up, towering over the headmaster, there was a red glint in his eyes. It was so subtle, like a devious secret slyly teasing them with the truth.

Dumbledore saw it. He recoiled and seemed shocked. "Harry?"

Harry stood back, heart pounding as he watched a leer form on his Mirror's lips. And all he could think of was Ginny. Ginny when she had been possessed by Tom Riddle.

"Harry?" Dumbledore grabbed the boy's hand, trying to stop him from going.

"It's over. Your side has lost and the basilisk's loose… If the school's not vacated in hours, there will be more deaths."

"Harry, what happened to you? What has he done to you?"

Mirror Harry was grinning. He was on the verge of laughter. "He opened it to turn everyone against me, so my loyalty could be complete. I think it's worked, don't you?"

"Call the basilisk—lure it back into the chamber—!"

"I… I can't."

And with those last words, he yanked his hand from Dumbledore's grip,

"Harry, I can help you."

"It's too late." And he vanished with a pop.

The memory ended and no other new mirror came through.

Harry was breathing heavily. "Harry, did Voldemort possess you to open the Chamber?"

There was no reply, but he heard his Mirror's echoing, teasing laughter, and it sent a chill through him.

Harry strode into his bedroom and found his Mirror sitting on Tristan's bed.

"I'm going to wake soon and you'll be out of this world in no time."

"Okay then, show me everything before you wake up."

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"Why are you so scared to show me? What have you got to lose? You've already lost everything. Why didn't you tell your brother the truth?"

"Some things are better left unsaid, forgotten..."

Harry looked at him coldly, feeling as though he couldn't care anymore. "Are you going to end this war?"

"Yes. But I know what I've done. I've killed and tortured people, and I killed my own brother… I put you in prison... I almost had you killed. There is no way of moving past that."

"You'll find a bit of peace telling people what you've done. They want to understand your motives and why you turned. Your family loves you, they just want the truth."

But the Mirror left without another word.

When Harry woke, he stared at the dark ceiling, realising that Ron wasn't snoring.

"You all right, mate?" There was a rustle of bed sheets as he turned in bed. "Did you contact him again?"

"Yeah…" Harry rolled onto his side, cringing in pain. "Ron, did you ever think Harry was not Harry anymore?"

"Well, we just thought he changed with all the stuff he was doing."

"Did Harry ever tell you about an object called the Obsidian Stitch?"

"Nah." Ron switched on the lamp.

"Er, would you mind contacting Hermione?"

A wide grin replaced Ron's sleepy face. "She doesn't know about you. But yeah, I'll contact her for you. It may be days—she changes the passwords to her Floo everyday."

Harry sat forward, not feeling tired at all now. He covered his eyes with his hands, thinking. He was so fucking close, so close to just finding out things. He was now so incredibly frustrated.

"You know what, I'm going to piss him off and see him again."

"Continue at your own risk"

Falling asleep, he walked through a mirror with ease. This time he was in a dark room.

Suddenly there was a crash.

"HARRY!" Charlie yelled.

The Mirror pinned his brother against the bedroom wall. "Where is it?" he hissed.

"Y-you told me to get rid of it, and I-I-I did."

"You didn't do it properly it seems, I can sense it. It's still in the house!"

"Shit, Harry I-I don't know what happened to it."

"Don't lie to me!"

The younger brother cowered. "I'm so sorry." The Mirror let him go and watched Charlie fall to the floor. "But I promised Peter—we both did, Harry!"

"HE DIED BECAUSE OF IT! You are the biggest fucking idiot, Charlie. I've stalled as much as I could, but I can't keep thwarting the Dark Lord about it."

"I—how the hell does he know?"

"He sent me on a mission to find it," he snapped. "Who did you speak to about it in the summer?"

"I asked Half-breed Hunters in Knockturn and Hogsmeade. Hags, a werewolf hunter… But I was disguised."

Harry could see his Mirror was beyond control of his anger, his black power sizzled in the air around them, making their hair stand on end. "I feel like killing you right now. You did the most idiotic thing ever. Because of your actions lives are in danger. The Stitch has nothing to do with werewolves."

"I'm—"

"I don't want to hear your apologies, just get it out of our room now and take it somewhere, I don't care where. I just don't want to know."

Charlie looked incensed. "Why can't you do it?"

"You don't know the destruction it possesses." The Mirror paled. "Besides, you really don't understand what is happening to me.—"

"What happened when you touched it? I know you lied to me."

Sighing, he said, "it's like experiencing hell and it wants to make me suffer. Charlie, you can't let it fall into the wrong hands, which includes me. Only someone with a pure heart can touch it without it affecting them. I know there's so much to find out about it, but Voldemort wants it, so it's bad."

Charlie got up and dusted himself off. "Ok, ok. I'll go now. Just tell Mum and Dad I will be gone for a few hours."

"Good. Just be back before dawn. We've got that stupid picnic tomorrow that Mum's organising to make us feel like a proper family again, and she'll start asking questions if you're not back in time." The Mirror sighed and placed a hand gently on Charlie's shoulder. "Let me change your looks this time."

Charlie eyed his brother suspiciously as the Mirror set to work changing his facial features. "Voldemort did something to you, didn't he? I see a totally different person in you. It's like you're fighting a battle from within."

For a moment there was terror in the Mirror's eyes.

"Fight it." Charlie gripped his brother's shoulders. "You destroyed the Horcruxes—"

Then the Mirror laughed out loud, a cold derisive laughter that reminded Harry of Voldemort's. "It's over. He made more."

The brother was horrified. "You destroyed them for nothing?"

"Not precisely, hence why Voldemort wants the Stitch."

"What does it do?" Charlie sprung backwards, falling into his desk chair.

"Whatever it does, it feeds on innocence, and that's something which I don't have. It mocks and torments those with none."

A mirror shone bright on the window. Harry sighed and returned to his bedroom again. But he found his Mirror smirking back. "May I enter your mind?"

"Why?"

"Well, I'm interested in your Horcrux hunt. You have a few Horcruxes to find and time is running out for you, isn't it?"

Harry nodded cautiously. "I know what they are and where they are."

"Of course, the diadem and the cup… that snake… but there is another… and I think the answers are all in your head."

"Another? Look I don't feel—"

"Comfortable? How do you think I feel every time you enter my mind and rifle through my memories?" His eyes glowed eerily. "It's terrible. It's torture."

Harry sat down. Unlike his Mirror, he had nothing to hide. "Go ahead. I thought you would've changed after what happened last time."

"It did, massively. But I still hate. That hasn't gone."

Harry begrudgingly went back to his own side of the mirror and waited for the mirror to ripple, to see the haunted face of his mirror staring back at him.

He shivered when the wizard disappeared into wisps of silvery smoke and Harry trembled.

A glimpse of a green curse backfiring… his mother screaming… Harry was in Dumbledore's office and the silvery object on the table emitted two entwining smoke snakes. "Yes, but in essence divided, of course…" Dumbledore said... He was in the graveyard and Wormtail was pressing the blade to his shoulder, drawing blood… Voldemort possessing him in the Ministry of Magic… Harry sensing the locket's heart beating against his chest, and then… Nagini… he was Nagini, striking Mr Weasley again and again…

Harry gasped, clutching the bed, realising that he had fallen. When he looked up his Mirror stood over him, glaring.

"Take my hand, Harry," he commanded.

Hesitantly, Harry took it and was helped up, so that now they stared at each other into their green eyes.

"Do you know what the Horcrux is now?"

"I have no clue."

"Take a wild guess." There was a smirk playing on his Mirror's lips. "I know what it is."

"Stop fucking around—!"

"You are better than me, Harry. You're everything my parents would've been proud of…" he said it with such sadness. "You're the one Voldemort should be frightened of, not me."

"Well, are you going to tell me?" But something in his mind was reeling, a realisation so profound that he wanted to escape.

The Mirror sensed this and gripped his wrists. "Look at me," he said, holding him firm. "Have you ever wondered why you have a connection with Voldemort? Have you wondered why you could see through the eyes of his pet snake, when you should not have reason to?

"You've got it all wrong—"

"Inanimate objects always made the best Horcruxes. Living things, on the other hand, are much more dangerous to control."

The Mirror eyes looked up onto Harry's lightening bolt scar and suddenly blood trickled down from it.

Harry gasped. It clicked, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. A hot, unwelcome feeling flooded his stomach, much like the blood slithering down his face.

"You've known," his Mirror smirked, "and for the last two years you've been denying it."

He felt revulsion that he was the unwilling vassal for a part of an evil soul.

"Oh my god!" Harry sat down, shivering all over. Fingers touched his scar. "I'm a-a Horcrux. Me?"

Mirror Harry crouched down. "An accidental Horcrux… but your love and that of your mother's sacrifice has protected you from its more violent effects."

He was too distraught to even think about the broader affects of this knowledge.

Then over the buzz of his petrified mind, the Mirror spoke again.

"Have you wondered why Voldemort is scared of me, yet wants me protected and guarded? Because unlike you—being an accidental Horcrux, mine, as unwilling as I was in the beginning, had imprisoned me. It melded with my soul and almost took control. It wrote that bloodied graffiti on the cell walls, it forced me to do things I didn't want to do. It opened the Chamber."

Just like Ginny…

"When did you become one?"

"During my conditioning."

"Were you him all the time?" Harry asked, moving away from him.

"No. I pushed it back a lot of the time, I had to, or otherwise, the Stitch would've been in Voldemort's hands early on and my entire family dead. I fought it… It was difficult and it weakened me a lot. But then in Azkaban I stopped fighting...' He paced the bedroom. "In a way, I welcomed it… it made me stop caring and hurting. Voldemort wasn't frightened of what they did in Azkaban, he was only scared of death… knowing that one day he would enact his revenge."

"Not all the time, you started testing the Atoners."

"Yes. In the last months I was there I started to push back; I wanted it all to end. I was sick of everything."

"When you first met me—were you him?"

"Sort of, but if it had full control, you would be with Voldemort already." He smirked. "But I thought, no, I'm not going to let him win. I wanted to see what you would do. And for days I fought it before going back to him—to Snape's. I wanted to be in control again."

"Why did you go to your parents when you escaped?"

"I wanted to see my sister. I wanted to take her."

"To condition her?"

The Mirror closed his eyes. "I wasn't thinking straight. Voldemort's soul, the Dark phase and my experiences had tipped me over the edge."

"I can agree with that," Harry said bitterly. "And, what happened to Voldemort's power?"

"I destroyed his power when he turned me into a Horcrux. Then I urged him to create more before he realised the repercussions. His soul became so unstable and weak, his power became like dying amber. Without unicorn blood, he'd be as useless as a squib."

"But how the hell is this war meant to end if he made more?"

The Mirror crossed his arms, thinking. "I'll need to destroy them. But I think the answer lies with the Stitch. It will be the Dark Lord's cure and his death, if I'm right about it. When I had touched it the second time, I thought it was ripping my soul apart. But now I think it was actually ripping his soul from mine. If I had endured through it, perhaps I wouldn't have been possessed for so long."

However, with the realisation that the both of them were Horcruxes, Harry grew frightened. "Are you still possessed?"

"No anymore. You saved me, Harry. Your love did. We are essence divided, just like you are," he said excitedly. "When you severed our souls, I realised how exhausted I was." He stared, bright eyed into the mirror of their connection. "I am so tired of it all."

"Do you think Voldemort knows about me?"

"I don't think so. He's lost all sense with the Horcruxes a very long time ago and on occasion, when he tries to enter my mind, I put up an illusion."

"So before you saved Dudley and when you killed Peter, you were fighting it?"

The Mirror nodded, and then contemplated his words. "The same with Charlie."

When Harry woke up, he felt sick. He sat up, his heart pounding in his ears, his hands shaking. Distantly he heard Ron trying to speak to him.

He felt his bed dip under Ron's weight. But Harry just shook his head and covered his eyes with his shaking hands. He felt Ron's hand on his shoulder, with a gentle squeeze of reassurance, it was then he told him.

"I'm… I'm a Horcrux." He blurted quickly while he still had the courage to say it.

Ron's eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock. He licked his lips. "There's got to be a mistake. You can't—"

"And so is Harry. Ron, that's why he's so been fucked up for years!"

"He—he is?" Ron stood up. "When he opened the Chamber of—"

"He was possessed."

"Calling Hermione a Mud—"

"Possessed."

"Killing his brother?"

"Possibly, but he was definitely fighting it until he got to Azkaban."

"Fuck!" Ron sounded winded.

Harry covered his eyes again. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, er, let's just take a deep breath and drink up some firewhiskey. I knew we'd need it."

Harry nodded. He didn't want to think about being a Horcrux.

(******)

It was a blessing that Ron had kept him company. He distracted Harry from all thoughts to do with Horcruxes and death. By the early afternoon, Harry sat in his armchair, with a large book resting on his legs, Secrets of the Magos, while Ron flicked through some comics.

"Hey listen to this," Harry blurted excitedly, "In 1132, Henry Smyth founded an English society of Mages in order to pursue a more advanced power. The society totalled twelve members and they gained their power through Dark magic in a ritual that originated from ancient Greece.

"However, the society only lasted for four years when another member, Lady Enndolynn Herbert, had ambition to become a Dark Lady, and develop her own Queendom. She thought that absorbing the Mage power of ALL eleven members, and thus killing them would make her invincible and immortal.

"She never fulfilled her ambition, because her power ultimately destroyed her. Her body and power evaporated, returning back to nature in a cataclysmic event which destroyed an entire ancient Wizarding town of Vipont and its surrounding forest. An echo of her soul did remain, however, to spawn a Dementor."

"I've never heard of that happening," Ron gasped in surprise. "Don't go doing that, thanks. I rather like you."

Harry chuckled. "I suppose wizards are scared that people would get the wrong idea if they knew about this history, that's why we've never heard of it. But wow, I didn't know that's how a Dementor's born."

"One of the ways they're born," Ron frowned. "You know, I think you've channelled Hermione's spirit. Put that book down!"

Harry grinned, obeying Ron's command. "Have you had any luck contacting her yet?"

"Nah. Listen, do you wanna' go out for some fresh air? I'm sick of being cooped up in here."

He agreed and Ron threw the comics on his bed and leapt up.

They passed the living room, where Remus was teaching Ashley and Tony Defence. They sat in a circle on the floor with books open everywhere and their wands by their sides.

Harry told him they'd be out for a bit.

"Oh, can we come?" Ashley pleaded with big blue eyes.

"I'm afraid not, you need to study first." Remus smiled and turned to the boys. "Boys, stay within the boundaries and Harry be back in time for training with Severus."

"Yeah, we know," Harry concluded, waving his phoenix headed cane around. It was two days ago he realised that the cane was the same one Dumbledore had used in his Mirror's memories.

"Also, if you're both going by the stream, catch some fish for dinner—oh wait!" Remus pulled himself up. "Harry, I've got something to give you."

"Oh?"

They followed the werewolf into his shabby wooden kitchen. Remus opened a locked cabinet, delving his arm within, and pulled out a parcel. "Your belongings."

Harry ripped it open and felt as though he had found lost treasure. He felt brighter knowing he had his belongings again. He snatched the pouch unstrung it, shaking its contents out onto the table. The snitch, the letter, the broken piece of mirror and the destroyed locket Horcrux, glinted in the soft light streaming though the kitchen window.

"And this…" Remus pulled a long thin package tied with twine, "and also your glasses which your Mirror had stolen."

Harry quickly ripped it open the package, heart beating rapidly. It was like being reunited with a missing friend. The Holly and Phoenix wand came to life as he held it, yellow and gold sparks bounced off the kitchen walls. It was gleaming; someone had kindly polished it for him. He looked up, and saw that both men were grinning ear to ear.

"I bet it feels great having your wand back," Ron mused.

"Words can't describe it." Harry gave it a twirl; thinking about just being reunited with his wand, and a Patronus of a stag flew out. It galloped around the kitchen and out into the living room where Ashley and Tony whooped in glee.

If he had been asked to produce a Patronus a few of weeks ago, he wouldn't have been able to. His feelings had been so dark, angry and sad.

"A stag, Harry? James will be ecstatic about that," Remus smiled.

"Er, may I ask what my Mirror's Patronus is?"

Remus looked up glumly.

Ron answered, "Harry was the youngest person to ever succeed with the Patronus Charm. It was a boar with huge tasks."

Harry was surprised by this. "Just like Charlie's animagus form?"

Remus seemed shocked that he knew. "Yes. And he created that Patronus way before Charlie ever wanted to become an Animagus." He strode out of the kitchen, shoulders slumped.

"Let's get out, "Ron said, pulling Harry by his hoodie, towards the back door.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, but Charlie was his godson…"

(******)

They finally stopped by a stream after a twenty minute walk. Harry lay down on the dewy grass, head against a boulder. He quietly watched Ron skid some stones along a stretch of still water. The Dementor mist hung about even here, over the water, making it look like steam, and Harry felt as though his body was covered in a cloud.

He remembered sitting near the lake in sixth year, early one Saturday morning with Ginny. He loved the feeling of the morning mist as it swirled around their thickly cloaked bodies. He remembered how the cold of the mist hit their faces and their breath, and all he wanted to do was warm his lips on hers.

"Have you got a girlfriend?" Harry asked Ron, as he reminisced about Ginny.

"Er, sort of…" Ron threw a stone. "Hermione and I have grown really close over the last year. I had a fling with Lavender during school. She was my first kiss, but she was a bit hysterical, that one."

"It was the same with your Mirror. I hope Lavender didn't call you Won Won."

Ron's ears turned pink. "Let's not discuss that."

"Oh God, she did!" Harry laughed.

"Er… then I saw Lisa Turpin for a bit, until when we both broke it off last Halloween. She was my first shag." He smiled sheepishly, and then he cleared his throat, with a mischievous look on his face. "Who was your first?"

"Shag?" Harry said darkly.

He looked away, his heart falling into his stomach. He definitely didn't want to talk about losing his virginity to a bunch of Atoners in Azkaban. That was far too serious for this light hearted conversation. Neither could he lie that he had it with Ginny. Harry was sure Mirror Ron wouldn't appreciate that information. So he elaborated on his first kiss and went from there.

"Er… Cho."

"Cho Chang? You sly bastard!" Ron chuckled. "She only had a thing for the popular boys. You really are famous!"

But Harry didn't smile back. He never thought of Cho being that sort of girl. She was lovely and kind, and sad. He sighed, and decided to move away from discussing his first fake shag.

"I'm seeing Ginny now. I was. I mean, we're having a break with the war and everything."

"Harry was interested in Ginny, but she wasn't. I guess it was a good thing she didn't in the end." Ron sighed. "Harry had a fling with Parvati late in fifth year… don't know if this continued after she was conditioned." He picked up a stone, touching the smooth grooves with his fingertips.

"Who is your sister seeing now?" He had to ask.

"Cedric Diggory. He visits once a week from over the hill."

Harry gasped. Ron snorted as he fell back on the grass next to him and picked up two twigs.

"Yeah, I know, I had the same reaction when I found out, but he's a great guy, I s'pose."

Ron placed the twigs side by side, and transformed into fishing rods, complete with hook, line and sinker.

"Cedric died in my world," Harry mumbled.

"Merlin! What happened?"

He sighed deeply and told Ron the story.

"Wow… So-so he actually used a Horcrux to come back?"

Harry nodded, and with a blink he saw Cedric's lifeless eyes.

Then Ron sighed and looked straight ahead into the mist, lost in thought. "I wonder what life would've been like if Harry died instead of Neville."

The thought of it unnerved him. "I really don't know. But I've seen first hand what would've occurred if Voldemort never went for my parents." Harry shook his head. "Ron, what happened between you and Harry?"

The red-haired wizard shrugged. "He became friends with Malfoy and he shut us out. He called Hermione a Mudblood three times. Then he opened the Chamber—well that's because we never knew he had been possessed by a Horcrux."

"What happened when the Chamber opened?"

"A hundred and three Muggle-borns died, and ten were petrified. Lucky there was some mandrake ready for a remedy, because three of those petrified pointed their finger at Harry. They had seen Harry with the basilisk, and they heard him speaking in Parseltongue."

"Why wasn't he imprisoned?"

"Dumbledore believed Harry, so he wasn't prosecuted, although the Aurors did try trapping him for an interrogation," Ron explained. "I suppose the Aurors couldn't track him down in Godric's Hollow, after Hogwarts closed, due to the Fidelius Charm. Besides, some Slytherins and Ravenclaws rallied behind him and an hour later, those Muggle-borns said the figure was disguised and hooded, and they refused to point the finger at him.

"In a way… It would have been idiotic if Harry hadn't disguised himself anyway."

Harry agreed. "Tell me about fifth year. When did your friendship break down?"

"Dumbledore was teaching him stuff, like usual… By Halloween he was hanging around Malfoy a lot, and started keeping us out of the loop about the Horcruxes. He became unusually quiet." He shook his head. "And then before Christmas he completely cut off all contact with us."

"He had a row with Hermione then, didn't he?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, Hermione approached when he came back from a mission all bloodied up. That was the first time he called her a Mudblood. I had a fight with him that night. I knew he was obsessed with developing his Mage ability, and Hermione was so worried that he was stuck in the first phase."

"How often did Harry go out on missions?"

"Every few days. He'd leave at night, coming back before the start of first class." Ron picked up a small pebble and closed it in his fist. "Harry used a lot of tricks. Sometimes I'd even be sitting next to him, to discover it was a non-speaking decoy! He could skive without tripping alarms and he used he's dad's Invisibility cloak a lot. But one time, post Christmas, he was gone for weeks."

Harry told him about the memory he witnessed between his Mirror and Dumbledore about the teddy bear Horcrux.

Ron seemed surprised. "Dumbledore said he was contagiously sick and had to be taken to a private suite in the castle. And I s'pose when was 'better' he was moved to Hospital wing, so no one thought any different. His brothers were barred from visiting. His parents thought he had gotten sick after his disappearing act during Christmas day."

Harry continued firing questions. "What about all the other Death Eaters at school? Dumbledore didn't do anything about them?"

"He refused to expel the Conditioned and refused to 'dob' them in to the Ministry, afraid they'd end up in a worse situation. After all, most the kids didn't have a choice becoming a Death Eater, did they?"

"But… weren't there any Aurors guarding the school, or even Order members?"

"The Ministry disliked the Order and so we backed off. But yeah, there were a lot of Aurors around. The only Order members involved were Tonks, Kingsley and Mad-Eye."

Harry guessed Mad-Eye had never retired in this world.

"But the Death Eater kids weren't stupid. They're highly trained and brainwashed. They knew how to circumnavigate the Aurors, and the spells of the castle. Voldemort specifically abducted a lot of smart kids during the summers for the job at Hogwarts. Their parents didn't care that they were Death Eaters as long as they were back home, safe within the start of the school year."

"What happened to the children who didn't return?"

"They just infiltrated you-know-who's army… or killed."

Harry sighed, staring at the misty stream. "Ron, I'm going to tell you something about Harry, about why he had acted the way he did in fifth year."

Ron looked away from the pebble he was holding. "Go on."

"You might want to sit down. This is going to be hard for me telling you too."

Harry told him all about Malfoy helping Harry, then Greyback, and later, his conditioning. When he finished, Ron was extremely upset. The lanky boy covered his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Harry whispered.

"It would've been so hard." He looked up, his eyes watery. "I just wish—fuck—I just wish he told us! He should've trusted us!"

"He did. He did trust you. He just didn't want to involve you anymore... And he's still is on our side. He just messed up big time." He shifted from the uncomfortable weight of his Mirror's memories.

"You sure?" Ron wiped his nose. "After he killed his brother and maimed his sister, he had the fucking balls to go to Hermione's house and tried to kill her. But Hermione's a smart witch, and the Aurors showed up, carting him off to Azkaban."

Harry was taken aback. "What did Hermione say about it?"

"Hermione always held the idea that Harry's still her best friend—she's insane! She and her parents left straight after to hide in Australia."

Harry didn't say anything. After seeing his Mirror's memories he was sure he didn't go to Hermione's just to kill her.

"So you've learnt a lot about Harry through this connection thing you've had." Ron stood up and was now looking for worms. But Harry noticed how tense he was. He was in shock.

"Yeah, sorry I haven't said much about what I've seen."

"I'd appreciate it if you can. I want to know everything…" Ron's eyes widened. "Er, looks like you have a visitor, Harry."

"Good Afternoon, Mr Weasley and Mr Potter."

"Hi Professor Dumbledore."

Harry didn't return the greeting.

"Ah, I think I might head back to the house," Ron said, "Dad wanted me to call him." He jogged past him with a sympathetic look on his face.

"Harry, you cannot ignore me any longer."

"I know."

"Severus told me that you are about to enter the Light phase."

"I am?" Harry blinked.

Dumbledore nodded. "The power you radiate during your training sessions, are turning white. Once you enter the light phase you will not be able to see anything, and your power will stay within."

Harry sat down on the stone wall, and let the gentle sounds of the stream and the birds fill the void. "What do you want to tell me?"

"Your power is progressing much faster than I had hoped. I can feel your power from where I sit. It is a power which I cannot ignore."

"I'm getting used to it," Harry said.

"I want to thank you for your help."

Harry snorted.

"You've helped your Mirror far beyond my expectations. When he wakes he is more like the boy I remembered. I am so sorry about what you've been put through."

"Is that it? You're sorry?" Harry hissed as his anger bubbled again. "There is so much I want to say to you, but—"

"You realise that you are a part of a bigger picture."

"I don't want to be a part of the bigger picture."

"I know, but your help has ensured that he will finish this war."

Harry grimaced. "What about me? What about my war?"

His words were met with silence, but he sensed Dumbledore's shame.

"Can I go home now?"

"Soon," Dumbledore replied. "I'd like you to give me your memories of the connection. I want to see them. I will return them before you go."

Harry chuckled to himself. "You just have another request of me? Is that all I'm good for?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "Come sit. I want to tell you something."

He was hesitant, but he eventually sat, several metres away from the old headmaster.

"It is a prophecy between you and your Mirror."

"This is getting ridiculous," Harry spat. "Please tell me how to get back home."

But Dumbledore ignored him. "Place your hand on mine," Dumbledore commanded.

When Harry did as instructed, something happened. He was instantly transported into a memory inside Hogwarts. Professor Trelawney sat in a chair in the office, in front of Dumbledore, wringing her hands. Dumbledore looked frail and shaky, wearing a dressing gown. They jolted when they heard McGonagall's voice telling the students to wait in their common rooms until it was time to evacuate.

"Hogwarts closed? Where shall I go?" Trelawney said, trembling. "I don't feel safe with all these Death Eaters."

"I will find a suitable lo—"

Trelawney's head snapped back and she inhaled a deep, rattling breath.

"Sybil?" Dumbledore asked, slowly rising from his chair.

She slowly exhaled as she lowered her head. Her eyes had rolled back, showing only the whites.

"The Mage who will defeat the Dark Lord has fallen amidst blood and tears… Broken twice, his scarred reflection will help him rise again … stronger than before... With the black that smells of death, he will lead us to peace…The Mage who will defeat the Dark Lord has fallen amidst blood and tears…"

Trelawney exhaled deeply and blinked. Dumbledore was shocked, mouth gaping at such a spectacle.

"Oww… I don't feel quite myself," she said, touching her head.

"I'm not surprised."

Dumbledore let go of his hand and Harry was transported back to the very spot, near the stream.

Harry ran his agitated hand through his hair. "Did you know he was a Horcrux?"

"So he definitely is one?"

Harry nodded. So am I.

"I must have known at one point."

"I think you realised when Harry pleaded his innocence with you."

"I remember that part, but I do not remember…" He tapped his fingers on his chin. "I only thought he was a Horcrux after you came, after I saw your memories in Azkaban."

"So… so I've fulfilled my part of the prophecy then, haven't I? I'm Harry's reflection, I've helped him. I've broken the possession of Voldemort's soul in him. They are separate entities now. Just-just like I am."

Dumbledore placed a hand on top of his. "You shouldn't worry about the Horcrux within you. You are strong and your love has protected you from its more lasting effects. And I think, it is my belief, that your Dumbledore knew that. When you face Voldemort, he will only kill the Horcrux, not you." He squeezed his hand.

Harry sighed. He couldn't think about that part of his war now. "Is he ready to wake up?"

"Almost," Dumbledore reflected. "It's safe to say that he'll be entering the Light phase soon, as you are. He will wake when he does. He may not be that innocent boy anymore, he has experienced too much and done so much wrong, but I know he'll end this war."

"He still hates you."

"That I cannot undo," he said sadly. "But I do not expect or seek forgiveness where I know I do not deserve it. I do appreciate that you have not harmed me."

"Well, what good would you be for the war effort if I hurt you?"

"True. See, you're beginning to think like me." Dumbledore nodded. "Now, I need your memories."

Harry hesitated. "All of them?"

Dumbledore peered at him though his glasses. "If you're worried about Lily's secret, I know. We will rectify the situation soon."

Harry felt the tension in his shoulders soften. He thought about the prophecy again. "What's the black that smells of death?"

"The Obsidian Stitch… although I am not quite sure how an object so Dark can lead us to peace."

33. Treacle Tart

Treacle Tart

Over the next two weeks Snape's training had been more exhausting than usual. After dueling and learning to control his spells, the second half of the lesson was focused on fine tuning his Mage ability.

Harry learnt to absorb the power of living things and to strike a balance with the absorption without killing them. He learnt to see through the eyes of animals and experience what trees feel, even sense the history of stone and water.

"Everything has a story to tell. As a Mage you will discover their secrets and be at one with them—with nature and the world—with the birth, death and the afterlife of all things, both sentient and inanimate."

They had been amazing experiences, perhaps enlightening, but also Harry just wanted to sleep for hours afterwards. He skipped dinner that evening to rest and found a folded note on his pillow.

Congratulations Harry, Severus has reported that you have officially entered the Light phase.

You are now a Mage. While you recuperate, I suggest you enter a new phase, one which would be useful in your war.

Dumbledore.

Harry already knew which one he'd be choosing: The Green phase or the Caro level, which will give him healing abilities. With a smile on his face, Harry instantly began dreaming the moment he closed his eyes. A mirror beckoned for him and he obliged.

As Harry entered a new memory of his Mirror he realised he was on the roof of the Potter's house. The Mirror, aged around ten, sat on the slates. He huddled his legs, silently watching James and Sirius laughing when they emerged from the house. They strolled down the path and vanished with a crack.

Carefully, Harry sat beside him. He thought it was a weird place for his Mirror to be. He watched the thin boy, with his square rimmed glasses and skinned knees, waiting for something to happen.

From one of the windows, a tawny owl flew into the air. It glided above him, and the boy outstretched his hand. The owl changed direction, landing on the gutter and stuck out its foot. The Mirror nimbly plucked the letter.

Harry looked over and read it with the boy. It wasn't anything important to any of them. Bethany Lupin was struck down with measles, and Lily was explaining her experience getting it as a child to Anne.

Mirror Harry rolled the parchment and tied it back on the owl's leg. "Thanks, Adamaris," he said, giving the owl a treat. He let it fly off to its intended destination.

They saw another owl flying in from the distance. He outstretched his arm again, but there was no need to. The owl had mail for him.

The boy straightened up, a wide grin on his face when he noticed the thick envelope with a green wax seal.

Excited, he watched the owl land beside him and quickly removed the letter, ripping it open.

"Dear Mr Potter…" He inhaled sharply, eyes bright. "CHARLIE!" Mirror Harry stood up, thrilled. "I GOT MY HOGWARTS LET—ARGHHHHHH!"

He slipped, tumbled off the roof, hitting the ground. The memory ended, and Harry expected another mirror, but the memory he was in suddenly deteriorated into darkness.

Harry heard terrified screeches which didn't sound human, and a bombardment of curses on solid material. Then light and chaos flooded Harry's sight. He realised he wasn't in the connection anymore, but was now witnessing a vision from Voldemort's mind.

Goblins were dead by his feet, and Death Eaters carting off dozens of chained goblins. Gringotts was now in ruins. Death Eaters carried trunks and bags full of galleons, knuts and sickles, and other treasure. Several of them fought their way out of the entrances, suffering from Goblin jinxes and curses. Many had severe burns and gruesomely, one wizard was screaming, because his eyes were nothing but a bloody mess.

"There's a dragon down there," one Death Eater yelled, pointing down an entrance. "It burnt Scholsberg and Marcus to death!"

Voldemort ignored him, and Harry saw Lucius Malfoy pulling forward a chained goblin. "My Lord, this is the manager—"

As part of the ceiling collapsed, shaking the floor, Malfoy shoved the goblin in front of his master. Harry saw defiance in the goblin's beady eyes.

"That was quite a battle," Voldemort said, amused. "For a moment, I thought we'd be defeated—"

"You'll pay for this, Voldemort! We won't surrender like this. That gold isn't yours!"

"It is now."

"You're nothing but thieves. The curses here will—"

Voldemort laughed. "I have several curse breakers in my army. And you are nothing. Goblins are no match to my power."

The goblin spat at Voldemort's feet.

Harry felt his scar burst in pain, and then Voldemort fired the Killing Curse. The goblin dropped to the ground.

"Kill them all," Voldemort hissed. "Let it be a warning to all goblins that you must bow down to us."

He moved around the carnage until he found Goyle laying still. A goblin made spear had gone through his back. But next to him, Severus Snape looked up as he tried stemming the blood from a leg wound, with a deeply wedged spear.

Harry thought he needed a lot more help than Emily's muttering of a healing incantation. She knelt by him, but unlike the Patil twins, who were skilled in healing, Emily only had limited knowledge.

"My Lord, I couldn't save him," Snape croaked, lifting his head.

Voldemort cocked his head in silence. Harry felt his disappointment with Snape." Voldemort waved around and two Death Eaters came forward. "Take him to Hogwarts," he commanded.

"No, I want to go home—"

"Severus, Pritchard will not be doing house calls anymore. He has been decapitated him."

The Death Eaters shoved Emily out of the way and picked Snape up. He yelled in pain.

Harry woke with a start.

(******)

Michael, Christopher and Dudley were in the backyard.

It had taken a while before Dudley wasn't so frightened to be in the same room with them. Their mother had warned them not to use magic in the house unless they wanted to be cursed into oblivion. So Michael and Christopher resisted the urge to curse their lump of a cousin.

Although Dudley had changed, they noticed, since they had seen him years earlier. He wasn't a fat kid anymore, but a muscled man, who looked as though he could crush a car with his hands.

Shame his attitude towards magic had only changed a little, no thanks to the Death Eaters almost killing him. But here they were together in the backyard, like a big, loving family, perfectly grating each others nerves.

It took days for Christopher to coax their cousin out of hiding. Chris was friendlier, and the patience and compassion their mother had. Sadly, Michael had none of those qualities.

Dudley's blond hair was slicked back, but the stubble covering his face didn't hide the scar on his cheek much. "Okay…" he growled. He crossed his arms tightly, emphasising his large, scary muscles. "Let's see some then."

Michael whipped out his wand, giving it a deftly twirl. Chris rolled his eyes from where he sat. "If Mum catches you, you're dead."

"What do you want to see me do?" he asked, ignoring his younger brother.

Dudley pointed. "Turn that rock into a feather."

Michael scoffed at such a boring demand. He flicked his wand, bathing the stone in mauve light and with a pop, a feather materialised. It wasn't a perfect transfiguration because the feather was grey and he wanted it white.

Dudley looked mildly impressed, though Michael knew he was really shitting his pants.

"Make that wheelbarrow fly."

With a simple swish and flick, the wheelbarrow rose into the air. That was such a rudimentary spell. One they learnt in first year. Michael knew of better and bigger spells. But whatever, he only wanted to satisfy his Muggle cousin's curiosity.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, can you clear up the sky?"

"Dudley, I'm a wizard, I'm not a demi-god."

Chris had to stifle a laugh. Dudley, on the other hand, flushed red, making him look really like his father now.

"Boys," their mother called from the doorway.

"Oh no," Christopher groaned.

She looked horrified. "Get. Inside. NOW!"

Michael pocketed his wand, grimacing.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO PLAYING AT?" she yelled as they stepped over the threshold.

Chris cowered at the doorway under his mother's gaze. "Mum, Dudley wanted to see—"

"Magic? He wanted to see it? Is that what you're about to tell me?"

She always went for Chris first, thought Michael. He was easier to break.

Chris nodded quickly, staring at Dudley who was smirking on the porch. "He did Mum! I know it's hard to believe, but we've been talking to him... about magic and stuff."

"It's true Aunt Lily. Please don't tell my parents," Dudley whispered, before strolling off with a sneer on his face.

She pointed a finger at them. "If you threaten him or give him any of those Weasley sweets, I will confiscate your wands!"

Michael fumed. Of course the thought crossed his mind a few times, but he wouldn't dare. Then he repeated something Uncle Vernon had said to them. "No funny business!"

Their mother opened her mouth and closed it in shock. "That's… that's right, Michael. No funny business, whatsoever."

"Can we go to Remus's, Mum?" Chris asked, bashfully. "We're really bored here, and it'll stop us from doing anything stupid."

His little brother always had a way with words. Truth was, not using their magic as much as they liked, and being in the presence of family who thought magical folk were dirt was incredibly stifling.

Fear filtered through her anger. "No—absolutely not."

"Why?" Chris and Michael said together.

"Remus has come down with a bad case of spattergroit. He is in quarantine at the moment." Then her expression softened. "Look, I feel the same way about being here. It's not my choice, but at least we are safe—"

"Safe? Why here and not with Remus? I'd be happier with spattergroit than living with Muggles who hate our guts," Michael spat, seeing Remus's little house down the hill.

"Get in the house now," she commanded.

Muttering to himself, Michael made his way in. The smell of a baked pastry, and treacle warmed his heart. He found himself in the kitchen where his Aunt Petunia, eyed him wearily.

"Whatchoo cooking, auntie?" He loved pushing her buttons.

Petunia pursed her lips. She didn't like them questioning her, so naturally Michael continued doing it.

"Treacle tart."

She turned the oven off and pulled it out, letting it rest on the stove. The smell wafted throughout the kitchen. Michael could do with a piece, with a lashing of vanilla ice cream. He went right over to it.

"Excuse me," Aunt Petunia shrilled, giving his knuckles a hard rapping. "You are not touching this tart!"

Vernon looked over his newspaper, scowling at Michael, before speaking with his wife. "Why on earth did you make it? I hate treacle."

"It's not for us," she said, smacking Michael away with a tea towel. "Now—you—get out of the kitchen."

Michael was disappointed. "Who's it for then? My dad?"

"For Mr Lupin."

Uncle Vernon snorted, and muttered something about freaks with stupid names.

Angered by Uncle Vernon's slight, Michael stormed out. He was also in a daze because he knew Remus didn't like treacle.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't see where he was going and smacked into a body. He walked right into Dumbledore. "Sir, I'm so sorry."

"Michael, is your mother upstairs?" The old wizard looked at him sternly as Atoner Agnes Cotter took off her cloak.

"Er, yeah she is. She's not in a good mood, mind you."

"We need to speak to her. Alone," he added. "Take your siblings out for a walk and don't interrupt us."

Michael hesitated, but he did was he was told, which he didn't do much of. Dumbledore was the only person he never crossed.

An hour later, Michael, Chris and Jessica were diligently trying to spy over the property into Remus's house with a pair of useless Muggle binoculars. They saw Dumbledore approach them.

"Everything fine, sir?" Michael asked.

"Your mother has had a small shock. Order matters, you see. But she's resting—"

Order matters… shock. That always meant bad things. Michael wasn't listening anymore. He had rushed into the house and up the stairs, smashing through the bedroom door to find his mother rubbing her eyes, and his Aunt Petunia stroking her hair back. That Atoner was there too.

"What's going on here? Is—is Dad okay?"

She smiled as her tears fell. The Atoner watched them silently, and passed her a Calming Draught.

"Give me a hug," his mother said, outstretching her arms.

"Mum what's wrong?" he asked, searching her watery, green eyes. "What happened?

"A curse was put on your mother, but she's fine now," Cotter drawled.

Michael angered. "What sort? Did Harry hurt you?"

"I was hit with the Confundus Charm. I was put under the curse when I—I raided a house last year."

"There's no need to worry further," Cotter said.

Michael looked at the Atoner fiercely. "My friend's mother was in Azkaban. She was put under the Imperious Curse and spied on the Unspeakables. She was jailed for it. So I know what your lot of capable of—"

"Michael!" Lily gasped. "Apologise to Agnes."

Cotter calmly packed her things away. "I'd best be going. I need to check on Remus's spattergroit."

(******)

Remus told them the news that Snape had not been seen for hours and that indeed, Gringotts had fallen after a fierce battle which killed hundreds of Death Eaters and a thousand goblins. The money and treasure might be in Voldemort's hands, however the goblins were livid and they wanted war.

Harry found his friends sitting sombrely in the kitchen, drinking butterbeer. He quickly joined in after a late morning session with Demus.

"Dumbledore would be preparing for battle," Ron said.

Harry took a swig of his butterbeer, wondering if Remus had found out more news. The werewolf was upstairs ill. It wouldn't be long until the full moon appeared again.

"I doubt Dumbledore will do anything until Harry wakes up."

"True, though if Snape's trapped at Hogwarts, he'll be worried. Wonder if he'll survive."

"Snape's a smart man—a git—but smart," Harry replied, swilling the bottle in his hands. "He'll make it."

"Dad told me about him." Tony placed his chin on his crossed arms. "He's awful."

"He's conditioned people too," Ron added.

Ashley squeaked, "Is he a vampire?"

The boys looked at each other, thinking the same thing, and burst out laughing.

"Harry, Lily's here again," Tony said, wiping away tears of laughter. He pointed out of the window.

Harry met her halfway up the path.

"Hello sweetheart, I can't stay long. Petunia made you a tart—well I tried to make it, but she took over after I burnt the first one." She sat down on the bench, looking tired and her eyes were red and puffy.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Aunt Petunia made me a tart?" Lily nodded. Harry felt faint from shock. "Well, I really am in a Mirror Universe if she has done that!"

She gazed at him sadly. "Oh don't, you'll make me feel guilty again about my Mirror sister."

"How are you coping with her?"

"We're getting along... When Vernon's not around, we chat, repair our relationship. I think she's starting to soften up being around freaks." She bit her lip and sighed.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes… no…" She said, handing Harry the tart. "I know you know about Severus and I. Dumbledore took the curse off this morning."

"Finally!"

"I'm just so disgusted what Harry did to me, that he made me think—" She covered her eyes and shook her head. "I feel so humiliated. Oh god, what if I had told James about it? And you must hate me."

"It's all right. I mean, I am upset, but…" Considering everything else that he has found out, Lily's affair was the least of his worries. "Do you know how Harry found out?"

"When I was having my troubles with James, and after I…" Lily took a deep breath. "I sent Severus a letter. I didn't want to see him ever again, and I said that I was stupid for staying with him, stupid for what I did and that I didn't love him that way, but like a brother." She bit her lip. "Problem was, and we discovered this later, was that Harry had been intercepting our letters before the owls had flown off. We found out when he fell off the roof."

That explains that memory last night. "Did he tell you that he knew?"

"He didn't mention anything about it, so I assumed he hadn't seen that particular letter."

"He said that once he heard you and James fighting about your relationship with Snape when you guys were kids."

"We met way before Hogwarts." She stared at him. "You've been told nothing about us in your own world?"

Harry shook his head. "I wish someone told me. Sirius or Remus—they could've said something. I've been kept in the dark much my life, Lily. I didn't know I was a wizard until I was eleven."

"I am so sorry, Harry. To know that you suffered as a child breaks my heart."

Harry felt numb to her words. He rubbed his cold hands together to distract his thoughts. "Why was Harry intercepting your letters in the first place?"

"He was interested in the war and he's part in it ever since he was told the prophecy… He was just a little misguided in the beginning. I tried to protect him from it all… yet he was always destined to be part of this war. We had to let him go." She looked so sad.

"He said that Snape took advantage of you. I wanted to believe it so, it just made sense—"

"No. He didn't take advantage of me." Lily hesitated. "Harry what I will tell you now must remain between us. Yes a part of me wanted revenge, but we never went that far. I just needed solace from my old friend, yes I stayed the night… but to reminisce, to laugh and cry. He tried his best to make me happy. We never had an affair."

What? He recoiled slightly. "So Harry lied to me?"

"He made up his own conclusions. He was terribly misguided by my letter. I think he was trying to make excuses for my actions and he wanted to blame Severus for it. But I had poured out my heart into that letter. I told him I could never love him the way he wanted me to, that I loved James."

He played with the foil around the treacle tart, trying to clear his mind.

Lily reached out and stroked his hair, her hand then coming to rest on his cheek. "Thank you for all your help. I hope you don't think too badly of me. But please Harry, please do not tell anyone the truth. Continue believing that I had an affair with Severus."

"Why?" Harry gently touched her hand.

"It is important that you do... to keep my daughter safe."

(******)

After they all enjoyed a slice of treacle tart, except for Remus, Harry took to a game of chess with Tony, while Ron played around with Floo passwords to get in contact with Hermione. He had been trying with no success for awhile.

Tony looked up, when he knocked Harry's knight out the way. "You're really bad at this, aren't you?"

Ashley giggled behind them.

Harry tapped his chin. "I can beat you at Quidditch."

The boy narrowed his eyes. "Wanna' bet?"

"You are growing way too bold—"

"HARRY, COME QUICK!" Ron yelled.

Harry told the children to stay put, before jumping down the stairs three steps at a time.

The fire was crackling in deep purple, but in the middle, Hermione's head stared back in awe. Ron hung back excited by her reaction, and closed the door, putting up the obligatory silencing charms around the living room.

"Er, hi," Harry said. He sat down near the fire. His heart was thumping with anticipation.

Hermione looked different in this world. Her hair was not frizzy, but in a short black bob.

"This is so amazingly rare!" She just stared at him in awe.

"Tell me about it," Harry smiled. "How's Australia?"

"Wonderful. Mum and Dad love the climate here—we can see the sun! The Wizarding community is so much friendlier." She grinned. "Now, Ron said you wanted to know about the Obsidian Stitch?"

"Yeah, did Harry—?"

"He gave it to me. I've kept this secret for him long enough."

Harry's heart leapt in joy. "Do you still have it?"

She frowned. "I'm afraid not."

Deflated, Harry was about to ask what had happened to it, when Ron spoke. "When did he give it to you?"

"The day he was caught by the Aurors..." Hermione looked back sadly. "He was desperate to get rid of it. He told me to leave the country or Voldemort would be after us. I—I put alarm charms on my house which alerted the Aurors straight away. I feel so guilty about it..."

"You were protecting yourself," Ron said. "Don't feel bad."

"What does it look like?" Harry asked.

"Black, shrivelled and sharp, it looks like something that's been mummified." Hermione blinked. "He gave me the object tightly wrapped up in dragon leather. He wanted me to get rid of it and make sure I'd hide the trail. I have never seen him look so frightened. Charlie never mentioned about the Stitch in any of his letters to me."

"Did you ask Harry why he killed Charlie?"

She took a moment to respond and Harry saw tears in her eyes. "Yes…" Then she chocked back a sob.

Whatever secret she held, he knew it was tearing her apart. "What happened?"

"Right after the Aurors arrived, Harry held me at wandpoint and barricaded us in our neighbour's shed. I was frightened. I thought he was going to kill me until he started telling me everything that had happened to him. He kept saying he was so sorry for everything. That it was his fault. I urged him to tell me the truth… that I still cared for him… And then…"

"What?" Harry and Ron gasped.

"I don't know what to do…" She covered her eyes, sniffling "I promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone, even you, Ron."

"What are you talking about?" Ron questioned.

She looked up, blinking her tears away. "Now that the old Ministry and Azkaban are gone, I think it's safe to tell the truth. But you mustn't tell the senior members of the Order or anyone who works for the Ministry!" She bit her lip, contemplating her words.

"Why?"

"Because Voldemort will be alerted to it."

"You mean, like a Taboo?" Harry figured.

She nodded. But he was on the verge of an important discovery and didn't care about protecting the secret. "Hermione, I'm here to help Harry. Will this help him?"

She nodded. "It will help clear his name, somewhat. At least what had happened after his conditioning."

Harry understood. "Who really killed Charlie?"

Hermione sobbed and covered her face again.

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them. He was clearly confused. "Can someone please tell me what the hell—?"

"Jessica killed Charlie. Harry had to protect her. He didn't want her to go through the blame and Azkaban. He wanted everyone to think it was him."

Jessica…

Ron sat there lost for words, but Harry just felt as though a whole of lot tension and frustration drifted away.

"He was so scared for her. And he wanted her away from Voldemort's clutches. I'm not sure of the circumstances of the murder, but all I know that is was Jessica who did it, not Harry."

"Was she Imperioused?"

"He thought she was…though so subtle that no one noticed. Harry thought Voldemort had gotten to her somehow. You need to speak to him about it. Because he says the curse on her eyes was Voldemort's fault."

"If she was Imperioused, than why keep this secret? Jessica is innocent of all this—"

"No…" Ron frowned.

"I don't understand, she's innocent," Harry implored.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "You see Harry, in this world, being under the influence of the Imperious Curse doesn't protect you from Azkaban. Because, in the old Ministry's regime, if you were truly against Voldemort, you would've had the will to able to fight the curse off. And if you didn't, well that meant you were really on Voldemort's side."

"That's ridiculous!" Harry stated. "Most people can't fight it."

"Our Ministry had been warped in paranoia and corruption for a long time, Harry. Laws changed, lives destroyed, freedoms taken away. A lot of people in Azkaban were put there because of the Imperious Curse. A few of them were in The Black Square."

Harry fell back, shaking his head at all the injustices in this world.

"Plus the Taboo, Harry couldn't even say anything to his parents. He couldn't say anything to the people that meant the most to him, and he said it was breaking him. I had never seen him so lost in all my life. Voldemort was manipulating him so much. He'd tell him to do one thing, then when Harry took too long—"

"So Voldemort punished him by using Jessica. He was frightened she'd end up being conditioned the way he was," Harry said.

"He did all he could to protect her, and he still failed her." Hermione bit her lip. "Voldemort wanted Harry's utter most loyalty. Because in the end, he is a Horcrux, and Voldemort knew he was playing with fire."

"He told you everything that day didn't he?"

"Everything. You have no idea how much I've wanted to tell someone the truth." Hermione sobbed. "All these twisted games… I think Voldemort broke him physically and worse, but in his heart, Harry was—"

"Still defiant. Even if death had been the ultimate option," Harry said. "But, despite the Horcrux possessing him, Harry was manipulating Voldemort too."

"I know," she whispered.

There were a few moments of silence.

"R-Ron?" Hermione trembled. He had gone very quiet.

"I can't believe you never told anyone!" Ron spluttered, angrily.

"Please don't be mad at me. He couldn't tell the people who mattered most. You had broken off all contact with him. So did I, but I—he knew I had never really had given up on him."

"So you're saying, because I didn't speak to him—?"

"I promised him. I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone until he was ready." Hermione cried.

"I think he's ready now." Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Mate, Hermione didn't keep the secret to hurt you."

"I just wish you told me," Ron mumbled. Harry backed off seeing the boy's face redden up like a beetroot.

"You wouldn't have believed him anyway. You would've told me to forget about him, that he was spinning a web of lies."

"I s'pose so…" he muttered.

Hermione nodded. "Harry is a high ranking Death Eater, and Jessica used his wand to kill Charlie. Even though the spell echoes regurgitated from his wand was obscured, they still recognised that the last murder victim was Charlie, judging by build and height. Who is everyone going to believe, the words of a Death Eater or a little girl? Think about it."

"Hermione, what happened next?" Harry pressed on.

"I urged him to go, before the Aurors got through the shed. He made me promise that I wouldn't tell or he'd find me…"

"Hermione do you honestly believe Harry would've hurt you?' Harry asked.

Tears rolled down her cheeks again. "No. He hugged me so tight. He didn't let go, even when the Aurors stunned him."

Harry let out a low whistle. "What did you do with the Stitch?"

She wiped her tears away. "I went to France, before leaving for Australia. I gave it to Luna"

Harry and Ron looked at each other suddenly excited.

"I don't know if she still has it. You'll need to contact her now."

"Knowing you," Harry smiled, "you would've researched about the Stitch. Do you—?"

But the living room door opened. Hermione vanished with a sizzle of smoke and Ron stood up.

Harry thought Remus had come down for a glass of water and decided to check in. For a moment, he almost thought it was a long lost Weasley, until he realised the boy looked like James Potter.

"Michael?' Ron gasped, jumping in front of Harry.

"Yeah," he said smoothly, trying to see who was behind Ron. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Er, just helping Remus."

"I never knew you had spattergroit—"

"What?"

"Who's that behind you?"

Ron couldn't protect him for much longer. While Harry could change his features and hair colour, it still took a few minutes to accomplish. Harry stepped away from Ron's protection and faced his Mirror brother.

The effect was instantaneous. Michael backed away, eyes as big as saucers. There was a moment of terror, before defiance and hate washed over.

He whipped out his wand, and so did Harry.

"Oh shit!" Ron jumped out of the way. "Michael, don't do anything stupid!"

"Why are you here, Harry?"

"He's not who you think he is."

"Bollocks, Ron!" Michael yelled, loud enough for everyone else in the house to hear. The charms had been broken when the living room door was opened.

Harry pocketed his wand. But the boy was still armed. "Please put the wand down."

"Do you think I'm dumb? You're a Mage. You just wave your fingers around and shit happens."

Harry took a step forward, but the boy seized the moment.

"Stupefy!"

Harry deflected the curse in the blink of the eye. The red spell hit the light, bounced off and cracked a portrait on the wall. Everyone ducked.

Michael flicked his wand over his shoulder locking the door, as they heard footsteps bound down the stairs.

"Michael—Michael—open the door!" The door rattled. "STOP THIS!" Remus growled. Harry heard him yelling, Alohomora, to no effect.

But the boy smirked. "I knew you didn't have spattergroit," he yelled. "I almost believed it. I thought something was going on, but this? Why is Harry here?"

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," Harry said, still crouched down on the floor.

"What's going on here? I just want to know the truth." He turned his attention on Harry.

"The truth is that I'm not your brother. I'm a Mirror from a different world." He bravely walked forward. He noticed the boy's wand trembling.

"That's a lie," he whispered as Harry closed the gap.

There were tears in his eyes. "You destroyed our family."

"I'm sorry that happened, but that wasn't me."

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Remus was trying to break down the door down. "MICHAEL!"

He could see the boy faltering, his jaw tensing. Harry could almost take the wand out of his hand. He almost touched it. "Put the wand down."

The boy was distracted, clearly lost. Harry saw Ron lift his wand from the corner of his eye, but it was too late to stop him.

Next moment, Harry felt something punch his stomach and he hit the ground.

(******)

When Harry woke up, he was on the couch. His stomach was a little sore and he gave it a rub. He looked around. Remus, Ron or Michael were nowhere in sight. The fire crackled in the silence, but where the cabinet usually was, there was a mirror, shining bright.

"Show it to me!" he commanded.

All thoughts about Michael cursing him and the chaos in the living room were in the back of his mind.

The mirror rippled after a moment, but Harry saw no glimpse of a memory.

"Harry, Hermione told us everything. I won't tell your family or Dumbledore for now. But we just need to know what happened. You need closure and peace, just as much as we do."

The mirror rippled again and a scene emerged.

Harry took a deep breath and plunged within it. He was suddenly transported into the Potter's house.

Mirror Harry trudged up the stairs. Harry followed, heart thumping and they walked past Jessica's bedroom.

"And then you said it will be aaaaaalllll right…." Jessica spoke. She tried to feed her doll tea as she was played. "Harry!" Jessica said happily.

Her bright green eyes, showed no hint to the Imperious Curse, but then her pupils instantly widened, seeing her brother. They dilated so fast and so big, that they almost covered her green irises. Harry held his breath.

"Hello, Newt," her brother replied, when the little girl wrapped her arms about him.

"I thought you went on a mission again." She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her eyes were back to normal.

Mirror Harry stroked her black hair. "Not so soon, I just arrived yesterday-Hey, I got you some chocolate frogs. They're in the kitchen." The little girl smiled and skipped off to get her sweet.

Then he entered his bedroom.

Charlie sat at his desk reading a book, scribbling notes on parchment. "Hey Harry," he said, without looking up.

The Mirror jerked his head in response and flopped onto his bed, resting there like a limp doll.

Charlie turned around. "Would you… er… mind helping me with my Defence essay? I want to get it finished soon. I can't believe its due on my birthday! You'd think Remus would lay off a bit."

This is it! Harry thought. He hoped this time the memory hadn't been tampered with. So far it looked good.

"That's a bit harsh of him. Yeah all right, I'll have a look at it while I'm on the roof."

"Thanks—the roof, again? You haven't been out there in ages."

"That's because I broke my leg last time and Mum found out what I was up too." He sat up. "I used to like sitting out there though... it helps to clear my mind."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, I'm fine," the Mirror exasperated. "I…"

Charlie scraped his chair back. "You want out, don't you?"

He nodded. "It would be nice to do nothing for a while."

"What were you doing this time around, anyway? Dumbledore kept asking if I'd heard from you."

"What did you tell him?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing Harry. I'm good at Occlumency now."

"I was instructed to bring back all the Horcruxes the Dark Lord made after my…"

Charlie frowned. "You were conditioned weren't you?" He shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm so sorry—"

"I don't need your pity."

His younger brother bit his lip, it was clear to Harry that he still wanted to talk about it. "Who was involved?"

"You never give up, do you?" The Mirror was breathing fast "Thirteen of them..."

"Thirteen? That's unprecedented!"

"I was a very bad boy."

"Was it the Notorious Thirteen? God, you're lucky to be alive!"

He looked away, a twitch appearing in his cheek. "Look, do you want to hear what I was doing or not?"

"Of—of course."

He took a deep breath, calming himself. "It took me a few months to gather the Horcruxes. You should've seen some of the traps he placed around them. He said that since I had searched to destroy them in the first place, I now had to search for the Horcruxes and save them. Funny, isn't he? He couldn't stop laughing at the irony."

"Couldn't you have destroyed them?"

"I didn't have a choice. He said he'd order the Death Eaters to kill the Muggle-borns they've captured. The Dark Lord's gathering them to Hogwarts as we speak."

"Where did you put the Horcruxes?"

"They're all at Hogwarts now, until he figures out a way to get his power back. I hope he won't, anytime soon, because you've hidden that Stitch. I need to figure out how to kill him."

Charlie's hands gripped the back of his desk chair. "Ha—Harry, will he keep you prisoner?"

He looked up at his brother. "Maybe one day. Anyway, enough about me and give me that essay."Then the Mirror froze, anger showing on his face. "You never got rid of the Stitch did you?"

Charlie handed him the parchment and a pen, frightened. His hands were shaking.

He snatched the parchment. "What happened when I told you to get rid of it for the hundredth time?"

"I-I tried to, but they gave it back to me—"

"They?"

"Borgin and Burke's—"

Mirror Harry gaped back in shock. "They gave it back to you?"

"I'm serious!"

"When I said get rid of it, I didn't mean sell it to a bunch of Dark crooks. I wanted you to hide it somewhere, in a place Voldemort would never find."

"Harry I tried. I'm not powerful like you. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry."

"You're the smartest idiot I know," he said, infuriated.

"I know I'm in danger. I rarely leave the house anymore. The last two times I did was to try and get rid of the Stitch when you told me to," Charlie blabbered. "If we had the resources and freedom to seek information, we would know what this thing does by now!"

"And you still would've failed to realise the deep shit we're in." He glared at his brother. "Give it to me. I'll have to hide it."

Charlie looked torn. "Do you have to?" he whispered. "I've touched the Stitch a few more times, and it still hasn't harmed me… I just hear whispers. It's so weird! And then there's this one, evasive voice—"

"I don't care! I'm getting rid of it, end of story! Where's it hidden?"

"Here." Charlie undid a few charms in mattress and pulled out a tightly wrapped object in leather, then put it on his desk.

The Mirror hesitated.

"Just check my essay and then hide it. It's been here over a year, so what could possibly happen in a few minutes?"

Mirror Harry nodded, and climbed out the window and perched himself on the roof, staring at the crescent moon shining through the mist. Harry followed him. The Mirror fell back against the slate tiles, closing his eyes for a few minutes, until there was a flapping of wings.

Two owls sat by his Mirror, nibbling at his fingers. He looked about, before deciding to peruse the letters they were delivering.

One was from Dumbledore.

How is Harry?

Instead of placing the letter back on the owl's leg, to be delivered to his parents, the Mirror scrunched it up and threw it over his shoulder.

He sat there for twenty minutes looking over the essay, correcting mistakes. He could feel the chill of the wind. But Harry knew his mind was elsewhere.

"No!" someone said adamantly. "I won't let you! HAR—!"

A flash of green light burst out of the window. The Mirror froze.

They heard Lily's voice travel up the floorboards. "KEEP IT DOWN. DON'T MAKE ME COME UP!"

Mirror Harry forgot about the essay, letting it be blown away, and climbed his way down the roof.

Harry felt his fear and worry as he followed him. Then he gasped.

The Mirror eyes widened. "What—?"

Jessica had Mirror Harry's wand outstretched and Charlie Potter was slumped over the edge of his bed, very still. He looked as though he was heading to the window. The Mirror checked his jeans pocket and realised the girl had stolen his wand.

"Jess…" He was winded, in shock, as he outstretched his hands in submission. The little girl turned slowly, pointing the wand into his face.

She blinked slowly, smiling. "Hello, Harry." In her other hand, she held onto the unwrapped Obsidian Stitch.

"Oh," he said, panicking. "Jess what have you done?" He moved forward carefully, but the girl lifted the wand higher.

"She wants the dagger. She said I had to do anything to save it killing us all and thousands of others, and if Charlie tried to run off, I had to kill him."

"She?" Confusion flitted across the Mirror's face. "Jessica, give me back my wand."

"But it isn't yours to keep, Harry. It belongs to the Dark Lord."

"How—? Oh my god."

Then she looked at their dead brother. "He was about to escape with the Stitch. I couldn't let him escape."

"Jess," Mirror Harry said anxiously, "Pass me my wand, please. No one will hurt you. He's Imperioused you."

The little girl blinked. "No I wasn't."

"You wouldn't know how to kill…" Mirror Harry outstretched his hand, and the wand shot out of her grip. The girl stood, unfazed. He strode over, holding his wand against his sister while he checked over Charlie. Harry could see the boy's hazel eyes were wide and lifeless. The Mirror's eyes widened with shock and despair.

He chocked back a sob, and then focused on his sister again. "Give me the Stitch." He covered his hand with the leather wrap.

"That's not my order," was her reply. She blinked.

He pried the object out of her hands, using the leather as a barrier and shoved it in his pocket. He pulled the girl towards the bed, sitting her down. He touched her forehead gently as he stared into her pale face.

"Jess, look into my eyes." The girl obeyed. The Mirror searched her eyes. "I can't see… What has he done?"

"What's wrong, Harry?" she said. "You look so sad."

The Mirror was breathing hard. He then clapped a hand over his mouth, thinking. "It's all right… You're going to be okay."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"He's used a modified Imperious Curse."

"I haven't been Imperioused," she whispered.

"Jess..." He sighed deeply at a loss. "I'm going to go now... But I'm-I'm going to try and help you before I do.

"Why do you have to go?"

He turned his slightly to his dead brother's body. "Because I've done something very bad, do you understand?"

"But-"

"Be a good girl for me, Jess. Be good for Mum and Dad and… keep out of trouble. Promise?"

She nodded slowly. "I promise."

"Close your eyes... If this doesn't work, I'll come back for you. I'll make it better." The girl nodded and did as he asked. The Mirror Harry placed his thumbs gently over them. "Finite Incantatem…"

But lifting the Imperious Curse didn't work. Instead, Jessica screamed in pain. She fell back writhing, her legs kicking, hands covering her eyes.

Mirror Harry sprung back in shock.

"ARGGGGGHHHHHH! DADDDDDYYYYYY!"

"JESSICA," James roared. The door flung off its hinges and James, Remus and Sirius stood at the doorway.

Mirror Harry gasped and Disapparated from his bedroom.

The memory turned black. Harry stepped out of the mirror and found his Mirror waiting for him.

"Thank you for showing me," Harry said gently.

"I feel so free now."

"I bet you do, but do you have any idea how Voldemort got to her?"

"I think it was at the picnic, when Jessica got lost. No one could tell she had been Imperioused as it was an advanced variant. Voldemort had created it years before and he and the Seniors use it very sparingly, I didn't know the telltale signs until recently."

"The rapid dilation of a person's pupils before returning to normal?"

"You've picked it up faster than me, well done!" He snorted. "While your Voldemort was busy trying to be reborn, our Voldemort was creating spells and advancing his power. He had hired many wizards and witches who had a talent for creating new magic."

"What happened to her eyes?"

"He knew I'd lift the Imperious Curse off her at some point, so he placed a curse on her eyes which activated when I tried to remove it. He didn't expect her to almost succeed taking the Stitch. Charlie was—if he had willingly given it up, he would still be alive." He sighed. "Voldemort thought I would've realised sooner, that I, in the end had no choice but to give the Stitch to him and beg him to spare Jessica's suffering."

"Is she still Imperioused?"

"Sort of. She's in a sort of in-between world. She is neither there, nor here, if you know what I mean."

"How will it be removed then?"

"I think, once Voldemort dies, she'll be all right... but I haven't stopped thinking of other ways of helping her."

"When you escaped from Azkaban, were you going to kidnap her?"

The Mirror chuckled darkly. "I wanted to test out how much control Voldemort had over her, and controlling her that day you were in the basement confirmed my fears. I was waiting to take her, yes. Help her and eventually train her with the Pettigrew kids. If I didn't do something, I knew she would eventually be forced to murder the whole family as my punishment for defecting... but I would've been able to subdue her, control her if I had her. And then, of course, you showed up. My plan then involved you, and it was going smoothly until Grindelwald got in the way."

"Did you control her by using the Horcrux within you?"

"Yes."

Harry absent-mindedly touched the grooves of his lightning bolt scar. "What are the other Horcruxes?"

Mirror Harry paced the living room. "The cup, me, the Sorting Hat… then there's the skull of his Muggle father, Salazar Slytherin's book on Purebloods. He also made the very first galleon ever made, which had belonged to Lord Cyneric Peverell, into a Horcrux, and a Celtic bracelet made of jet, thought to have been worn by Merlin.

"The Locket?'

"That was destroyed by Draco."

Harry rubbed his aching head. "How are you going to destroy them?"

"Much easier now that I'm at Hogwarts," the Mirror said with a smirk. Then he vanished.

Harry slumped against the couch and woke up to find Agnes Cotter above him, and Ron and Remus's faces swimming over him.

He shot upright, eyeing Ron silently; he really needed to tell him what he found out. But cotter was having none of that.

"Lie back." She forcefully pushed him back down on the couch. "You've had point blank stunner to your abdomen. You're fine, but just relax for a few minutes."

His muscles were sore and felt dizzy. "Michael?" he gasped.

The boy was with Lily and Dumbledore stood calmly next to them. Lily looked angry and terrified, but Michael still looked unsure of the situation.

"How long was I out of it?" Harry groaned, blinking up at the ceiling because he didn't want to see their worried faces.

"An hour." Cotter handed him a glass of water.

Lily pushed Michael towards the couch. The boy looked back hesitantly, but he approached, slowly kneeling by Harry's side. "Dumbledore and Mum said—"

"She's not my Mum," Harry whispered.

"Ah, yeah, they told me everything. I'm—" He looked back to his mother as he ran a hand through his hair. "ImmasosorryIwaztupid." He took a deep breath before trying again. "I'm so sorry. I thought…"

"Michael, honestly, I would've reacted much the same way. But I'm impressed," he massaged his stomach. "Your spell kicked a punch."

The boy chuckled lightly. He looked back towards his mother.

Lily was staring daggers at them. "I've had it up to my eyeballs with these teenagers today!"

34. A Different Sort of Hunt

A Different Sort of Hunt

A memory rippled as Harry touched the mirror. It was a dark room, with only one dim floating candle behind his ashen reflection.

Cell number 13.

Harry steadied his breath. Without looking back, he ran through, stopping an inch from the wall with the graffiti written in blood.

The Stitch… Find the Stitch… A Stitch in time saves nine…

He traced the letters with a finger, piecing together information he knew about it. Ron had tried to contact Hermione to no avail and they had had trouble finding Luna. There was urgency now to find the stitch, since the Gringotts takeover a week ago.

Then he heard footsteps outside the cell and Harry backed himself into a corner, waiting for Brodes to enter. As the door opened, Harry's attention darted quickly to the sunken cot where he found his Mirror wide awake and slowly rising.

Unlike Harry who would've protected himself with whatever miserable, broken bit of furniture he could find, the Mirror was quiet and too calm for Harry's comfort as he stood against the wall.

Harry expected to see the Atoners, but it was Dumbledore who had entered. The Mirror relaxed, letting out a deep breath.

"Good evening, Harry." Dumbledore looked around the cell. "I apologise if I woke you."

"I never sleep. No one sleeps here. Why did you come?" He crossed his arms. "I see you're not using your cane anymore."

Dumbledore sat on the edge of the cot. "I have physically recovered, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's ever insistent ministrations."

The Mirror paced the cell, eyeing his old mentor warily.

"We need to talk."

"Really? What day is this? We don't have the luxury of windows and there are no clocks, no calendars here."

"It is May the second."

The Mirror nodded darkly. "I've been in here months, but you've come now to talk?"

Harry sensed the anger growing in the boy. He could almost feel Voldemort's soul stirring within him.

The Mirror leaned against the wall, staring down at the wizard. "And what, precisely, would you like to chat about?"

"Christopher was almost abducted by Death Eaters stationed in Godric's Hollow. Death Eaters who have been there since you murdered your brother."

There was no surprise, no hint of concern, just cold indifference. "What happened after the death and I vanished from my house?"

"The Aurors were alerted to a murder. They broke through the magic protecting the house, as the laws of the Ministry dictate." Dumbledore frowned. "Not even something as sacred as the Fidelius Charm is revered anymore."

"As long as Scrimgeour dies with the secret of the spell, you'll be safe from my master… But you have to admit, this war is producing powerful new spells."

"True, some were created by you." Dumbledore bowed slightly.

"Likewise, so have you."

"However," he continued, "the Ministry cannot vanquish the Fidelius Charm as you know, so the Aurors could not re-enter at a later date. But they took the opportunity to interrogate your family about Charlie's murder… and much more distastefully, even about the Order…" Dumbledore sighed. "I was surprised you didn't execute the Morsmorde sign."

"I didn't have time," Mirror Harry chuckled. "But it's a shame they didn't kill Chris like the Death Eaters were supposed to. He'd be next, then Michael, then Jess and hopefully my parents will be made to watch!"

"Why Harry?" Dumbledore's brow crinkled. "They've done nothing but love you."

There was a smirk playing on the boy's lips that sent a chill through Harry's bones.

"Why must you kill them all?"

"Power. I relish in the power I have. I have the power to dictate the preservation of our purity, of life or death. You once had it, back in the day you and Grindelwald terrorised Muggles—"

"I did not!" Dumbledore rose, furious.

The boy laughed callously. "Don't act like you're above me. I know your past. You trained me. You once said I could be more powerful than you and now I am."

"It was my mistake—my past. You…" The old wizard looked away. "If you must kill, kill me."

"It's too late for that now." The cold amusement in Mirror's laughter reminded Harry of Voldemort. "You should've died a long time ago."

"You have torn my soul, Harry," Dumbledore whispered with a shake of his head.

"And that's the reason I don't bother killing you. That's your punishment."

"Why? Tell me now what have I done to you?"

The boy hesitated before he sat down on the bed next to his once trusted mentor. There was no cruel smile, no menace in his eyes now. His sunken green eyes showed nothing but misery and the encroaching rot of death.

Harry was sure Voldemort's soul had been pushed back now.

"'I will be with you every step of the way,' you said. "You'll never be alone.'" He licked his parched lips. "I believed in you. I did what you asked me to do, but you still betrayed me!"

"Do not fool yourself, Harry. I tried to help you. You lost yourself—"

"I never lost the fight to end the war!"

"I am so sorry if you feel that you could've—"

"What hurt most, is that in the end you never trusted me."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "You would've turned into a Dark Lord if your power had progressed."

"You see, there it is again: your doubt."

Then Harry saw it, in the flickering light of the lonesome candle, the tear trailing down the boy's cheek.

"I trusted you, I had high hopes for you, but I always had that doubt knowing how devastating becoming a Mage could be," Dumbledore replied sadly.

"Yeah, I was infatuated with my growing power, my evil thoughts and fantasies… I even had this stupid idea of taking over… You should've seen through that! You should've stuck by me!"

"But Harry, I once thought the same with Grindelwald. I was so… infatuated as well, until I realised what we were doing. He almost destroyed our way of life. I don't want to make that same mistake again."

His Mirror sneered. The Horcrux had taken over again. "And it would've been a better world if you had never intervened."

Dumbledore moved away, he started to pace the small room, cocking his head at the strange graffiti he was trying to decipher. "I request something from you, Harry, before I leave. I would like the memory of my defeat."

"I wasn't there," the Mirror said dryly.

"I think you are lying."

The Mirror shrugged. "Maybe… but I will tell you what I was doing that night. I was trying to destroy the locket."

"Then, will you give me that memory?"

"No—get out of my cell!'

The memory vanished. His Mirror was waiting as he stepped out of the mirror.

"You've entered the Light phase."

Harry nodded. "Have you?"

"Not yet, soon. Funny though, that I've been stuck in it for years and you've got through it within a month."

"Well, I haven't been gallivanting around the countryside torturing and kidnapping people," Harry retorted.

"It's not just that. I began the Dark phase the start of fourth year. Third year was all about learning the theories and the rituals of the Mágos, learning spells and charms beyond my level, and—"

"About Voldemort."

"Yeah, but it was hard, it was hard to learn. Yet, for you it's easy." The Mirror just stared.

"You've said once before we'd be creating equilibrium between ourselves. It was easier for me maybe, because maybe, my body thinks it's you, and you've been ready for ages to get through this phase," Harry answered.

"True, but I haven't gotten anything of benefit from you."

"Yes you have. You're like me now."

The Mirror laughed. "A fucked up version of you."

Harry nodded. "Remus is helping me through the Caro level now."

"How's that going?"

"I like the fact I have control over my power now, and it's so much easier to use it. I like healing without spells."

The Mirror cocked his head, thinking. "Out of all the phases, why pick the Green phase?"

"After everything I've been through, I'd like to heal injuries quickly and help the people I care about back home."

"Why not the Immolatio level? I think that's the one you'd need the most to beat Voldemort, especially since you have his soul within you."

"My gut was telling me not to invoke the Red phase." Harry shrugged. "But who knows, maybe I will when I get back home."

"Whenever Dumbledore decides to let you go."

"True. So, tell me, why that memory?"

"I want Dumbledore to reveal what he remembers. It's about time he fesses up to what he's done."

The Mirror vanished in silver smoke.

(******)

If it wasn't for the Healers and the Patil twins, Severus thought he was going to suffer a horrible death. He woke up screaming a times, sometimes terrorising a Healer, before collapsing back into a fitful sleep. He'd have nightmares of nameless faces of the Conditioned, with their eyes gouged out, pinning him down and attacking him.

They had pulled out the spear in his thigh and had repaired the damage, but the goblin poison that tipped the spear meant a slow agonising infection in his limb, with the threat of septicaemia and gangrene hanging in the darkness.

That was a week ago. Now he sat up in bed, eating and making some improvements.

He observed his surroundings in the light and airy Hospital Wing. It was filled with injured Death Eaters, being cared for by chained St Mungo's Healers. The all had heavy iron collars around their necks. One step out of Hogwarts and the guards would be notified. The only way those collars can be removed, would be with the blood of the Death Eater responsible for putting them on.

Severus shifted his weight on his good leg and stood up, hissing in pain. A Healer approached warily, about to protest. However, the imprisoned Healers knew better than to challenge the authority of their captors. If he wanted to leave, he'd leave without their pestering.

"Pass me my clothes," Severus said, looking about.

"Your clothes were damaged, Snape." The young Healer practically spat out his name.

He stared into the medic's face, at all his loathing, wondering if he had taught the wizard at some point. He looked familiar. Perhaps he was a Gryffindor.

"We don't have 'em—"

"I don't care!" he snapped. "Find some."

There were a fair few Death Eaters injured from Gringotts. Goblin magic was a dangerous thing to behold. He looked around at the injured, tucked in their beds. Pathetic, Severus thought, I shouldn't be here.

Minutes later, the Healer urged Miles forward.

Severus had trained her well, he thought guiltily. Even though she had completed her training two years ago, she was like a loyal dog following him, always obeying him. She knew all his little nuances and was ready to be there at his command.

"Mentor," she said softly. "You should rest."

She stared at his bandaged leg, as she handed him a new pair of black trousers, and a white collared undergarment. She placed his robes on the bed, and boots near his feet, like a faithful servant.

Severus sat down on the edge of his bed. "I don't need your help getting dressed. However, I would appreciate crutches to help me walk. Go."

Then he grabbed her wrist before she left. Her eyes widened, showing a rare hint of surprise.

"Is Potter here?" he whispered, letting his grip relax.

Miles checked over her shoulders. "Bellatrix ordered it."

"He's in the dungeons and the spells around the room will restrain his magic. We've taken off the remainder of the Mirage Charms before you left; mostly nothing but scars now. Pritchard is dead anyway and no one will notice the differences..."

Severus played with his chin, deep in thought. He would need to see the boy.

"Bella put a collar around his neck like a common Muggle-born—"

"What?" He recoiled at the news. "He's now a prisoner?"

"But!" Her hand plunged down her neckline and pulled out a small, velvet pouch. She unstrung it and picked out a vial filled with blood, holding it against her chest. "Remember when Harry absorbed her power, leaving her unconscious?"

Severus curled his lip, mildly impressed. "If she had woken up—"

"She didn't," Emily interjected. "The others have done the same throughout the years." She quickly hid the vial. "I also have blood from all The Black Square Death Eaters, and now some of yours."

"What have you been planning, Miles?" There were things he didn't know about this rebellious group of the Conditioned and it was making him nervous.

"Me? No, it's no plan of mine. But don't worry about it."

"Not worry? I'm your Mentor, Miles. If anything goes wrong, I will pay for it also. Are all the Conditioned present?"

Emily nodded, and then, checking over her shoulders again, whispered, "While you were ill, nine Death Eaters had been interrogated by the Dark Lord about the Ministry attack."

He stopped buttoning his shirt. Severus had wondered what else Xanthe Payton had divulged to the Dark Lord. Rescuing hundreds of Ministry workers was never going to be kept secret for long. Xanthe had once worked at the Ministry, so naturally she would've recognised a few, and therefore questioned how they had escaped.

"They were confessions under torture and many implicated others out of fear."

"But… only nine?"

"Yes. They've since been executed by the Muggle-borns…"

It was a gruesome end. No magic was used, but the Muggle-borns were allowed Muggle means and weapons to kill the victim. Many of them took up the opportunity to vent their frustrations at their captors, and the Death Eaters enjoyed the entertainment. Others to be only punished would be plucked from the arena before they were ripped a part.

"Lucky there was no viable Veritiserum in stock here. Were any of the executed ours?"

Emily shook her head, passing him his boots. "Sir, are we reaching the apex of this war?" she whispered, as three Death Eaters strolled past with a bunch of flowers for a patient. "Shall I gather our friends?"

"Wait. Wait until Potter wakes—"

"If Harry doesn't, should we talk to the other?"

"No. That boy is not to be disturbed."

"But he could help us. People will listen to him. If you let me tell Draco, he would think the same—"

"No, Miles. That is an order! Just wait."

Her eyes flashed, now revealing anger. It was quite unusual for the girl to show any sort of emotion on her stony, plain face. Severus pulled her in closer and hissed, "You've always been quite stubborn—"

"Well," she hissed back with a huff, "maybe you should have snuffed it out of me—broken me like some other Mentors do to their captives!"

"How dare you!" he seethed through gritted teeth, gripping her wrist tightly, his nails digging into her skin. "I protected you!"

"Well, what do we have here?" Lucius Malfoy drawled, shoving the white screen back. He looked at Miles with a hint of interest.

Severus let go of her wrist, suddenly noticing how close he was to the girl. He concentrated on slipping on his black robes.

The girl bowed lightly before him, as though he was a lord.

Lucius leered, and then threw Severus a scroll. "You are to meet our master as soon as possible. Bring Miles with you," he said. He then left them alone.

The girl tensed. Severus knew something was not right. But he would do as he was instructed. He yanked her forcefully close to his face, that so his lips were near her ear. He repeated his last instruction to make sure his words penetrated the stupid girl's brain.

"Wait! Now, get me crutches."

He struggled to walk. The scroll said he had to meet the Dark Lord in one of the chambers in the dungeons. Not a good sign. His leg pained him greatly and he could feel a fever brewing again. He stalled, not sure whether he wanted to walk down the stairs. Miles hung back in the darkness, waiting.

It had to be done. Severus had to face whatever fate awaited him.

"Mentor, we need to go."

Severus put up his hand. "It's not easy, Miles, to encounter the possibility of death."

"But—"

"Enough! Give me a moment." To gather my courage, he wanted to say. Damn those Gryffindors. He could use a bit of their traits right now.

He closed his eyes, and swayed on his feet, his underarm aching from the placement of the crutch. He inhaled deeply, and courageously went through the corridor and down into the depths of the castle. It became colder further down he went, and then the fear crept in.

He could hear the screams and the cries. He could feel the prisoners' misery.

Severus stopped in front of a large oak door, guarded by two Death Eaters. The hooded guards bowed and opened it. Within, the Dark Lord sat in an ornate chair, as though it was his throne.

The Dark Lord tapped his long white fingers on the arms. "You've brought Emily Miles with you. Good," he hissed. "Girl, come here."

Emily hesitated, but Severus pushed her forward. She made small steps towards her master, her chin held high in confidence. Then she bowed.

Don't show your fear. "My Lord..." Severus bowed, feverish again.

"I have an idea," the Dark Lord said coolly, as he stared at the plain girl. "Since it will be difficult for you to find Jessica Potter, because of your history with the family, I will have Ms Miles return back into her Healer mother's arms. She will worm her way into the Potter's trust and she will bring the child to me. I want the Potter girl in days."

Miles paled considerably. All Severus thought was, poor, stupid girl.

"What a wonderful idea, my Lord." He bowed again with gratitude, but thinking ways to escape this new situation. "But, if I may speak, Miles should be watching over Potter—"

"The boy is here." The Dark Lord waved to the room adjoining the chamber they were in.

Severus stalked forward slowly. The Dark Lord's petrifying red eyes were forever watching, calculating. He opened the door and saw Potter sleeping in bed, though as Miles had explained earlier, an iron collar was fastened around his neck.

The Dark Lord spoke, inches behind Severus, his voice high and cold. "I know you are thinking that he is my very special prisoner, but the truth is, he is my possession. He will be guarded and his power restrained."

Possession? "What will happen when he wakes up?"

"He will stay here for safekeeping."

"Master, what shall I do in the meantime?'

"You, Severus, will indeed be my prisoner."

The Death Eaters that had showed him in had now flanked his sides. "My Lord?" Severus asked calmly, his panic rising.

"Your wand, please," his master demanded.

The Death Eaters rummaged through his robes, before Severus had the chance to take it out. Death Eater to the right found it first.

"If Miles brings me the girl, you won't die."

"My Lord—?"

"Severus, I am very disappointed with you. You've taken far too long."

He expected to be thrown into a dungeon, but in a daze, he found himself in Potter's chamber, scowling. The door shut and locks clicked into place.

In a few short strides, Severus towered over Potter.

"Potter…" He shook the boy's shoulder. He was too cold, almost like a corpse. "I think it's time to wake up. We're in danger."

The boy's eyes twitched and his pale mouth opened, but there was otherwise no sign of movement. He shoved the duvet over Potter's shoulders, and fell back against the side of the bed and just sat there, preparing himself for a potentially gruesome fate.

(******)

Ron hadn't been in a talkative mood for days. "I wish we could tell someone," he said, slamming a fist on his bed that night.

"It's Taboo," Harry replied. He fell into his armchair after a hot shower, exhausted after a hard training session with Remus. They had practising with a few duels for an hour and before leaving the yard, they found an injured bird. Harry was able to exercise his Mage power to heal it. He even told Remus not to bother calling Cotter in, wanting to test his magic on himself. He hoped to one day be proficient enough to heal his own cursed injuries.

"We can't let him be scapegoat. He's so alone now."

"He's not alone. He's got us." He dried his wet hair and pulled on his pyjamas.

"If you think that slimy prat, Malfoy, gives a stuff about Harry, you're wrong!" Ron said, his ears turning pink.

But from all he's seen, it looked like his Mirror and Malfoy were very good friends. Harry still had many reservations about Malfoy, but in this world he seemed alright.

"I—he won't forgive me, for giving up on him."

"Ron, he wanted to break ties with you for a reason. He knows you miss him." He placed the towel on top of his armchair, and then picked a copy of a Wizards Wand magazine that lay on his bed stand.

Harry looked at the cover, with a pretty witch dressed as an Auror. She placed her high heeled booted leg on a chair. He watched her shift her robes, revealing her thigh, splaying it suggestively. She pulled her wand from her boot, gave it a twirl, and winked at him. "Here, you can have this back." He threw the magazine onto Ron's bed.

Ron picked it up and stared at it, before flicking through the pages. "None of the girls are helping yet?" He showed Harry its centrefold of a naked witch, the same witch on the cover.

"A little… thanks," he responded, choosing the gaze out the window into the misty Dales.

The truth was he didn't feel the same stirring emotions staring at the women, as had happened before he arrived in this world. He wished the Tantibus Mentis would fix that, hopefully, because Harry didn't know if he could stand to have sex again.

Harry rubbed his aching head, wondering if Ginny was that girl who would guide him out of this horrible episode in his life.

Ron grunted. Harry blinked and saw the boy had reddened even more as he glared absent-mindedly at the cover. "What had happened to you both is disgusting and evil. It makes me sick—"

"I know." He sighed and uncorked a new bottle of Tantibus Mentis Potion, carefully measuring the correct amount to drink. "Let's change the subject."

"Yeah, er, sorry."

Harry was about to drink the potion when he noticed that it didn't quite smell the same and the colour was slightly off. He quietly examined its contents as Ron continued to lament.

"I'll be right back." He carried the cup and bottle in search of Remus.

Remus wasn't downstairs, but outside in the yard, speaking to a Patronus of a phoenix. Harry stood back, guessing that he was speaking to Dumbledore. Remus turned around and realising he was there, stopped talking and the Patronus vanished.

"Sorry, Remus—"

"Dumbledore was relaying what had occurred with the goblins. They're furious we don't want to fight yet. He's been doing all he could to delay their attack."

"Remus, should you really be telling me all this?"

He frowned. "You're right. I shouldn't be—What's the matter? You've both been so quiet and moody lately. You haven't got a Dementor hiding in your closet?"

"We're fine." Harry held out the bottle and cup. "Er, I was about to take the Tantibus Mentis, when I noticed it didn't seem right. I thought maybe since you've drunk the potion before, you could tell me it's a normal variant of it?" Harry hoped. "I mean I'm not paranoid or…"

Remus snatched the cup and sniffed its contents. He plunged in a pinkie and lightly tasted the potion, before spitting it out into the vegetable path. He sniffed the potion again.

"How long have you been taking the potion now?"

"Five weeks. That's a new bottle Demus gave me today," replied Harry as Remus now examined the bottle. "I've begun reducing the dosage everyday for a week now."

"I drank it for two weeks. Healer Spratt said nine weeks for you because of the phase?"

Harry nodded, concerned now.

Remus stared at the bottle for a few moments, thinking. "This potion's useless—"

"What?" Harry said aghast. "Why didn't Demus—? Oh!"

The werewolf's expression darkened. "It looks like, Harry, that you are being kept here longer than you wish to be."

"Unbelievable!" He grabbed the bottle back. "Contact Dumbledore and tell him to come. I don't care if he's in the middle of a goblin-bloody-rebellion. I want that book back right now. I want to decide when I go back home for myself!"

"I will," Remus said. He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Try not to be mad with him—"

"It's a bit hard when he keeps acting like this."

Harry stalked back in, pacing up and down his bedroom.

"Just stand still," Ron spluttered. "You'll burn a hole in the carpet. There's got to be an explanation for this—"

"HA! Harry said loudly. "It better be one good excuse."

Thankfully, Harry didn't have to brood in fury much longer. Dumbledore appeared with the Portkey book under his arm.

"Harry… Ronald…"

"Sir," Harry replied tersely.

Wide-eyed, Ron hadn't moved from his bed, but a small sound escaped his throat.

Dumbledore peered at Harry above his glasses, with a small frown on his lined face. "Before I give you this book back, I need to tell you—"

"Ron is staying. I want him to hear whatever you've got to say."

The boy was about to get up, but fell back silently into his covers.

"If you wish," Dumbledore said calmly. "I've learnt a little more about Rowena Ravenclaw's studies of different dimensions. I have found out that the Department of Mysteries have known about the Giant's Cut and what the Unspeakables in the Order have told me is that she would not have done it alone. The amount of work and magic used in the creation of these Portkey books and scrolls would have been phenomenally Dark, powerful and unusual..."

"Sounds like Mage stuff," said Ron in awe.

"Perhaps... The amazing thing about these Porkeys is that that are all a blank slate, nothing but a dark fourth dimension until a person enters the chamber. Each of the Portkeys present there would change, evolve and pluck an imprint of a dimension available to suit the person's timeline and paradoxes. However, most of the portkeys are not truly empty canvases."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Rowena had only a few hundred available and she had personally visited all of the worlds for a few minutes, thus linking her timeline to all of them and chaining it to everyone. If she had not visited these dimensions, then every significant moment that had major power to alter your history would mean that a Mirror dimension existed. It could mean thousands upon thousands of them... millions by the time you die. When the person left the chamber, the books would return to a blank slate, until a different person came along."

"Shit," Ron breathed. Harry thought the same.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "This magic is unique. It is mind-boggling spectacular."

"The Portkeys had been gravitating towards Ron and Hermione too."

"Yes." The old wizard placed the book gently on top of Harry's bed. He gazed intently at the title with no author's name on it. "Now, that is not the only marvellous thing about it. Oe Fo Irbil, is backwards in Latin for Libri of Oe: Book of Travel. Harry, come over here."

He didn't really want to, but he picked up the book, stared at the title, and then threw it back on the bed.

"I'd be careful how you handle it if I were you," Dumbledore replied. "It is not a normal book, after all."

After previous experiences with dangerous books that harboured Horcruxes or hid people's secrets, Harry wisely listened. Ron had even ventured forward to have a look for himself.

"Try and open it," Dumbledore ordered.

"Where's this going?"

Dumbledore pointed to the book and Harry obeyed reluctantly, grabbing hold of it again. For some reason, whatever he did, the book wouldn't open. He prised his fingers between the covers, but it was no use.

Then Ron had a go. "It—won't—budge," he said, grinding his teeth together. He gave up.

"What does this mean?"

"It means you won't be ready to go back to your world until this book has finished writing your experience here. For it is busy writing everything. Only when it is on its last page, will it then allow you to open it."

Writing his experience? He stared at the cover. "How will I go back?"

"Your blood," Dumbledore replied. "It will work if you try it now. Three drops on the cover will suffice, however—"

"I'm not ready." Harry darkly chuckled to himself. "You could've told me this a long time ago."

"True. Though you should know me by now, that I would rather people discover the truth for themselves. I would rather they grow from their adventures."

"How the hell does letting me rot in Azkaban constitute as valuable personal growth?" he shouted.

Dumbledore didn't speak for awhile, though his fingers twitched. Was it nerves? Was it rage or guilt that Harry had awoken in him?

"Yes… yes, I did a terrible thing to you. I cannot deny that. My decision has cost you your innocence; however, you know I couldn't get you out. I never wanted to abandon you! Never…"

"But you used me," Harry replied quietly. "You're still using me."

"I wish there could've been another way to spare you... I wish you had never left the Potter's house." He sighed. "I am guilty of keeping you in this world longer than you wished to be. But you are not ready to go back. Harry has not woken, and they may be more you could do."

Harry said nothing as he caressed the dangerous book.

"Go home if you wish… I cannot stop you anymore." Dumbledore now looked exhausted. "But I think deep down, you know you are not quite finished here."

"You had no right," Harry mumbled, "to keep this book from me and to hide the truth."

Harry looked up and saw that Ron was pale. Even though he had told Ron that he would leave soon, the boy looked as though he didn't want him to go just yet.

Harry swore. He hated himself because he knew Dumbledore was right. He wanted to help discover this Stitch and he wanted to make sure his Mirror would finish the war, but it didn't stop him feeling so used and so violated.

"I need to go," Dumbledore said. "I am still trying to sway the goblins. Us, wizards, are arguing as well. There is fear, now that most of the general population have had their money stolen. We think this will lure them to Voldemort to get their fortunes back. And already a few are giving in." He sighed. "We need to work as one to combat this problem. Goodnight boys."

Harry watched the old wizard leave. "Wait."

Dumbledore stopped.

"Why does Harry hate you so much?"

He turned back with a look of sadness in his blue eyes. "I will tell you, but not tonight."

When the door closed, Harry Portkey book at it, not caring how precious and dangerous it was.

(******)

Harry struggled with what he should do: Go home or stay a little longer.

"What's your heart telling you to do?" Remus asked when Harry skipped breakfast to think in the yard. He had even been a little too surly with Ashley and Tony, that morning, earning him the cold shoulder from the both of them.

"I don't know… I think I would never forgive myself if I left, and you guys lost the war because my Mirror wasn't prepared enough."

"Harry, you have Neville willing to fight in your absence, and your friends know the Horcrux locations. Plus, the war in your world is young. You have a better chance at winning it. By the time you go back you will be a formidable power. You will grow greater than Dumbledore and Voldemort."

"It sounds great, Remus, when you put it that way, but I don't want that. I just want to go home, win, and be me."

"And that's what will make you great."

Remus's words didn't abate his worry, though.

Michael kept visiting every chance he got, several times a day, in fact. While Harry did not want an extra person knowing his existence, and hampering their efforts to find the truth, he knew the boy was curious about him. He managed to avoid Michael, by practicing Defence with Ron for half the day.

Harry also refused to see Healer Spratt now. He was done with the Healer being Dumbledore's pawn. Besides, he was felt back to his normal self, as he was after Sirius died.

"Draco Dormiens… Hey," Ron said, as Harry fell on the couch. "Michael was here asking about you again."

"I've always wondered what it would be like having an annoying brother."

"Well now you know. I've had eighteen years worth of it." Ron chuckled as he teased the fire with a fire rod, saying random words he thought were passwords. "Hogwarts: a History—"

The flames roared in a vibrant purple hue.

"I got the right Floo password! Hermione?"

Harry waited for Hermione's head to show through.

"Ron, it's th-three in the mo-morning here," she yawned when she appeared.

"Sorry, we've been trying every hour for days."

She rubbed her eyes. "So, what happened when I left the Floo suddenly?" They told her what had happened and she pursed her lips. "Well what do you expect, honestly? You've been here long enough, Harry that your secret won't be kept much longer."

His stomach did a summersault. "I just don't want the wrong people finding out."

"Hmmmmm," she responded. "Are you sure Voldemort doesn't know?"

"I bloody hope not!" Harry gulped.

"So you wanted to know if I had researched the Stitch?"

The boys nodded and she looked at them darkly.

"Let's cut to the nitty gritty, shall we?" Harry said.

"I wish Harry or Charlie had told me about it sooner, I would've helped them." She disappeared from the flames. They heard her opening a drawer and ruffle through paperwork. She came back into view holding a piece of parchment.

"I wrote all this down in a hurry, so my writing isn't neat; the Maltese wizard I spoke to in Sydney was rather reluctant to say anything and spoke fast." She squinted, as she reread her words. "The Stitch is an immensely powerful Dark object, shrouded in myth to its origins. It restores the soul to its original condition, though at a heavy price. To fix a broken soul, you need the soul an innocent person to thread the piece together."

"Fucking hell," Ron swore.

A Stitch in time saves nine… Harry thought. "But Voldemort made several Horcruxes, so that means—"

"Several souls are needed to repair Voldemort's soul." Hermione grimaced.

Harry was disgusted. "This is even worse than creating a Horcrux."

"Correct. To the Stitch, Evil is mocked. To fix an evil soul, the Stitch is basically saying you need a whole lot of innocence to fix it, and in the end, it will never be enough."

"It's like using a whole tub of Mrs Tuck's All Purpose Stain Remover to get rid of a stain and it doesn't work much," Ron said.

"Sort of. Voldemort may fix his soul, but…"

"He'll remain cursed and the worst evil imaginable," Harry sighed.

Hermione perused through the parchment. "Here, I found this in an ancient Arabic text a Sicilian wizard had in his possession. I had to have it translated by a Muggle. No one wanted to help me."

"Why?" asked Ron.

"It was extremely difficult getting information about the Stitch; people didn't want to talk about it. This Sicilian wizard didn't want to translate the text, because of the evil it spoke of. The Maltese wizard was going to curse me if I ever said he had told me… a Moroccan witch refused to speak to me, and a Greek warlock tried to Obliviate me as I left his house."

"So it's like finding information about Horcruxes," Harry said out loud.

"Harry, the Obsidian Stitch is linked to Horcruxes and the evil people do to others." Hermione cleared her throat. "He, who uses the Dark Heart, will wallow in the wails of the innocence he had destroyed for his own satisfaction. Cursed he will be for all eternity."

Harry held his breath. Dark Heart?

"Gruesome, isn't it?" Hermione whispered. "I thought the Dementors were vile, but this object takes it to the next extreme. And I don't know what happens to the innocent soul after it welds the broken pieces."

"Wails of innocence…" Harry tapped his chin.

"I'm guessing the souls used, will be neutralised to an extent and taken over by Voldemort's own. But whatever isn't neutralised—as injured and defiled as that soul might be—it will fight back against Voldemort forever, torturing him. I don't know if it can be saved."

Harry felt sick. "This is why Harry didn't want it in Voldemort's hands. He wanted it gone. He couldn't handle the thought of harming a person that way, even if it made Voldemort mortal again."

Ron paced the room, biting his fingernails. "Hermione, how much research did you do on it?"

"A lot. I couldn't just forget about the Obsidian Stitch."

"Did you touch it? Charlie said he heard whispers."

"Yes, I did, before I gave it to Luna. Now there is a main voice… and I think he made the Stitch, he spoke of vengeance for his dead wife and child. I couldn't handle the connection. It was strange, though not unpleasant."

"Do you know where it originated from?" Harry asked.

"Say some Greece or Gibraltar. Others say Crete or Stromboli."

"So somewhere in the Mediterranean..."

"But I think… ancient Rome… It kept referring to the Godess Trivia, and his wife was a freed Greek slave."

"However the myths in the region are all similar." Hermione searched all her written information. "In one, there was a Cretian prince… ah here: Aeschylus was the fourth in line to be king. Thirsting for power, he had murdered his brothers. The act of it had severed his soul into pieces and damaged him. Once king, he became so grief-stricken at what he had done and prayed to the gods for forgiveness.

"He did not receive redemption. To fix his broken soul and undo his evil, he then went to a crack in the earth that was thought to lead to Hades. There he prayed to the dead for days, and hoped Hades would return his brothers. But the whispers of the dead brothers only tormented him until he was driven crazy. He was so torn with what he had done, that he had ripped his heart out and threw it into the abyss, cursing everyone after him that would do such evil for power." She fell silent.

"Is that it?" Ron asked, scratching his head.

"Let me catch my breath, Ronald." Hermione quickly scanned the parchment. "A hundred years later, a Spartan wizard by the name, Lycurgus, was immersed in greed and wealth. He wanted immortality. He created a Horcrux by murdering an old woman he had found begging in the street. The Horcrux was guarded by a pack of wolves. No one dared cross them.

"After hundreds of years living, he had nothing, no one to love, no money, no friends and no possessions. He realised the horror he had committed. By now he was nothing but a shadow of a living man and his dreams were possessed by a black demon that smelt of death…

"One day while dreaming, he asked this demon what he must do to become mortal again and repair his soul. It pointed to a crack in the mountain and said one word: pray. Lycurgus went to this crack with his Horcrux and prayed to Hades.

"He heard the whispers, and then, an object was thrown out. It was a black dagger that was once the centre of life blood and spirit."

"The Dark heart," Harry whispered.

"Yep. So the whispers said he needed to murder an innocent person and use their soul to repair his own.

"Now, there is a variation of this myth. The Greek myth said the wizard, disgusted at the notion of destroying a soul to save his own, thought it was wiser to destroy his Horcrux and die broken. In the end, this act was his redemption, and thus saved. In the Italian myth, the wizard killed a small child to save his soul and killed himself not long after."

"Why?" asked Ron.

"He was so cursed by the child's soul—the innocence it possessed— that he threw himself in the crevice. But whatever happened, whatever the truth, the Obsidian Stitch has existed for a very long time, hidden in darkness for its power. It is a cursed object thought to have been created by the vengeful dead to mock the evil man can do.

"But in all the myths, the Stitch is either spat out by the sea, mountain or volcano, or a deep crack by the whispers of unearthly beings, at the cry of a mortal's anguish."

Whispers of unearthly beings? All Harry could think about was a similar experience of such an event, and that was at The Veil, in the Department of Mysteries.

"What do you think, Hermione? Do you believe any of these myths?"

"No… look; there is obviously a small amount of truth within these stories. But like I said, I think this person created the Stitch to revenge his family, and he is filled with hate for anyone who makes Horcruxes, because whoever killed his wife and child made some."

"Okay…" Harry slumped back, processing all the information.

"Do you want me to come back? I'll leave my parents here until—"

"No you stay put," Ron said. "I'll keep you informed every chance we get."

"Hermione," Harry started, thinking. "What would happen if Voldemort used a soul that wasn't pure?"

"I don't know," Hermione pondered. "Anyways, that's all the information I've gathered. I need to go to bed now. I have a meeting with the Undersecretary tomorrow about a bushfire that's destroyed a major colony of Billywigs. It'll be detrimental for sweets manufacturers and the economy for years."

"Sounds—"

"Boring," Ron finished for him.

"No it's fascinating" She smiled. "Anyways, goodnight!"

Ron and Harry sat there staring at the fire minutes after Hermione had left.

"What are you thinking?" Harry questioned.

Ron seemed quite morose over the last few days, but this was taking it to a new level.

"I can't sit back anymore. I need to do something. I can't let this Stitch thing be found by him."

"We need to contact Luna."

"There's no way to."

"We can start by tracking her then, like her last known address."

"We?" Ron's eyebrows rose.

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "I really don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"Well I can tell you what you're doing: you're going home."

"I wish it was that simple… you heard Dumbledore." Harry scoffed. "Let's find this thing, I mean it!"

"All right." There was a big grin plastered on his face. "Let's leave now."

"Now?" Harry said, wide-eyed.

"I'll go to the Burrow first and steal a Portkey."

Harry couldn't lie; he was excited to be doing something other than being stuck at Remus's.

(******)

It didn't take long for Ron to come back with a Portkey. By the time he did, Remus was in on the plan and Harry had borrowed Tristan's backpack, shoving in some food and clothes in case they were caught up. He left the book Portkey behind. He didn't need it, so he locked it away in a drawer.

"Harry, are you sure you want to do this?" Remus asked, looking worried.

"Yeah, I think."

Remus smoothed out a map of the Bourguignon region of France with a red circle on it. The werewolf pointed to it. "This is her last known address. I wrote the address down on the bottom of the map. However, boys, I'm not sure if she's still in this region."

"We'll know when we get there," Harry said, zipping the bag shut.

"The town is mostly Muggle with a few scattered wizards. Be extremely careful. I've circled all the Death Eater hot spots and they've increased in numbers in the last week."

Harry looked at all the red circles. There were many, and he suddenly felt nervous. What the hell was he getting himself into?

"Once you leave this property, people will follow, and many want the Lovegoods dead. And Harry, it's very important that you use wand magic only."

The door opened. "Bloody hell!" Ron growled when he came through. "You should see how furious the goblins are. There's another emergency meeting happening now. The goblin elders are having trouble controlling their kind."

Remus straightened up. "Go… time is running out."

"Come on, Ron."

"Hey, Harry, Dumbledore gave me these. I told him what we were doing. He didn't seem surprised at all." Ron shoved a gold galleon into his hand. "It—"

"I know what this does, very well," he replied, looking at the seemingly innocent gold galleon. "He's seen my memories."

Ron stretched his fingers. "Okay, I'm ready for the disguise."

Harry touched Ron's hair and turned him into a long-haired brown. He then touched his face, changing his nose shape and making his lips fuller while he made his complexion a little more olive, erasing his freckles. The only thing Harry could not change was eye colour.

Then it was his turn. He turned his hair blond and his nose longer and lips thinner. Harry also ditched his cane; he only had a slight limp now.

They looked totally unrecognisable as they readied themselves while Remus manipulated the Portkey's destination and return with an incantation. He wished them luck as they both touched the Portkey leather boot.

For some reason touching the Portkey with Ron seemed a little too crowded. Then they felt that familiar hook like feeling around their bellybuttons and all thoughts about the Portkey were stirred into a whirlwind of dizzy sight and sound.

After a very uncomfortable ride through the airless void, they crashed into a vineyard, getting their bodies tangled in the plants. Their clothes and faces were splattered with the last remnants of grapes.

"Great. Landing. Spot," Ron spat as he pulled leaves out of his hair.

Harry could see the outline of the dark house against the backdrop of the half moon. He unfurled the map and looked over the never ending field of vines. "That should be their house," he pointed.

"Wow," Ron remarked. "I haven't seen the moon in years."

But Harry wasn't interested in the moon. "Come on."

They made their way stealthily across the vineyard. But something troubled Harry. There were no lights on, and no smoke billowing from the chimney.

They crouched their way over the small stone wall and looked into the house. Nothing stirred. In fact, it looked abandoned. Harry looked through the one window of the living room and found no furniture within.

"Abandoned," Harry whispered. Then he heard twigs breaking.

Ron looked worried. He turned around eyeing the dark vineyard.

Then Harry looked over Ron's shoulder and saw a Death Eater.

"Shit—behind you, Harry!"

Left, right and ahead of them, they appeared. They were surrounded by four of them.

Without even thinking, Harry ignited a Protego Spell with his wand, as the first blasts of spells flung their way.

"STUPEFY—" Ron yelled.

"REDUCTO," Harry fired.

Spells crisscrossed, as the window behind them shattered, raining glass on them.

"Get in," Harry yelled. He pulled Ron up by the collar of his jacket, while another curse rebounded off the bricks near his ear. Ron threw himself over the window and hit the floor with a thud.

As Harry climbed over, a Death Eater grabbed his leg, but he quickly hit him with the Bat Bogey curse. The wizard let go, yelling as bats flapped around his face, their claws scratching him. Harry jumped into the house, and then he hit the same wizard with a stunner, shutting him up.

Ron looked out of the window, firing a jinx when they heard screams. "Who—?"

An old woman came screaming from around the house. She was swearing in French and threw a rake at a Death Eater's head, but he swirled out of the way in time. Then Luna appeared on a broomstick. She slashed her wand and one of the masked wizards was hurled backwards.

The old woman disappeared.

"LUNA," Harry yelled, restraining the fallen Death Eater with ropes, "get out of the way—!"

A Death Eater hidden in the vineyards was about to curse them when he fell into the vines. A spray spell hit him between the eyes. Though Harry wasn't sure which direction that one had come from.

After a curse narrowly missed him, puncturing the wall of the cold dark living room, Harry daringly looked out of the window shooting a Disarming Spell.

The Death Eater laughed as he lazily flicked the spell away.

Screaming again, the old woman rushed back, this time pointing a long, dangerous shot gun at the three Death Eaters.

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh fu—!"

He pulled Ron down by the scruff of his jacket as the woman pulled the trigger. The blast sent her sprawling backwards and as she hit the ground, she fired accidentally into the air. But the first bullet hit its target, and they heard a painful moan as the Death Eater fell.

They covered their ears. "What the hell was that thing?" Ron yelled.

Harry looked up and found Luna trying to calm the old woman, urging her into the house as they rushed around the corner. But a Death Eater, crouched low, followed them stealthily, as the one who was hidden in the vines, continued to fire hexes at the window.

"Cover me!" Ron commanded. He bravely leant out, with one leg hanging onto the windowsill. He flicked his wand at the Death Eater following Luna.

"Arghhhhhhhhhhh," the Death Eater screamed as he disappeared around the corner, bright orange flames lit up the property.

"Three down, one to—"

"AVADA—"

Harry fought back with Snape's spell, his wand slashing through the air. He said it non-verbally and it was perfect.

Not since he had hit Malfoy with the curse did he realise how much blood the curse produced. The Death Eater from the vines fell to his knees, clutching his arm which had almost been severed at the shoulder. Blood was everywhere. Harry was about to throw a stunner when the Death Eater looked up, and with a crack he vanished.

The living room door creaked open, Harry and Ron flung around, pointing their wands. But it was Luna and the old woman again.

"Hello Harry. Hello Ron," Luna greeted, breathlessly, wiping away blood from her brow. "Nice noses."

35. Complications

Complications

As a rat skittered past their feet, Luna smiled calmly, instantly breaking the tension.

"You're different," she said.

"Yeah, I'm not—"

"Our Harry."

Her hair was up in a thick bun and Harry was delighted to see those stupid, radish-like earrings Luna liked to wear in his world.

If only everyone had believed me like she did… Luna was different to everyone else. She was wiser and far more open-minded to the world, even though at times he didn't understand what she was talking about.

The French woman who came with Luna, had positioned herself at the window, keeping a close eye on the fallen Death Eaters. She started talking in French and pointed outside to a Death Eater who was moaning in pain.

Ron threw a Stunner at him. "Come on, we've got to secure the Death Eaters before we move. The escaped one will be telling Voldemort what happened."

They diligently restrained the injured Death Eaters. The old woman, now sitting on the stone wall, kept hurling instructions about covering their tracks. Ron Obliviated the enemy before Luna called the French Aurors to collect them.

They quickly disappeared, hiding behind thick trees and it was then they heard the cracks of Apparating Aurors.

Luna pulled on his sleeve, breaking Harry's attention. He saw Marie and Ron had already begun briskly walking away.

"Marie is my mum's distant cousin, and she's a squib. She said we've got to lie low for a few hours."

"I agree," whispered Harry.

"So, who are you really?"

"I am a Mirror of Harry."

"I can believe that." Luna slowed down to observe at him. "You must tell me all about your world." She smiled wistfully. "I always thought Harry would search for me, but I thought, well, my gut was telling me you are different. Why did you want to find me?"

"I need to help Harry…I need your help. Is your dad here?"

She nodded, constantly staring at him. "Come on, we better hurry up."

"Luna, did your mother die here?"

She suddenly stopped in her tracks.

"I'm so sorry." He cringed at his insensitivity. "I didn't mean to be blunt about it. You see, in my world, Luna's mother died when she was eight—"

She began walking again, forcing him to keep up with her. He felt like banging his head against a tree.

"My mother was talented and loved experimenting with spells and potions," she started. "When I was ten years old, Voldemort wanted to recruit her, but she refused… One day we went out looking for mushrooms and Death Eaters almost abducted us. She protected me the best she could, and as I escaped, they took her. She was later killed for being uncooperative."

Harry was left in a daze for a few moments and let the silence of the night wash over them.

"Where are you staying?"

Luna pointed past a few farms and beyond a patch of trees. Squinting, he saw a small house three hundred metres away. The small, whitewashed cottage was covered in pretty purple flowers.

"We knew Death Eaters would follow if a friend decided to visit that house. The alarms told us both friend and foe were there."

Marie had waited patiently for them at the front door of the house, with Ron, who looked a little uncomfortable to be near her. She pushed past them, with an old pipe hanging from her mouth, and her shotgun slung over her shoulder. Marie went straight into the kitchen and they all followed. Her grey, plaited hair reached to her waist and it swung in every direction as she opened cupboards, pulling out glasses and a bottle of absinthe.

"Make yourselves comfortable, I'll go get Daddy," Luna said.

Then Marie said something to her as she pointed at them.

"Marie wants your disguises off."

They looked at each other before taking a seat at the table. Harry hesitantly took off Ron's charms first, but when he did the same for himself, Marie gasped and gripped the edge of the countertop in fright.

"Looks like you're famous here too for the wrong reasons." Ron smirked, and then nodded towards a poster on the fridge, showing the faces of several the most wanted, dangerous Death Eaters. Harry's face was amongst them.

"Shut it," he mumbled.

Once Luna explained the differences, Marie slammed the glasses in front of them and poured them a drink, though it did not abate the suspicious look on her face. She didn't say much and maybe that was a good thing, because Harry didn't know squat in French.

Luna came down the stairs minutes later, gently pulling her father with her. "He's not going to harm us Daddy," Harry heard her say.

"He's—prisoner—come to kill us."

Mr Lovegood looked terrible. He was healthier, but it was obvious that he was still suffering from his confinement in Azkaban.

"Mr Lovegood," Harry said gently, getting up from the table. "We're not here to kill anyone. Ron is a member of the Order and I'm here to help. We just want to ask Luna some questions about an object Hermione gave her."

"You will not," he whispered hurryingly, every inch of him shaking. "We have no such evil here. Get out!"

"Daddy, calm down. They're friends of ours."

"NO!" Mr Lovegood yanked his wand out of his dressing gown.

"Woah!" Ron backed away.

Marie laughed. Her scratchy laughter was a sign of too much smoking. She banged the table, saying something in French, making Luna grimace.

"What did she say?" asked Ron, not daring to look away from Mr Lovegood's pointing wand.

"That prison has made my father crazier."

Suddenly, there was a loud cluttering of tin buckets outside and a heap of swearing. They all turned towards the source of the noise. In panic, Harry thought a Death Eater had followed them.

Ron was the first to investigate the noise. He peered carefully out of the lace curtain and swore.

"That little—wait here," he told everyone. Opening the back door, he pulled somebody in by the scruff of their neck.

"GEROFFME!" Michael growled, straightening himself up. "OUCH! RON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Ron was muttering something under his breath, and Harry saw the white glow of a spell pulling at the boy's features. Ron quickly stopped. "Just making sure you're really Michael Potter."

Michael yanked himself out of Ron's grip, rubbing his nose, looking at each and every one of them with mistrust. "What's going on here?"

Crossing his arms, Harry was not in the mood to be protecting his Mirror's little brother. "Why did you follow us?"

"I want to help you with whatever you're doing," he replied sharply.

"How did you follow us?"

"I've been watching you guys under my dad's invisibility cloak for a while. I touched the Portkey as well."

Harry did remember the crowded feeling he felt when he touched the Portkey.

"So you've been spying on us?" Ron reddened.

The boy blushed, but there was a cheeky smile on his face. He ruffled up his hair at the back, reminding Harry of his father.

"Michael, you really need to leave your brother's Mirror alone. You don't understand the danger we're all in," Ron spoke. "I'm sending you back home—"

"No, you're not!" he said defiantly. "I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for this war to end."

Harry shook his head. He didn't need to involve another person in this. "How old are you—twelve—?"

"Fourteen," the boy hissed. "I bet I know a lot more than you did at fourteen."

The little brother he might've had was infuriating and bold. "I fought Voldemort twice, a basilisk, Dementors, and survived a dragon by fourteen. Have you done the same?"

He watched the boy grow pale and retreat slightly. "How did you—?"

"I thought so. Go home."

Still, none of Michael's defiance seemed to vanish. "But—this isn't your war!"

"Yes I know, but I have to help your brother."

"Help him? He murdered—"

"I am not having that discussion right now," Harry interjected.

Ron lifted a finger. "Hang on—did you curse one of the Death Eaters?"

Michael nodded. "You see, I saved your arses. I can help."

"Not quite," Harry snorted. "I did wonder where one of the hexes came from. You know, Ron, he might actually be useful before we send him back home."

Luna was slightly amused as she helped her shaking father into a chair. "Come, let's go for a little walk—Daddy, nothing will happen, I promise."

Mr Lovegood was not convinced, spluttering about how evil and manipulative Harry was. Marie then tried to force some absinthe down his throat.

"A little fresh air will clear the air," Luna said. "The wrackspurts are overcrowding the kitchen."

Confused, Ron and Michael just looked at her, but Harry grinned. "Yeah you're right, Luna. Let's go."

After making sure Mr Lovegood was okay, they left and meandered through the darkened pastures. Michael trailed further behind them, deciding to keep his distance from Harry for awhile.

It was such a peaceful place. The air was clean and inviting, and the moon gave them light. But even here, there were tiny wisps of Dementor mist. Luna took them to a small brook, and sat down, playing with the little, closed up daisies in the grass.

They could see the abandoned house in the distance. There was light from a dozen wands, as Aurors continued their investigation on the property. He hoped Luna had covered their tracks well.

"I know why you're here." She licked her lips, staring at the moon. "I don't have the Stitch anymore."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Now what?"

"What did you do to it?" Harry asked, ignoring his Mirror best friend's burgeoning foul mood. He held his hand up, before Michael could start asking him questions.

"Daddy knew I had it and when he came back, he got rid of it. Apparently you tried to gather information about it in Azkaban?"

"Yes, I wanted to understand what my Mirror wrote on the cell walls."

"What did he write—?"

"Michael, shut up and let us talk," Ron clipped, ignoring the filthy look on the boy's face.

Luna sighed. "Daddy was so scared of its power, and scared we'd be killed because of it. There is a seedy Wizarding shopping strip in Montemarte, Paris. It is called Dissimule Rue. He sold it there. But we must be careful, there are Death Eaters everywhere. The French are afraid of Voldemort and it is affecting our way of life now. I'm sure you've noticed the mist is spreading here much more thickly now."

"Yeah and the French Ministry have enacted emergency meetings with the Muggle government, because they don't want a repeat of what's happened in England," Ron said.

Michael straightened up, looking at them all. "Our new Ministry is now asking for all the help we can get, both Muggle and Magical."

Ron nodded. "Bill said that in the last week, special alarms have been put in Muggle homes. Guns and spells… It's already helped catch Death Eaters and minimise deaths."

"That's great," Harry said, though he wasn't sure it was enough. "But we need to get this Stitch—"

"I will still help you look for it," Luna added.

When he focused on her, all he could see was sadness in her eyes. "Are you okay, Luna?"

She blinked and stared at the moon again. "I just wish Charlie told me and my dad in the beginning… Maybe he'd be alive now..."

"I know." Harry frowned. "Tomorrow, we'll go to Dissimule Rue."

Michael looked positively excited. Harry could see a lot of his father in the boy. He looked up, his hazel eyes bright. "I have no idea what you're looking for, but I'm in. But please tell me what the hell is going on!'

Harry placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Michael... Luna, I'm going to tell you something about Harry, Charlie and Jessica, but you have to promise me, that you won't say anything to your parents or any Order member until the war is over. There is a Taboo placed on this secret."

Harry had to admit, after a few horrified interruptions from Michael, he thought he wouldn't be able to get the boy to believe the story.

"What do you think, Luna? I mean, if a Mirror can appear from another world, then I guess this story can be true." Michael shrugged.

She had been silent throughout the revelation. "I believe it. Harry had many burdens to carry."

"But I don't understand," Michael pondered out loud. "Why would Voldemort go to all the trouble to make himself mortal again?"

Harry had wondered as well. "I think when Harry was made into a Horcrux, he did something to Voldemort. So that every time he created a new Horcrux, his power couldn't recover from the process, until he had nothing left. Voldemort wants his power back, and the only way he can do this is to get those fractured pieces of his soul back into his body."

"I doubt he'd use all the Horcruxes," Ron added.

"Voldemort isn't stupid."

Harry wondered how his Mirror was going to survive through this and how he was going to destroy his master. But he didn't want to think about it, because thinking about it made him think of his own impending death.

Ron sensed this. "Let's just focus on finding this Stitch thing tomorrow."

Harry nodded and yawned. They were all exhausted, and they weren't going to plan anything foolproof without rest.

(******)

Luna led them back and after another altercation with Mr Lovegood, Harry, Ron and Michael were shown into the spare bedroom. It was a small room, just as big as Harry's old bedroom at the Dursleys. He looked around in the silence as Michael fell onto the bed, letting out a sigh of relief after a hard day's work. The little clock ticked on the dresser, and dusty trinkets littered the shelves. But there were plenty of drawings around the room, of Charlie.

Ron yawned loudly and flipped Michael off the bed, lying down himself.

"Come on, Ron!" the boy protested.

Ron kindly threw him a spare pillow, while Harry made himself comfortable on the hard ground.

"Mate, do you want the bed?" Ron said guiltily.

"I'm fine." He didn't want to be fussed over anymore.

Luna wafted into the room with blankets and a tray of bread, with cheese and cold meats. "Daddy wants me to lock the bedroom door."

"Er, why?" asked Ron, now filling up some bread with cheese.

"He thinks Harry will murder us in our sleep."

"Can you guarantee he won't do the same to us?" piped Ron, before ripping a chuck of bread with his teeth.

Propping up on his elbows, Harry thought warily about Luna's father in his world. He placed his wand underneath his pillow just in case.

"Go to sleep, we'll plan everything tomorrow at sunrise." She left them after bidding them goodnight and Harry lay awake for hours thinking, hearing Ron and Michael snoring. It seemed like they were battling each other for the title of the loudest snorer.

Finally, after sleep took hold of him, he woke up in an empty room. He found his Mirror staring at him.

"I am going to show you a memory," the Mirror drawled. "Take heed, Harry, there is important information in it. You'll need to know in the event I don't wake up in time."

He vanished in a wisp of pale smoke.

"Hang on!" Harry didn't like the sound of that. "You're going to finish this, not me!"

Although infuriating, Harry liked the new Mirror. No more bullshit, just straight to the chase. If only he had been like this in the beginning, Harry might've been home by now.

He walked through a mirror, landing himself in a dark slimy cell with minimal light. It was the same cell Mirror Harry had been in when Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters begun conditioning him.

He gasped. Harry saw his Mirror wounded, spread-eagled and taut in chains. A shiver of dread and revulsion sparked through him. The Mirror's feet were inches above the ground and he was having trouble breathing because of the positioning.

The door opened and Draco Malfoy and Emily Miles went down the rickety steps. Malfoy had a cup of water and bread, and Emily held a large bowl of steaming hot water and towels under her arm. Neither of them looked shocked, but then Malfoy hung back and was sick in the corner.

"Are you awake, Harry?" Emily asked softly, letting the bowl of water hover in the air.

"Ye-yeah… Is that… Draco… puk…ing?" His voice was hoarse and he was breathless.

Malfoy wiped his mouth. "Never—"

"Yes," Emily answered.

Mirror Harry laughed, but stopped when he coughed and spat out blood.

"Emily… if you're here… does this mean… Snape knows?"

"No. Outside of those responsible for your captivity, you know a Conditioned is meant to be kept secret until the Cliff."

Mirror Harry snorted before continuing. "She'd love… keeping… this information… from Snape… But… why are you here… then?"

"I was brought here by Lucius Malfoy. He has, ah, taken a liking to me." She rose the cup of water to the Mirror's lips.

"Let's not discuss about why my father wants you here," Malfoy spat, crinkling his nose. "Harry, I'm surprised you can stand the smell in here."

"You get… used to it…" The Mirror licked the precious drops of water from his lips.

"I could imagine my mother having a fit if the dungeon beneath our drawing room floor smelt like this."

Harry's eyes widened. The Malfoys' have a dungeon? Thoughts of Luna, Arthur and Remus imprisoned in his world, sprang to mind. That would be the first place he would start looking for them.

"Bellatrix doesn't give a toss what she does to her Conditioned, Draco," Emily spat. She plonked a towel into the bowl of water. "She killed her last one. The girl was only ten—here Harry, drink this, it will help you with the pain. I stole some potions from Snape's stores." She uncorked a small bottle she had retrieved from her robes.

"Thanks…" he drank it all in one gulp. Relief was instantly reflected on his swollen face. "Besides, Draco… what do you think… a lot… of the Conditioned… go through…? It's not fun… and games… it's torture, mind games... and for me... they've done so much more…"

"I've never cared. The less I know the better," Draco mumbled.

"Yet… here you are now, not caring."

"Fuck you, Potter," he hissed. There was a hint of remorse and shame in his words.

The Mirror chuckled. "Draco… what happens… when you need… to condition a captive?"

Malfoy turned away, deciding to pry a rock from the wall.

Emily soaked the towel in the bowl and washed the Mirror's face with it. The Mirror shifted in his confinement, as Emily cleaned him down. Blooded water snaked down his body into a puddle.

"Why are you… both down here… anyway?" he asked. "What's the date?"

"It's August the third and my aunt is hosting a feast," Malfoy said, moving around the Mirror, bravely observing his injuries now. "They're plotting ways to bring down Hogwarts."

"I'd give up… my soul… to be a fly… on the wall…" The Mirror laughed, but stopped, in pain.

"The Dark Lord is expected here soon. Snape's not here. My aunt didn't invite him."

"But why did Snape let you come here, Emily—?"

"Because Lucius wanted me, and you don't want to say no to Lucius Malfoy," she replied. "But Snape gave me a stern talk, and told me to prepare myself for the worst."

"Never deny the Malfoys… of anything… Still… I don't expect… cleaning me… was part of it…"

Emily scowled. "Bellatrix killed all the house elves in her house, so I was ordered to prepare you."

"We think the Dark Lord wants to see you," Malfoy added with a ripple of fear over his face.

Harry saw his Mirror tense up at Malfoy's words.

"Draco just came along," Emily said.

Malfoy then tested Mirror Harry's chains, perhaps trying to find the mechanism to loosen them. "That's because I walked in on you and my dad, otherwise he would've showed you down here after your little rendezvous." He had a look of utter disgust on his face.

"He didn't do anything—"

"Whatever," Malfoy shrugged. "You're not the first and you won't be the last. My father likes vulnerable, milky-skinned girls."

"Me? Vulnerable?" She raised her eyebrows. "How long have we been acquainted Draco?"

"Awhile and how can I ever forget you hexing me? My hands didn't stop burning for days—"

She rounded on him and poked him hard in the chest. "All because you tried to grope me, you slimy little shit!"

Malfoy had to look up as she was inches taller than them and two years older. He jumped back warily.

"But now… we are all… wonderful friends…" Mirror Harry retorted.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, not daring to look away from Emily. "Just make sure my mother doesn't find out, otherwise you'll be found dead under mysterious circumstances. My mother cares more about her honour than breaking the Dark Lord's laws."

Emily didn't look happy with this threat. She quickly composed herself, and tried to keep her emotions hidden as best she could.

"By the way, Draco," she purred, "your dad said something interesting when he forced you to come down with me…'

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He crossed his arms.

Emily stared into Mirror's Harry's blackened eyes. "Go with the girl and see for yourself what could've happened to you… I wonder what that meant…"

"Aren't you the smart little Ravenclaw, then?"

Mirror Harry managed through his pain to flick up an eyebrow. "Well you and I… both know… that Draco's heart… really isn't in this whole… Death Eater thing… and his parents know."

"Shut up, Potter!" Malfoy snarled.

"Well look at you," mocked Emily, "going against the wishes of your parents? Kudos to you."

If looks could kill, Malfoy could've murdered them all.

"I shouldn't mock you… after everything… you've done for me. I just… need—"

"—to vent your frustrations!" Malfoy sighed, angrily. "You're lucky I've made myself scarcely available to my aunt. I'm sure she would've enjoyed me putting you through some hell."

"If you have the guts for it—"

Malfoy's cheeks turned pink. Harry knew he was about to spurn some choice words, but Emily interrupted.

"We're not your enemies, Harry. We're trying to help you."

"You might need to shove that idea up his arse because he won't listen, Emily!" Malfoy snapped.

The Mirror remained quiet, and inhaled a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Emily cleared her throat. "I'm almost done cleaning you," said soothingly after he hissed in pain.

"Cleaned… Nothing like a bit of target practice… for the Death Eaters… Listen… could you both do me something?"

"Write another message to Dumbledore, pretending to be you?" Malfoy whispered, bored. "Honestly, Harry, I don't know how long before he realises that the Sacred Cup of Merlin you're seeking for is all bullshit."

"He probably does and is just humouring you," Emily answered.

"Whatever…" Malfoy had finally figured out how to loosen the taut chains, holding Mirror Harry upright. "And I've seen Snape. He knows something's up."

The Mirror was lowered to the ground and slung his head back in relief. "Thanks." He cleared his throat and fell silent for a minute, learning to breathe normally again. "Just keep up with the lie for now."

"What do you want us to do?" Emily asked, covering him with a blanket.

He inhaled deeply, looking at his friends. "I need you two and Blaise to collect blood from the inner circle Death Eaters—doesn't have to be straight away, just the right time and place. Be smart about it—be very vigilant."

"You want us to free all the prisoners?" Malfoy asked in surprise. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"It'll be nice to fuck the Dark Lord over now, but not yet. It may be years before this war is over. It's time to start preparing in the event I don't make it out alive. Besides, I have a feeling the prisoners will all be at Hogwarts soon enough—and there will be many more to come."

"Harry, Hogwarts can't be taken over!" Emily said aghast.

"It will be. It will be just a matter of how and when."

He turned to Emily. "Listen to Snape. If I don't make it, make sure you do what he says."

Then Malfoy edged forward and whispered, "You need to stop fighting my aunt, Harry. Just give in."

Mirror Harry smiled. "I've given in to power before. I've learnt my lesson."

"This," Malfoy waved around at his horrible injuries, "is going to kill you. Cadwallader and Roux almost killed you last week. How much more can you go through—?"

"Just don't tell Snape I'm being conditioned."

Malfoy stepped back. "Why?"

"He doesn't know I'm a Death Eater."

"You're not!"

"I am, Draco," he said adamantly. "I wasn't and then I was. I can't keep lying to myself that I haven't enjoyed it."

"A lot of it you didn't."

"True… but then you get used to it. It drives you. It becomes a glorious competition… I don't want that to happen again."

"I know you won't—but if we tell Snape—besides, how do you know he doesn't—?"

"He doesn't, he would've cornered me by now. I never want to see that smug look on his face knowing that I've fallen like this."

"As you wish..." Emily swished her wand around the room, and a fiery glow from her wand instantly warmed the cell. "But I think he would help you, if he knew."

"He'd be killed the moment he starts sniffing around with his big nose. I don't want him too… he needs to protect others." The Mirror shifted on the ground, closing his eyes. "You could tell Snape there're more of the Conditioned willing to fight for Dumbledore. The trick is to find them. There will be many more soon. You can maybe form a group or something. Tell them to get the blood from their Mentors. Don't say I'm a part of this plan until I'm ready."

Malfoy whispered again into the Mirror's ear. "I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault, Draco."

The memory blackened, signalling its end.

Harry stepped out, and saw his Mirror staring out of the window, at the moon.

"When are you going to wake up?'

"I'm ready to enter the Light phase, but ah, I'm waiting until the perfect opportunity to do so. Did you feel the peace and serenity of that phase?"

"A bit, yeah."

The Mirror stalked over without blinking. "But it isn't as pronounced as it would normally be. We've just been through too much shit to ever feel its true effects.

"The Light phase is like the lull before the storm. It is also the only phase we experience after each level we progress through. For me it will be a very short phase."

The boy had gotten so close to Harry that again, he could see the gold flecks in his eyes. He took a step back, but the Mirror continued to invade his personal space.

"What do you want from me—?"

"Whatever happens in the next few days, I want the prisoners out first. In the event that there is a battle or siege at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord will kill all of them. Do you understand?"

"What about the Horcruxes and the Stitch?"

"That's not your problem."

"Not my problem? I've just risked my life trying to find the Stitch."

"How is that going?" He smirked.

Harry angered. "I am not going to free the prisoners for you!"

"Don't worry you won't be, but," the Mirror grinned, "things have gotten a little more complicated for us." He disappeared, leaving Harry seething.

He woke up, finding Ron, Michael and Luna discussing about Dissumule Rue. A large map was laid out on the desk. The morning sunlight welcomed them as it poured through the window. Harry hadn't seen the sun in many months and it was like seeing a long lost friend.

"Bad dream?" Ron asked with a sly look on his face.

He rolled his eyes in response, making Michael look at him curiously. "What are you guys discussing?" asked Harry, trying to flatten his bed hair and massaging his sore neck.

"Luna was saying that her father sold the dagger in this little alleyway," Ron pointed. "It also happens to be the most dangerous place in the street."

"Well, isn't that a big surprise!" scoffed Harry.

Luna spoke up. "There have been several attacks there. Three wizards injured and one dead in recent robberies."

"What sort of robberies?" Ron questioned.

"Potion supplies, illicit potions and unicorn blood… anything Dark. Last week Death Eaters tried to steal a jar of Veritiserum, but the owner of the apothecary destroyed the potion… it was a rather gruesome murder and they abducted her children."

Harry perused the map. There was a pawn store, a grocer, two apothecaries, and several robes shops. There were book stores a patisserie and a charcuterie as well, but most of the stores dealt with darker, more notorious things.

"My dad sold the Stitch in this shop." Luna tapped her finger on a store in a winding alleyway.

"What's sort of shop is it?" Harry looked closely. He recognised a word in the description of the shop, Mort.

"It deals with artefacts of the dead, Dark rituals, bones and flesh: both human and animal remains."

Ron had an expression of pure disgust on his face. "Well, er, I brought my dad's invisibility cloak—"

"Me too!" exclaimed Michael.

Harry narrowed his eyes when the boy pulled out the cloak from his pocket. It was just as silky and smooth, and he hoped Ron and Hermione were using it well in their world.

He quickly formed a plan. "Luna and I will disguise ourselves and go into the shop."

"What happens if the Stitch isn't there?" asked Michael.

"Well, then we will just have to continue looking for it," replied Harry. "Michael you keep yourself hidden at all times. Have your wand ready. And if something goes wrong I will yell out the word, Knargles, and you need to Disapparate."

"But," the boy curled his hands into fists, "I can't just leave you."

"Yes you can. You will and you will get help. But this is the worst case scenario," Ron said, slapping the boy on the shoulder.

"Luna and I will go first. Then you two," Harry commanded.

Ron snorted. "Side along Apparition, Mike? I haven't forgotten the last time you got Splinched. Fred and George still talk about it. Where did they find your legs again?"

"—In Papua New Guinea—in the belly of a Komodo dragon," Michael blushed, "half chewed."

Harry gulped, trying to imagine a large lizard finding a wizard's detached limbs in the middle of a forest.

(******)

After a simple breakfast of fresh baked bread with butter and jam, Harry turned Luna's hair black and her lips fuller and her nose more petit. She looked quite startling with her blue eyes in her new look.

Harry changed his appearance with shoulder length brown hair. He made his chin jut out as well. They're names were Henry Rogers and Lucy Thistle, and they were a happy couple.

Marie checked them over; making sure nothing about them was obvious to their true identities. She made sure they looked respectable in their robes. Then as Harry folded the map, she pushed them out of the house.

Mr Lovegood was strangely out of site. Then Luna told them that Marie had sedated him after he had tried to lock Luna in the closet to stop her from helping them.

"He's gone stark mad!" Ron blurted as he covered himself with his invisibility cloak. Michael followed suit with his own cloak.

"The Black Square did that to many people, Ron," said Harry. He thought at one stage, he may end up mad too.

He Apparated with Luna and after a dizzy moment, they popped into a dark slimy alleyway, they had all agreed on. It was only wide enough to let two people through at a time. The boys appeared seconds later at the other end.

"Psssssssst," Ron whispered, showing his head briefly. "This way."

They followed in silence. Harry's fingers were sweating as he gripped his wand tight and his heart hammered. They pulled their cloak hoods over their heads for extra security.

He could see figures rushing by, doing their daily errands. It was drizzling, wet, and the cold chill did not make this expedition more pleasant. Harry and Luna confidently strode beyond the little alleyway, earning strange looks from passer-bys, who were probably Dissumule Rue's most regular inhabitants. Some bolted in the opposite direction, frightened they might be Death Eaters or Aurors. But none questioned them and clearly none wanted to be questioned themselves. Many wore their hooded cloaks over their faces, and were whispering to their friends. Harry saw many exchanging things.

"They're selling an illicit potion," Luna whispered. "No one knows its true name. It gives its user a sense of peace and happiness. It is becoming a major problem here since the influx of refugees."

He guessed what that potion was, having been given it sparingly in Azkaban. "Luna, your dad?"

"We buy it for him sometimes…"

"He really needs help. That stuff will damage him."

"I know, and Marie and I are thinking of seeking help from the Order. It's just he's had this tight control over me ever since he returned. He can get violent sometimes."

Horrified, Harry adjusted his cloak when a shiver went through his body. If someone really needed the Tantibus Mentis Potion, it would be Mr Lovegood.

He kept his fingers on his wand hidden beneath his cloak. He did not like this place. After a brief experience in Knockturn Alley as a twelve year old, Dissumule Rue seemed worse, and dirtier.

After walking casually through the winding, decrepit street, for what seemed like an eternity, it started to rain harder but, Luna pointed to a little store with a large red sign with a white skull on it. It read in French, La Mort Nous Vivon: In Death We Live. Harry looked into the tall dusty window and saw candles hovering everywhere, while brown skulls adorned the shop window.

"Let's go inside," Luna said, looking over her shoulder. There were three hooded witches at a tiny café, staring at them, and muttering amongst themselves.

Harry grimaced, looking around the street, knowing that the boys were nearby, waiting to enter the shop. The door tinkled as they entered, and immediately the musty smell of leather, earth and rotting flesh hit Harry's nostrils. It almost knocked him out. Luna on the other hand, seemed unfazed. He then felt the wisp of an invisibility cloak brush his hand as the boys entered.

Skulls were everywhere, from the tiniest, belonging to a baby, to a lumpy large giant's skull sitting by the corner. Harry also spotted a pile of bones creating a feature wall to one side of the shop. A dragon's head and a litter of fangs and sharp teeth were at another end. They passed shelves filled with more precious items, and cabinets filled with pickled body parts, animals, and heads which stared back. Animal carcasses hung from the ceiling and in the middle of the floor was a coffin. Harry was afraid to think that there was a body in it. While the dusty lamps on the walls had shades made from human skin, complete with tattoos.

"Bonjour."

They jumped at the voice. A wizard, with papery skin and a large belly slithered from behind the counter towards them. He wore blood red velvet robes with large black buttons. His hair was not his own, but a curly grey wig from sixteenth century high fashion. The wizard also wore the wariest look on his face, and Harry could tell he was judging them fiercely. A seemingly young couple entering his shop would've been a rare sight, and very dubious indeed.

"Comment puis-je vous aider?"

Luna cleared her throat. "We are looking for a gift for a friend—a dagger, perhaps?" she asked in English, startling Harry.

"Ah, English are you?" The store assistant raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Well, refugees really," Luna replied, batting her eyelashes.

"Oui, oui, oui, refugees, of course," he said. "What sort of dagger were you thinking of, Mademoiselle? 'Dis isn't the sort of store you vould find pretty daggers for pretty, little girls to buy." He tapped his fingers over his large stomach as he glided towards them.

Harry gripped his wand tighter, not liking the wizard even more. The wizard noticed when his eyes roved on him.

"Or pretty boys for ze matter…" He stared at Harry intensely. "You have such lovely eyes… a rare colour. I would pay handsomely to buy them off of you now."

"No thanks. My eyes are perfectly fine in my eyesockets," Harry snarled.

The wizard looked disappointed. He turned around and returned behind the counter.

Luna linked her arm around Harry's, forcing him to towards an interesting cabinet of trinket boxes made of silver, bone and precious stones. They could see the wizard rummaging underneath the counter from the reflection off one of the boxes.

They strolled to another shelf, where a long iron wrought spear sat on a crimson cushion. Luna almost touched it, before the wizard yelled at her not to.

"Why?" Harry spat, forcing Luna's hand back in fright.

"No one touches Vlad the Impaler's favourite spear!"

Harry's stomach churned at that thought what the spear might've done in the past. When he closed his eyes he saw Brodes holding up that bloodied, sharpened stool leg Harry had tried to kill him with. He shook his head, shattering the memory.

"Now come 'ere, ze both of you, before you cause some damage to yourselves… That spear has Dark power."

"Maybe you should put up a Do Not Touch sign," retorted Harry.

As they returned to the counter, he heard the wizard muttering something about stupid English fools flooding his country.

The wizard pulled a box onto the counter and unlocked it. He pulled out a huge roll of brown leather and quietly unfurled it. Letting it sit on the counter. Within the leather, a dozen daggers glittered back at them in their polished silver, bronze or gold and iron. Some were made from bone or tasks. Precious stones sparkled and inscriptions in forgotten languages suddenly glowed eerily back at them.

"Do any of ze daggers interest you?"

Luna shook her head. "No, I was thinking of something a little more ancient than these, something more Dark and powerful."

"And why," the wizard leaned forward, licking his lips at Luna, "vould a pretty, little girl, be interested in a Dark artefact?" Again, there was that calculating look on his face. If he had suspicions about them before, Harry knew alarm bells would be ringing now.

Without clear thought, Harry grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him over the counter. "I'd appreciate it, if you don't talk to my girlfriend like that!" he hissed.

"Of course, of course, of course," the wizard replied, rubbing his neck when Harry let go, and readjusting his skewed wig. He cleared his throat as he flattened his robes. "However, I vould like to know what brings a lovely young couple like yourselves into my shop? And do not lie 'dis time, merci."

Luna feigned shock. "Monsieur, we are looking for a priceless heirloom which was stolen by our family friend weeks ago—a man with long blond hair. I must have it back."

The shopkeeper grunted. "And what does this dagger look like?"

Luna described it, but the wizard shook his head. Harry felt as though they were never going to find it.

"Mademoiselle, I do not 'ave it anymore. I sold it four days ago. And I am glad to 'ave gotten it out of 'ere. It possessed power I do not wish to ever experience again."

"Can you remember who you sold it to?" Harry asked.

"We-we do not reveal the identities of those who sell or buy items fr-from us," he stuttered nervously.

"But you do keep such information?"

"For the Aurors— please mademoiselle, please do not tell the Aurors we 'ave bought a stolen object." The wizard's brow began to sweat. "The fines are monumental and one more fine, I will be forced to close this shop."

"Oh I won't do that to you, I'm not that sort of person, sir, but I would really like to know who bought it from you." Luna batted her eyelashes, talking rather beautifully in French now. She lightly touched his liver spotted hand, making the wizard blush, and in turn, making Harry's stomach churn much more.

The wizard was speaking in French and as he wiped the sweat from his brow, Harry looked around the shop, wondering if Ron and Michael, still invisible, were trying not to vomit.

The wizard disappeared around a thick door with plenty of locks. Harry craned his neck, watching the wizard search through the record books. He came back, slipping into Luna's hand, a broken bit of parchment. Luna quickly hid it.

"Do not ever come back," the wizard warned.

"Agreed!" Harry said shirtily, opening the store door.

He followed Luna out and they both briskly walked down the street to the little alleyway they had arrived in. "He gave me an address," Luna whispered, as they past a robes shop and turned at the corner.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Let's go now."

Luna flattened the parchment. Harry read the name Stephen Huxley, but the shop owner had known it was a fake identity, and wrote in brackets, Mr Edric Ibbott, and wrote the real address.

"He's English," Ron said out loud. "Hang on, that name rings a bell."

"Bells or not, we really need to get out of here," Harry whispered.

That was when the screaming started. A dozen witches and wizards were fleeing the alleyway to their right. Harry forced everyone back as something large and green erupted into the sky. The Dark Mark. They rushed back to the apothecary corner to see what was happening. They saw Death Eaters at one end and Grindelwald supporters at the other end.

"GO. GO!" Harry yelled. Luna grabbed Ron and they all linked arms and Apparated.

They appeared in the underground of a Metro station, seconds after a train had past. The humid, putrid air swirled around them as they panted, relaxing slightly after that near miss.

"Fucking hell!" Ron swore, shaking his head.

"That was close," Michael whistled, running a hand through his hair.

"Right, so what's this address we've got?" Ron asked, picking the slip of paper straight from Luna's fingers.

"A château outside Lyon," Luna replied wistfully.

They sat down on a bench, surrounded by people waiting to catch trains, thankfully none had noticed them arrive, too busy listening to music or reading.

When it was time to leave, Harry led them around to a more secluded spot, next to a broken down toilet block, Apparating again.

"Where's the manor?" Michael asked.

The area they landed in was in an empty green field. "It's here, just protected with magic, can you not see the shimmering gold haze?" They all shook their heads.

"We aren't Mages, Harry. You can see things we can't," Luna said. "Can you remove the charms?"

"I'll try." It took several minutes and more concentration he'd ever enlisted in his life, but it worked. They watched the protective charms surrounding the area wash away.

"Wow, that's huge," blurted Michael and Ron gasped in awe.

Thankfully, it wasn't raining, and the clouds here were starting to disperse as Harry focused on the château. Ahead of them, the large residence had a manicured garden that would've made Aunt Petunia so jealous.

With a great deal of hesitancy they walked past the broken gate, and down the path.

Harry gripped the bronze lion head doorknock and tapped three times. The knocks reverberated throughout the dwelling.

A thin man opened the door, his watery brown eyes squinting at them all without a smile. "Who are you, and how did you remove the spells?"

"Hello, Mr Ibbott," Harry started.

"English?" the wizard asked.

Harry saw the wand poking out of the wizard's robe sleeve. Harry wondered if the wizard was running from the war back in their country.

"My name is Henry and this is Lucy. May we come in? We're sorry about removing your protections, but we have some questions—"

"No," the wizard refused. "You did a stupid thing. You've put us in danger!"

Harry raised an eyebrow and backed a step away from the doorway as Mr Ibbott quickly repaired the protective charms behind them. "Sir, we have a couple of questions about—"

"We are nobodies—nothing here—go away!" The door was slammed shut in their faces.

"Well that went down well," huffed Ron under his cloak.

"SIR, WE JUST WANT TO KNOW IF YOU HAVE A BLACK DAGGER," Harry yelled into the keyhole. He was surprised to see a mother and three young children huddled together at the end of the hallway, clearly terrified. Mr Ibbott was pacing up and down, twirling his wand. "We don't know what happened to you, but it's important we speak to you about a dagger you bought days ago."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"The shop you bought the dagger—"

"I'll murder him!" Mr Ibbott growled. "I gave him fake details."

"We'll, he's obviously done a bit of investigating himself."

The door creaked opened and Harry saw a watery eye peering at him. "But why is that dagger so important to you? It is only a fake werewolf cure with strange power."

"That dagger is of vital importance to the war. You will be in danger if Voldemort finds out you have it."

The wizard relaxed slightly. "You said his name."

In that moment, Harry realised it was more than just the war they were running from. "Mr Ibbott, we are members of the Order of the Phoenix." He hoped to gain a filament of trust.

The wizard opened the door wide. "Come in. I will show you where it is. But you must surrender your wands to me."

Harry didn't like the sound of parting with his wand. As they entered, they reluctantly handed over their wands and the wizard handed them to his wife for safekeeping.

"Why are you so scared?" asked Harry, staring at the family who were quiet and miserable in the dark corner.

"Do you think my family and I are here in France for a holiday?" The wizard showed them up the stairs.

But Harry stayed where he was. "You go first." He didn't feel safe with the wizard behind them, especially since Mr Ibbott had a wand.

Before they climbed the stairs, Harry heard Michael whispering. "Mr Ibbott is a Death Eater—in the inner circle."

It made Harry more edgy. Strangely, his gut was telling him that he could trust the man.

The upstairs quarters were dark and dusty, yet paintings of ancient wizards decorated the walls, and shelves filled with dark objects glittered as they walked past. The house reminded him of Grimmauld Place. They stopped outside a room with a red door and it looked out of place in the dreary hallway.

"Mr Ibbott why are you in hiding?" Harry asked. "Are you a Death Eater?"

"Was—now a member of the Order. I do however still like the Dark Arts. The subject is of great interest to me and I collect many unusual objects." The wizard unlocked the door and entered first.

"Why are you here and not fighting for the Order?" Harry stopped short of entering the room. Luna squeezed past.

"Because the Dark Lord found out, and Dumbledore told me to go into hiding. We move houses once a week." He stopped. "I don't need you judging me when I have let you in," he said, angering. "Now, do you want to have a look—?"

But something was not right. The lamps suddenly blazoned to life, and from the corner of Harry's eye he saw something clad in black, blurring quickly behind a shelf. The window was wide open, letting in a gust of a crisp breeze.

The wizard's wand flashed out of his robes.

"Show yourself!" Mr Ibbott yelled.

Then Harry noticed that a glass cabinet, filled with Dark artefacts was wide open.

There was a loud bang and smoke filled the room. Luna ducked and Harry barely could make out that there was not one, but three black robed wizards rushing to the window. Two jumped out, but one hesitated.

"NO!" Harry yelled.

The unknown wizard turned around, his golden mask glinted in the lamplight. He threw a curse at them, before jumping out as Harry ignited a Shield Charm around them all.

Harry rushed over and leaped out to his friends protests. He landed softly on his feet and began chasing the wizards into the nearby woods.

"Come back—!"

A red spell sizzled past his ear, as two Disapparated. Only one remained. He stopped running and turned around to face him.

Harry halted an inch from the wand pointing at his chest. They were panting now, energised by the chase. He glared at the gold mask. It was smooth, and it looked like it was moulded from an ancient roman bust. Except on its chin, there was the symbol of the Death Hallows.

Grindelwald's elevated his wand. "Don't follow us, boy. We mean no harm to anyone—"

"But to steal—give me that dagger!"

"It's gone. If you want it, Harry Potter must come and find it."

What the hell was Grindelwald up to? Harry suddenly felt uneasiness within him and a shiver went through his body. Then his mind opened up to another force. Oh no, he thought.

"Oh yes…" his Mirror hissed.

Harry felt at peace again, but his mouth was moving against his will. "Can you send Grindelwald a message for me?"

"What the hell are you doing, Harry?"

"What is it, boy?"

He felt his hand rise, yet he had no control. It was a power much stronger than the Imperious Curse.

The Masked wizard unexpectedly dropped his wand and rose into the air, gargling for breath.

"HARRY, DON'T DO THIS!"

"You tell Grindelwald that he may rise beyond what is expected of him, but he will never have Harry Potter by his side. Got that?"

The wizard, clutching his throat in midair, nodded.

Harry felt the power release him and his mind closed. The wizard fell to the ground, gulping for breath. Harry could see a wide blue eye staring at him in shock from his skewed mask.

Grindelwald's supporter skittered away and vanished with a crack.

36. Dumbledore's Sorrow

Dumbledore's Sorrow

Harry made his mind up on the spot; he wasn't going to go begging to Grindelwald for the Obsidian Stitch.

"They left this." Ibbott handed him a black calling card with a gold 'G' in the middle.

Harry had seen it before while recovering at Remus's. Sometimes James would bring home objects from Order sanctioned raids helped by Grindelwald. This card had been one of those things.

"Grindelwald was here?" Ron gawped.

"Just his men," Ibbott said, glowering at Harry.

"Why would he want that dagger?" Ron asked.

"Perhaps Grindelwald wants the Dark Lord to retaliate," said Mr Ibbott. "He's been doing a lot of that lately."

Harry frowned. "This goes beyond that. He wants Harry Potter."

Ibbott stared at Harry funnily. "The boy worked for me a few times."

"Were you in the inner circle?"

The wizard nodded. There was something about Mr Ibbott which made Harry believe that he hadn't been coerced into becoming a Death Eater.

They all examined the area for other clues, but nothing else was found. It had been a quick operation to steal the dagger and get out. He wondered if the battle in Dissumule Rue had occurred because of the Stitch, and if Grindelwald's men had followed them here. Feeling uneasy, Harry wondered if they were being watched right now.

"There's nothing else here," Michael concluded.

"So… a Weasley and dare I say, a Potter? What's going on here?" Ibbott asked. "A month ago, Dumbledore wanted me to keep an eye out for a black, bizarre dagger on my travels. He said it would interest me, but if it's going to put us in even more danger…"

"We've told you everything you need to know," Ron snarled back.

But Mr Ibbott was not done yet. "You know, Henry, if that is even your real name, more than half of the Dark Lord's army are not dim-witted drones you may think they are."

"If that's true," Harry crossed his arms, "then I'm very surprised."

Ibbott chuckled. "All I'm saying is that you are hiding something. Two known enemies of the Dark Lord would not be sneaking around my house under invisibility cloaks, if you and your friend Lucy were not in disguises yourselves."

In the distance, Ibbott's wife ran towards them.

"You should go back to your family. I'm sorry about what's happened here," Harry said.

"Come back with me, we need to talk." The ex-Death Eater frowned. "I have to admit, when I had purchased the Stitch, I wondered what I had done."

"What did you feel?" asked Ron.

"Hell." Ibbott stopped walking and stretched out his hands, examining them briefly. "When I touched that dagger I lived and breathed it. Perhaps Dumbledore wanted to punish me." He laughed.

"We've got to go," Michael whispered. "He knows who we are. He might be planning to turn us in—"

"Boys have a little faith in me," Ibbott interrupted. The wizard's hearing was sharp as a tact. "I was so high up, that bringing you to the Dark Lord would not save me. My wife would be killed, my children—if they're lucky—would be too. There's no mercy for traitors."

Mrs Ibbott caught up with them and hugged her husband. She was very thin and her blonde hair was lacklustre. From the state of them, Harry thought they weren't eating very well. He didn't think it was from a lack of money, as the Stitch would've been expensive.

As Mrs Ibbott settled them all in the living room, the oldest child, a girl of twelve, brought them tea. She poured the tea into chipped china, before taking a biscuit and bolting off to the dark corner where her brothers sat. The Ibbotts took a cup each and drank. Luna was the first to do so in their group.

"We haven't poisoned the tea," Mrs Ibbott said.

Harry almost knocked the teacup out of her hands in fear, but stopped himself. He held his breath when Luna sipped it, and relaxed when no poisoning occurred.

"We're sorry about causing a mess here, but," started Luna, "we need to get going."

"Why exactly does the Dark Lord want that dagger?" Ibbott probed, as his wife handed back their wands.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we can't tell you."

"Even though I belong to the Order?"

"Dumbledore didn't tell you."

"True, however…" Ibbott placed his cup back down on the coffee table rather sharply. "You invade my hiding spot in disguises, remove our protection, which only a powerful wizard can do. You have frightened my family, and then Grindelwald's men stole it. Don't you think I deserve an explanation? Mind you, if they hadn't stolen it, you were going to, weren't you?"

Harry thought he wasn't going to get anywhere lying. "Yes."

Mr Ibbott scowled. "I had conditioned many—Dahlia was the last—come here, girl."

The girl who had brought them the tea stalked forward shyly, and Mr Ibbott placed his arm around her shoulders.

"A long time ago, I would've considered her a filthy half-blood to be trained. Now I consider her like my ward." He patted her hand and let her rush off into the corner again.

"She doesn't seem all okay," Michael said in disgust, watching Dahlia wring her hands.

"Lorena, would you mind if I talk to our guests alone?"

"Come along children; let's clean up the mess in Daddy's favourite room." She gathered the children and retreated upstairs.

Mr Ibbott urged the girl on, after Dahlia looked at him with worry.

"She will never be all right while she's here, with me," said Mr Ibbott. "For a twelve year old she's already killed two Muggle-borns. After what I put her through, I owe it to her and her family that I return her."

"You want us to take her back to England?"

"Yes, to the Order. I know that Dahlia's parents are there now."

"Why didn't you leave her before you went into hiding?" asked Harry.

"There was no time. When I was discovered as a traitor, Death Eaters surrounded my house. We had no Floo, and they would've followed us to the Order boundary. I had to fight them to escape. We were chased several times through Europe until they lost my trail."

"Why don't you return—?"

"Please take her, and take Gale and Owen with you. They deserve better too."

Ron gawked in shock. "All the kids?"

Harry nodded. "It won't be too much trouble, I suppose."

Michael cleared his throat. "What was your position in Voldemort's army?"

Mr Ibbott stared at Harry in the tense silence, making him very uncomfortable. "I was chief interrogator for Voldemort. I also trained Death Eaters to torture. If I had succeeded with Dahlia, she would've followed in my footsteps. So would my sons eventually."

"Nice job," Ron mumbled.

"You can say I excelled at it." Mr Ibbott entwined his fingers. "When I bored of all the magic, we turned to all sorts of Muggle torture and devices—the ultimate humiliation a wizard could suffer."

"You were one of the Notorious Thirteen!" Michael pointed out. "I remember seeing a picture of you, but you had a beard then."

Harry shivered. He had heard stories about the Thirteen, besides witnessing this Mirror's memories and they were horrific. The Thirteen were the most violent, depraved and sadistic Death Eaters in the inner circle, and Voldemort's army was scared of them.

"When did you stop?"

"Let's just say, the last person I ever tortured was Harry Potter."

"Why had Harry been your last?"

"He took the longest to break." Mr Ibbott rubbed his chin in thought. "I've never seen anyone with such determination not to give in."

"That's Harry alright," Ron mumbled again.

"When we were alone, Potter would have the guts to torment me in return. The games we played. I wondered who would win in the end."

From the corner of his eye, Harry thought Ron was going to be sick.

"I played with pain, with control, and he played with words. Who would break first? I began to look forward to our private meetings."

"Who did break first?" Harry held his breath.

"The boy did, but not by my own hand. Though, if it had been me, would I be here now, in hiding? Would I be a traitor? I sometimes wonder…"

"Was it Voldemort who broke him?"

"I think so. The Dark Lord saw the boy in Bellatrix's home after she had hosted a feast. I saw it in the boy's eyes—he was shattered. He didn't fight back anymore after that night… He didn't even make a sound, he just stared at me."

"Merlin…" Ron whispered, shaking his head.

But Ibbott continued, "Then when he faced The Cliff of Mercy, we knew he wanted to jump off. However, the Malfoy boy intervened with a quick acting spell, and urged to boy away from the cliff. I decided to contact Dumbledore after that."

"So Harry was the reason you changed sides?" asked Michael. He seemed rather proud that his brother could do that.

"In a way," he nodded, "I had been questioning my role for a while before Potter was involved. I had questioned the Dark Lord's ideals... But, I was a Hufflepuff you see, so loyalty is fundamental to me. I was also a coward, denying my doubts, telling myself that my master wasn't wrong.

Potter brought back all my doubt. I found myself thinking did I really want my children to harm another person? Did I want to harm Dahlia further? It is amazing how one moment can change your mentality, after I had, since a teenager, been infatuated by the power the Dark Lord offered."

"What did you do after contacting Dumbledore?" Harry questioned.

"I continued to condition Dahlia, but now, I taught her, cared for her. Working for Dumbledore, I concentrated on gathering information about the victims. It was this change that brought about my downfall."

"Mr Ibbott, thank you for telling us," Harry said. "We will take your children with us."

"But what will happen to you and your wife?" asked Luna.

Mrs Ibbott slowly moved back into the living room. "We will move again and again, as we've done so for months now." She placed a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"We will return when Potter asks for my help," Ibbott said, staring at Harry.

"Why would he—?"

"Henry, who are you really?"

"I am Henry."

"There aren't many Mages in the world, you know. And I saw you use your ability twice this evening."

Harry frowned; this wizard hadn't been chief interrogator without reason. "I am not the boy you tortured."

Mrs Ibbott squeezed her husband's shoulder.

"Your disguise doesn't hide the green eyes I know too well."

"If he is who you think is he, would you still be alive now?" Ron questioned.

The ex-Death Eater chuckled to himself. "But Potter still has use for me. Although if he were here, I'm sure he would love to throw a few curses at me."

"I would too."

"The Thirteen had each made their captives suffer inhumanly. The brutality inflicted… What Potter went through was the worst I had ever seen a Conditioned suffer. But I guess I am wrong after all, about you, Henry."

Harry stared back. "Why would Harry need your help?"

"To fight when the time is right."

Ron nodded. "Before we leave, did you tell Dumbledore that you had partly conditioned Harry?"

"Yes. He was shocked." Ibbott nodded. "I've seen plenty men cry by my hand, but never my old headmaster."

(******)

Staing at the front door of Marie's little house with the others and now with a sniffling six year old Owen, a quiet Dale and Dahlia, Harry just wanted to get in, pack, and get back to Remus's quickly.

Marie opened the door, her wrinkly mouth turning into a frown seeing at how deflated they all were.

The children were whisked into the kitchen to be fed a hearty meal by Marie. But Harry noticed how flustered she was, and there was a look of terror on her face when she caught sight of Harry.

"Er, something wrong?" he questioned Luna.

Marie gripped Luna's elbow, steering her to the television in the living room. She pointed at it, frantically explaining what was happening.

Harry did a double take. London was in ruins, fires everywhere, looting was occurring and bodies littered the streets. Muggles were screaming, smashing shop windows, stealing and setting fire to cars. There was a large mob holding onto guns and sharp implements and a crucifix or other religious symbol in their other hand. Harry even saw someone carrying a long sword. Behind them, tens of green glittering Dark Marks were in the sky. They were all shouting in unison, that the end was coming. The scene cut to a church, where it was filled to the brim with praying people. The scene then quickly changed, showing other parts of the country in similar state.

"What happened?' said Harry in shock.

"Dementors and Death Eaters killed everyone in parliament house, and the army and all police invaded homes, killed a hundred thousand Muggles. The air force destroyed airports and train stations and electricity plants, while the Navy bombed ports and seaside towns. The royal family have gone into hiding abroad. No one is running the country. The Inferi are now involved now, infecting Muggles with their undead disease."

"Bloody hell," replied Ron.

There was a shaky camera scene of the Muggle army marching with the police, then with hundreds of Death Eaters behind them, cloaked and masked, marching in unison through a street in London. Then the cameraman was mysteriously brought down, the camera angled on the ground while dragon hide boots marched by. The Death Eaters bore silver shields, and quite strangely guns were slung over their shoulders.

"I bet you those guns are really their wands in disguise," Michael said.

A French news reporter was telling the nation about the English telecast interruption that had occurred earlier on, and it cut cross to that scene.

"Shhhh!" Ron waved at them.

The general, who looked as though he had been Imperioused was standing in front of a microphone. Harry noticed blood on his crisp white collar. Behind him, looking immaculate was Lucius Malfoy, Mulciber, Priscott, and Crouch Jr, pretending to be army and police officials.

"To the English people, the country is in a state of total control by a group we have dubbed, The Green Skulls. We ask that you all remain indoors. Lock your houses and do not set foot outside unless there are instructions to do so. If you are caught outside, you will be apprehended with force and killed… Instructions will come soon, so do not despair..."

Harry sat down in a state of disbelief. His mind was reeling, and he kept asking himself, is this what is to become of his own world?

"You know what's going to happen now?" Michael said.

Harry tore his eyes away from the television screen, now showing dozens of faces of major political deaths.

"They're going to order the Muggles out in droves, separate the children from adults. They'll enslave the kids and put the adults under their control."

"You can't put millions of people under the Imperious Curse!"

"That'll be impossible," Ron chimed in, "but they'll select a few to become leaders, and change their way of life, so that everyone will serve Voldemort. Voldemort will create a Muggle army to invade other countries, and they'll be the front line before the Death Eaters move in. Voldemort will eventually make the Wizarding world known and superior to the Muggles."

"How do you know all this?" Harry gasped.

"Dad told me."

"Yeah, so did mine," added Michael with a rigorous nod. "I can't believe it's actually happening."

"Scary," Luna said as she took off her disguise. "Marie just told me, France has issued a crisis alert to its people. There is a curfew now. Everyone is panicking because they know Voldemort will want to take over France next."

"Not just France, Luna," Ron shook his head, "he'll take over Europe all at once."

Harry rubbed his aching eyes, shivering. "He'll do it soon, with or without the Stitch."

"I feel like coming here was a waste of time," Ron said. "Now with all this happening, we don't have time—"

"No it wasn't!" implored Michael. "We know Grindelwald has the dagger. We've just got to get it off him. And we're taking Dahlia back to her parents."

"Grindelwald is on our side." At least Harry still hoped he was. "So it won't be that hard getting it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Are you delusional?"

Harry chuckled darkly to himself.

"Sod off," Michael said in shock. "There is no way he's with Dumbledore!"

"Michael, we'll talk about them on the way home. Luna, will you come with us?"

"Not just yet, Henry. I have to convince Daddy first."

(******)

"Mum," Emily Miles said softly, her hands twitched, as though she wasn't sure whether to hug her mother or not.

Lily couldn't quite fathom how the girl, a Death Eater, stood before them. Several reports told the Order that no Death Eater, apart from a select few controlling the Muggles, was allowed to leave Hogwarts without Voldemort's authorisation. Then Molly said that Emily had escaped, although Lily couldn't believe this.

Octavia, on the other hand, remained speechless. The Healer was in shock and Lily was beginning to worry about her.

Emily, still dressed in her Death Eater robes, looked at her mother without a hint of emotion. But she knew the girl hid it well, just the way Severus would. Lily gently steered Octavia into a seat, and Emily jumped in to help after a moment of hesitation.

"Mum, please speak to me. It's me."

"Em-Emily? It can't be… you can't be real," Octavia spluttered. "Dumbledore said you'd kill us."

The girl rubbed her mother's shoulder. That touch stirred the Healer into action. She grabbed her daughter and hugged her so tight, scared to lose her again.

Emily stroked her mother's hair gently. It was a touching moment, but Lily knew this girl was a Death Eater, like her son, capable of the most heinous crimes and proficient in the Dark Arts.

No, you mustn't think that, thought Lily, Severus would've protected her from all that.

"Why-why d-did you c-come back?" Octavia cried. She pulled back and gently caressed her daughter's cheek.

Emily fleetingly searched Lily's face, before focusing back on her mother. Lily then understood that there was an ulterior motive. Emily had never escaped Hogwarts. Lily felt for her wand just in case.

"I've only come for a short while. I need to return to Hogwarts. I wanted to see you and talk to Dumbledore."

Octavia cried harder, startling the girl.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Octavia, I don't want to make it any harder for you, just when you have been reunited with your daughter, but we need to talk with her alone. Time is of an essence now."

Emily stood up, her hand still tight in her mother's grasp. "Mum, I'll be back, I promise."

Octavia sniffled. "You used to love being hugged. Could never get enough of it… you never wanted me to let go of your hand… Merlin, I miss your smile. You don't smile now, do you?"

Emily didn't respond to this statement. Her face was devoid of any expression as she walked out of the room.

Dumbledore followed her upstairs into one of the bedrooms. Lily hesitated but then chased after them, leaving Octavia to sob alone.

They entered Ginny's room. The Weasley girl was a little stunned when the Death Eater entered, demanding privacy. She had been listening to the wireless about the destruction of London and other areas by thousands of Death Eaters and Dementors. By dawn, a million alarms had gone off. First it was Voldemort's army placing control spells on the Muggles, and killing as many people in authority. The Dementors attacked the cities, and then the Muggles under the Imperious Curse were inciting panic and violence. It was too much for the Ministry Law Enforcements to handle.

Ginny eyed Emily warily. Lily smiled at her as she left and closed the door.

"The Dark Lord's been busy this morning," said Emily casually as she switched off the wireless.

"What do you want to talk about?" Dumbledore queried.

Emily gazed out of the window where hundreds of tents still stood. "This is a private conversation, Mrs Potter." The girl turned around. "Leave us."

Ron quickly sent word to The Burrow, telling his father they'd be coming and where they should meet.

"Henry, I want you to come to Order HQ with me," Ron pleaded with a whisper; he looked quite frightened being in close distance to three children.

Harry felt rather nervous about this. "I don't know if I could—"

"Yes you can." Ron beseeched, clapping Harry on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

After a rather sad goodbye to Luna, and a load of 'thank yous' to Marie for looking after them, Harry, Ron, Michael and the Ibbott children Portkeyed just outside the town of Ottery St Catchpole.

They hit solid ground, and after a moment of dizziness, Harry was glad to see Mirror Bill and Arthur Weasley waiting for them.

"Henry?" Mr Weasley asked, cocking his head.

"Er…" Harry nodded, and Mr Weasley beamed, shaking Harry's hand with fervour. "Welcome! Good to see you're finally in good health."

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," Harry smiled back. Mr Weasley looked exactly the same and so did Bill, except Bill had no scars on his face caused by Greyback.

"Now, since the Order is under the Fidelius Charm, you will need to read the address Dumbledore has written out."

"Quickly now, it's not safe here," Bill worryingly said. "We fought Death Eaters and Dementors here last night."

Harry soon realised that the little town, up the hill, was deserted. A few cars had been burnt or overturned, a few still with smoke hovering about them. Harry also saw several mutilated cows on the road.

"If we get caught—"

"We'll fight back," Mr Weasley added. "We aren't Muggles." He stopped by the curb to pick up a melted mobile phone. "Besides, we've killed a few Death Eaters last night, so they won't be returning for awhile."

"They'll just spy on us," said Ron.

"They can't find you though," Michael pointed out.

"True, but they know the Order is here somewhere."

After they had s Disillusionment Charm placed on their bodies, Bill passed Harry a slip of parchment as they began walking to The Burrow, which was a five minute walk away. Harry knew the place so well, that even with the charm, he sensed where it was. He could feel its presence like a breath of a ghost. He could also see a silvery shimmer in the distance.

Harry looked up and saw his favourite place, besides Hogwarts, materialise out of thin air. He passed the parchment to the children so they too would see the house.

"How does it stand like that?" said Owen with awe, taking a moment to stop crying.

Harry saw the tents crowding the property in a haze of smoke and mist. Ron hadn't exaggerated when he told him about the hordes of Ministry refugees there.

There was a loud babble as they walked within and towards the house. Harry swelled with pride when he saw McGonagall teaching a bunch of children under a tree to transfigure a stone into a needle. Near a polka dot tent, Harry saw Flitwick demonstrating a perfect swish and flick movement. Some older children were delighted when James vanquished a Boggart. Harry also saw Charlie showing two young witches pictures of dragons he had reared in Romania, although the women looked more interested in Charlie than the dragons.

But mostly there was a sombre mood in the camp. There was plenty of whispering and pale faces. People were huddled in groups talking about the Muggle situation.

"Ron, take Henry and Michael inside. We'll take the children to be registered and seen by a Healer."

They waved goodbye to the children who looked rather frightened to be left in Mr Weasley and Bill's hands, but Harry knelt down and reassured them.

"There is nothing to be scared of here. It's the best place in the world. Everyone will look after you and your mum and dad will come back as soon as the war is over. Stay together, okay?"

Owen and Dale nodded sadly and Dahlia was shaking. Harry felt for her the most, being uprooted several times wouldn't be good for her either.

Ron tugged Harry to move, and he got up, reluctantly, turning away from the children. They started walking when Fred and George appeared from around the house, and then their faces lit up seeing their brother.

"Ron, you're still alive!" piped Fred. "Michael—you little shit-stirrer, your mother almost raised the dead when you disappeared."

"Shut up," Michael spat, his cheeks reddening.

"Well, is this who we think it is?" Fred said excitedly.

"Merlin's balls, it is!" George gawped, staring at Harry like he was a rare exhibit at a zoo. "Look at his eyes."

"Does everyone know who I am?"

"Nah, we found out rather by accident, didn't we, George?"

Harry highly doubted it was purely by accident, knowing the Weasley twins.

George winked, then whispered, "yeah and then Dumbledore told us to keep our fat traps shut." He shook Harry's hand, his eyes glowing. "We want to see you without your disguise though, and you have to tell us everything about your world."

"Yeah, and more importantly, if our Mirrors are just as handsome as we are."

Ron was about to steer Harry into the house when Fred pulled on his sleeve. "Hey wait, come see this, Har—"

"Henry," corrected Ron.

"Ah, yes, Henry, come and see what the Order is up to."

"What's going on?" asked Ron, curious himself.

"Dumbledore finally got the Goblins working with us, and since the Muggle world is up in smoke, we're rather desperate to get everyone on the same wavelength."

They gasped when they saw the entire paddock out the back filled with wizards, witches, Goblins, house elves and centaurs all training for battle. Harry saw spells bouncing off, or hitting their targets of potato sack scarecrows with Death Eater masks. The Centaurs were practicing with their bows and arrows, while the goblins were sharpening their goblin wrought weapons or spearing them through targets. House elves, many of them, Harry noticed they were heavily disfigured and missing limbs, were having fun with their own rudimentary magic. Harry was a little curious, even hoping to see Mirror Dobby. But he was nowhere to be found.

Bizarrely, Harry saw a group of ghosts practicing duelling, though he wondered what use they'd be in battle, other than to give living people a dose of hypothermia when they went through them.

He also saw Hagrid teaching people to ride hippogriffs, while a dozen gnomes watched on behind the bushes.

"Inter-species cooperation," Fred started, "I doubt I'd ever see this again in my lifetime. A lot of the Centaurs were killed, and the house elves at Hogwarts were slaughtered, except for a few who escaped in the beginning. Many had travelled from Europe to help."

"It's great," said Harry proudly, hoping that such fierce cooperation would be reciprocated in his world.

"Come on, we've got to get moving," Ron said.

Harry didn't expect Molly Weasley to open the front door with an unhappy look on his face. "Where's Michael?"

"Hello to you too," the boy replied. Harry looked at him reproachfully.

"Your parents aren't pleased with you," Mrs Weasley said. "That was a very foolish thing you did!"

Michael brushed past her, before she started yelling.

"We didn't know he followed us," blurted Ron, as his mother pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Alright, everyone come inside."

Mrs Weasley shut the door and instantly steered Harry into small dark room where she then switched on light. "Harry." She smiled, patting his cheek lightly. "How are you? I'm so happy to finally meet you."

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," said Harry.

"Are you hungry?"

"Rather famished," answered Ron.

"You always are, Ron," Mrs Weasley chastised. "I'll whip up something nice for you, Harry. But before I do, Emily Miles wants to talk to you—"

"That Death Eater?" asked Ron. Mrs Weasley nodded darkly.

Harry knew something was wrong. "Yes, of course."

It didn't take long for Lily to arrive appearing flustered and worried. She went straight for Michael first.

"YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED!"

Harry cringed. He could hear the anguish and fear in her voice.

"But I didn't!" Michael yelled back, backing himself against the wall.

"I'll be in the kitchen," Ron whispered to Harry, before he tiptoed past them.

"Don't you start, Michael, I don't want to hear it, and quite frankly, I'm so exhausted worrying about you."

"You let Harry go on missions—"

"HE NEVER HAD A CHOICE!" Lily roared.

"I WANT TO FIGHT!"

"He had the training—you don't Michael, not yet!"

Michael sped past Harry and banged the kitchen door shut.

"YOU'RE NOT READY TO FIGHT!" Lily was furious. "Oh blast it!" she snapped.

Harry looked around the dwelling, wondering with bated breath what Mirror Ginny was up to at that very moment, but he was unceremoniously snapped out of his thoughts when he caught sight of Lily staring at him, her cheeks still hot with anger.

Her grimace slowly turned into a small smile. "Sweetheart, did it go well? You can take that disguise off now. You're safe here."

"It didn't go well."

But she seemed too distracted to even question him about it.

"So where's Emily?"

Lily and Harry found Emily sitting rather stiffly on the living room couch. Her brown hair was in a thick plait, she looked at him without a blink.

"Harry, I need your help," she said before he was able to open his mouth.

"Haven't I been doing lots of that already?" He crossed his arms.

"Snape's in danger. He'll be killed if I don't take Jessica Potter to Voldemort."

"No!" Lily gasped. "Oh my God! Emily, don't involve her."

"And you need my help, why?"

"I owe him my life. You have no idea what some of the Conditioned go through and, and he spared me from so much cruelty."

"I have a very good idea what happens to them," Harry replied. "Why do you need me?"

The witches stared at each other darkly.

"Emily, don't you dare ask him," Lily warned. "If you need someone, I'll do it."

"I knew you'd offer. But I you're not the right person for this mission," the Death Eater replied. "We, that is, Dumbledore and I, are hoping you'd fill Jessica's place."

"NO!" Lily said adamantly. "I won't allow this!"

Harry noticed his mouth was open in shock after several moments. He took a deep, steadying breath. "You want me to Polyjuice myself into Jessica and meet Voldemort?" There was a sort of surreal absurdity about this scenario which made him laugh out loud.

"He won't keep you at Hogwarts," Emily implored over his laughter and Lily's protests. "He just wants to speak with Jessica."

"Why me?" Harry asked. Searching for the Stitch was one thing, but this was walking straight into the dragon's fire.

"Yes, why him?" Lily pointed. "I'll do it, tell Dumbledore I'll take my daughter's place—"

"Stay out of this, Lily," Harry said. He wasn't going to let his Mirror mother get involved.

"Because of your history with Voldemort. You know him better than any of us."

"Did Dumbledore put you up to this?"

"This is my plan," Emily interjected. "You have the experience to pull it off."

"Look, I have to think about this—"

"Harry, I'm sorry, but time is very important, and we need to know urgently—"

"At least give me a few minutes!" he snapped.

"Give him more than a few minutes, because I'm going to make Dumbledore rethink this. If he needs someone, I'll do it."

"NO! Both Emily and Harry yelled.

"Harry, I will not let Dumbledore play with your life again!"

When did he stop? "She's asking me, not you."

Lily shook her head and rushed out of the room, no doubt to find Dumbledore. Emily soon left to give him some peace.

He knew why they didn't want to use Jessica. She was a damaged little girl, and it would put her through more harm to go through this. Also, since she may still be under the Imperious Curse, Voldemort could order her to do things.

On the other hand, Harry couldn't do it. He couldn't meet Mirror Voldemort, not when he was compiling every ounce of courage to fight his own.

Harry heard footsteps in the silence. "Would you mind shutting the door?"

"I do not mind." It was Dumbledore who answered.

Harry scowled when the old wizard handed him a mug of tea. Harry did not even look up, just played with the mug, vaguely wondering what the tea dregs said about his fate now.

"I thought you'd be trying to help the Muggles."

"I was this morning. We moved the royal family to Denmark for the time being. Kingsley is in charge of the operation."

"So will the Wizarding world come out into the open?"

"Eventually, however, there is a lot of speculation in the Muggle community that these terrors are of a supernatural cause—demonic, and some are declaring the end of the world is near. So in a way that has shifted the focus away from our existence."

"I don't think Voldemort and his army are any different to demons."

"Very true," Dumbledore agreed. "Harry, I will respect whatever decision you make, regarding this mission. I want Severus saved. I cannot let my trusted friend die after all he's done for us."

Harry snorted. "You really think he won't be killed?"

"Not yet. He is still useful to Voldemort."

"Why can't you use someone else?"

"You know why. You see what he does, you feel what he feels. You know him. He will not harm Jessica. But I do want to know what he plans for her. And if she is put under the Imperious Curse, you will be able to fight it, whereas she cannot."

Harry so wanted to tell him the truth. He ached to.

Dumbledore peered at him above his spectacles. "I feel as though you are hiding something from me. But I also feel it is a secret that will endanger lives. Do not tell me."

Harry nodded, feeling instant relief.

"So you have met the Ibbotts?"

Harry looked up, hoping all was well with the children.

"We will reunite Dahlia with her parents before the hour is up. Mr Weasley has told me what had happened in France. I have also dispatched a Healer to help Mr Lovegood."

"Grindelwald—he wants Harry to get the Stitch."

"Harry, he wants you not your Mirror. He is fascinated by your presence and your growing power."

"What, so he'd be interested in talking with me in exchange for the Stitch?"

"Grindelwald wants to harness the Mage power. He wants to study a Mage and go through with its ancient rituals."

"He won't get anything useful from me, I still don't half the things Harry does."

The ancient rituals he had touched upon in the book Snape had given him involved meditation, blood, life, death and the invoking of the power of nature and even then, an unnatural Mage was inclined to die, not being able to control it.

"I think he's rather stupid to be thinking of becoming a Mage."

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "I suggest that you let someone else get the Stitch for you. I have asked Mr Weasley to do it, and he has accepted."

"Why not James?"

"I need James with me now, to plan for the battle. James, Remus and the Weasley twins know the secret passages at Hogwarts more than most."

"So the battle is going to be soon?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Once Harry wakes, things will move very quickly."

"But sir, aren't you worried about Grindelwald wanting to takeover?"

"It was a risk from the beginning, but we have grown close over the last few months. He has changed, and after sixty years in prison, his power is not the same."

Harry mumbled, "yes, but after Voldemort is gone, what will he do?"

"He says he will disband his group and go into hiding, preferably to a tropical island where he can concentrate on his power. He has urged me to come along. It sounds tempting," Dumbledore replied. "We will see."

Harry couldn't help but that Dumbledore knew he'd be disappointed.

"Sir, what do you know of Obsidian Stitch and what it does?"

"I am an old man, Harry, I know a lot of things and while I did know of the myths existing, I did not recognise the Stitch as being that particular dagger until you Mirror was in Azkaban. Nor did I have the time to investigate as you've witnessed in your Mirror's memories. However, you know a lot about it."

"I do. Also, I've guessed what Harry did to Voldemort… but I want to hear you say it. Why does he want the Stitch?"

"To heal his power," Dumbledore answered. "When a piece of soul is made into a Horcrux, what soul remains in the body is diluted, but the power and personality of the person is healed, although a little scarred, distorted. In Voldemort's case, the creation of his many Horcruxes had caused his appearance to change into what he is today."

"That doesn't explain why—"

"The creation of Horcruxes does not destroy your magic. It is my belief, my theory that when Voldemort had created him into a Horcrux, Harry had used his Mage magic, so that each time his master made a Horcrux, his power could not be repaired."

"That's what I thought." Harry nodded. "Sir, I would like to get a straight answer from you now. If you had known about Harry being conditioned, why didn't you help him?"

"He was too far gone…" Dumbledore sighed heavily. "When I found out, Harry had already been in Azkaban for months. I believed he was still up to fulfilling nefarious ideas and almost insane on occasion.

"But—"

"I know now that it was not entirely him. My memory is much better now. I know that Harry is a Horcrux, had been conditioned and…and that I…" He fell silent.

"Betrayed him."

"Harry," Dumbledore sat up straighter, "you can circumnavigate Taboo subjects with clues. If you are keeping a secret from me I am guessing it has something to do with one of Harry's brothers?"

"And maybe his sister."

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Thank you, things are falling into place now. I think I may guess one of the reasons why Voldemort would like to see Jessica. The curse on her eyes, is it still active? I do not want to tempt fate testing her and trying to remove it."

"She'll die if you do anything." Harry felt as though even more weight was suddenly lifted from his chest. "That's how Harry controlled her to let me go—"

Dumbledore raised his hand, alarmed. "Do not reveal too much."

Harry inhaled deeply. "If I don't help, who will you use?"

"Lily—"

"No way."

"She wants to wring my neck if I don't comply with her wishes, but she has three children that need her and James… James on the other hand does not agree with all we are doing to save Severus. He doesn't want you to do this. This is your choice Harry. You've come so far, and I know Voldemort will not harm you."

Harry shrugged. "I think Snape should be rescued."

"Harry, will you help us one last time?"

"I'm not—all right, Okay I will." Harry cringed, feeling regret already. "But this is the last thing I will ever do for this world. I want to go home straight after. Harry will takeover, he says he's going to wake very soon, days in fact."

"He will." Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you."

"You can thank me by showing me why he hates you."

With a great deal of hesitancy Dumbledore pulled out a vial from his pocket. It was a bottle with a silver strand of a memory within it. He waved his wand and a bowl with an ancient inscription of runes on its side, materialised with a pop.

Dumbledore sighed and swirled the contents of the Pensieve with his wand. He looked unsure and even ashamed, as he placed the memory in the bowl. "Please, you enter first."

Heart pounding, Harry did as instructed and plunged head first into the silver fluid, gently touching the ground of a disused manor house. He wobbled, almost falling, but Dumbledore caught him by the arm in time.

They walked through a dark house, where a long trail of blood stained the floor. They followed the blood trail down the stairs until they were in a dungeon. Harry heard the echoing screams within, and knew instantly, that this wasn't the same dungeon his Mirror had been conditioned in. This dungeon was larger and filled with many prisoners.

The trail ended at a closed door. But this was Dumbledore's memory and he quickly went through the door as though he was a ghost, and Harry followed.

Water was dripping around them and the rattling breath of a dying old man filled their ears. In front of them, Dumbledore lay chained, weak and wounded. He was curled in a heap of his finest robes. His leg was twisted at an odd angle, and judging by the pool of blood, his head wound was the most serious one.

Harry looked around and was startled to find Voldemort, wearing hooded robes, examining the Elder Wand that he had taken from Dumbledore. Bellatrix, MacNair and Lucius Malfoy stood either side of him. Malfoy was very pale and did not look well at all.

"You fought well, Dumbledore, however, we were better."

"Against a thousand men... I had... no hope."

Voldemort strode forward and nudged Dumbledore's cheek with his boot. "Where are my belongings you stole?" he hissed. "I knew you were up to something. Where are they all?"

"I-I do not have them."

"LIAR!" Bellatrix screamed.

"My cup was once in the Lestranges vault until I had it moved recently. Only two of my trusted servants, besides Bellatrix, knew of its new location."

"Yes, besides me!" Bellatrix exclaimed, bashing her chest with a fist.

"You—you trust no one, Tom," Dumbledore gasped.

Voldemort sneered. "One of the two betrayed me and told you, hence the reason why you tried to steal it today from the Nox's house."

"The Nox's… a good family…"

"They are Mudblood lovers, and they deserved death," Voldemort hissed. "Dumbledore, the security they have around their property isn't good and pure as you thought. It is Dark magic. Powerful and secretive."

Dumbledore smiled gruesomely, "I'm not as pure… good either—"

"WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THE CUP?" Bellatrix screeched.

"No one… no… did."

Voldemort circled the dying wizard. "You don't fool me."

"WHO TOLD YOU?"

A jet of white light struck Dumbledore, and he howled in pain.

"Please… please… don't know." He held up shaking hands, shielding his head.

"When I noticed that my priceless possessions were missing, I was furious. I wanted to interrogate as many as possible, but I decided to wait, to see."

"When… did you…you notice?"

"After I decided to check on my Death Eaters abroad, I visited two vampires who had kept something of mine, only I discovered two piles of ash and my possession missing. Then I checked for everything else. All were missing."

"Except for the cup…" Dumbledore stated.

"One of my servants is a traitor. I want to know who it is; otherwise you would never have taken the bait to my trap. Why would my treasures, my only possessions, be of interest to you? How long ago did you start stealing my things? Was this traitor doing your bidding by taking them?"

"I was... merely interested in the... in the properties of them."

"Why?" Voldemort's eyes flashed red.

"You know why."

"What have you done to them?"

"Why Tom, I... I destroyed them."

"No," Voldemort said, cocking his head to the left. "You're lying."

"How sure are…are you that the cup... you have… is the original?"

"YOU THINK YOU CAN PLAY GAMES WITH ME?" Lord Voldemort roared in anger, in terror.

He flashed his wand in the air and a white hot lash struck Dumbledore's face. He yelled in pain. The force of the spell hurled him against the wall.

But then Dumbledore laughed, pain stretching along his lined face. "Destroyed…"

"My cup is safe. I keep it safe, on me."

Voldemort paced in front of Dumbledore. His hands trembled in fury as he signalled the Death Eaters. A door opened and two prisoners, a black-haired boy and a blond one were pulled forward, bound in chains, and they were forced to kneel in front of them.

Harry held his breath.

"Don't…" Dumbledore gasped in shock.

To Harry's right, the real Dumbledore shook his head in shame, his eyes squeezed shut.

The boys silently watched the injured headmaster as Voldemort quietly regarded them.

"You and I will discuss the whereabouts of my treasures soon, but first, who betrayed me, Dumbledore? Who is working for you? Draco Malfoy or… Harry Potter?"

Dumbledore shook his head and laughed, blood spluttering out. "Neither, Tom, they are not… not under my command."

"Very well, very well… You've given me no choice. I could kill the both of them, I could have them tortured to death in front of you. But I would have wasted a wizard with good power. No, I will have to flay you slowly. Unless you tell me everything I need to know of course, and it will be over quickly."

Malfoy squirmed, shivering. His Mirror knelt straight, though a hint of fear betrayed his steely expression. But his hands were stealthily moving behind his back.

"You were always a fool Tom… Always blinded…"

Voldemort laughed. "Well let me see straight. Can you tell me who is a traitor is working for you?"

A tray covered in black leather hovered by MacNair side, and he revealed its instruments. Bellatrix waved her wand and Dumbledore was magically pulled straight; his arms held high, as though taught by an invisible rope to the ceiling, then proceeded to strip him bare.

Harry couldn't watch any longer. "Sir, I don't want to see this anymore."

"Wait Harry, just wait." Dumbledore squeezed his arm, holding him firm.

Macnair's flaying knife glinted bright white in the firelight as he walked past the prisoners. He rested the blade against Dumbledore's chest, letting a drop of blood christen the blade.

Neither of the boys spoke up. Harry noticed that his Mirror had closed his eyes, while Malfoy bit his lip so hard he was drawing blood now.

"No! Kill me… quickly!" Dumbledore's eyes were rolling back and forth now. He was shaking violently from cold and shock.

Macnair chuckled he swiftly moved the blade along Dumbledore's long white beard. It fell sadly to the floor.

"Who betrayed me? And once you tell me where my things are, death will be painless."

Harry knew that he didn't fear dying. But the old wizard feared the horror and pain before it.

"Flaying is a barbaric ancient Muggle practice," Voldemort said as he circled Dumbledore's taut body. "They first need to tenderise the skin to make it easier to peel off. However, we don't have the time for that."

Bellatrix was beaming. "Keep his face intact, MacNair. It'll make it easier for the Order to recognise him."

Dumbledore failed to give up the details.

"And do it slowly MacNair. I want him to feel every millimetre of it."

MacMair made a cut around the shoulder. Dumbledore didn't screa, that only started when MacNair did the next bit of the flaying process. Harry turned around; he was going to be sick now. He never ever wanted to hear anyone scream like that.

"STOP!" Dumbledore yelled through the agony. "STOOOOOPPPPPP!"

Voldemort leered. "Who then?" he purred.

"I'm so sorry… Harry… I'm so sorry…" Dumbledore cried.

"Potter…" Voldemort whispered in victory.

"IT'S NOT TRUE!" the Mirror yelled in defiance. "My Lord, he's lying!"

The Dark Lord was infuriated, but delighted. He turned to the Mirror with a cold smile on his lips. The boy was white as a ghost, but brave.

Harry wondered if Dumbledore had been in the right state of mind, if he would've given either boy up. But the choices were tough nonetheless, and Harry wondered if he could've kept his mouth shut while being flayed alive.

"As I suspected," Voldemort started. "There you see, Lucius, there is nothing more to fear. Your son is safe." He cackled, as Draco's chains slithered away.

Lucius grabbed his son by the scruff of the neck and pulled him to his side.

"Harry Potter…"

"My Lord?" the boy responded, hands now writhing in the chains binding them.

"I have watched you closely for a few years now. I have been intrigued and curious as I watched you develop. Your powers are growing, yes, oh how I've noticed... you would've been great! But it is time you parted from this world."

"Harry… It's time…" the injured Dumbledore stated, his head lolling back limply.

The boy looked away from his master. "But I haven't destroyed the last two," he said bitterly.

"You—?" Voldemort drank in the words. "YOU DESTROYED THEM?" The horror in the Dark Lord's eyes was indescribable.

The Mirror smirked back, his green eyes cold now. He had no fear. "I've watched you too for a very long time, Master." He bowed, mocking him.

"It was you."

"You should've feared the prophecy a little more."

Voldemort stumbled back, panting. "You ruined me, Potter. WHERE ARE THEY?" he bellowed. Green sparks flew from his wand.

"My Lord, what do you mean he has ruined you?" Bellatrix trembled.

"SILENCE, BELLA."

"HARRY," Dumbledore yelled. "NOW!"

The boy's eyes flicked from Dumbledore to Voldemort. Both were yelling at him now.

"WHERE ARE THEY?"

"HARRY—DO IT NOW! He will be nothing—weak spirit. DO IT! He will not kill you."

The Death Eaters closed in. The only person who had backed himself against the wall was Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale, shaking his head as though he could not believe what was happening

Suddenly, a white light engulfed the Death Eaters and Voldemort, and they were all thrown backwards, screaming in pain.

"Whoever put in those defence charms against my power needs a little more training," the Mirror laughed as he jumped over the pile of squirming and still bodies. His chains which had once bound him flew off. He yanked at Dumbledore's arm as a silvery blue shield surrounded the both of them, barricading them from the green spells now hitting the barrier.

"You… you mastered it?" Dumbledore's eyes rolled back into his head. He was growing paler by the second. "You created… created spell… protects you… Avada—" He coughed more blood and shivered violently. Then he suddenly grabbed at the boy's robes. "I'm sorry."

"Shhh, I'll get you out of here."

"I just wanted to see you complete… finish war."

"It's not going to happen tonight."

Voldemort continued to scream at them, firing more and more curses. The shield was beginning to weaken. The Mirror broke through the rest of the defence and shield magic and Disapparated the both of them.

The memory swirled and changed. They were at Hogwarts, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest under a dark, misty sky. The Mirror ripped his outer Death Eater robe off and covered Dumbledore's body. He stumbled upright.

Dumbledore coughed. "Í'm so sorry, Harry."

"You promised never to reveal us," the Mirror said. "You said never to give myself up, regardless of the circumstances. It was going to be perfect. You ruined everything!"

"I… protected you, but you are now… Death Eater."

"Harry, leave… hide. Get as far away as possible," Dumbledore wheezed.

"Why did you go for the cup? It was almost over. I had a plan to take it. Draco thought I was stalling, but I knew it was a trap. I figured that the cup was close to Voldemort."

"I doubted you, Harry. So does Draco… I asked you… what was happening with the destruction… two Horcruxes… you never replied. I don't think… finished the plan anymore. Why did you not give me the locket?"

Then the Mirror understood. "You gave up on me a long time ago." He looked so betrayed now. "Here…"

He pulled something out of a magically hidden pocket. It was Slytherin's locket and he placed it within Dumbledore's hand.

"The reason I didn't destroy the locket was because the first one I found was a fake. The real one, I admit, intrigued me. Its power was fascinating and it took hold of me. I had to have it, it was like an addiction. But I was going to destroy it tonight. I almost did, and… and…."

"You were summoned."

"As for not answering your questions about the cup and giving you updates on my plans: I was being watched day and night and my owls intercepted."

"Excuses—"

"Excuses?" The Mirror was furious. "You heard the Dark Lord! He knew what had happened to his Horcruxes months ago."

"Har—" Dumbledore coughed. "You liked… the power. You never proved me otherwise."

"Do you realise what I've been through this whole year?" he hissed. "I resisted as long as I could for you!"

"I told you the phase—"

"It's not just that. The things I did—I did for you and the stuff that happened to me as a consequence… it changed me."

"You destroyed yourself," Dumbledore said gravely.

The Mirror opened his mouth, but did not utter a word. He was in shock. Harry felt the boy's exhaustion, the immense hurt and betrayal, and the horror of his memories of Greyback.

"Harry…"

"You were supposed to help me through it. But I was alone the moment you asked me to become a Death Eater."

"Not true…"

"Just save your energy." Jaw clenched shut, he then he disappeared from the site.

The memory dissolved and Harry and Dumbledore both found themselves back at the Burrow.

The silence in the room was thick, and Harry's ears were still buzzing from the screams. He looked around wanting to escape, but then Dumbledore spoke.

"A week after that, Harry had been caught. Draco Malfoy was giving him supplies, and Bellatrix followed him. Voldemort decided not to kill him as he saw greater use for him… He was given to Bellatrix and conditioned into a model Death Eater."

"It wasn't just her…"

"Usually one or two Death Eaters are involved, but in Harry's case, it was the Notorious Thirteen: The Lestranges, the Carrows, Ibbott, Greyback, Tom Nesbitt, Klaus Ebner, MacNair, Olive Dreadford, Bob Cadwallader, Vera and Julien Roux." Dumbledore shook his head. "They are the worst of the worst. Some are unhinged, sadistic, and that's why Voldemort likes them by his side, because they keep his army under control. He entrusts these thirteen Death Eaters with the most stubborn of captives, and important spies and traitors. The victims bodies would be strewn all over the country in pieces… desecrated, mutilated. It is horrific…"

"I've heard the stories," gulped Harry.

"And the children they've conditioned are so broken, that they don't know who they are anymore. Many do not survive… The Pettigrew children learnt quickly that the only way they could escape Bellatrix's torture is to just do whatever she wanted them to."

Dumbledore covered his eyes with his shaking hands. "And to think that Harry at suffered by the Thirteen…"

"And then Harry was made into a Horcrux."

"Yes. He excelled spectacularly as a conditioned Death Eater and developed a healthy hate for me, and rightfully so."

Harry crumbled into a chair, letting every word sink in. "Malfoy?"

"Draco told me the location of the cup. Trap or not, the hunt had gone on for too long and I needed to step in and complete the search."

"Why didn't you give Malfoy up?"

"There was hope for Draco. There was always reluctance in him about Voldemort's cause. He just didn't know how to escape from it all. I knew Harry would win him over, and that is partly one of the reasons why I wanted him to become a Death Eater: to help Draco."

"He willingly fights for you now."

"I am so proud of what he has achieved and how he has grown into a brave young man."

"How did he tell you without getting himself caught? Wasn't he being watched?"

"He used a house elf, by the name of—"

"Dobby," Harry exhaled. He rubbed his aching temples.

"Yes and he forbade the elf to ever speak of it again. Bellatrix killed him last year on a whim."

"Do you believe in Harry now, do you believe he is on our side?"

"It is more complicated than that. I… I gave him up believing he had switched sides, that he was harbouring the real Horcrux locket, and would use it to gain leverage over Voldemort."

"Yeah, he was drawing himself in to the Dark side, but he still wanted to finish the war—"

"Harry was changing. He was starting to enjoy torturing Muggle-borns and was developing a healthy aptitude at abducting people. He did not care about defeating Voldemort. He was more interested in gaining more power."

"You do realise, some of it was part of the act? He had resisted all he could for you. He never wanted to kill. But Bellatrix let Greyback rape him as punishment, and…"

"He welcomed the darkness with open arms." Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Harry don't look at me like that—"

"A part of you dies when they... Harry thought the same and it terrified him, and bit by bit Bellatrix won."

"I'm so sorry."

"Your apologies won't change what happened to us. All I can say is that Harry knew he did wrong as he was being conditioned. He admitted to enjoying being a Death Eater. After his conditioning, he wanted to fight them."

"I tried to help him—"

"He is so broken. You knew this would happen from the beginning, didn't you?"

"Yes... But I tried..." Dumbledore's resolve broke down. He started to sob. "I tried to steer him in the right direction. He refused my help. What else could I have done?"

"Sir?" Harry asked, hesitating when the wizard did not reply.

"I gave him up." He covered his eyes. "It… It was the hardest thing I ever had to do… and I regret it more than anything I've ever done, besides you. In my injured state, I was frightened of the pain… I wanted the war to finish… but I know I should've died suffering. I hate myself and what I've become. I've forced people to endure great sufferings to get the end I want."

Harry didn't know what to say. One of the greatest wizards in history was showing his pain, his sins, and his vulnerability. Dumbledore was a shattered soul as well, but in a different way. The decades of war had made him into a scheming man, who had been in denial about the damage he had inflicted, just as long as the war ended.

"So many grave mistakes… Please Harry, you must understand that I tried to help him, but he pulled further away from me. I gave up and thought him lost." Dumbledore inhaled sharply. "Then you…"

"Sir—"

"But you have to understand!"

"I do."

"The emotions I was going through then… if Harry, my protégé, a man who I had groomed into a Mage had turned into a Dark menace that would create another war—a new terror—then my shame would be nothing to the hell I would've had to endure. He almost did. You know he would've turned into a Dark Lord, if he was allowed to continue on uninterrupted. He saw the error of his ways too late—too late!"

He thought about his Mirror framing him so he could go to prison. The Mirror's confinement and the possession of Voldemort's soul in him had skewed his mind, fracturing it almost.

However, as he closed his eyes and imagined the boy looking at the Muggle woman's blood on his hands in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, in his heart, Harry knew his Mirror would've risen to become a Dark Lord, even if he hadn't become a Horcrux.

37. The Reluctant Decoy

The Reluctant Decoy

Lily jumped up from her hallway chair when Ginny's bedroom door opened. Harry and Dumbledore emerged quietly from their private discussion.

"We will be at Remus's, nine tonight," Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "I will deliver my Pensieve a few hours before. I suggest you put as many memories of your life in it for safekeeping."

"Good idea." Harry nodded. "I'll keep the ones of Azkaban and some of my recovery at Snape's."

When Dumbledore disappeared, Harry bowed his head, looking a bit forlorn and lost.

"Harry, I want to do this for you. I'll Polyjuice myself."

"I don't want you to." He looked up, finally meeting her eyes. "If anything happens to you, I won't be able to live with myself."

"But this—"

"Lily, you have four living children to worry about. Keep them safe."

"Five. Five children," she whispered.

It took a moment for him to realise what she meant. "I'm a stranger."

Lily bit her lip, suddenly frozen with a million things buzzing through her mind. She wanted to take him into her arms and tell him it was alright. It was hard to resist the urge to keep her Mirror son close, and to give him the chance to have a family.

"You are what he once was."

"Everyone keeps telling me that. But I'm not yours. Harry needs you more."

Harry needs you more…

Lily felt like she was falling into a trap, and this trap would destroy her. Let him go, she thought. He has his own life… his own world to fight for.

Her boy would be waking any day now, and she needed to prepare herself for the worst. Her Harry would never be the same little boy with skinned knees and a knack for hiding, with a determination to protect those he loved. He would wake up a broken man, with a wounded heart and a deep seeded bitterness for the world.

He will never see her as his mother again, but as a woman he once knew. She would only function as a memory to his happier past.

"Look," Harry grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "Your son did a lot of evil and stupid things, but it's so much more than that, and you will learn the truth soon.

"I hope so."

"One day he's going to need your help again, and you can't help him if you end up dead."

She sighed. "I know…"

"Good," he replied. "So let me do this one last thing and then I'm out of this world."

Clasping her cloak on she said, "I'm so sorry they had to ask you." Even in the darkness of the hallway, she sensed that Harry was brooding over what's to come.

Harry gave her a curt nod in silence. "Is Ron coming?"

"He's waiting for us at the boundary," Michael told them as he tiptoed out of the kitchen. "Mum, don't give that look, please."

"I'm furious!"

He gave her a sort of apologetic look before covering himself with the invisibility cloak.

She had feared the worst when Michael had vanished, until Remus discovered a note, telling them that he had followed the boys. Why did her children have to inherit their father's talent for danger?

"Harry, I'll take you to meet Jessica straight away. You can get a sense what she is like."

"I know a bit—"

"WAIT!" Ginny called.

Harry turned around. "Ah…" His legs almost gave way with shock.

Ginny ran towards the with her long hair flying behind her. "Hi—sorry," she said out of breath. "I um, I've known for a bit." She grabbed Harry's hand, looking very nervous, but determined. "I had to see you."

"Okay…" He looked petrified.

"Harry and I never…" She flicked her nervous eyes towards Lily. "Well, we were never together. Friends once—although he once felt something for me and—and maybe I did too—well that was before he changed—but I just want to—"

She suddenly kissed his cheek.

"I just want to thank you for all you've done for him. It means so much to all of us."

And with those final words, Ginny let go and disappeared. Lily watched Harry touch his cheek, cherishing the kiss.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, and then he finally nodded.

"Don't forget to put on your disguise. Otherwise they'll be a lot of wands pointed at you."

Michael was sniggering under the cloak.

"Shall I help you walk?" Lily tried not to smile.

"No, I'm fine I think." Harry slowly regained his senses. "It's been over a year since I've seen Ginny and her Mirror is just as beautiful." He then adjusted his face properly.

A little more upbeat, Lily stepped onto the porch. She let the noise from the tents, the clashing of swords, and bangs of spells fill her ears.

Harry walked first with a small spring in his step. Thank you, Ginny, she thought.

Muggle Newspapers littered the yard and Wizard Newspapers from Europe as well. Lily spotted Mr and Mrs Delacour sipping coffee as they read the afternoon edition of the French newspaper, Voyant.

"Is there any news from France?"

"Ah, Mrs Potter, oui, there was an attack in Dissumule Rue 'dis morning between Death Eaters and Grindelwald supporters. A store was raided and a shop owner died in ze attack. But most of ze Newspaper is concerned about England," Mrs Delacour answered.

"Must have been an intense fight," Harry replied with a deadpan expression on his face.

"Mrs Potter, what do you think of Grindelwald?" Mr Delacour asked.

"I'm not sure." Then she thought about James being forced to do things for him.

"He seems to be intercepting Death Eater missions lately. Wherever the Death Eaters are, so is Grindelwald. If Death Eaters attempt to abduct children, Grindelwald's men stop the act. I find him interesting."

Behind Lily, Harry coughed, voicing his disapproval.

Mrs Delacour raised an eyebrow. "You are not thinking of joining him, are you?" Her husband tittered in response.

Lily frowned. What if Grindelwald was doing it all, not to help Dumbledore, but to gain the peoples trust before swiping the rug from beneath their feet?

"Let's get going," Harry said.

It was getting dark and after a quick goodbye to the Delacours, they were off again. She decided to take a shortcut through a tight wad of tents, where people were starting to cook dinner.

A few tents in, she turned at a luridly coloured pink tent with a balcony attached, and a bougainvillea growing over it. However, Lily stopped, wide-eyed, not daring to believe it.

In front of her, in the dark, a blonde witch and a tall black-haired wizard with glasses were whispering.

"Oh…" Harry realised, bumping into Lily.

James was holding Imogen's hand and let go suddenly. "It's not what it looks like," he said in a hurry.

Imogen wiped her wet cheeks on the sleeve of her expensive robes, and turned her back to Lily.

"Isn't that what they all say?" Lily hissed. She stormed in the other direction, while Harry took a moment to stare.

"Lily—LILY—stop!" James grabbed her arm.

She forced herself loose. "Don't touch me!"

He breathed deeply, growing paler by the second. "You don't understand, Lily, her husband is hurt—"

"So she slithered back into your arms, is that it?"

"That's not fair." James backed away. "She didn't. She doesn't know what to do, and I'm her only friend here."

"Friend, are you sure that's all she is?" Lily scoffed. "And why is she here? You told me she was staying at a relat—"

"That relative was killed in an attack days ago. They came here." James slumped, looking defeated. "Nothing was going to happen," he whispered. "I was telling her she needed to see a Healer. She's got broken ribs. I'm sure Derwent did it, because she was fine when we escorted them here."

Lily hid her surprise. She knew Imogen's husband was a horribly controlling man, but never to this extent. Still, she didn't have a caring bone in her body for that woman. None at all!

Harry had followed and now seemed worried. Lily cringed, knowing that Michael would be wondering what was unfolding.

The last thing she wanted was for news to get out and rumours to stir, not only about them, but also putting Imogen in even more danger. And I thought you didn't care!

She sighed and squeezed James's hand, startling him. It took a great deal of self control to hide her feelings, then to smile, as though everything was bright and lovely in her life.

"Take her to a Healer," she said, the words struggling to escape.

He nodded, looking slightly confused at her change of tact. He wrapped his arms around her stiff body, kissing her cheek. "I love you, Lily. Never forget that. Everything's fine."

His words bounced off without penetrating her doubt. "We have to go," she mumbled, prising herself loose. "Henry needs to prepare."

"He… He's going to do it?" He looked past Lily to his Mirror son, an expression mingled with worry, shame and awe was on his face. "Merlin, he shouldn't—"

"He's made up his mind. James, take Imogen to a Healer." She saw the woman covering her face with her cloak, although it didn't hide her bruises.

"Thank you." He rushed back to the witch.

Is this all a stupid dream? She thought.

"Mum what was that about?"

"It was nothing, sweetheart." She forced a smile, although Harry appeared to be unconvinced. He was still staring at the woman as James coaxed her out of hiding.

Lily changed direction again, feeling sick to her stomach. She needed to get far away from the Order, and from her fear and doubts.

"Was that her?" Harry asked quietly, catching up to her quick strides.

She could only nod back, afraid that if she was to say a word, she might bawl her eyes out.

(******)

As they briskly walked to Remus's, Michael kept whispering about the incident. "Who was that woman? I mean the way Mum spoke to Dad—the way that Dad was holding that woman's arm."

Harry stopped him. "Don't worry about it."

"Didn't it seem like—"

"Just give it up," Harry snapped. "I've got more important things to worry about than your parents having a row!"

The boy gaped back. "I thought you were better than Harry. Obviously you're just as much of a prat as he is!"

The boy stormed off, leaving Harry alone to contemplate his words.

Remus was so happy to see them. He was about to welcome them in when Ashley ducked under his arm.

"HA-ENRY!" she yelled, hugging Harry tight.

They had visitors.

Tony squeezed past Remus. His arms crossed tight, he seemed a little upset with him. "I wish you told me, I would've wanted to come too. And it would've been better than cleaning the shed all day."

Harry's suddenly wanted to get away from everyone. "You've been through so much. I just want the both of you to be happy and to enjoy normality. I wish I could."

"Jessica and Chris are here for dinner. They don't know about you, so keep pretending you're Henry," Remus ordered in a hushed voice. "Is everything all right, Lily?"

She managed to say, yes, in a rather squeaky voice. "You look terrible by the way."

"Didn't you know my alter ego likes the full moon?" He looked up at the misty sky. "It's due out soon."

They quietly made their way into the kitchen where Jessica sat quietly, chewing her food, staring at nothing. She stroked her doll's hair, as she hummed to herself.

"Hullo," the little girl said, blinking slowly at Harry. Her white eyes were like cloudy crystal balls. "What's your name?"

He smiled and looked into her creepy eyes, wondering if he could see anything. However, he couldn't find any critical information, except that Jessica liked cats and dolls. He made note of that.

"I'm Henry… Do you like cats, Jessica?"

"Oh yes, yes I do," she replied stonily. "Harry used to have a cat named Milly. I loved her."

(******)

After dinner, Harry decided to contact his mirror. He felt uneasy and troubled… and maybe scared.

His heart was beating frantically at the thought of entering Hogwarts, especially since he would be accompanied by a Death Eater. Could he trust Emily with his secret? She's done all right so far, he told himself.

He was stunned to find Ron in the bedroom, ready to go. He slung a backpack over his shoulder, and was holding onto his invisibility cloak and a map.

"I should be back before dawn, I hope," Ron mumbled, checking his watch. "I'm leaving in twenty minutes. Dumbledore said I have to meet a band of Grindelwald supporters in Cork, then from there on, who knows."

Harry gulped, feeling a little knot form in his throat. He distracted his thoughts by retrieving the Portkey book, and his little pouch. He stared at the piece of broken mirror, the destroyed locket, and then felt the coolness of the snitch in his hand.

"What are you thinking of?" Ron mused, twiddling his thumbs. He looked just as nervous as Harry was.

Harry held on tight to the snitch. "Staring into Voldemort's eyes and you?"

"Facing Grindelwald…"

"Want to swap?"

Ron laughed. "I'll take my chances with Grindelwald, thanks. You'll be fine. Just promise me you'll come back."

The door suddenly creaked open on its own. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Is that you Michael?"

Ron swung his arm in the air, suddenly hitting something solid and invisible.

"OW! Shit."

"Almost," Ron yanked off the cloak off, "pulled it off. You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

"Ron, I want to come with you, please. It'll be fun."

"Fun? I think your idea of fun is delusional. I won't let you come, not unless you tell your mum—"

"Fuck off, I'm not."

"Do you have a death wish?" asked Harry.

Michael sighed, dropping his weight onto the bed. "I want to—"

"—Help again." Ron snorted. "Look, Dumbledore thought you'd follow me. Are you ready?" The boy nodded, his face brightening up. "Let's go, preferably before your mum shows up."

"Good luck," Harry told them both.

Ron smiled. "Same to you, mate."

Harry didn't see them again after that. He continued clutching the Snitch, and it took a great deal of energy to place it back in the pouch again. However, instead of hiding his belongings, he placed them neatly on his bed stand, ready for his return.

He lay down, plucked the book and huddled it close to his chest. It was cold and its leather smooth. Harry traced his finger along the groves of the gold title and then he tried to open it. It still wouldn't budge.

Three drops of blood, and I'm home, he thought. So easy and simple, he could do it right now.

Sleep claimed him instantly and upon opening his eyes, he saw his Mirror.

Harry switched the lamp on. "You didn't need to possess me—"

"I needed to give Grindelwald that message. We need that dagger without his interference."

"How much do you see through our connection?"

"A lot... too much sometimes." He made his way around the bed then sat in the armchair Harry had found solace during his recovery.

Harry bit his lip. "What happened when Voldemort made you into a Horcrux?"

Thinking, the Mirror rested his head in his hand and rubbed his temple. "Whatever I did to his soul wasn't my original intention. I wanted to destroy him, kill him, escape and find the cup." He stared at Harry. "It didn't work according to plan."

"But you still managed to destroy Voldemort's power."

"Yes," he agreed. "When he prepared his soul to make a Horcrux, the final act of the ritual renders his entire soul—broken pieces or whole—vulnerable, naked, to outside forces."

Harry was slightly confused.

"A soul is tethered to a living being and protected. Only in death is that soul free to roam outside the protection of the body and go wherever souls go. And only the power of a Dementor can manipulate its protection and destroy it."

Harry realised that there was so much he didn't know about their magical world.

"The final part of the Horcrux ritual peels away the protection of the body and leaves the soul open to any attack. My master didn't realise this, not many people do. So I took advantage. I attacked his soul, hoping to kill it, but just ended up only destroying the ability for his soul to heal after each ritual."

"Why didn't your original plan work?"

"Fear got in the way…" The Mirror shrugged. "I knew trying to destroy a soul is the darkest of all magic. It would've destroyed me as well."

"Do you still consider Voldemort as your master?"

"He never was," he replied. "Does Snape still?"

"But you got yourself so absorbed in the Dark Arts—"

"I've told you everything—showed you my secrets."

"I know, but—"

"It was hard trying to escape the effects of the locket and my Dark phase." Then he added, "For awhile I needed a wand to do Dark magic, because I doubted myself becoming Dark. My ability was weaker at the thought of intentionally harming a person. Torture got easier and I began to enjoy it. I guess, after Greyback… I liked the control I had. Once the locket was around my neck, it made it a hundred times worse."

"You still let the phase take over."

"I'm guilty as charged. I'm powerful, brilliant. But I knew it was wrong and I didn't care anymore. I turned evil and stupid."

"So can you blame Dumbledore for what he did?"

"A Death Eater who doesn't follow orders is killed. I had to do it."

"You had a choice!" A horrible choice, he admitted to himself.

The Mirror chuckled darkly. "You've seen what choices have done to me. I was used by both sides of the war. The only true choice I had was death and even that has been taken away from me."

"Sure Voldemort might've died by your hand, then what? Would you have gone back home, be the same loving son your mother wants back? Gone back to school, become an Auror?"

The Mirror closed his eyes. "No."

"So, I ask you, if you were in Dumbledore's position—and he knew what you were turning into—what would you have done?"

"That locket made it worse—"

"So you said. Even if you destroyed the locket that night, what would've happened?"

"HE SHOULD'VE KEPT HIS FUCKING MOUTH SHUT!" The Mirror shouted with so much rage. "I gave up my life for him. I did everything he told me to do. HE ABANDONED ME!"

"—He tried to help you—!"

"He knew there would be no turning back the moment I became a Death Eater. I was so close to destroying them all and HE RUINED IT!"

"WHAT WOULD'VE HAPPENED TO YOU?"

He vanished, leaving Harry in the dark with his ears still ringing from his Mirror's shouts.

But a gleaming mirror appeared where the bedroom door usually was. Harry jumped out of bed, and plunged through it.

He was in a dark cave. His Mirror sat cross legged, with his wand blazing in warm light.

"I can't stay long." Malfoy opened up his bag and began pulling out supplies.

"How is he?"

"They're not sure if he'll make it. He kept mumbling about you, and that you needed to be kept away from everyone."

"What the hell does he think I'll do?" Mirror Harry said scathingly.

"He says you're a danger to everyone, and that you need to be defeated before you become stronger."

The Mirror's jaw clenched. "Are you sure he wasn't getting confused with Voldemort?"

"I asked him, and he kept saying your name." Malfoy shook his head. "He wanted me to bring you back and have you imprisoned at Hogwarts, where your power would be suppressed."

"Dumbledore can't stop me! He doesn't have the stomach to use Dark magic."

"Look, don't worry, Snape said his memories don't stay long. He's hallucinating. Besides, do you think I'm going to trick you into coming back?"

"I don't trust anyone."

"I'm heartbroken," Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Is there any other news?"

"I've destroyed the locket," Malfoy said. "Maybe now you can start feeling yourself again—"

"It's too late for that, Draco. I like the way I am. I want to do so much more."

"What?"

"There's a small group of Mages living in Columbia, pretending to be Muggle shamans. I might head there."

"You told me they kill people! Muggles pay them to destroy their enemies by absorbing their lives."

"So?" he shrugged. "It makes them more powerful, more feared. I could lead them—"

"To do what?" Malfoy laughed. "If that's what you want to do," he stood up, staring down at the Mirror, "can you honestly hate Dumbledore for betraying you?"

"He should've helped me. Instead he left me to rot as a Death Eater."

"You are delusional!" Malfoy snapped, and before the Mirror could interject he added, "Dumbledore did—but you turned him away. Since Christmas he's believed I could do it for him. So he's distanced himself, in hope he wouldn't lose you."

"I didn't turn him away—"

"Harry, he spent months trying to get information from you!"

"I gave him information—"

"Not about the fucking Horcruxes, about you!" Malfoy flushed pink. "From what I've gathered, ever since Greyback, you don't want to confide in anyone. Everything you've done since has destroyed you. So how could he help you, when you didn't want his support?"

"He should've tried more…"

Malfoy scoffed, exasperated. "But we all know you would've pushed back harder."

Mirror Harry stiffened up. "What did you tell him about me?"

"He knows something's tipped you over the edge. That much I told him. Besides, it won't fix anything now."

"Do you think there's no turning back for me then?"

Malfoy fell silent for a moment and then said, "yeah."

"If only you knew what I would've done if Dumbledore hadn't betrayed—"

"Are you going to tell me? Oh, do you want me to beg? Please Harry, please tell me. I'll forever kiss your arse!" he mocked.

"Fuck you!"

Malfoy crouched down and jabbed a finger into the Mirror's chest. "You think you're holier than thou for sacrificing yourself, for keeping secrets from everyone, about how you've been through hell, but really you're good? Is that what you're keeping from me?"

"Just leave before you regret it," the Mirror hissed.

Another mirror appeared, and hungry for more information, Harry rushed through it.

The Mirror knelt on the ground by Voldemort's feet. It was the same night as the memory of Malfoy and Emily visiting him. Harry heard the jovial laughs and the tinkling of glasses and plates somewhere in the dining room below.

In this memory, his Mirror was dressed in fine dark robes, though his hands were chained together and a heavy iron collar remained around his neck.

Voldemort circled him. "You have plenty of fight left in you." He shook his head. "I'm disappointed."

"So I guess this means you'll have to kill me?"

Voldemort laughed coldly. "It would be too easy. However, killing you would not satisfy me anymore. I want..." He suddenly grasped the Mirror's face with his long fingers, his long nails piercing his skin. "I want you to suffer, to break—"

"Just when I thought I'd been through enough—"

"Your impertinence doesn't amuse me," he scowled. "I want you to know that you belong to m—"

The Mirror spat into his face.

Voldemort retaliated by back handing him, making him fall. Trembling slightly, he sat back up, wiping blood away from his lip.

Voldemort laughed, seeing that murderous look on his Mirror's face. "It's over, Harry. Just give up."

He circled the Elder Wand, creating a sort of green and white ribbon of blinding light.

"No!" The Mirror was stunned, scuttling backwards. "You don't mean to make me…?"

"Oh yes." Voldemort's eyes glowed red. "To conquer you would be one of my greatest accomplishments so far. This will break you."

Harry had never seen his mirror so terrified.

"Who-who did you kill?" the Mirror asked.

"A Death Eater who had betrayed me." Voldemort laughed at the irony.

The Mirror clenched his hands and steadied his breathes. "So, so this is how the ritual begins?"

The Dark Lord cocked his head. "There are three parts to the Horcrux ritual. First, it is the preparation of the fracturing of the soul, then the death. The third is the stimulation and transportation of the soul into the object."

The Mirror raised an eyebrow. Although still very scared, he boy was thinking of a plan. "I've always wondered…"

Harry noticed that in the unearthly light of Voldemort's wand, his Mirror looked smaller and vulnerable. He took a deep breath, finally giving in to defeat.

Or had he? Harry noticed a dark ripple shimmering around the Mirror's body. Harry instinctively knew his Mirror was testing the powerful Dark charms in the room.

As Voldemort concentrated on his spell, Mirror Harry found a weakness in the magic. Though he was unable to escape, he created other magic with his hands, abusing the flaw. It was a sort of blue haze, so translucent, it was almost invisible.

Voldemort was reciting an incantation; each foreign word creating a burst of green and white light from his wand. The light began to circle his body, speeding up. He didn't notice that the Mirror's spell, the same blue light, was intermingling with the green and white.

Then he opened his mouth wide and the light entered his mouth and disappeared into his body.

When the light disappeared, they were bathed in semi-darkness once more. The fire in the grate crackled and hissed, but its light didn't compare to the spell's awesomeness.

"Are you ready, Harry, to be my prisoner forever?'

The Mirror opened his eyes, his green eyes unusually bright. "Ready as I'll ever be. And I'd be assuming that you'd want a perfect seven Horcruxes again?"

"I was thinking of it."

"Well, seven is a powerful number…"

Voldemort cocked his head again, judging the boy. "Yes," he smirked, "Harry, you'll be the start of my new ones. Now, rise."

The boy stood, looking for any escape route, however, this made Voldemort laugh. "You cannot escape. The goblins have added the magic in this room and house."

"Are you sure?"

Voldemort sneered, taking hold of the boy's head with a hand, while the other forced his mouth open. "I am quite sure!"

Harry cringed as Voldemort leaned in, looking as though he was about to kiss his Mirror. But a white light erupted from his mouth, and Harry realised it was the piece of his soul. It was sort of like the reverse of a Dementor's kiss.

The Mirror yelled as he struggled against Voldemort's grip. He tried desperately to push him away as the soul entered his mouth, but at the same time, the same blue light was exiting the Mirror's mouth and into Voldemort's.

The Mirror screamed in agony. And then finally, when both the white and blue light vanished and the piece of soul was deeply wedged in his body, Voldemort let go, letting the boy fall to the floor. The Dark Lord himself, faltered, clutching his chest.

The boy looked up, panting and in pain and they both stared at each other for a moment.

A mirror appeared where the fireplace would've been. Harry ran through it and was suddenly in a moving train carriage of the Hogwarts Express.

Except Mirror Harry and Malfoy were the only students on board. Most of the train was empty, bar for a few witches and wizards travelling to Hogsmeade.

Pale and exhausted, the boy rested on the carriage bench with a cloak strewn over him. But he was awake. "Is he going to lock me away?" he croaked.

"I told you, Harry, he doesn't remember much. He still thinks you've been on a mission in Albania. But he wants you back and he's going to help you through your Dark phase."

The Mirror grunted into his cloak.

"We haven't spoken much about Dumbledore's defeat." A crease appeared on Malfoy's brow. "I'm sorry about telling Dumbledore about the cup—"

"I don't blame you."

"He should've given me up instead."

"Malfoy, shut up. You're talking nonsense now. Voldemort would've tortured and killed us anyway. I was going to get me and Dumbledore out—the Dark Lord still believed his Horcruxes hadn't been destroyed, just stolen—I was going to call it quits on the cup and let—"

"You left me there!" Malfoy retaliated.

"You idiot, you were safe and so were your parents when Dumbledore revealed me as the traitor. Wouldn't it have looked suspicious if I rescued you as well?"

Malfoy realised the ramifications. "Oh."

"Yeah… Oh," he huffed. "I wanted you to remain as close as possible to the Dark Lord, so that you could eventually get the cup."

"He was hiding the cup on him."

"It was a bluff."

Malfoy turned white. "I don't think I—"

"Yes you can. You're braver than you think you are, Draco. And Dumbledore has more faith in you than in me."

"Harry, he cares about—"

"Dumbledore wants me controlled now. He knows how dangerous I've become. I realise that now." His words reeked of hurt and disappointment. "If he cared about me, he wouldn't have given me up... he should have died. I'll never forgive Dumbledore for losing his faith in me."

"Harry," Malfoy drawled. "Be honest with me. When this war is over what will you do?"

There was a dark glint in the Mirror's eye and goosebumps suddenly prickled all over Harry's skin.

"We'd advance my power."

We? Thought Harry. The Horcrux.

"Are you serious?" Malfoy questioned in stunned disbelief. "I thought the conditioning changed you. You said you didn't want to give in to power ever again!"

"It did change me, but not in the way you'd expect."

Malfoy's eyes widened. "He—he made you into a Horcrux? Is—is the Dark Lord listening to us?"

The Mirror shook his head and Malfoy relaxed. "Harry, you really need Dumbledore's help—"

"The only cure is death and you took that away from me!" The Mirror rose up on the bench, letting the cloak slide off his gaunt body. "Say a word, Draco, I dare you," he goaded.

Harry woke up, not feeling at peace. He felt more grief and a sense of loss towards his Mirror and Dumbledore. If everything had gone according to his Mirror's plans, perhaps Malfoy would've succeeded in getting the cup on his own, perhaps the war would've been over by now, and perhaps Mirror Harry would be out there somewhere, increasing his power… or maybe he would've changed for the better with the support of Dumbledore and his family. So many what ifs… so many chances. It could have gone either way.

"Harry, just let it go. Dumbledore's made mistakes, but he was right to worry about you. You've made some big mistakes too. It's time to move on."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, so sick of thinking about his Mirror and Dumbledore. He turned his thoughts onto the impending mission, feeling more scared than he was before.

He took a deep steadying breath. Get a grip, he thought mercilessly.

Harry had faced Voldemort before, fought Death Eaters and survived, but he realised in those instances, he never had a choice, never knew he'd be facing death hours before. Harry now had the opportunity to plan for it, and he didn't like it. He rather it hit him like a big surprise.

"Harry," Ashley called from the doorway, "there's a weird bowl that's arrived from Dumbledore, and it's in the kitchen."

"I'm coming."

"Hey, have you seen Tony?"

"He said he was going to finish cleaning the shed before the moon is up."

"Oh yeah…" the girl agreed. "I was supposed to help, but—"

"But you'd rather draw and paint?" Harry smiled.

She giggled, and skipped off without another word.

He went downstairs to discover the Pensieve, sitting innocently on the kitchen table. Its shimmery silver light glowed in the cold darkness of the kitchen as Harry pulled it towards him.

He pointed his wand at his temple, just like he had seen Dumbledore do. A rush of memories suddenly sprung to mind about his life back home. Harry pulled his head away and the memory snapped, waving in the air briefly like a broken spider web. He carefully deposited it into the Pensieve.

What the hell am I doing?

He removed as many memories as possible, until he could vaguely remember that he was from somewhere else, but wasn't sure where that place was.

When the front door clanged shut, Harry knew it was Lily. He heard her shouting at Remus.

"I find him gone… what do you mean he'd gone off with Ron…? I swear to God, I'm going to murder him!"

Remus said something softly, but this didn't appease her.

"He's so damn stubborn! He's just a boy."

She sounded like Mrs Weasley. Then again, Harry realised, most mothers would worry like Molly.

"Well, he's not the sort to be cooped up," Remus said.

Harry quickly hid the Pensieve in his bedroom and when he returned he found Lily pacing up and down the kitchen, angry, holding onto a bottle of what looked like Wolfsbane.

"He'll be safe with Ron," Harry said, gingerly.

He had always been in the line of fire at the Dursleys, but he treaded carefully with his Mirror mother. There was something almost untouchable about her, and he didn't want to destroy that image of her being a wonderful, kind, and beautiful angel. Not someone who was now looking like a harpy ready to swoop down and punish him if he did something wrong.

"It was one thing for Harry to keep disappearing on us, but I can't handle it again." Lily gulped, holding back tears. "I just feel as though it's happening again. I don't want Michael to do this."

"Lily, he isn't a Death Eater. He's with Ron, and they've gone to bring back the dagger."

She burst into tears and Remus patted her shoulder. "Want a cup of my special tea, Lils?"

"Sure, but don't put so much in, I was more than tipsy the last time."

Ashley walked in and plonked her drawing book and pencils on the table as Remus waved his wand, setting the kettle to work, before depositing heavily onto the chair, He stared at the clock. "I should go in the basement soon—hang on—where's Tony?"

Ashley tore her eyes away from drawing a house. "In the shed."

"He's not in the shed. I checked." Remus pursed his lips and struggled out of the chair, although Harry had a bad feeling that the boy had wandered off with Ron and Michael.

His ominous prediction was right when they all returned worried and exasperated after searching every spot of the property.

Lily covered her eyes and sighed. "He's only twelve."

"He's twelve and he knows the Dark Arts," Remus added.

Harry felt terrible. It was fine to let Michael go off in search of the dagger, but he knew Tony a lot more, and felt more responsible for him.

"But… but…" Tears formed in Ashley's eyes. "He can't leave without me."

"You're staying put," Remus commanded. "They'll be back soon and I'm going to have a stern word with your brother."

The girl pouted and suddenly went very quiet.

"There's enough doom and gloom to be worrying about," Remus said, before drinking the Wolfsbane Potion. "I'll have one more look of the shed just in case." He then left Lily and Harry alone.

Harry couldn't speak; he didn't want to think about the mission. Lily touched his cheek and he felt her warm touch.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered. Lily kissed his head, and Harry had an ache, a desperate longing for his real mother.

"Just remember, I'm your Mirror mother. I love you."

"Thanks… that means so much to me," he said. His throat was very dry. He wanted to shatter the burgeoning tension in his chest. "Anything you want to say about Jessica?"

"Just be quiet and she usually stares without realising her surroundings. Don't start speaking in rational sentences. This you mustn't do. She's very cryptic sometimes."

She pulled out a glass vial containing strands of black hair, placing it carefully on the table. It sat there, and they stared at it in silence as they waited for Dumbledore and Emily to arrive.

"Are you going to Polyjuice yourself into a girl, Harry?" Ashley asked, still looking glum. "That's funny."

Harry wished it was funny.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lily questioned.

He snorted, unable to turn his eyes away from the black hair. "Of course I don't. But it has to be done."

"Thank you," she whispered. "Harry, about seeing James—"

But her words were cut when Dumbledore arrived. He emerged first, then Emily, who was holding onto a bundle of black robes, which she deposited on the table.

"Death Eater robes, Harry," Dumbledore replied as Remus returned back with no Tony in sight. "You should also shrink them to size once you are Polyjuiced and change its colour. Just make sure they return to size if you suddenly change."

"I not sure of the spell for that sort—"

"You are a Mage," Dumbledore said, peering over his spectacles. "A simple thought will do the trick."

"It's easy to forget sometimes," Harry mumbled, taking the robes.

He quickly pulled them on as Dumbledore swilled a green potion in a goblet, holding a few of Jessica's hairs in the air.

"Unfortunately you cannot bring an extra supply of Polyjuice as you will both be searched twice upon arrival at Hogwarts. If you were to change, I want you to blend in."

"If you do change," Emily cleared her throat, "your name is William. William Brunswick. If you're caught without any disguise, say you were Polyjuiced to look like Harry."

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, confused. "Wouldn't the Death Eaters find that suspicious—?"

They looked all looked each other darkly, before the girl answered. "There are some Death Eaters who hate you for being the Dark Lord's favourite. They will occasionally Polyjuice a Muggle-born to look like you and torture them as your effigy. It's all hushed up though, but it's a known secret amongst the Conditioned and the prisoners."

Harry was beyond disgusted, but he knew one of those Death Eaters doing it would've been Bellatrix. "William…" He was rather nervous now.

Dumbledore placed a strand of hair gently into the potion and it instantly turned a shade of white, just like the girl's eyes, before he handed it to Harry.

With shaking hands, and feeling a little sick, he brought it to his lips. "Bottoms up," he said blackly.

He drank it without taking in a breath, and fell into the chair feeling queasier than before. His stomach was grumbling and he wanted to retch. Then the changes started to occur, Harry felt his world change around him, he felt as though he was shrinking, his clothes loosened, and his hair grew longer. His hands shrank. His eyes… Harry could only see fog and vague outlines of people.

He gasped. He was not used to this sort of vision.

Lily crouched down. "Are you okay?" Harry could barely see her. Though the closer she got, the better he could see.

He blinked repeatedly. "I'm fine—!" he squeaked. He closed his mouth, surprised that his voice was all childlike. Oh God, this is weird, he thought.

His Death Eater robes were pooled around his tiny shoulders, but he touched the cloth, shrinking and changing their colour to blue, with the instruction to turn into Death Eaters robes when his disguise wore off.

Harry had trouble adjusting to Jessica's foggy eyesight. "I can't see what I'm doing," he told everyone.

"It's okay, I'll be guiding you," Emily said.

"And Jessica can see better in darkness," Lily added.

The room was in total silence now as Harry looked their faces. It felt strange that everyone was taller than he was. It was hard to believe he looked like a child.

Emily's warm hand found Harry's and she squeezed tight, reassuring him that she was taking charge now.

38. Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

With a small pop, Harry and Emily appeared at a Death Eater Apparating point in Hogsmeade.

Months ago, it wouldn't have been possible for a non-Death Eater to arrive without Voldemort being alerted. However, Grindelwald had removed those spells and placed a curse, so that anyone who attempted to place an Impostor Alarm in Hogsmeade, would die a horrible death. Unfortunately, the protection at Hogwarts and its surrounds still remained impenetrable and they had to navigate through that.

"Are you sure I can get through to Hogwarts without being a Death Eater?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, only if you are in the presence of a Death Eater."

Harry's eyesight was much better in the darkness, and they trudged up the road towards Hogwarts, he saw the carnage that was once a quaint, exciting little town of Hogsmeade. Now it was filled with decay, violent pubs and brothels. Many of the shops were closed and it was strangely quiet.

"Where are all the Death Eaters?"

"They've all been ordered to stay at Hogwarts—and don't talk."

He saw something stalk in the shadows of an alleyway. He stopped, forcing Emily to look. He saw it again, it was a flicker of a cloak, and whoever it was, was watching them.

Then the dark stranger made himself known: a goblin. He put a gnarled finger to his lips before disappearing into total darkness. Harry looked around at all the other dark spots. Sure enough, there were more of them. They slipped out of the darkness to show them that they were there.

"What are they up to?"

"I said no talking!"

Harry soon learned that there was nothing shy about Emily. She was abrupt, and snarky, just like Snape. He knew asking her questions would've silently grated her nerves.

As they continued up the path, the mist swirled furiously around them. The cold seemed ten times worse here than at Remus's.

Harry suddenly heard a familiar laughter, and whipped around. Brode's chilling chuckle made his hair stand on end. There were Dementors lurking somewhere, feasting.

"I feel them too." Emily shivered. "They're allowed to live in the Forbidden Forest as long as they don't harm the Death Eaters. Giants and other dangerous creatures live in there as well."

Emily rectified the situation by creating a Patronus of a piglet. It sniffed at their legs with its glowing white snout, before trotting along side them.

"Come on, we're wasting time."

"I must reiterate this," Dumbledore said sternly. "The Polyjuice lasts for three hours in this world, but do not be complacent with time. I want you two in and out as quickly as possible."

"Are you ready?" Emily asked as they approached the boundary of Hogwarts. Harry nodded. They changed paths, this time up a larger cobbled path where the thestrals would take the students to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade station.

The mist was still thick around them, but every now and again there was a small clearing, and now, he finally saw the dark turrets.

The almost full moon made a tiny appearance, before the clouds and the mist moved back in again. Harry thought about Remus stuck in the basement, but his thoughts vanished as they approached the Hogwarts gate, where there was a long queue of Death Eaters, waiting to enter.

"What's going on?" Emily huffed.

"Security enchantments are down," a Death Eater in the line grunted. "One of the idiots guarding the gate broke it."

A short-haired witch next to him laughed. "With riff raff like these plaguing our ranks, no wonder we haven't won the war yet."

"Well do you think half the Ministry workers Death Eaters are on our side?"

"Shhhh, don't talk nonsense!" another in the line, growled.

Emily was growing agitated and rightfully so. Her quiet resolve was starting to crack under the pressure. It sort of made her more human, he thought.

It took them another twenty minutes before they were manually assessed but he wasn't worried about that. "Originally, we were going to attempt this mission before dawn, but it was better to do it tonight when we have our own people guarding the gate," Dumbledore said.

He was far more worried about the time. Forty minutes down the drain…

"Evening, Miles," drawled Daphne Greengrass, who happened to be guarding the gate. She twirled over wand over Emily's head. "All clear," she announced, registering her name.

"Hello there," said a rather familiar voice. It was Dean Thomas. He twirled his wand over Harry as Greengrass had done. A benign blue light covered Harry, tickling him. "All clear."

Then Emily grabbed the back of his robes, yanking him onwards. As they passed the Hogwarts gate, Emily hastened her pace. Her tightening grip on Harry's hand had become clammy and slippery with each step she took.

"Quickly now."

Harry stumbled and tripped as Emily, in a rather hurry, did not take into account of his smaller legs, and almost blindness.

There were Death Eaters stationed at the stop of the battlements, watching everyone who entered. But everywhere on the walls, there were sconces blazing with light and this obscured Harry's vision again.

Even in his semi blindness, he could not mistake the nine bodies impaled on long stakes, right outside the main door of Hogwarts. He covered his mouth from the stench of rotting bodies, and could hear a couple of sleepless ravens feeding on their flesh.

"Executed Death Eaters," Emily explained. "They were thought to have let a few hundred Ministry workers escape the massacre—oh, for Merlin's sake!" she spat. There was another long line outside the castle doors.

A Death Eater behind them felt the same way too. "There are still a lot of Death Eaters returning from the Muggle takeover, but this is ridiculous."

Harry felt the tension clearly like a bleeding cut. By the time they would get through the second security point, they would've wasted half the Polyjuice time trying to enter Hogwarts.

They approached the security point, just inside the entrance.

"Alrigh' dere', Miles?" a toothless Death Eater guard asked.

On either side of them there was a long table with guards checking each person entering the castle.

The Death Eater crouched down to Harry's level. "Oo've we go' ere, eh?" The wizard suddenly pinched his cheek and patted his head. He smelt like acrid smoke and dirt.

"I'm taking her to the Dark Lord, Crawley," Emily said curtly, covering Harry's head with the hood of his cloak.

"Yer fine-ly conditioning, eh?"

"No, this one is for our master's business. Beside's she's a cripple. She'll be a useless as a flobberworm."

"Ahh, shame, she's a pretty brat—'cept for the eyes. Now, Miles turn out all yer pockets, and take off yer shoes and cloak. The same with the girl, an' don' forge' to spread yer arms."

They were crudely patted down after Emily took out several potion bottles, her wand, a knife, and a ball of string. She pulled off a small velvet pouch from her neck, and ten loose gleaming gold galleons. Crawley's partner, a tall and wiry wizard, fished through the objects Emily placed on the table.

They waved their wands over the things and uncorked the bottles. Crawley placed a drop of each potion onto a weird silver dish. A moment later there was a ding, and a piece of paper flew into the air. His partner caught it easily.

"We've never had this much security before," Emily observed, looking around.

"Eh, well, with da' Goblins wantin' revenge and the Order wantin' to infiltrate, we can't take any chances, eh?"

"All these potions are for healing," the tall wiry Death Eater grunted. "Snape taught you, didn't he? I bet he taught you to use your cunny well." They guffawed loudly.

Emily plucked the knife from the table and forced it down on to it, stabbing the table between the Death Eaters. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Lockerby, the last time I checked, I was your superior, so I'd be mindful what you say," she hissed. She pulled the knife out and it glinted dangerously in her hand.

The Death Eater grunted, bowing his head. "Only joking Ms."

"Er…" began Crawley, "What's in da' velvet bag, I can't opennit'?"

"Human blood for potion-making," Emily replied, shirtily. And Crawley placed the velvet pouch on the table without another question. "I haven't got all day to be standing—"

"What's taking so long?" a witch yelled behind them. "We're freezing here!"

"Da' wands?" snapped Crawley at his partner.

"The girl's wand is Holly and Phoenix. Mile's is Oak and Unicorn hair."

"Are we free to go now?"

A few more Death Eaters, who were rather rowdy and drunk, were coming in from a campsite near the lake to take their place in the queue. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy warty Hogwarts, teach us something please…" they sang, sloshing firewhiskey everywhere.

Emily turned her attention back to the guards. "Ah, excuse me, Crawley. I'll have my galleons back, thank you—all of them."

"Eh, I was givin' them back." The Death Eater shoved them into Emily's hand.

Finally free to move, she pulled Harry inwards into the castle depths.

He wished he could see a little more, but the light in the castle blinded him. He wanted to know what was happening around him, and how Hogwarts had changed under Voldemort's use.

There was nothing wrong with his hearing though. Harry heard chains moving and saw foggy visions of prisoners. Death Eaters whispered in every part they walked through, but mostly it was the sound of Harry's own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He did notice that all the paintings had been slashed to pieces, the suits of amours had been taken away, and now thick iron loops adorned the walls, so that prisoners could be restrained. There were no ghosts, no Peeves, and no sense of wonder anymore. There was just death, decay and horror.

They travelled up the main stairs and turned left, then left again into a darker corridor where Harry saw several chained prisoners scrubbing the floor hard under the watchful eye of two Death Eaters.

"Hello Draco… Pansy…" Emily said as they past them. "You two seem inseparable these days." Pansy scowled. Malfoy on the other hand, smirked.

"They were once together—" Emily whispered as they rounded a corner.

"The prisoners?" Harry squeaked. He didn't care about Pansy and Draco. He wanted to know the fate of the quiet, dirty prisoners scrubbing away.

"There are more in the dungeons—over a thousand in fact: Muggle-borns, Aurors and Order members and children to be processed, and then conditioned. The Healers and Ministry workers are littered about."

Emily paused briefly to greet a tiny old Death Eater. The Death Eater didn't even notice Harry's presence or the fact Emily was explaining things about Hogwarts to him. Perhaps it was normal for Death Eaters to speak openly with their captives.

"It's funny, you never realise the classrooms in the dungeons were once used as prison and torture chambers," she added when they moved again.

Harry gulped and just nodded, though in the back of his mind, he had never imagined the Hogwarts founders imprisoning people. Maybe he should read Hogwarts: A History, one day.

"There used to be over three thousand prisoners, but many didn't survive."

Every few steps or so, a Death Eater exchanged greetings with Emily. This made Harry very curious.

"Miles…"

Harry gasped lightly.

Emily stopped walking and bowed slightly. "Good evening, Mr Mulciber."

"You missed the celebrations, girl. It was better than the Ministry takeover, now that we have the Muggles."

"I know, but I was on a mission," Emily replied, rather monotonously.

He strutted forward, his Conditioned, a teenage boy, followed his every step. Mulciber looked down at Harry. "I see... is she to be your Conditioned?"

"That's for our master to decide," she answered.

"She looks like a Potter—"

"We need to go; the Dark Lord is expecting us." Emily brushed past them. Although, she made sure she lingered close to Mulciber's conditioned boy. "Goodbye."

Harry saw her exchange something with the boy. He guessed it was one of those galleons.

She hurried forward with Harry in toe, up a staircase, then delving into another deserted corridor. They hid behind a tapestry and she took a deep breath. She pulled down Harry's hood to check him over.

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered.

"I'm just making sure everything is okay. Polyjuice working—"

"—You're scared—"

"Don't be stupid," she scoffed at him. "I'm not!"

"Why does everyone greet you?"

Emily quickly peered out making sure the corridor was empty. "The Conditioned of senior Death Eaters are respected. They're honoured above all other Conditioned and the lower ranks."

"And how many of the Conditioned have the galleons?"

"Over three hundred. And there are many of the Ministry workers and Healers who are on our side."

"Can you trust them?"

"They've taken an Unbreakable Vow to work for Dumbledore and Snape."

It was like the darker version of Dumbledore's Army, he thought to himself.

"Don't smile, it's not like Jessica." Emily inhaled deeply, composing herself. "We've dawdled enough. Keep your mouth shut and no sounds. I'll do the talking."

Up an eternity of steps and winding corridors, they passed a few more senior Death Eaters, like Rosier, Goyle, Travers and even Kargokoff.

"See those Death Eaters?" Emily pointed. Harry saw a woman with long grey hair and a man with no hair at all talking in French. "Mr and Mrs Roux. If there's anyone worse than Bellatrix, Greyback and the Carrows, it's them. They're utterly depraved, the both of them. They like their victims very young, and they make the children's parents watch." She stopped talking and looked away when Julien Roux noticed them.

They ran down dilapidated wings, where owls had taken up residence, up secret stairs, while they tiptoed past corridors where senior Death Eaters were resting in their quarters.

Occasionally, they heard screaming prisoners being dragged into rooms against their will.

This time, however, it was happening in front of them. They stopped in the middle of the corridor and waited for a petrified prisoner to let go of the doorway. Death Eaters laughed as the witch did not want to let go.

Harry wondered how Emily didn't even flinch witnessing it.

She gripped onto Harry's hand so tight, that he couldn't feel his fingers anymore. It was as though she knew he would retaliate in any other given situation.

"PLEASE DON'T—LET ME GO!" the witch screamed.

All Harry wanted to do was to curse them all and rescue her.

"She's a strong bitch," one laughed at his conditioned girl. "I told you she'd be a good one to practice the Unforgivables on!"

It made Harry's blood boil. He almost pulled his wand out, when Emily suddenly thrust him into a small chamber. He stumbled against the back wall.

She closed the door, casting a Silencing Charm over the room. Then she pounced on him. She grabbed the front of his robes, making him stand on his toes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed into his face. "We're not here to rescue anyone—"

But Harry screeched back. "How can you let them do that?"

"Because I want to live!" she gritted. "Potter, you almost got us caught. I knew you'd do something stupid. Dumbledore said you think too much with your heart and not your head."

"Yeah well, maybe if Dumbledore thought with his heart a little more, he wouldn't have fucked me over."

Emily let go, backing away from him. "If we get caught, what you experienced in Azkaban will be nothing compared to what the Death Eaters will do. It'll be long and drawn out, do you understand?"

"How can you stand there calmly while Death Eaters torture people?"

"You get used to it."

"I wouldn't."

"You'd think differently after you've been conditioned. It was either life or death, and I chose life. So did your Mirror—"

"He didn't choose," Harry retaliated. "He wanted to die."

She moved forwards and gently readjusted his robes. "We've wasted time here… just don't fight back. You can't save everyone, and you'll never go home."

(******)

Emily dragged Harry down the corridor past the chamber where the witch was now screaming. He didn't know where he was going anymore, because all he thought about was that witch, his growing guilt, and wondering if she'd survive.

Up a spiral staircase flagged by two boars, it was then Harry realised he was right outside the Headmasters office, which was guarded by two Death Eaters, Voldemort's green-masked bodyguards.

The mission flooded back into his mind and he almost lost his nerve. He shook his head, suddenly wanting to run.

"No…"

Emily squeezed his hand, making all sense and bravery return.

Harry took a deep breath. You've faced him before and this time he isn't going to kill you.

When he was ready, Emily knocked three times. The door opened, but Harry froze, almost faltering. She tugged him forward.

His hand itched to grab hold of his wand. No, he told himself. This isn't your fight, this isn't your Voldemort.

The light in the room made it difficult to see properly, but he concentrated on Voldemort. He was heavily cloaked and sat behind the desk, as though he was the nightmarish version of a Hogwarts headmaster, with the Death Eaters his students.

Emily deposited Harry near the desk, and knelt, with her head bowed. "My Lord, I have brought you Jessica Potter."

"Finally," he hissed, getting up. "You've done well, Emily. Truly well…" He walked over. "You'll be rewarded."

He placed his long white fingers underneath her chin, making Emily look up at him.

"Was it difficult to get a hold of her?"

"Yes, my Lord, but my mother took me to Lily Potter this evening, despite Dumbledore telling her not to. She was so happy to have me back—Lily and my mother are close friends you see—I spiked their tea and made sure they slept and used a Confundus Charm on the other children. They won't know what happened when I return her."

"Good. I see a great future for you, Emily. You'll take the first pick out of the Bulgarian and Dutch students to condition. They have been brought here yesterday and are still determined to fight, but I have faith you will be successful with the one you pick."

"Thank you, my Lord. It has been my dream to train others."

Voldemort swelled with pride. "Good. We are in desperate need of more potion masters. Now, wait outside. I want to speak with the girl alone."

"My Lord, may I ask what is to happen to my Mentor?"

"He'll live," he replied, dismissing her.

She left and suddenly the silence felt deadly and crushing. The fire in the hearth crackled merrily, but there was no warmth in the room. Harry shivered with cold and dread.

Every second that Voldemort stood observing him felt like an eternity. He held his anxiousness at bay, wondering if Voldemort was searching for weakness, for Harry to break and reveal that he was really a fraud. Then finally, slowly, Voldemort circled him.

Harry was almost too frightened to move, too worried that a sound or a twitch might betray who he truly was.

Voldemort knelt down, as a concerned father would when he wanted to speak with his child. He suddenly gripped Harry's shoulders, and Harry found himself forcing every inch of his body not to flinch.

Within the foggy, white eyesight, he could make out the red eyes boring into his. He felt Voldemort pushing into his mind and all Harry showed him were things Jessica only thought of. Pretty dolls… and fluffy kittens… he kept repeating to himself.

"Jessica…" Voldemort cocked his head this way and that, his words barely a whisper.

Pretty dolls…

"It looks like your brother Harry has damaged your mind."

And fluffy kittens…

"But, I think you are still marginally tethered to my control, albeit, not true control until my power returns. Imperio," he muttered.

Harry felt a sensation of peace prevail over him with a dull sense of happiness. He could hear Voldemort telling him to bow. Why should I? I really don't want to.

"Jessica, bow."

"No…"

"BOW!"

You have to. You need to pretend you've really been Imperioused! Harry bowed against his inner mind's protest.

Voldemort quickly removed the curse, and knelt down again. But he did not seem satisfied. He examined Harry, not daring to look away.

Pretty dolls… and… fluffy kittens…

"No, your mind is too damaged to be under the Imperious Curse for long periods. You're resisting me… I think it will be detrimental to you." He stood up. "I need you alive long enough to find what I want," Voldemort said softly, brushing the black fringe from Harry's eyes.

Again, he controlled the urge to curse Voldemort.

"Jessica, would you like me to cure your eyes? Would you like to be freed from the prison of your broken mind?"

Harry slowly nodded.

Voldemort smiled coldly. "You need to continue my search for the Obsidian Stitch. It may still be in France… I suggest you control one of your brothers to take you there. I know you can find it. I will cure you if you do find it. If you fail, Harry will die. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You may address me as my Lord."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good girl. But that is not the only task I ask of you." Voldemort's cold thumb ran across Harry's cheek, making him suppress a shiver of disgust.

"It has come to my attention, that there may be a Mirror of this world… I did not think it was ever possible in my lifetime, but, by accident I've sensed his faint presence. I have felt him in my mind recently while I was at Gringotts."

Harry remained as passive as possible, but in his mind, and in his heart, he was exploding with fear.

Pretty dolls…

"It's not your brother, I have checked, but I must admit it felt like him. Yet this Mirror is not my true form, so it must be a living Horcrux. I do not feel my own Horcruxes… I am so damaged. However, this Mirror Horcrux has a stronger piece of soul in it and it helped me sense it when we connected."

Fluffy fucking kittens…

Voldemort's mouth moved, but Harry couldn't hear him speak anymore. The horror that he was discovered crippled him. He could not afford to get caught now.

But luckily enough, Voldemort was still so damaged, that he didn't notice that Mirror Horcrux being right under his nose.

"… I want you to find out where this Mirror is, and I know Dumbledore has something to do with it. Do you understand? I want that Horcrux."

"Yes, my Lord," Harry replied, though his entire body was paralysed by fear.

There was a sharp rapping on the door and Voldemort ordered it opened.

Death Eaters pushed Snape into the room, making him kneel. Bellatrix strode in after them, with the Carrows following, excited. Emily forced her way in, before the door closed. She looked very pale.

A dangerous grimace suddenly played on Snape's lips as he stared at Harry. Did he know? Harry wondered.

"I see you've already begun punishing him, Bella," Voldemort noticed.

"My apologies, master, my wand slipped."

"Try not to kill him."

"But the Mudbloods haven't executed for days," Alecto Carrow wheezed. "A bit of exercise gets rid of their urge to rebel, it will."

"The Muggle-borns will not kill Severus Snape. It was a misdemeanour and he shall learn his lesson to be prompt next time," Voldemort ordered. "Severus, I finally have your daughter… Miles was able to accomplish what you could not."

"I am very pleased she has, my Lord."

"Thankfully, your daughter has taken after her Mudblood mother in looks, don't you agree?" Voldemort mocked, reaching out to grip Harry's chin. "I hope in time, after you kill the Potters, you will be able to teach your child our true values."

Harry's heart plummeted.

"Of course, my lord... so killing the Potters will be my next task?" Snape asked.

Voldemort let go of Harry's chin and stalked Snape. "Once you have recovered, you will kill the Potters, quickly. The Potters are a well respected powerful family to our enemies, and their deaths will be a blow to them all. It will weaken their side."

"My Lord, are you not worried Jessica may tell her parents what I will do?"

Voldemort looked down at Harry. "She doesn't understand what we are saying, unless I instruct her personally. After you kill the Potters, you will escort the girl back to be trained."

It took several moments for Snape to respond, especially with Bellatrix laughing behind him. "However, Jessica is not a healthy child—"

"She will be."

Harry wished he could see Snape properly. He knew he was hiding his fear. He was brave though, that despite his upcoming punishment, he was still keen to be the loyal double agent.

"Severus, I suggest you prepare your mind for what is to come next. And only once you kill the Potters will you prove your loyalty to me once more."

Snape inhaled deeply, placing his chained hands on his lap. "Be a good girl, Jessica. Do as you're told."

"Come along Severus, dear." Bellatrix yanked at the chain around his neck, almost choking him. And the Carrows kicked him out.

Amidst Bellatrix's cold laughter, Voldemort was speaking to Harry. "You may go as well, Jessica—Emily take her and try not to get caught taking her back home."

"Thank you, my Lord."

But as they exited, Voldemort spoke again. "Wait—go to the Great Hall first. I want you to watch your Mentor—to see what happens to Death Eaters who disobey me. Take the girl with you. She needs to learn that disobedience has a price."

Emily bowed. Then clutching Harry's arm, she dragged him out of the Headmaster's office and as far away as possible from Voldemort.

Harry hadn't realised he had been holding his breath until she asked him if he was okay. He felt weak, his muscles trembling, and his head ached. It was over and he had escaped Voldemort's meeting unscathed. He couldn't believe it.

She steered him into a classroom and locked the door. Harry gingerly sat down on a table as Emily paced up and down, thinking. His cursed wounds were beginning to sting after all the rushed movements.

"How long do we have?"

"An hour..." Emily shoved her hands into her pockets.

"He won't die—"

"I know, I'm not worried about Snape—well sort of—that's not the point. By the time the Great Hall is filled, Snape and the Muggle-borns prepared, and his punishment is finished, we won't have time to get out without the potion wearing off."

Harry jumped off the table. "Take me home and you can come back—"

"I can't! He wants you to see it," she spat. "He'll have spies watching."

"We'll stay as long as possible and go to plan B if I start changing.'

"Too dangerous—"

"I'm already in danger! Voldemort knows there's a Mirror. He asked me to look for them."

Stunned, she stopped pacing to stare at him with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. Harry noticed that she was holding a galleon between her fingers. She was breathing fast as she stared at the coin, thinking… deliberating.

"It's getting too dangerous now." She stamped her foot on the floor and blinked at the ceiling. "Oh Harry, wake the bloody hell up!"

"Are you sending Dumbledore a message?"

"Remember plan B if anything goes wrong."

"You need to tell me what you're thinking. I can help, you know."

"This is our war, and I can't let you have a part of it."

"Yet here I am, Polyjuiced as a little girl, being a part of this war."

"You should just worry about getting out."

(******)

They didn't speak for awhile as they moved down the castle, but Harry felt Emily's grip trembling, her breathing quick and shivering.

Time was ticking faster than usual.

At the main stairs next to The Great Hall, Harry saw a large circle of Death Eaters beneath, spilling out of the hall. Many were laughing, drunk, and a buzz of talk erupted amongst them.

They stopped at the outskirts of the crowd so it was easier for them to escape, but the Death Eaters had other plans.

"Oh looky what we have here," a blonde-haired witch said loudly.

"Your Snape's aren't you?" a wizard asked, licking his lips.

"What are you doing?" Emily yelled. "Get your stinking hands off me!"

Harry felt them being roughly pushed further into the crowd.

"You deserve a good viewing, girl, he's your Mentor after all.'

There was laughter around them, and Harry almost lost Emily's grip as they were forced inwards. It was crushing and noisy, and he could not see a thing, except the black, suffocating robes all around him. Harry felt like he was drowning.

This wasn't good. The throng pushed them towards the inner edge of the circle, where all the senior Death Eaters stood. Harry was getting rather worried now. Death Eaters jeered as they past, and some took the opportunity to grope Emily inappropriately.

"Stop this!" Emily yelled.

Finally, after a large amount of man handling, they arrived at a spot where they would be able to see everything. The centre of the hall was cleared away, yet old blood stains covered the flagstone floor as a grisly reminder of all the deaths and maiming that had occurred. Harry blinked. The light made it difficult to see clearly, and he thought it was a blessing, because he didn't want to see what was going to happen to Snape.

A few Death Eaters mocked Emily, asking her if she was scared or embarrassed to see her Mentor about to be savagely beaten by a pack of Mudbloods, which was considered the most degrading of all punishments. But Emily was focused on the blood-stained floor. She gripped Harry's hand tightly, however, this time it wasn't for his benefit, but for her own.

Suddenly feet stamped the floor, making it sound like thunder as Bellatrix strode to the centre of the clearing with her hands in the air, smiling at the bustling, tight crowd.

"Death Eaters," she began. "Oh what a show you will have tonight." The crowd erupted again. "Yes, it's not often a Senior is punished, but Severus Snape has been a very naughty boy, indeed."

There was laughter around them.

"Amusing, yes, however, let this serve as a reminder that our master does not take kindly to tardiness and procrastination… you will be punished for it."

Silence filled the air as the Death Eaters took note.

"Bring in Severus Snape." Bellatrix locked her heavily hooded eyes on Harry's for a monent.

Another gleeful roar filled the air. It was deafening, but Harry kept his face passive, not daring to cover his ears, as he was sure Jessica wouldn't have done it. Besides, Bellatrix was still staring at him, her chest heaving with sadistic delight. She moved away, blending into the crowd.

Suddenly the jeering and goading began. Snape was pushed through a band of Death Eaters and was forced to stand at the same spot Bellatrix had stood moments before.

The crowd began throwing rotting fruit and vegetables into the middle of the circle where Snape stood defiant. And the crowd heaved, pushing further in.

"Whip him," a Death Eater next to Harry yelled.

"Burn him," said another.

Amidst the chaos around Harry, the crowd pushed forward and in front of him. Harry couldn't see anymore and he was glad he couldn't. Harry heard Snape's robes being ripped a part, the crowd roared with approval and laughter, adding to his humiliation.

"Bring in the Mudbloods," Bellatrix screeched. The crowd was exhilarated.

Harry felt as though he was being crushed, being swallowed in a sea of black robes. The Death Eaters were hungry for a sickening show of blood and screams.

And then he was suddenly nauseous. He thought it was because of what was happening to Snape, until he realised it was the Polyjuice Potion beginning to wear off.

Harry tugged Emily's sleeve and she tore her eyes away from Snape. Her eyes widened even more. She roughly covered Harry's head with his hood. He knew he was changing. He was starting to see clearer, despite the light.

The Muggle-borns screamed in rage and revenge, and Snape yelled in surprise as a blow struck him. The noise from the crowd was at an almost head splitting high.

Emily waited as long as she could. After minutes of blood-thirsty mayhem, Snape lay unmoving on the ground. They had seen enough. Emily yanked Harry out of the crushing crowd, shoving Death Eaters away, elbowing others. But he kept falling, blinded by the robes pressing in on him. He was afraid of losing his grip on Emily's sweaty hand.

"MOVE!" she yelled above even more cheers.

"I can't!" Harry squeaked in Jessica's voice, but even his voice was beginning to deepen. Emily grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into her arms.

"We need to go by another way," she said in horror, once it became clear that the front door to Hogwarts was bolted shut for the night. Emily delved a hand into her pocket, no doubt looking for the galleon.

"Miles, your Mentor's punishment hasn't finished," Lucius Malfoy drawled.

Emily jolted, and they both froze in the middle of a deserted corridor, out of breath, hearing the pack of hungry Death Eaters roar in delight from the now distant hall.

"I've seen enough." Emily looked as though she had seen death. "And why aren't you?"

"We found Weasley, Potter and Pettigrew outside Grindelwald's boundaries."

Harry let out a small whimper of shock. He briefly saw a bloodied Ron slumped against Dawlish. There were a few unnamed Death Eaters around Tony and Michael who were struggling against their captors hold. Harry also saw a Grindelwald supporter hanging limply in chains.

"We thought we'd take them to the dungeons," Malfoy added, "see what they were up to at Grindelwald's. I'm especially curious how Pettigrew found his way back to the Order."

Tony screamed and attempted to kick Malfoy's shin. But a skinny Death Eater knocked him out.

"Dawlish, tell Nesbitt to prepare the interrogation chambers."

Emily let go of Harry and pulled the hood of his cloak further down his head, before dragging him behind her. Harry doubled over in pain. His limbs jerked involuntarily as they slowly grew.

"Help them," Harry whispered, cringing in pain. He didn't care anymore about his transformation. "They were looking for something," he whimpered.

Harry knew Emily was torn.

"Help them, please," he whispered again, poking her in the back with his painfully transforming finger.

"I'll join you," Emily said after a tough moment, thinking. Harry sighed in relief.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Actually, you may be able to help us."

Harry writhed in agony, falling against her.

"What's wrong with the girl?" Malfoy said suspiciously.

"Not used to witnessing torture."

"A bit of conditioning will rectify that."

"Definitely," she purred. "Mr Malfoy how could I help you?"

"Potions from Snape's stores, like Veritiserum—"

"There is no viable Vertiserum in stock. The last stock was tainted, you know—"

"I thought perhaps, Snape might've hidden some," said Lucius Malfoy slyly.

"Look, there is new batch brewing, but it'll be weeks before its ready."

"Pity… But you do have access, don't you, to his stores?" another Death Eater asked. "A few potions for interrogation, perhaps? We're exhausted from staking out for days, and we don't want to be wasting our energy on this rabble."

Emily nodded, grabbing hold of Harry's robes from behind. She walked backwards until she found a chamber to their left. She practically threw Harry inside.

He gasped, falling to the ground, writhing more violently as the effects of the Polyjuice Potion wore off.

"You should take the girl with you."

"She's exhausted. Don't worry about her," Emily said smoothly, locking the door.

Harry stuffed his robe sleeve into his mouth to muffle his screams. As tears flowed down his face, he developed a new found hate for the potion.

His clothes begin to stretch and the colour darkened to black. And within a minute it was over. He law on the cold floor in pitch darkness. The cold seeped into his bones. But outside, there was total silence. Everyone had retreated to the dungeons. He was now back to his normal self.

Alone, Harry took a moment to regain control, standing up rather wobbly, getting used to his longer legs again. Goosebumps prickled all over his body as he began to panic.

Fear crushed him. They've got them.

Lumos.

Harry looked around. He was in a small wooden panelled room, but as his eyesight adjusted, he saw a small door materialise near a grate.

There were many secrets of Hogwarts he didn't know of, and just like the discovery of the Room of Requirement, he found himself wanting to explore, to escape.

Hermione once told him that there was a scattering of hidden escape routes on each floor and once within it, you had the ability to get into any room, whether or not there was a door to enter it. You just had to be lucky enough to find the escape route in the first place. It must have been his lucky day.

He stared at the small door, until he heard the door Emily had locked rattle as though someone was trying to get in.

He quickly went through the secret doorway. It vanished as soon as he closed it. He found himself in a hidden corridor between chambers. He doubted many people had discovered the escape route as it was full of dirt and cobwebs.

He needed to find a place to hide or escape and try and get Ron, Michael and Tony out. He was about to begin changing his appearance when he heard a scream nearby.

He ran down the corridor which could only fit two people side by side. The first solid oak door that materialised could not be opened, but he could with the second. He stumbled inside, closing the door quietly. It quickly vanished like the first one he had gone through.

"ARGH!"

Something flew on him and he was knocked over. Harry crashed onto the floor, realising that a chained wizard had jumped on him.

His wand was thrown to the side and it clattered underneath an armchair, extinguishing the light. The prisoner's eyes were wide, his hair long and dirty, and he his hands tightened around Harry's neck.

"Stop!"

Then a light turned on and a door creaked open. He froze, realising that there were more people. Harry gasped. He saw Rabastan Lestrange coming down a small set of stairs, hastily pulling on his robes. A witch with blazing red hair and a square jaw was right behind him.

The chained wizard let go of Harry. "Master, he came in through a secret door," he croaked, pointing to the now innocent looking stone wall.

Lestrange's head was thickly bandaged and his eyes were bruised. He must have been injured during the Gringotts takeover. He narrowed his eyes as Harry stood up.

"You've protected us well, Kritikos," Lestrange said softly, placing a soft hand on the prisoner's shoulder. The prisoner's chest swelled with pride.

Lestrange stared at him. Confusion lingered on his face when he realised who Harry looked like. Then a finger moved towards his wand arm, where the Dark Mark was.

39. Slither and Bite

Slither and Bite

"NO!" Harry bellowed, terrified.

Lestrange's finger just above the Dark Mark.

"Don't summon him, please," Harry pleaded. He tried to use his magic, but he soon found he couldn't. The room was protected against the likes of him.

"Explain why I shouldn't?"

"Because I'm not Harry Potter!"

Lestrange didn't look convinced. However, he moved his finger away to quietly judge his appearance. "If Potter is unconscious, then who are you?"

"My name is William Brunswick."

The witch next to Lestrange narrowed her dark blue eyes. She had long, fiery red hair, plaited over her shoulder. Her square jaw tensed as Harry returned her stare. "Brunswick, where's your collar? Why are you wearing Death Eater robes—?"

The witch smiled. "It was the game, Rabastan. Let's have some fun. I've always wanted to wipe Potter's smirk off his face," the witch cooed, softly touching Lestrange's exposed arm. He roughly pushed her away.

Harry shivered as he backed himself against the wall, feeling it, wishing the secret door would return, and then somehow get his wand back. Kritikos was standing over the armchair where it lay underneath.

Suddenly the main door burst open and a wide-eyed Draco Malfoy flew in. Then Blaise Zabini entered, smacking into Malfoy's back. They straightened up, pointing their wands into Harry's face.

Realisation dawned on Lestrange's face. " Draco, I've never thought you were the type…"

Malfoy, not even daring to take his eyes off Harry said, "Me? No." He jerked his head towards his friend. "But Blaise likes boys."

Zabini nodded with narrowed eyes. "Doesn't stop you from watching though..."

Malfoy shot him an evil glare. "Poor Blaise, he's always had a liking for Potter. It's quite pathetic really."

"Was it Polyjuice or a Mirage Charm?" Lestrange questioned.

"Polyjuice," they both replied. "He only drank it a half hour ago," Malfoy finished.

Lestrange walked towards them, slowly mulling over his thoughts. "Interesting… Boys, you do know the Dark Lord's banned the potion from the castle months ago?"

"Er, yes, we did, but, ah…"

Harry closed his eyes, begging for a miracle to get him out of this mess. Why had the secret escape route led him into this room, of all places?

"You had some stashed away?" the witch asked. "Rabastan let it go, for Merlin's sake! I've got a bottle of Polyjuice somewhere. Will you report me?"

Lestrange licked his bottom lip, assessing the situation while Kritikos glowered at them through the curtain of his mangy hair. The prisoner made Harry's skin crawl. But Kritikos retreated to the far corner of the room, giving Harry a good view of the armchair.

"Draco, if I was to contact the guards in the dungeon, they'd be able to tell me Potter is asleep?"

"Yes," he calmly replied.

"Then you'd be able to explain to me why this Mudblood isn't in chains?"

"It was my stupid mistake. I thought I could trust him," Zabini answered.

"Why is he wearing Death Eater robes?"

"I really wanted him to look authentic—ARGHH!"

Lestrange slashed a curse at the boys, and something hot and white smacked their faces.

"Fucking idiots! You can never trust a disgusting Mudblood. They're traitorous, deviant perversions of our kind!"

"Yeah, I know that now and he, er, got away from me," Zabini said, massaging his cheek.

"He must be killed, but then, the both of you will be punished for it. Your mother would kill me if I let that happen, Draco."

"Yeah, er, let's, keep this quiet, please?" Malfoy urged.

Lestrange turned his focus on Zabini.

"Yeah, and I… I have a soft spot for him… I'd hate to see his arse on a spike."

Malfoy and Zabini were doing their best to get him out, despite Lestrange's interrogation. Harry just hoped it was enough mendacity.

The witch yawned and pointed towards a room. "Use the study, boys, we're going back to bed." Then Harry saw her slipping something gold into her pocket.

She's on our side!

The witch must have alerted Malfoy and Zabini to where he was located. The secret escape route door would've known he'd find help here.

"Don't lock the study. I don't trust the look of this one," Lestrange said, jerking his head at him.

The boys stared at each other for a second, realising what they were meant to do.

The witch was leading Lestrange up the stairs to their sleeping quarters when he yanked his hand from her grip. "Wait." Again, he approached Harry.

Harry tensed, unable to shake the cold and fear. The Death Eater touched Harry's neck with the point of his wand. He did not react kindly at the touch, making Lestrange keep him still with a fist full of his hair. A heavy and cold iron collar materialised around his neck.

"There. You need to know your place, Mudblood. By the way, boys, what's his name?"

"Brunswick, William," both wizards replied without a seconds thought.

The Death Eater crossed his arms. Rabastan Lestrange still didn't look convinced.

"Blaise you might want to use Kritikos. My prized champion fighter needs exercise before the next Mudblood match."

The prisoner stood up, excited, but Zabini shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Well?" The witch rolled her eyes impatiently. "What are you waiting for?"

In a blur, Harry was smashed against the wall, his face on the cold stone. He felt Zabini pressed against his back. "Did you think you could escape from me, you filthy, Mudblood cunt?"

With a yank of his hair, Harry was thrown into the study. He fell straight onto the rug, hyperventilating.

Malfoy closed the door and cast a Silencing Charm around the room.

"Now what?" Zabini whispered, towering over Harry.

Then he walked around the room, looking for a way out, a secret door like the one Harry had come through in.

"There's no way we can get him out of the castle without alerting Rabastan, unless Marianna—"

"Emily's got the blood," Draco replied, curiously watching Harry. "Marianna won't risk taking anymore off of him, especially tonight. He'd be wary of us. He's worried about Harry snuffing him one day, and seeing this one, scared the shit out of him."

Zabini cocked an eyebrow. "Why would Rabastan, a member of the Thirteen, be worried about Harry?"

"Because he vowed to kill him," Malfoy said.

Zabini still looked confused.

Then Harry interrupted, steering the conversation away from his existence. "So, Marianna is that witch with Rabastan?"

"Marianna Kirkhope. She's a spy—an Auror in fact. She's been a Death Eater for three years, and has developed quite a reputation as she's gathered intelligence."

"How so?"

"We call it Death Eater Hopping. She goes from one wizard to the next," Malfoy snorted. "They do it to gain power."

Harry looked around, and jumped up. His fingers tested the tight collar for weakness.

Malfoy hadn't stopped staring at him. "So, I think it's time you told us who you are," he asked silkily, deciding to sit causally on the leather desk chair. "I want to know why Emily has been in such a tizzy about you for the last two days."

"I'm Harry's Mirror."

"Bollocks!" Zabini spat.

"I wish it was a joke," Harry shrugged, feeling the walls for any secret escape routes.

Both the Death Eaters gazed in shock, but Harry sighed. He wanted to get out, and he was worried about his wand still underneath the armchair outside and his friends in the dungeons.

"Snape told you nothing about me?"

They shook their heads in awe and disbelief.

"Emily just said they'd be someone looking like Harry with her tonight and if you got into trouble we had to help you. So you are really a Mirror? Hang on—was that you we were watching over at Snape's after the takeover of Azkaban?"

"Draco!" yelled Zabini. "Now, seriously, isn't the best time to be getting acquainted with him." They heard the door click. "Shit!" he swore as the door handle moved.

"Quick!" Malfoy whispered frantically, pointing at Harry.

Zabini flicked his wand.

Harry didn't have a second to defend himself. All he felt was pain rip through his body. He heard himself screaming and then suddenly, the pain was gone. He realised he was on the floor again, his mouth wide open, gulping air.

"Who's lost their wand?"

As Harry panted, shivering from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Lestrange held up the lost wand.

Kritikos was staring from behind Lestrange's shoulders, curious to know what was happening. But his master pulled him back.

Malfoy snatched it out of the Death Eater's grip. "My spare," he said quickly.

"Really? Because my prisoner says Brunswick had it."

"Well, what can I say?" laughed Zabini. "We screwed up tonight, Rabastan, big time."

"Don't say anything," Malfoy pleaded.

"I won't this time around," Lestrange concluded.

"Rabastan, come to bed," Marianna shrilled.

Lestrange's nostrils flared as he judged Harry. "Just make sure he doesn't steal your wands and escape again. Otherwise, I'll take great pleasure wringing your necks, myself." All three of them breathed out a sigh of relief when he retreated.

"Did you really have to use the Cruciatus Curse on me?"

Zabini scoffed. "I could've done a lot worse than that, Potter."

Harry didn't doubt him. He pulled himself up and Malfoy threw him back his wand. "Can we please just get out of here!"

"All right, don't panic!" Malfoy pulled out a map, a very familiar map.

"How did you get your hands on the Marauder's map?" Harry spat.

Malfoy flicked up his eyebrows. "Harry made a copy. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, but—"

"Just shut up, Potter, and let me concentrate." Malfoy gave the map a violent shake. "Our orders are to get you out."

"We've got to get Ron, Tony and Michael out too," Harry implored. "Did Emily say anything about them? They've just been captured."

"No," Zabini said, "just that she locked you in a chamber. Might I add, if you stayed put in that chamber, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"I thought I was going to get caught."

"Maybe you should trust us a little more," Malfoy said from behind the map.

"No offence, Malfoy, but where I'm from, you really are a Death Eater." Harry paced the room, rubbing his eyes. "I can't just leave my friends here to be tortured or…"

"Conditioned? Maybe Harry's brother and Pettigrew again, but definitely not Weasley, he'd be killed," Malfoy said, eying the map. "Snape is being escorted down to the dungeons with my aunt. My dad is down there with Emily. She's next to—"

"The Muggle-borns?" Zabini whispered, tapping his chin, as he observed the tiny dots on the map. The boys looked at each other darkly. "Time's ripe for the picking…"

"Hmm."

"I won't leave without them," Harry growled again.

"SHUT UP!" they yelled at him.

"Hey," Harry hissed. "You both better start telling me what the hell we're going to do!"

"Fucking hell, Potter, just let us think first," Zabini snapped, feeling the galleon with his thumb. "I'm going to ask her what we should do… 'Emily: Stay or go?'"

Malfoy looked frustrated. "I can't do anything with my dad down there."

"Take him too," Zabini pondered. "I'm sure the Order would love to interrogate him."

Zabini's galleon burned him. "Emily's stuck down there. Apparently Weasley said that Pettigrew had a strange dagger concealed in his robes. They have it now—"

"No!" Harry gasped, shaking his head and a hot feeling of despair filled the pit of his stomach. "Shit, we need to get Harry out, now!"

"Why? He's sleeping. He won't be harmed—"

"Look, that dagger is important to Voldemort. He'll kill Harry with that dagger and get his soul back," Harry said.

"Huh?" asked Zabini, confused.

But Malfoy's eyes widened. "I'm telling Emily. Dagger—Dark—Big Snake will kill Gryffindor.'"

Harry shoved Zabini out of the way and yanked the map from Malfoy's fingertips. He saw the tiny dots in the dungeon cells. Death Eater dots labelled as Tom Nesbitt and Gregory Goyle in the room with Emily, and Ron, while Malfoy's father's dot left to interrogate Michael and Tony in a separate room. Harry examined the other rooms. Bellatrix was leaving Snape's chamber that held his Mirror, and was on the way to see Tony.

"What's Emily doing?" Malfoy said.

Then suddenly, Nesbitt's dot vanished, then Goyle's. They all looked at each other. "She killed them," Malfoy breathed. He ran his fingers through his long blond hair, moving away. "Fuck, she's really killed them!"

"Why are you so shocked?" said Harry. Zabini looked just as scared.

Emily's dot retreated from the room, while Ron's dot was free to move around in the cell. Her dot went into the boys' cell. Moments later they were joined by Bellatrix. This time Emily didn't kill anyone.

"Shit," Malfoy said in consternation.

"Should we try and go down there?" asked Harry. "Harry, wake up. We're all in trouble."

Then surprisingly, the Mirror answered Harry's call. "Shame, it was just getting to an exciting point… ahh well…"

"Look!" Zabini exclaimed, tapping on Mirror Harry's tiny little dot.

The dot was starting to move.

(******)

Severus groggily opened his eyes, not sure whether he was dead or alive. He inhaled, feeling stabs of pain each time he breathed. He was cold and naked, lying in his own blood. His head felt like it was about to explode.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something fumble about across the bed. It fell onto the floor with a heavy thud. Severus blinked, his vision still blurry,

The naked thing slithered across the floor, slowly, at times shaking, until finally, Severus felt the wizard's hot breath on his shoulder.

"Snape…" the boy croaked. His voice barely a whisper. He shook Severus's shoulder. "Snape… wake up."

Instantly, Severus felt a warmth ripple through his entire body. His eyes widened as he felt more energised.

"Potter?" he said hoarsely. "You're finally awake."

The boy drew in a deep breath, and threw a blanket over Severus. Then he lay down right next to him, exhausted too.

"You better get back to bed—pretend."

"I'm just going to lie here, until I find the strength to walk." He closed his eyes.

Severus forced himself up, stifling a yell as his entire body protested in pain. He hated to think about what had happened to him in The Great Hall.

Potter was sound asleep again. The effects of the curse Grindelwald put on him would take awhile to wear off. However, Potter didn't have the luxury to sleep it off.

"Potter—POTTER!"

The boy groaned. "What?"

"Listen to me, carefully," Severus commanded, wincing. "If Bellatrix walks in now, you're in trouble."

"Fuck her," he mumbled. "Don't worry they'll know I'm awake now."

"Who?" Severus asked in alarm, cringing as he felt his broken ribs.

"Draco…"

"And then what will happen?"

"Get out… My Mirror is still in the castle."

"How do you know?"

"I've seen it. We need to get everyone out," Potter yawned.

"You can barely get yourself out!"

He smirked and closed his eyes again. "It's not my time to die yet."

"Die…? POTTER," Severus yelled, slapping his face. "Wake up!"

(******)

There was a small, but rapid knock on the door. They all froze again, thinking Lestrange was wondering what they were up to. This time, Harry was not going to be found in another compromising position. Malfoy opened it, then realising who they were, dragged the girls in as quietly as possible.

The Patil twins bit their bottom lips in unison, staring at Harry. The prisoner Kritikos, followed in, and so did Marianna.

"He's not Harry," Malfoy said.

Parvati smiled. "Oh, it's the other one."

"You knew?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Of course we did, Snape told us."

Zabini scoffed. "Why didn't he tell—?"

"That's enough," Malfoy said, staring at the prisoner Parvati had pulled in. "Are we bringing him with us?" he asked. "I think he's too damaged, he'll give us up."

"I've Imperioused him, don't worry," Marianna stated. "It's not his fault he's Rabastan's eyes and ears–Potter start changing your appearance. We've removed the magic in here."

Harry obeyed, and started his transformation.

"You're a Mage too?" Malfoy questioned.

"Yeah, but I wasn't until I came into this Mirror Universe."

Then Malfoy turned on Marianna. "Why did you take so long, Kirkhope?"

"Rabastan was adamant that something fishy was going on," Marianna rolled her eyes. "I had to put the poor sod out of his misery right before he touched the Dark Mark."

"What did you do to him?"

"He's dead."

"Marianna, why the hell did you do that for?" Malfoy said angrily.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot," she grinned, twirling her wand. "I transfigured him into a vase. No one will suspect, til it's too late."

Harry didn't think Draco was angry because she killed him, putting them all in even more danger. He was angry because Rabastan was family to him.

Marianna approached Harry with a raised finger stained with blood. She touched the collar on his neck, and instantly the collar vanished with a pop.

"Thanks," he whispered, massaging his neck.

Marianna circled the silent Conditioned and Death Eaters, her plait swinging around. There was a scary leer on her face and she looked excited.

"We're going to wait here until Emily sends us the message. Then we must act fast, do you all understand?" They all nodded.

"Is this it?" Parvati asked.

"This isn't a drill, no." Marianna nodded. "One hundred coins will transcribe the message to act. Everyone else will be here for the battle. But it is imperative that those left behind remain quiet. Voldemort will know what we've been up to, and he will be suspicious of all the Conditioned."

"Are you planning to get the prisoners out?" Harry straightened remembering what his Mirror had warned.

Malfoy looked agitated and scared. "The Conditioned chosen are to rescue the prisoners in the dungeons. That's it, it's finished."

"What about the Healers and the other Ministry workers?" Harry said.

Marianna curled her lip. "They'll stay. The Healers are used to help the injured. They're too valuable to be abused. The other Ministry prisoners will be rescued during the battle."

"Is this a plan Dumbledore wants to happen?" Harry questioned although he already knew the answer, as they all made their way out of the study.

Marianna shook her head. "No, this is what we want. This is Potter's plan, but until he's ready, Emily's taking charge, got that?"

"I don't have a choice do I?"

Malfoy looked at his coin. "Emily sent us another message. Those left behind: Stay far away from the dungeons. Stay with Mentors."

"How are we getting out?" Harry said. "All the secret escape passages are blocked off."

"When the prisoners to clean the castle, we have some them clear a bit of the path to Honeydukes and the Shrieking Shack," Pravati replied. "It's been slow and dangerous, but we're almost finished. It's taken us a year."

"Oh no…"

"What is it?" Harry spat, his scar stinging.

"Voldemort's been summoned." Voldemort's dot suddenly appeared in the chamber holding Michael and Tony. Harry cringed, his scar exploding in pain,

Then all the galleons burned in their hands. They all winced and moved their wand light to the message inscribed on their gold coins.

Marianna grinned. "Operation Slither and Bite has begun."

Harry was about to ask what the hell that meant, when something shook the foundations of the castle. Dust fell onto their heads and they all ducked.

"GO! GO! GO!" Marianna yelled. She yanked Harry's robes, pulling him out.

They all ran, heading straight to the dungeons, when a bright white light blinded them.

BOOOOOM!

Death Eaters everywhere poked their heads out of their rooms, pulling on robes. Some had their wands out ready for an attack. Stain-glassed windows to their right suddenly exploded, and they ducked as glass rained on them.

"Goblins are attacking, and Grindelwald's men will penetrate a small weakness in the Hogwarts boundaries. They'll start a counter attack. It'll take the focus off of us as we rescue the prisoners."

Harry was pulled up again and Marianna forced him down dark corridors. Then they all hid behind a tapestry as another explosion rocked the castle. Malfoy took the opportunity to stare at the map. It was quite crammed with all seven of them together in a small cranny.

"The Dark Lord and the others have left—'cept for my dad, Dawlish and Emily—shit! Dawlish's dot just disappeared!" Malfoy spat.

Harry peered behind the tapestry and saw ten goblins climbing over the broken windows, disappearing into darkness.

"Dumbledore needs to—!"

"I don't give a stuff what he thinks, Harry!" Marianna blasted. "We've seen enough and done enough. It's time we get out of here."

They ran as fast as they could to the dungeons, where many of the Death Eaters were running in the other direction to see what the commotion was about.

A goblin suddenly materialised in front of them. "Hello Mr Death Eater."

"What—?" A Death Eater choked on his words, falling to his knees as Harry and the others fled around them.

They scooted past their old Potions classrooms and further down into the bawls of the castle, where the air was hot and sticky, and the smell of blood hung in the air.

Marianna stopped in the middle of the deserted corridor where the dungeon doors were locked with iron padlocks. The Death Eater guards were all dead. Three goblins and a Grindelwald supporter leaned against the wall, looking impressed with their handiwork.

"Thanks boys," Marianna breathed with a salute. They grinned and disappeared to fight their own battle.

They were all out of breath, and in-between the shouts of Death Eaters and a bombardment of explosions in every direction above them, there was nothing but an eerie silence in the corridor.

Then there were rushed footsteps at either end of it. They all held there wands high and saw another ninety or so Conditioned Death Eaters arriving. Harry saw Cho, Dean, and even Susan Bones amongst them.

Marianna put a finger to her lips then signalled for them to split into groups of five. They were silently ordered to wait behind one of the padlocked doors down the long corridor, as an explosion rippled through castle again.

Then Emily emerged from one of the chambers. Anthony and Michael slowly followed, holding each other upright. They both rushed to Harry.

"Are you two okay?" he asked. They nodded in silence. Michael was twitching. Too many hits with the Cruciatus Curse, Harry thought.

"Only a senior Death Eater can open the dungeon doors here," Marianna whispered.

"But any Death Eater can open the interrogation rooms," added Zabini as he opened the door next door, letting Ron free.

Ron was in a bad shape, with his arm dangling at an odd angle. He clutched his side, wheezing. "Alright Harry?' he managed to say.

"Much better than you."

"Ron, let me see if I can fix you," Padma said.

Emily turned, looking into a chamber. "Come," she coaxed.

Lucius Malfoy emerged with his eyes glazed over, suffering from a classical case of the Imperious Curse. He stood in front of Emily, staring at the wall.

"Well go on, Mr Malfoy, command all the dungeons opened."

He nodded and waved his wand high. Everyone held their breath as he muttered an incantation.

"We have to get Harry and Snape out." Malfoy pulled on Harry's robe and he followed him up a set of stairs back to an old Potions classroom, and through a smaller chamber.

Snape lay on the floor unconscious, but his Mirror was standing near an open closet, lacing up his boot. He caught Harry's eyes for a moment. Then he looked away to smirk at Draco. "Miss me?"

"Not much." Malfoy grinned.

"Liar!" The Mirror straightened to fall height.

There was an air of power and malevolence about him that Harry sensed. He was not the same boy he had met in the cave, but still, he was very dangerous.

Malfoy laughed and clapped a hand on the Mirror's back as Harry crouched down to make sure Snape was alright. He was alive, but his pulse was weak.

There was another explosion and a shelf full of potions crashed down.

"Harry, give him some of your strength," the Mirror said, fixing his robes. "I've given him some of mine, but I can't give anymore… I'm still a bit shaky myself."

Harry nodded, lost for words. He had spoken to his mirror for months through their connection, and now that he was awake, he didn't know what to say.

He felt the cold skin of Snape's hand, and his sticky blood. Harry let his power filter through. He felt slightly weakened, but Snape opened his eyes, looking about.

"We need to get out of here."

Snape gasped. "Are you—?"

"He's the other one," the Mirror answered, walking over. "Now," he crouched down, carefully pulling Snape into an upright position. "I'm going to take charge now, you understand Harry?"

"It's about bloody time!" he growled.

The Mirror smirked, as he and Malfoy wrapped blankets around Snape's body. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"No."

"Still think I'm up to no good?"

"Yes."

The Mirror laughed. "Maybe, but if I do, it's only to finish this war."

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, warily.

"I'm more of my old self… I don't want your forgiveness—"

"Good, because you're not getting it," Harry said angrily. His stint in prison because of his Mirror's actions was still raw in his mind.

"Of course—" Mirror Harry faltered, suddenly staring behind him.

Harry turned around and found Ron at the doorway, speechless.

The red-head opened and closed his mouth. "I…"

The Mirror got up and walked towards him, but Ron took a step back in fright. They stared in silence and then, Ron softened up. He suddenly wrapped his arm around his best friend.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled with his head buried on the Mirror's shoulder.

The Mirror sighed, patting Ron's back. "I'm the sorry one," he said, hugging him back. "Come on, we're wasting time here."

40. The Prisoners

The Prisoners

Ron wiped his nose. "Wait Harry, I need to tell you—"

A sudden heavy tremor ripped through the castle, causing a plume of dust to fall around them.

"Ron—"

Another tremor murmured through the stone, this time stronger than the last. It made a glass cabinet full of pickled animal parts crash onto the floor.

"Harry, listen to me!"

"How did you get caught?" the Mirror interrupted as he shook debris out of his hair.

"Merlin, do we really need to talk about this now?" Malfoy snapped. They ignored him, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Harry gazed at the frazzled pale Death Eater. "Malfoy—"

"Draco," he hissed. "I think we can move past the mistrust stage, Harry."

"Draco, please check that the corridor is clear before we move."

Malfoy reluctantly sped off.

The Mirror laid a hand on Ron's shoulder. "So, what happened to the Obsidian Stitch?"

"They tortured me," he frowned, "they tried to force me to say things under the Imperious Curse—"

"There are limits to the Imperious, and making a person tell the truth is one of them," Malfoy shouted as he left the chamber.

"Yeah, they figured that out quickly. They were desperate without Veritiserum."

"Of course, desperate enough to use some pretty violent torture techniques," the Mirror said.

"He crushed my arm…"

"You're lucky we got to you in time—"

"You didn't get to me in time! That's what I'm trying to say, Harry." Ron trembled with disgust. "I said Tony had it—I'm so sorry—I had to—they were going to do terrible things to Michael." He looked away, as though his words were the epitome of shame.

The implication that Voldemort had finally got his hands on the Stitch was enormous.

"Ron—"

"How did you get caught in the first place?" Harry staunched a bloody wound on Snape's head. He wrapped a bandage around with a little spell he had learnt from Cotter.

"We were escorted to his hiding spot in secret, I mean really in secret—with a shit load of charms, spells and stuff around us. Nobody would've known that we were coming. But Grindelwald told us there were Death Eaters watching—he couldn't pinpoint their location—they had their own protection. And then…" Ron looked at Harry. "He was pissed… he was really fucking angry that you didn't come—"

Harry's eyes widened. "What the hell is he playing at? He knows I need to go home."

The Mirror grimaced. "Ron, are you saying that—that Lord Grindelwald had something to do with you getting caught?"

"Yes!" He ran his hand through his hair. "He wanted to teach you a lesson, Harry. Although, I didn't think he was going to use us. All I'm saying is that we were escorted in secret, but on the way out—"

"There was no protection. You were out in the open for the Death Eaters to see. Even allowing the capture of his own supporter," Mirror Harry finished. Curling his lip, he then added, "that fucking bastard!"

"Well, I'm glad you mentioned Grindelwald's supporter… he was working for Dumbledore, spying on Grindelwald."

The Mirror rubbed his chin. "How do you know?"

"Lucius Malfoy knew. Xanthe Payton saw him at the Order talking with Dumbledore."

"And what happened to him—he was with you, wasn't he?" Harry asked.

"He undid his restraints on the way to the dungeons, and then tried grabbing one of the Death Eater's wands before dying." Ron winced, looking extremely exhausted. "Harry, what the hell did Dumbledore do?"

The Mirror stared at them all. "Dumbledore resurrected a past evil to try and destabilise Voldemort. I was in Azkaban so he needed somebody to challenge Voldemort."

If all this was true, then Dumbledore was too blind to see what Grindelwald was turning into. He wanted to destroy one monster, by unleashing another. And no amount of binding words, promises and even a stint in prison would be enough to change a person's thirst for power.

"Then we'll deal with Grindelwald when we get out of here," Harry said.

He looked down and concentrated on Snape who was now groaning in agony. There was another wound on his chest that needed urgent healing, and he was bruising up badly. Luckily for Snape, most of his injuries were made without spells, so healing would be quick for him, that's if they got out in time.

"Harry, I'm really sorry for telling them—"

The Mirror squeezed Ron's shoulder. "You did that to protect my brother. Voldemort was going to eventually find the Stitch anyway—" His eyes suddenly rolled back and his knees gave way. He woke in time to clutch on the door handle and steady himself.

"Woah—are you okay?" Ron asked.

"He's fine," Malfoy said, peering into the chamber again.

"I didn't ask you!"

"Weasley, if you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you stop talking."

"He's still got Grindelwald's curse in his system," said Harry, cutting through the tension.

"And to think Grindelwald handled my body when my dad wasn't around..." His Mirror shivered. He looked clammy as he trembled with his eyes still closed.

Harry didn't want to know how Grindelwald handled his Mirror. "Do you, er, need some of my energy—my help?" he asked as he finished stabilising Snape's wounds.

"No. Just look after Snape. I'll be right... in a sec."

"Let's go, the coast is clear," Malfoy snarled. He waved his wand and Snape was lifted gently into the air, hovering at shoulder level. "The Conditioned are all positioned at the escape routes. They're ready to open them at Emily's command."

BOOOOOOOOOM!

More shelves fell around them.

They struggled out of classroom, which was a feat since Ron was injured, his Mirror fighting the urge to sleep, and Snape hovering slowly after them.

Down a small flight of stairs, they jumped over bodies of strewn Death Eater guards and a couple of goblins, and made it to the dungeons in time to see that Lucius Malfoy had finished opening all the dungeon cells. Emily had commanded blood vials hidden on the Conditioned to be Accioed into the air, the same sort she had in her velvet pouch.

"What's Emily doing?" Harry asked Malfoy, soon noticing that his disguise had worn off.

"It'll be a nightmare trying to locate the right prisoners for the right vial of blood." Malfoy whispered.

"So she's making it easier for us to undo the prisoners' collars by mixing it all into one bowl." Ron looked unimpressed that Malfoy was speaking with them.

"Holy shit, he's awake!" Michael gasped.

Tony scowled as Padma tried to heal a head wound he had. The Conditioned around them whispered when Harry and his Mirror walked through the tight throng.

Another blast rocked the castle; they could hear screams above them now, somewhere out in the courtyard.

"Welcome back, Potter," Marianna purred, her blue eyes twinkling.

"You still want to wipe that smirk off my face?"

"Oh, one day I will. I am an Auror after all." She winked.

Harry bumped past his Mirror and squeezed Tony's shoulder in reassurance. The poor kid was bloodied to a pulp. "Are you okay?" The boy nodded in silence.

"I should mention," his Mirror murmured, "that this part of the castle is protected against our magic. Magic cast by a Magos is instantly neutralised, hence, why your disguise is gone."

"Was it your magic?"

"Goblins…" the Mirror answered with amusement. "Voldemort is wary of me in this part of the castle. But, the goblins added a small tweak to the magic. With a little bit of concentration you and I can use wand power."

The Patil twins escorted Snape's body to one of the escape routes with Kritikos falling behind them, still Imperioused. They turned left at the end of the corridor and into the darkness. Harry focused on his Mirror as flashes of spells lighted up the sky outside.

Harry watched Emily make all the blood vials circle slowly above her, incanting a charm. A white glow surrounded the hovering bottle. When she finished her incantation, she flicked her wand and instantly all the tiny bottles were uncorked.

"Tony," Mirror Harry said, urging the boy towards him. "Ron said the Dark Lord got the Stitch?"

"Yeah he did—seemed really happy about it too—then the explosions started," the boy said darkly.

Speaking of explosions, Harry almost lost his footing as another blow hit the castle. He knew there would be minimal damage, besides broken windows and the odd façade. But for a few goblins and Grindelwald's men entering the castle to throw off the scent of the rescue, the ancient protections still existed, and his Mirror's magic were also almost impenetrable.

"Harry, can you remove the goblin magic?"

"Outside of it, yes, but from within the magic…? It can be done, but it's a lot harder than you think and time we don't have. You need to be in the right frame of mind… Goblins' magic is most powerful with fury and vengeance… you need to feel that way to remove it. Besides, we don't need to; just focus on your wand's power."

The hovering vials tipped the blood out. The crimson drops rose into the air, as though defying gravity. The blood spun around intermingling, and they watched it form into a massive red sphere.

Bowls appeared with a crack. Then the bloody sphere vanished into the bowls.

The Conditioned wasted no time. They pinched a bowl and ran into the chambers. Instantly the prisoners began screaming, before they realised what was happening was not to their detriment.

His Mirror grabbed a bowl, touched his own collar and it vanished with a pop. But then his eyes rolled back into his head again, collapsing onto Ron.

"Right, you're not fit to be doing anything," he said.

The Mirror blinked as Ron helped him. "I have to—this is my plan."

Ron didn't bend to his friend's wishes. He plucked the bowl from the Mirror's fingers. "Here Harry—sorry to involve you—but help out."

"Much obliged." Harry grabbed the bowl as Ron lowered the boy to the floor.

"I'm not an invalid!" the Mirror roared.

"Oh shut up, Potter," Marianna yelled, before she entered the dungeon.

"I need to…" He fell asleep.

Ron whistled out a long breathe. "Go Harry, I'll help him to the escape route with the boys." Tony and Michael looked like they'd rather eat bubotuber pus than help the sleeping Mage.

Looking around, Harry saw that the first lot of prisoners had begun flooding the corridor, running in every direction, not sure where to go. That was until a few of the Conditioned, accordingly positioned, helped them to go the right way.

It looked like everyone knew what they were doing. How long had his Mirror been planning this mission with the Conditioned?

The prisoners looked horrible, even worse than the prisoners in The Black Square. One chamber had tortured Aurors, another Order and Ministry rebels. One had a group of students from overseas schools. Then there was a chamber, filled sickeningly with naked, Muggle-born slaves, while other chambers had people dressed in rags. A few still wore remnants of their Hogwarts uniforms. Harry felt sick at the thought of what the Death Eaters had done to these people.

Harry struggled into a cell, bumping past elated prisoners. He stood there near the doorway with the bowl in hand, when his Mirror woke up again.

"LET GO!"

He turned back to find his Mirror pushing Ron against the wall, "I'm going last! They need me—take my brother and Tony out!"

Ignoring Ron's outburst, the Mirror grabbed a lone hovering bowl of blood and bolted into a far off dungeon.

"Harry—?" Ron looked at a loss. "I can't leave you two."

"Go Ron, you guys have been through enough tonight."

Very pale now, Ron he led them to the growing line of escaping Muggle-borns.

Harry walked calmly into a chaos, gripping onto his bowl of blood. He heard the prisoners' terror and hope all rolled into one. The stench filled his nostrils. He covered his face with his robes, and pushed through the crushing crowd of prisoners wanting his help.

"FREE ME!"

"We will, but I need to get through first—"

"Let me free!" a wizard croaked, trying to dip his whole hand in the bowl.

"Hey—watch it!" Harry blurted, raising the bowl above his head.

"HELP ME!" a witch called. She grabbed his legs.

"ME!"

"Me, please—"

Harry almost lost his balance. He was going to drown under the bodies of manic, shattered people. Harry kicked at them to release him. He pushed a few steps in, but the prisoners pressed in, their hands stretched out. They were suffocating him.

A couple of them were so desperate to be freed, that they started to fight each other. One of the Conditioned yelped, falling, the precious bowl of blood slipping from her hand. The prisoners fell over her in horrific struggle to get the blood on their restraints.

"NO!" Marianna bellowed, before backhanding a prisoner, as he was strangling the fallen rescuer.

"BACK AWAY!" Malfoy bellowed, slashing his wand.

BANG!

A bright blue light filled the dungeon. The prisoners froze, cried out, clutching their collars in pain and then they scrambled to their respective sleeping quarters.

"NO ONE WILL BE LEFT BEHIND. YOU ALL NEED TO BE PATIENT!" Malfoy roared angrily.

Susan Bones spoke up, calmly, above the whimpers. "When you are freed, walk quickly out, and follow the Death Eaters directions to the escape routes."

Harry pulled the fallen conditioned girl up. She was bleeding. She brushed her blonde fringe away from the cut and said, "thanks,' before picking up the overturned bowl. She smeared her hand with the blood on the floor and ran over to the prisoners, touching their collars.

Whatever incantation Emily had enacted, it also made the blood impervious to the ground. That allowed many prisoners to swipe the blood from the ground to help themselves.

The chaos subsided and the prisoners waited patiently with their hands outstretched for a drop of the precious fluid. Harry mimicked the Conditioned, and passed along the now neat rows of prisoners, letting them dip a finger into the bowl. Once their collars vanished, they ran out of the cell.

One of the prisoners, a teenage girl, touched Harry face, the Death Eater's blood on her fingers staining his face. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered. She gripped her little brother and they both ran.

Many had been students in various years at Hogwarts, Harry did know of some. Some of the imprisoned were entire families. While a few were children who hadn't even known they were magical until they had received fake Hogwarts letters.

"Bless you," a middle aged wizard wheezed. Harry helped him up and the wizard squeezed his hand before leaving the cell.

When the last prisoner bolted out, Harry slumped against the wall. His hands were covered in Death Eater blood, the floor smeared and slippery with it. Malfoy shook his arm. Harry saw his moving his mouth, but he didn't hear a word of it.

"…Start walking, we've got to help the others. The next bit's going to be hard."

He felt his feet move. The corridor outside was packed with scrambling prisoners going left or right.

"TO THE LEFT!" Dean and Cho yelled, pushing a single line of the prisoners along.

"THE RIGHT. THE RIGHT," Blaise ordered with Penelope by his side.

The Conditioned continued freeing the Muggle-borns and there was now an orderly, quiet and steady stream of them trickling out of the dungeons. The panic had subsided, and they could escape in peace.

"Stop!"

Everyone looked up.

Two Death Eaters ran down the steps from the direction of the potions classrooms, pushing the prisoners going right to turn left now. Harry pointed his wand at them.

"They're with us, Harry," Malfoy said. "Ministry Death Eaters."

"Marianna—we've stopped the Honeydukes route!" one of them spat.

"Death Eaters almost caught us," puffed the other wizard. "It's closed off now—too dangerous—the goblins are moving the fight to that part of the castle."

"They're not supposed to infiltrate like this—how the hell are they getting through the magic? Harry?"

"I left a hole in the magic," the Mirror replied, holding an unconscious girl in his arms. "Here Dean, take her—I can't hold her." The dark boy obeyed and ran to the only open escape route with the girl. The Mirror rested against the wall.

"Alright, we'll continue with the Shrieking Shack route. There aren't many now, anyway," Marianna said.

It was much more peaceful now, except for the pounding explosions and screams echoing out of the castle, until finally, there were only a couple of prisoners left.

Emily, pale as a ghost, was waving the prisoners on. Behind her, Lucius Malfoy was staring at the wall, his fingers twitching. Draco Malfoy was now watching his father, and Harry knew he was worried about him.

"Harry," the Mirror said. "Follow the others out. We only have minutes left before the passage closes up. We'll finish up here—"

Emily screamed.

"DAD!"

Harry whipped around.

"Did you think I wouldn't eventually fight off the curse, you stupid bitch?" Lucius Malfoy gritted, looking murderous.

He held Emily steadfast in his arms, her hands magically bound behind her back. Her wand and dagger now precariously positioned at her throat. Harry could see a line of blood on the blade.

"DAD, PLEASE!" Draco pleaded, pointing his wand at his father.

"Don't you come closer, Draco," his father spat. "What have you done?" There was a look of betrayal on his face.

"Dad," he approached slowly. "Please let her go—"

"TRAITORS!" Lucius was livid. "YOU. You betrayed us, Draco! You betrayed your own family—step a foot closer, Potter, and I will cut her throat!"

Harry didn't move another muscle at Lucius's warning.

Emily was in shock and scared. Harry saw all those emotions displayed on her ashen, plain face.

Malfoy cocked his head, staring at Harry. Then his eyes roved onto the Mirror's. "Which is the real one?"

Mirror Harry stepped ahead, confidently, silently.

Lucius nodded slowly. "Draco, I'll only say this once. Summon the Dark Lord, kill them, and I will forget that you were involved. If you do not, I will kill the girl and I hope you run, because we will track you down."

"Are you going to kill your only son?" Draco's nostrils flared, his cheeks turning pink.

The last two prisoners screamed and fled, leaving only a few of the Conditioned watching the struggle anxiously.

"It's too late Lucius. The Dark Lord will kill you anyway," Mirror Harry smirked.

Malfoy's grey eyes were bulging. "Don't you dare talk to me, you filthy, fucking WHORE!"

"Oh, now, that's harsh," the Mirror tutted.

"YOU RUINED MY SON!"

"I ruined…? No, Draco made his choice. The right choice," Mirror Harry said softly, his eyes blazing now. "Conditioned, go with the prisoners," he ordered. They obeyed, leaving only Harry, Draco and Marianna behind to try and save Emily.

"Harry, I told you to go." He shook his head and he saw his Mirror grimacing at him.

Lucius abruptly laughed. "He should've killed you, than give you to Bellatrix."

"I wish he did too."

Suddenly it felt as though the temperature of the dungeon corridor drop hastily. Even though his Mirror could not command his power, Harry knew he was at least trying to.

"Dad, think about this. I'm you're son. You're on the wrong side. If you turn, Dumbledore will give you immunity."

"Dumbledore?" Lucius's stared in disbelief into his son's face. Emily whimpered, suddenly struggling to free herself, inadvertently driving the blade deeper into her neck. "I have no son." Then with one swift movement, Lucius slit her throat.

"NOOOOOO!" they screamed.

Lucius threw Emily on the ground as blood spurted from her neck, and he touched his Dark Mark.

Harry didn't expect the pain. He fell to his knees, his scar burning so ferociously he thought death would be a godsend.

Voldemort was furious.

"YOU'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

Harry clutched his head, while bodies—and feet—scrambled over him. Harry felt his wand ripped from his fingers as the pain threatened to knock him out cold.

"NO, HARRY!"

His Mirror ripped through the Dark magic of the corridor, and let a jet of green light fill every space.

Then Harry's world turned dark.

He saw the courtyard of Hogwarts full of Dead Death Eaters, Grindelwald's men and goblins. Those alive were battling it out with a flurry of bright spells. The battlement had collapsed, and smoke rose everywhere. But now, Voldemort knew of the deception, he heard Lucius's silent message:

Traitors have freed the Mudbloods...

ARGHHHHH! Harry wanted to claw his scar off and rip the Horcrux right out of him. He heard yelling and someone was trying to pull him up, but their grip slackened. Harry fell on the ground once more, writhing in pain.

Then there was relief. Harry felt the cool stone beneath his cheek. He was panting and his head was sore. He opened his eyes to find a trail of blood and a heavy thrum of footsteps against his ear. The focus of the battle had turned. Voldemort was after them.

Someone was trying to move him again. But all Harry focused on was Lucius Malfoy dead and splayed on the floor.

"HARRY, GET UP!" Draco yelled, terror in every inch of his face. "THEY'RE COMING!"

"Emily…" Harry struggled up.

He looked into Malfoy's grey eyes, the exact same shade as his father's. There was grief and terror in them as he gripped Harry's shoulders. "Let's go."

Mirror Harry was metres ahead, dragging Emily with him. But he collapsed.

"FUCK!" Marianna swore in panic.

The Mirror was unconscious again. Emily looked up, deathly pale, her front covered in her own blood and her half healed wound still dripping blood.

Harry's head was pounding. He couldn't focus straight. All he could feel was Voldemort's thoughts and feelings. He hadn't felt like this for many months.

"Move—Harry—JUST FUCKING MOVE!' Malfoy screamed.

But Harry couldn't. Again his scar exploded in pain.

Voldemort entered the potions classroom but found the chamber housing Snape and his Mirror empty. There was a small smile on his lips at the realisation, and at the obvious betrayal. He would make them pay… Voldemort then summoned for reinforcements—

"Get help!" Malfoy yelled. Harry winced and saw Emily weakly fumble for her coin.

Moments later, help arrived. "What happened?" Dean said out of breath, eyes wide at the blood on Emily.

"No time to explain—run—now!" Marianna roared, pulling Mirror Harry up by his robes, dragging him along.

The Mirror groaned awake, staring weakly at them. "He's angry."

"You think?" snapped Harry, rubbing his scar, finally able to walk on his own. In fact, they needed to run. Harry's scar pain clouded all his thoughts.

They bolted down the corridor, and then left, half holding each other up.

Then there was a voice that chilled every cell in his body.

"HARRY!" she called, her shrill voice echoing through. "HARRY!"

Running footsteps echoed down the now deserted dungeon corridor. Harry turned back, and any moment he'd see her face.

"HARRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYY, WHERE ARE YOU?" she screeched.

"Quick! This way," Dean said. "The route to the Shrieking Shack is being held open—we've gone over the time limit."

They rushed down a spiral staircase that seemed to lead nowhere and into a stone, high ceiling tunnel. Harry thought they were underneath the lake, as water drops splattered around them.

"Where's the escape route?" Harry asked, squinting in the darkness.

"Further up," replied Draco in barely a whisper. "We will be able to Portkey from the Shrieking Shack once we get through. We hid some there."

"We better be quick," Marianna wheezed, as she scooped up a small child into her arms after she had spotted him hiding behind a suit of armour. "Once it closes off we're screwed."

Harry saw the last eight prisoners waiting to enter a small dug out passage. His scar was aching furiously, and at times it was almost crippling. Voldemort was close and Bellatrix was at their heels.

At either side of the hole, the same Ministry Death Eaters were trying with all their magic to hold the route open. Harry could see the edges of the hole quivering, trying to close in on itself.

"Move—move—move!" Draco and Dean pushed the last prisoners in without restraint.

The urgency was numbing, and Harry knew if they slipped up now, he would never go home.

"HARRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

Her voice echoed, making Harry's blood run cold.

"That bitch just doesn't give up, eh?" the Mirror chuckled. Harry saw a sick thrill of excitement in his eyes.

Three prisoners, then two, then one…

The Ministry Death Eaters gave them an apologetic look as they relinquished their magic from keeping the passage open and hopped into it, disappearing into the darkness.

Emily croaked, massaging her neck with a hand, as she staggered into the passage with Draco's help. Harry bit his lip and saw that the hole was starting to shrink.

Draco inhaled sharply, panic in his face. "The hole will close in a minute—oh Merlin!"

Suddenly a violet spell sizzled into the tunnel bouncing everywhere. Until—

"DUCK!" Harry yelled.

But Dean hadn't been quick enough, and the spell hit him through the back. Blood sprayed everywhere. The dark wizard swayed on the spot as Harry staggered upright. Dean opened his mouth in a silent, terrified scream, before falling on him, knocking them both to the ground

"Dean? DEAN!" he yelled, shaking the boy.

"It's too late, he's gone." The Mirror pulled Dean's body off of him and he rose weakly with Harry's wand in hand.

"Give me back my wand!" Harry yelled, still feeling the shock of Dean's death burning through his mind… his blood was still warm on his face. But the Mirror pushed him away.

"There you are, my darling." Bellatrix finally showed up. Her chest was heaving. Oh Harry knew she was enjoying this.

The Mirror jabbed the stolen wand, but Bellatrix moved out of the way. The fiery spell hit a Death Eater behind in the stomach. He exploded in green fire. "This is definitely the wand I was always meant to have. HA!"

The screams were terrible. Yet, Bellatrix didn't even turn to help the poor Death Eater. She was smiling at the Mirror.

"Harry, give me my wand back!" Harry growled, as he pushed Marianna in the closing passage way, before himself. But his Mirror's utter attention was on Bella.

Bellatrix chuckled, as Mulciber, Rowle and that tattooed witch appeared by her side, stepping over the now dead Death Eater and the flames.

"Well, what do we have here?" Bella said breathlessly, her wand aimed squarely at the Mirror as the light of the fire, the smell of burning flesh and grey smoke filled the tunnel.

"Harry—my wand!" Harry coughed, inching forward to his Mirror. The Mirror again pushed him away.

"Draco, you disappoint me." She licked her lips, but she wasn't staring at her nephew, she continued focusing on the Mirror, and then, she locked her eyes on Harry's.

Oh fuck! He thought. "Go," Harry whispered, pulling Draco into the hole. The hole was half its size it was a thirty seconds ago.

"But—"

"Just leave!" Harry snarled. "You need to worry about your mother now."

And without a backward glance, Malfoy pushed himself through the closing hole.

This is the end, he thought. In ten seconds they wouldn't be able to get through the hole. The Mirror stepped back. Harry managed to get half his body through when Bellatrix spoke.

"Well, two Harry Potters…Who is the real one?" She lazily waved her wand. A brilliant yellow light swung their way, but the Mirror deflected the spell. It bounced off the golden shield he created.

"I am of course," the Mirror said, coolly. "This one's merely the decoy." He turned back, with a dangerous smirk on his face that almost stopped Harry's heart. However his eyes betrayed his façade. Harry saw fear in them: the hidden, haunting fear of his Mentor Bellatrix. And through their connection, the Mirror said one word.

"Sorry."

"Wha—?"

The Mirror yanked him out of the enclosing, crushing hole. Harry smacked against the opposite wall. He turned round to see his Mirror squeezing into the small opening. Spells whizzed onto the shield protecting them, puffing out into nothing.

"NO!" Harry yelled. This can't be happening! He scrambled to it, but the hole was now as big as a soccer ball, then the size of a fist…

Suddenly a map was pushed through the ever shrinking hole.

"Run."

Then the hole was the width of a finger, a pinprick, and then with a flash of white, blinding light, it was nothing but a stone wall again.

"NO! LET ME IN!" he roared, panic and terror numbing his brain. Harry's hands scrabbled at the stone wall, desperate to dig at the stone—to somehow open the escape route again.

"I'd run now If I were you."

"FUCK YOU!"

He saw the Death Eaters running at him. The golden shield disappeared and he felt a spell singe his hair. It hit the wall at the far end of the tunnel, exploding in a fireball of bright, red sparks and smoke.

Fuck! He picked up the map, Dean's wand, turned on his heel and bolted, covering his head from the white hot spells aimed at him. He jumped through the red smoke as Bellatrix's cold laughter rung in his ears.

41. The Fury

The Fury

"Why have you called us in for an emergency meeting, Dumbledore?" a silvery haired goblin grunted. He and six others took a seat at Molly's kitchen table.

Dumbledore, the Ministry heads and the European Auror Commanders took a seat as well before he began to tell the goblins why. Dumbledore held grave fears for Harry, Emily and the boys.

"Chief Bladak, there is disturbing report that a battle is currently occurring at Hogwarts… instigated by a disgruntled faction of your goblin army." He screened the seven goblin elders sitting in front of him. "Do you know anything about it? Brandy anyone?"

"Instigated? Now that's a strong word, Dumbledore," Bladak replied.

There was a moment of silence, and then the goblins banded together whispering in Gobbledegook.

"Perhaps you should look a little closer under your own nose, before you sniff into our business." Bladak's beady, black eyes were cold and scrutinising. "And yes, we've we wouldn't mind a nip of brandy."

A bottle and glasses appeared with the wave of his wand. Brandy was poured, and the glasses hovered over the goblins and wizards.

"Do you mean to say, someone in the Order, has organised this attack?" Amelia asked, taking a sip.

The goblins grumbled, and in an almost synchronised movement, they grabbed their glasses and drank in one go.

"We don't reveal secrets," Bladak finally answered, licking his lips.

"The same with us," snarled Gawain. "However, we're on the same side and we need to act as one."

Bladak stared into Dumbledore's face and suddenly grinned. His tiny, sharp teeth emphasised even more the ugliness of his features. "Don't assume that we're not acting as one."

"Oh?"

"Grindelwald's men, your Conditioned, and our goblins are all in this. Looks like we've done something without your knowing, Dumbledore… aren't we bad, eh?"

"Who asked for your support?" He straightened up, with a sudden cold feeling gripping his heart.

Another goblin shifted in his seat and spoke up, "A girl with blue eyes—a Death Eater."

"Was it Emily Miles, Elder Grednik?" Dumbledore frowned.

The goblin nodded. He was the tinniest goblin in the group and also the oldest. "She wanted our help in exchange for our revenge and some gladly accepted."

"What's going on, Albus?" the Minister asked warily.

"Forgive me, Amelia, but I'm as much in the dark about this as you are." He downed his brandy in one gulp. He ordered the bottle to pour more as the new Ministry members stared at him. "So Emily organised this?"

"No, she was acting under Mage Potter's orders," Bladak replied for the elder.

Amelia and Gawain gasped. The European Aurors whispered amongst themselves, while Kingsley just crossed his arms and let out a great, humourless snort.

Dumbledore eyebrows flicked up in surprise, albeit he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad surprise just yet. "Harry Potter is in a cursed sleep."

"He might be, but the girl used his name for this little plot."

"I see... Did she reveal anything else to you?"

Bladak tapped his gnarly fingers on the table, making the bottle of brandy whiz his way. "Only that a couple of our cutthroat goblins had to attack and kill the dungeon guards, while Mile's little—how did she put it, Grednik?

"—Dumbledore's Army—"

"Are put to work. The rest of the goblins involved would be free to take down as many grubby-fingered, Death Eating thieves they could handle."

"What in Merlin's blazing balls is going on!" Amelia clipped. "Dumbledore's Army—?"

"Amelia," Gawain rubbed his chin, "our Conditioned are freeing the prisoners."

"I didn't know any of this," Albus said, more so to the Order, "and I didn't realise Emily called them, Dumbledore's Army." He said grimly. "But it is risky, and foolish, and it will put many more lives in danger."

"Something which you are used to doing," Bladak hissed.

Anger rising into his cheeks, Dumbledore turned to the Auror Commanders and said calmly. "Aurors, would you mind waiting outside the Order perimeters? I think we will be expecting—hopefully—only friendly visitors soon." The Auror Commanders left quietly, although Kingsley's gaze remained locked on him for a long while. "And prepare the Healers."

Bladak whispered to his companions and one by one they left, leaving him the lone goblin at the table. "I want to talk to you in private, Dumbledore." His eyes flicked onto the Ministry heads.

"I think now isn't a good time for private discussions, Chief Bladak," barked Gawain.

"I disagree, I think this will be the perfect time for one, considering there will be a lot of, shall we say—chaos— in the very near future."

Without a word, Amelia nodded, stood up and left, the others soon followed. The goblin waved his hand back, using his power to lock the door, and the room lit in a purple light to guard their secrets.

"Speaking of… Instigation…" Bladak leaned forward. "You owe me an explanation."

"About?" asked Dumbledore politely, trying to tame his anger at the goblins, Gellert, and the Conditioned.

"The Gringotts takeover."

"I have already explained this in the dozen or so emergency goblin council meetings the new Ministry attended."

The goblin licked his lip, looking disdainfully at him. "We want the man behind it."

This is going to be a long night. "Voldemort—"

"Do not insult our intelligence, Dumbledore! The elders have known from the beginning," Bladak spat.

"How very intuitive—"

"You are working with Grindelwald! And slowly, not only does he grow his own army with Death Eaters, but he's plucking your own Order members. We have not forgotten what he was like sixty years ago, and we will not bow down to him. And we have never forgotten your role."

"No one is going to forget. I certainly haven't. Lord Grindelwald is working under me. Yes he has had the liberty of using my followers, even though, I do not approve of this tactic."

Again Bladak smiled, his grin reeking of knowledge. "Are you sure he is under your control?"

"Whole-heartedly—although at times, he has his own goals to pursue."

Chief Bladak didn't look too convinced.

"Dumbledore, we want the man who stirred the rumours, who instilled panic into us, who almost incited war before there was even a whiff of true danger… we want James Potter."

Dumbledore almost laughed, but he covered it with a cough. "He had no choice! He was used by Grindelwald for that purpose, and in the end it was planned—"

"—It was all planned by you—!"

"I only knew then when and how of a plan, but it was Grindelwald who organised it, and displayed his little faux power grab at Gringotts—"

"This, according to his plot, forced Voldemort to act and steal our gold, destroy the bank, and kill my kin!" Bladak roared furiously.

"We are deeply sorry for your loss—"

"Your can stick your sorrow up a deep dark crevice for all we care!"

"However, that gold stolen belongs to us."

Bladak stared menacingly at Dumbledore. His gnarled hands were in tight fists.

"Why do you want James?"

"Because it will be near impossible bringing you and Grindelwald down, and I'm sure it would cause another war if we tried. A war we cannot afford. And without our bank, and our wealth, we will weaken."

Dumbledore shook his head. "It cannot be done."

But Bladak wasn't backing down with his request. "We want James Potter—"

"NO!"

The silence felt deafening as they stared at each other, and the lights overhead flickered or brightened dangerous. Yes, he felt the surge of magic in the room.

"We were used, we know." Bladak's unnaturally thin nose flared. "And you, Dumbledore, have the propensity for playing the greatest puppeteer of our age. But watch out, those strings you've attached to your puppets are snapping, one by one… by one."

But of course, he knew that was going to happen from the very beginning. It was a risk, a deadly risk he had to weigh with Harry and Gellert. He closed his eyes, his eyes suddenly aching.

"Lucky for you, we haven't told our kin, yet," the goblin emphasised. "We will help you end this war. There is no denying that the destruction of Gringotts was going to happen, plot or no plot by you."

"I'm happy that you do realise that."

"But," Bladak shook a finger, "I may just let slip what really happened when the war's over, if we don't get what we want."

Leaning back in his chair, he suddenly felt very tired. He crossed his arms, thinking that this didn't seem right, that there was something the goblin was hiding. "You can't have James Potter. He was naught but a pawn—"

The goblin banged a heavy fist on the table.

"Let me finish, Bladak!" Dumbledore snapped with fiery anger. "But you can try to bring down Grindelwald! You will have my support and that of the Ministry's."

There was a twinge of cold hard guilt in his gut, though he knew eventually Gellert had to be cauterised. He sadly wished his friend would honour their original agreement to walk away. In his heart, he knew Gellert was enjoying his newfound power, and was abusing it.

Bladak's eyes flashed. He played with his plaited beard for a moment. "Like I said, we'd love too, but it would be impossible. And if you can betray your old friend so easily, how can we trust your offer?"

"He is not my friend! He is—like you said—my puppet." Dumbledore sighed deeply, pinching the crook of his nose. "I'm afraid I have nothing else to offer you."

"Not good enough! If we can't have James Potter," Bladak hissed, "then we want his Mage son."

Dumbledore's heart skipped a beat. He was careful not to show a hint of surprise. Oh I see… smart… very smart. Now the truth comes out.

"I think you're reaching too far, Chief Bladak," he warned. His was voice barely a whisper now. "The boy has nothing to do—"

"I have a thousand dead goblins that need burying, Dumbledore—and a few more after tonight. Not to mention we have a rubble of a bank that's collapsed in. No gold and sub par weapons, because Voldemort stole the best of them. You're lucky I've managed to stop the elders from having you murdered!"

He wondered how that scene would've played out. Now, he was now deeply suspicious why they would want Harry.

"My position is precarious enough, especially if I go back empty-handed."

"We can protect you."

"HA!" Bladak laughed. "Your protection is nothing. The boy needs to pay us."

"From what I gather, you have been paid with sweet revenge tonight."

"Not enough." The goblin shook his head.

"Bladak, you're asking for far too much. The boy has suffered greatly, and if he indeed, survives the war, he is a Death Eater who will—"

"Exactly, Dumbledore!" the goblin said in a high voice. "He is a war criminal. If caught, he will face justice. Azkaban exists no more. So instead of shipping him off to Nurmengard, we want the boy in our services—"

"—But you are assuming the boy is guilty—"

"Well he's definitely no innocent."

"That we can agree on, however, the boy, like many of the prisoners in The Black Square, never received a trial. We never heard his story."

Bladak sighed loudly. "We don't want to hurt him, Dumbledore."

"Really?"

The goblin clasped his hands on the table. "You have my word, and that of the elders, that he will be protected. We won't even treat him like a prisoner. In fact he will be respected. We've been watching the boy—"

"For a long time. Why?"

"You know why, we are interested in his power. We knew we would need him one day, one way or another. Now an opportunity has arisen. We are slowly losing our power without the wealth and need him to help rebuild Gringotts."

"Why Harry? He is not the only Mage in the world."

"There is history..."

"Of what?" He was slightly confused now.

"You—Dumbledore—one of the greatest wizards to walk this earth, don't know?"

"Believe me I am always learning something new."

"Alright…" Bladak crossed his arms, and stared cold and hard for a moment. "I'll let you in on a deeply seeded secret only goblins know then." He sniffed with pride.

"I can't wait."

"A thousand years ago, Peverell helped my kin. They were dying of famine and disease from the sharp decline of mined gold and precious stone. Not even our dwarf cousins on the continent could help."

"Yes, as I recall, eighty percent of your population had been wiped out because of it," Dumbledore said. "And we know that Lord Cyneric Peverell helped, when no one else did."

"But he also helped build Gringotts in the beginning, when the bank was nothing but an idea, and a deep underground cave."

Now he was surprised. "Your people let a wizard help built the bank?"

Bladak nodded. "My kin, powerless and weak with disease, could not even realise this dream. Peverell offered us to mine minerals on his land, but gold and precious stone, is what gives us power and life. Everything else weakens us. Peverell did not want us to be die out or move to the continent, where there were better mines and compete with the dwarfs. He wanted us to prosper as our ancestors had on our stone, in England."

"That was very noble of him."

"He respected us, and all other beings, when the rest of your kind ostracised and wanted to control us. So he used his magic to build the bank when we couldn't."

"One wizard could not do it alone," Dumbledore said warily.

"He was not just a wizard, Dumbledore. We called him the Great Mage Peverell."

He narrowed his eyes. So Mages did come from the Potter's line after all.

"Does the myth of the Death Hallows stem from Peverell's descendants?"

"Yes."

"Some of my kin believe Death was the great Mage himself, as death is the final phase to accomplish."

"What makes you think that?"

"This is our version of the myth—some based on truth. Peverell was three hundred years old when he died. He had progressed through all the Mage levels, looking no older than the day he had begun building the bank. His sons, daughters and grandchildren had passed, but he still lived. So he put all his power into those objects as his final gift to the world, and on his death bed, he presented them to his three living descendents of his first born son. Three brothers they were."

"Or the Peverell brothers were Mages and had created the objects themselves."

"Whatever the truth, it would explain the extraordinary, unnatural power the Deathly Hallow objects have. We know they're real, Dumbledore. We had two of them recorded to be in our vaults for a time, until Cadmus's grandson claimed the Stone, and Ignotus's granddaughter claimed the cloak."

Wood: the element of natural power for the Elder Wand. Stone: the element of earth for the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak, representing the elements of air and for that, that cannot be seen. Yes, I see it, definitely the fingerprint of a Mage or Mages. Dumbledore always enjoyed learning something new.

"So why don't we wizards know this history about Cyneric Peverell?"

"Because Lord Peverell did not want anyone to know he was a natural born Mage. And it seems his secret has been safe for a thousand years."

"So it seems…"

"Yes, otherwise even Hogwarts would still be a leaky wooden hut today." The goblin smirked, puffing up his barrelled chest. "And this is when his story gets dirty..."

"Lord Peverell was interested in the systemised education of young wizards and witches, as well as many other noble wizards at the time. He regularly met the founders of Hogwarts since he had three young sisters that needed to be trained in magic."

The goblin nodded. "But, from what I understand, there was animosity between Peverell and Slytherin."

"There were many who did not share Slytherin's ideals. But there was just as many who wanted to populate the world with Muggle-borns and strengthen our population. Cyneric was one of them."

"Yes and there was a time when Gryffindor secretly plotted with Peverell to have Slytherin kicked out of the school and council," Bladak added.

"Sometimes I fear we have sanitised the history of Hogwarts…"

The goblin laughed and clasped his hands. "So, Dumbledore, tell me why then would Peverell end up marrying Slytherin's only child, Elvira Maria?"

"It was to seal the funds and power to help build Hogwarts."

"That's only half of the story! Salazar Sytherin spied on him and blackmailed him into marrying his daughter on the fact that he was a Mage. He could've only blackmailed Peverell for his wealth and manpower… So why also make him marry? Peverell was thirty, and the girl was twelve."

Though it was legal in that day and age. "Perhaps he wanted the ability to continue down the line and hopefully… his heir would…" A wave of an indescribable dark feeling coursed through Dumbledore's body. An image of 103 dead Muggle-borns in the darkened hallway flashed across his mind.

Salazar wanted to create a descendant with the right abilities to conquer them all.

But Harry was not the Heir of Slytherin. That they knew. But he was a Mage. Voldemort was Slytherin's heir by default, because Antioch had died without issue, so the blood right has carried on through Cadmus's descendents.

And now they clash…

"This… this blackmail is quite revealing." Dumbledore pinched his chin in thought.

"It is. Peverell kept a lot to himself. Even though he was a hard fellow with years of service to the House of Wessex, he saw that we needed help, when you wizards turned a blind eye to our suffering. Even the Hogwarts founders ignored our plight—"

"Particularly Salazar Slytherin as he would've thought that magical beings besides wizards were beneath them." He nodded. "But the founders at the time were struggling with ideas for the school that was still, as you said a wooden hut."

"Peverell was worried. He had great power, influence and land, even amongst the noble Muggles. And all that would've been forfeited to the Wizard Council and corruptly into their pockets. He would've been executed on the moral ground that he had been using the Dark Arts. That's if, if Slytherin had talked about his Mage ability, and had the story backed up with a few stray goblins he had bribed for this very occasion... But as you know Slytherin himself was no stranger to Dark magic and abilities."

"Well..." Dumbledore started, sipping more brandy. "This is truly enlightening. Perhaps we should write all this into Hogwarts: A History."

"I'd like to see that unbiased copy on my desk!" Bladak tapped the table, ordering more brandy. "Mages and goblins use the ancient power—"

"No offence, Chief Bladak, but Mages differ. Goblins draw power from the precious stone and metals around them—Mages have the power in them and from everything."

"However, we are all similar in the way our magic works." He smiled. "And we've both been run into the dirt by your feeble and violent society for millenniums. Now the boy shares the ancient gift and we need him."

"He will never listen to me," Dumbledore whispered.

"But you will try to talk to him."

"I will," he said in resignation. "Either, he will come to you quietly, or he will be forced to."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Bladak. "Shall we drink to it?"

"Tell me Bladak, you never wanted James Potter to start with. It was always about Harry, wasn't it?"

He raised his glass with another ugly smile on his lips. "We love to be tricky, Dum—"

The kitchen door burst open and Kingsley entered. "Dumbledore, Chief Bladak—you need to come see this!"

(******)

There was a hushed murmur sweeping along the refugee camp, and many frightened faces watched Dumbledore and Bladak approach the boundary. They walked through the protective enchantments and found the Aurors staring at the bodies of eight goblins and wizards. The bodies were not strewn on the ground, but hovered vertically in front of them, surrounded by a strange, glowing blue mist.

And on the ground, the corpses had claimed its first victim. An Auror shook violently, his eyes pale, while he frothed blood from the mouth. Though no one could help him, they knew touching him or the corpses and the mist would curse them.

Careful not to enter the mist, Albus patrolled them from afar. He saw the broken body of a conditioned boy. He always remembered his students, but now, he would never forget the lifeless face of Dean Thomas. He moved to the next few bodies, standing rigid. There were two Grindelwald supporters and the rest were rogue goblins.

Bladak was speechless as he fell in front of the elder goblins who stared in shock.

"This is Dark," growled Gawain "This is—"

"Mocking the dead," hissed Amelia.

By now, the senior members of the Order had discovered the scene. Albus heard them displaying their shock.

"Have they been turned into inferi?" a German Auror whispered.

"No… the bodies have not been reanimated, and the inferi cannot talk. But, I deduce these bodies will soon give us a message," concluded Dumbledore, remembering a boy in a similar state before.

"What, a message clearer than this?" James grimaced.

Dumbledore saw the goblins following James's every move. "I'm afraid so."

Then all eight of the corpses' eyes opened, revealing pale, glistening pupils.

"MOVE AWAY!" commanded Kingsley.

"Holy shit!" Fred and George exclaimed at once.

The hovering corpses inhaled sharply as though taking a single, last breath of life. Then they opened their mouths. They had never seen this sort of magic before.

The corpse of Dean Thomas spoke first, in a high whisper, reminiscent of Voldemort's. "Bring us…"

"Harry Potter…" said the second corpse.

"…By the…"

"New day's end," hissed Grindelwald's man.

"…And…."

"None..."

"Shall…"

"Perish…" concluded, the last dead goblin.

The dead bowed their heads, eyes closing, and exhaled with a deep rattling breath. They fell sharply to the ground with the mist swirling ominously around them.

"Merde!" whispered Commander Larue.

"I think we will need Curse Specialists to remove the spells, before we can handle the bodies," said Bill sombrely. "I've seen something similar happen in a pyramid."

Dumbledore saw James looking both worried and excited.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

"Walk with me, James."

There was nothing more to see as he retreated away from the gruesome scene. But he did not return to the Order, instead he walked into the dark field beyond and up the road a little, with James, Arthur, Gawain and Kingsley following.

He couldn't help but smile, because Harry was awake and had escaped.

Kingsley looked alert. "I thought you said we were getting friendlies—"

"We will."

"You mean… he's coming?" James whispered faintly.

And then they saw it, a silver glowing creature galloping in the darkness like a beacon of light. It grew bigger and bigger, until he could see its tasks and its heavy body, and a long robust snout. The Patronus stopped in front of them and pawed the dirt.

James gasped. "Harry!"

Then the boar Patronus spoke. "We're coming. We need help. Let us in."

"We're ready," replied Dumbledore. He approached the boar, and whispered the Order's address. The Patronus bowed and then galloped back the way it came.

Minutes later, in the darkness, they saw a multitude of lit wands. By now the Aurors had lined up next to them, ready to fight if things turned for the worst. As the friendlies arrived, there was no hostility and no Death Eaters attacking. There were only the faces of the exhausted Conditioned with their injured, and the prisoners they had rescued.

Harry Potter emerged from the group, making several of the Aurors aim their wands on him. The boy smiled back dangerously as he scanned them all.

Amelia turned to the Auror Commanders by her side. "Let the group through, including Harry Potter."

There were several shouts of, "prepare the Healers!"

The rescued moved wordlessly past them.

"You're a wanted man, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking around for the boy's Mirror. "Voldemort has sent us a message for your return."

"I would too, if my prized possession went AWOL." The boy turned around, waving a hand at the group to keep moving. "I think it's time to get things rolling."

The prisoners helped each other through the Order enchantments.

"Oh yes. I am happy you are awake." Dumbledore noticed how deathly pale the boy was under his untidy black hair, and against the blood that stained his face. He could see so much anger in those green irises.

A girl with blonde hair passed Harry and smiled at the Minister for Magic. "Hello Auntie Amelia. Do you remember me?"

"Oh…" Amelia said, breathlessly. "Oh Susan, you poor, poor girl—come here." They embraced each other in a tight hug.

"Emily!" Octavia yelled through the silence, almost knocking Bill out of the way. "Emily—Dear God—what happened?"

"I'm… I'm okay, Mum," she croaked, holding a bloodied rag to her throat. "Harry saved me."

With a sigh of relief, Dumbledore saw Severus's unconscious body hovering past.

The Healer whisked her daughter away, but not before the girl gave Harry a reproachful look. And in that one expression, Dumbledore knew something was wrong.

There was a crack near them and Draco Malfoy appeared with his bloodied, unconscious mother.

Harry rushed to them. "What happened?"

"What do you think happened?" Draco yelled. "They attacked us—I got there just in time! My whole house is destroyed!"

"Help Draco take Narcissa to a Healer." James motioned for Emmeline and Dedalus.

Meanwhile, Ronald Weasley was speaking with his father and brothers, and they helped him limp back into the Order.

"Harry?" James approached his son hesitantly

Though, before the boy could say a word, Michael and Anthony Pettigrew bolted for James.

"DAD!"

James hugged the children. In that instant Harry brushed past them and through the Order enchantments.

"Wait Harry, we must talk—"

"That can wait, Dumbledore."

But he had caught up with the boy's quick strides and gripped his shoulder. "Where is your Mirror?"

"I left him at Hogwarts," he replied softly.

"You…" Dumbledore let go, like he had been stung. "You did what?"

"You heard me. It had to be done. It was either me or him and I made the decision."

"But… you left the one boy who has saved you."

"I took a leaf out of your book." He smiled back savagely.

"Harry!"

"I am trying to fight and I can't do it while stuck at Hogwarts! Tough decisions had to be made," he spat back.

"I am not proud of you, Harry," he whispered.

Harry laughed coldly. "Does it look like I care?" The boy stormed off, ignoring the astonished and terrified looks around him. There were whispers everywhere, many even running away from the young Mage.

"Dumbledore, why are you letting Harry Potter through?" one shocked wizard asked.

"Because the boy is on our side."

(******)

The moment Lily had arrived at the Order she knew it was going to be a chaotic night.

"Roll up your sleeves, Lily, we'll need your help," Agnes said. "And… ah, sit down for a moment."

"But—"

The Healer guided her to a stool. "Michael and Tony are safe. We've patched them up, and they're resting inside. Snape in the hospital marquee—we'll stabilise him before we will transfer him to Remus's, and—"

"Ha-harry and Emily?"

Agnes looked away. Instantly, Lily felt sick.

"Emily is recovering, but Lily, your Mirror son never arrived with the group. Your son did."

Lily covered her mouth, tears burning her eyes. Her son was here. Here. Agnes squeezed her arm as all her thoughts now centred on her Mirror child.

"Lily, he's here, and there's no turning your back on him now—Lily! Where are you going?"

In a daze, she pushed through the bustling crowd of anxious people, wondering if their children, husbands or wives were part of the rescued group and ran into the Weasley's house. The first thing she heard was a lot of shouting.

The Weasleys had all congregated around the couch, looking just as shocked as the rest of the Order was as they glared at Lily's Death Eater son. Molly looked as though she was about to cry and Ginny seemed like she wanted to curse him.

"YOU SHOULD'VE GOTTEN HIM OUT!" Ron bellowed in fury. His arm was bandaged and in a sling now.

Parvati held Harry's arm as he yelled back. "I HAD TO—"

"YOU JUST SAVED YOUR OWN SKIN!"

"How could you?" Ginny spat. "After everything he's done for you—"

Harry turned on her. "And since when have you cared about me?"

Her wand sparked, but her father restrained her. "I don't want to see you hurt, Harry."

"Harry," Lily gasped. "Did—did you leave him there?"

Her son's steely gaze sent a chill through her. He seemed slightly distant, his mind elsewhere. For a quick second he closed his eyes, his fingers gripping a galleon.

She slowly approached him, drinking in his features. He was taller than the last time she had seen him—right before Azkaban. He was exactly his Mirror's height, same hair, yet so unlike the child she remembered.

"Yes," he hissed.

"Why?"

"You wish I was him... don't you?" He flipped the galleon in his hand.

She could've slapped him. She could've shook his thin shoulders and tell him, that she was so ashamed of him. But no, Lily was exhausted. She was tired of caring, of hoping, of wishing that her little boy would come back to her.

"Say something."

"After everything you've done," she stared into his eyes, searching for that one ounce of good she believed he still had, "you're not convincing me otherwise." She stalked off to find Michael and Tony.

(******)

Out of breath, Harry tripped into a dark space behind a suit of armour that he knew was connected to a hidden corridor. He had no time to reconnect with his Mirror and give him a mouthful of what he was truly thinking.

"I saw him go this way," a Death Eater yelled.

Finally able to use his magic in this part of the castle, Harry Disillusioned himself, just as a dozen or so pairs of feet ran down the corridor searching for him.

"Dreadford, Ebner, check all the classrooms," Alecto Carrow wheezed, opening a door to a classroom.

Harry held his breath, as one Death Eater tiptoed towards his hidden spot. The suit of armour squeaked. Shit, Harry thought. The Death Eater sniffed the darkness.

Suddenly, there was a crash somewhere, and the Death Eaters retreated, running to the source of the noise.

"We've got 'im!" Carrow said excitedly.

Harry waited until he couldn't hear them anymore to let out a breath. After a couple of minutes he allowed himself to move. He took out the Marauder's Map and had a quick look.

The entire castle was crawling with black Death Eater dots. Harry found his location, wondering if it would be safe to walk again, and then, he froze.

Behind the little dot labelled, Harry Potter, there was another dot: Fergus Yaxley.

Harry turned around slowly, his heart hammering furiously. The Death Eater had Disillusioned himself as well. He removed his spell just as Harry removed his. There was no point hiding when he had a wand pointed at his heart.

"Well Potter," he said, with his thick Scottish accent. "I always knew you up to no good. But prisoners always look after each other."

"Why are you in hiding?"

"Waiting for you." He threw Harry his gold galleon, and it clanged on the floor. "Pick it up and read it."

Careful not to take his eyes off the Death Eater he outstretched his hand, and it zoomed into it.

He's on the way to the Hufflepuff Dorm. Get him out.

"Now, Potter, look at yours."

Harry huffed in annoyance; he had totally forgotten that he also had a galleon hidden in his jeans.

Yaxley will help you.

"Now, shake that map and ask for friends," Yaxley commanded.

Instantly the map changed. Instead of a sea of black dots, the map showed acid green dots belonging to the Conditioned, and Death Eaters against Voldemort.

"Well, this is handy," Harry said, surprised. He stared at Yaxley's green dot. He wondered how on earth one of the Deadliest Death Eaters changed sides. "I think you can stop pointing your wand at me."

"Come, you'll hide in my chamber until it's safe to escape."

He walked into the pitch darkness of the hidden corridor. Harry hesitated, but eventually he followed, entering a small room with only one lumpy bed covered in green hangings and old furniture. Several candles flickered when Yaxley bolted the door shut.

In huge strides, Yaxley walked around and poured two goblets of water. "The Miles girl told me about you," he said before he drank. "Sit down, you're safe in here… you look as though you're about to collapse. Are you hurt?"

Apart from his back wounds stinging, he was fine. He sat on the old stained armchair as Yaxley handed him a goblet.

"I haven't poisoned it," the Death Eater rasped, refilling his.

"When did you change sides?" Harry asked, sniffing the water. He stealthily muttered an incantation making sure there was no poison in it.

"In Azkaban…"

"Why?" He finally drank the water and it felt like heaven. It just cooled the back of his throat which was raw from all the smoke and running.

"I went to prison believing the Dark Lord would release us soon… that day never came," he mumbled, staring into his goblet. "I was in prison for six years before I slowly became bitter. I wanted to die… I almost asked Umbridge for mercy, when Potter told me not to." Yaxley banged the goblet on the table. "We wrote to each other for awhile... I helped him through his ordeals while he helped me through mine. I tell you one thing, Potter, Brodes liked the witches, but when Potter came along, he tormented him almost every day."

"I see." Harry shivered. "Then what happened?"

"He told me of his plans of escape, of growing his power. He aspired to be greater than our Master, and I thought we might have a chance to finish this war. He told me if I stuck by him, even when things were tough for him, I would prosper. Then he stopped corresponding and he changed. He was almost insane by the time he escaped with the others. But I think he knew that was going to happen."

"Alright, so you thought he'd takeover, but do you realise Harry's now working against Voldemort?"

"I'm not an idiot, Potter. I knew what he meant when he said I'd prosper. He meant I'd be a free man, free of the Dark Lord, free of prison. Free to live my life in peace,"

Yaxley opened a cupboard and threw a blanket on Harry, and a spare set of clean Death Eater robes.

"Six years, Potter! I wish the fucking Dementors still ruled Azkaban, they might've broken my mind," Yaxley said angrily. "So I say, fuck the Dark Lord, and fuck war and death and pureblood propaganda. I'm over that bullshit! Twenty-eight years of war is enough to exhaust anyone—even the most hardcore of Death Eaters."

"Thanks, er, for saving my life in Azkaban," Harry said, closing his eyes at the thought of Dung dying. He shook his head and peeled off his blood-covered robes.

Yaxley jerked his head. "Rest up. You're going to need your energy to escape."

"Er, look, I appreciate you saving me again, but I have to go—"

"In three hours, the Dark Lord will call off the search and there will have a debriefing. You'll be able to go then."

"Does he suspect the Conditioned?"

"They've been told to be careful."

Yaxley was still rummaging through his cupboard, pulling out things and throwing them on the floor.

"What are you looking for?"

"Something I was told I need to give you. Potter said he stashed it in here somewhere—found it."

Yaxley straightened up, holding a black bottle and stopper. In fact, it wasn't any glass Harry had ever seen before. This bottle did not reflect the light as normal glass would.

"What is it?" Harry asked cautiously.

"He just wants you to have it," Yaxley said, skirting the question. "I was meant to complete his plan, but he said you should do it now."

"At the moment, I'd don't trust that miserable Mirror of mine—"

"Take the damn thing!" Yaxley growled, shoving it into Harry's hands. "And be careful with it."

"Why?'

"Because I'd be wary of anything encased in jet."

Harry looked at the bottle. Yaxley was right. It was made out of jet. It was a material used by wizards and Muggles in the past, because it possessed magical properties. But whatever he's Mirror had put in it, he knew it wasn't good.

"And what, am I supposed to do with this?" Harry hissed.

Yaxley smiled. "He wants you to open it before you escape."

Harry felt the strangely warm bottle in his hands. He had a very bad feeling about it.

"Do you have any ideas how you'll make it out of the castle?"

Harry looked up. "I might have a way out... I just hope it's in the same location as it was in my world."

42. A Moment of Your Time

A Moment of Your Time

"James, do you really need to keep navigating Snape's head towards the walls?' Kingsley remarked, turning on a light in a room. It was a small study, and he quickly transfigured the desk into a bed.

"I've never been able to refine my hovering technique." James flicked his wand a fraction so that Snape's head banged against the door frame. "You see, I'm utterly hopeless."

Agnes Cotter looked like she wanted to murder him. With a twirl of her wand, bed sheets zoomed in. "I think he's suffered enough for one day, don't you agree?"

He knew he was going overboard, but he was frustrated and needed an outlet for his anger and worry. James let Snape hover over the bed, and this time, let him fall gently onto the mattress.

"The Malfoys will arrive shortly, but I honestly don't know where Remus will put them. The house is full now," Kingsley said.

James imagined the Malfoys stepping foot into a werewolf's house. "I think Narcissa would rather hand herself over to Voldemort, but maybe, she might be too distracted with her husband's death to even notice."

"The Healers had to sedate her. She was in hysterics when she woke up. Listen, I've got Harry bunking in the living room with Zabini and Kirkhope. Harry's still got that curse in his system."

"My son is here?"

"Yeah, and Kirkhope's going to watch him—the Minister's order."

"I haven't had a chance to speak to him. Did Ron come with him?"

"No. Ron said he needed some time with his family… and calms himself down."

"Was Harry happy to come here?"

"No. He wanted to stay at the Order, but your son and the Malfoys, and Snape don't have stellar reputations," Kingsley said. "Many of their victims are at the Order."

"I know Snape is a dirty, conniving bastard, and the Malfoys—well—they're Malfoys. However, the double act is up and Dumbledore needs to tell everyone that they're on our side." James pocketed his wand.

"Narcissa isn't on our side, James."

"Narcissa jumps on whatever bandwagon has the prettiest gilding. Draco will win her over. Besides, what choice does she have?" James straightened up. A devious smile was playing on his lips. "Hey, why don't we move the Malfoys in with the Dursleys? That'll be fun to watch."

Kingsley snorted out loud. "That's torture, James!"

Snape groaned and said something under his breath.

"What did you say, Snivellus?" James leant over.

"Why… are you… here?" Snape groaned once more, waving his hand for him to come closer.

"I'm here to make sure you're safe. It's been such an unpleasant task."

"I'd rather be dead…"

"Then perhaps, I might stick around and give you the opportunity to die, how about it?"

Cotter snapped. "James, go downstairs. I don't need you anymore."

But Snape said something that caught his attention. "…Lily…"

"What did you say about my wife?"

"I said… Lily… would be heartbroken… if I died."

"And what's that supposed to mean? I know she has an unhealthy friendship with you—"

Even though his eyes remained closed, there was an ugly sneer on Snape's face. "Is that all it was?"

"What?"

"Put two and two together, Potter. Use your brain… or perhaps… you're in denial …that she would've been mine… hadn't it been for your interference…"

"Snape, you're fucking despicable! You would've let me and Harry die so you could keep Lily for yourself." James grabbed the wizard's shoulders, propping him up, much to Kingsley's and Cotter's dismay.

"Seemed like she wanted me for herself as well…"

"Leave him, James!" Cotter yelled.

But James ignored their protests and brushed Kingsley's hands away. "What did you do to my wife?"

Snape's head lolled on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes, letting them gently roll into the back of his head. His mouth opened and closed.

"Let him go—he's hallucinating!"

"Hallucinating my ass!" James snarled. "Answer me, Snape, what did you do to my wife."

"What… I did?" Again, there was that smile. "It was her… her revenge… and I welcomed her… Jessica..." He chuckled softly and a dribble of blood drooled down his mouth.

James sprung back, letting Snape flop back into bed. The Death Eater convulsed and Cotter rushed by his side, running a diagnostics charm over him.

Kingsley approached him. "James, listen to me. He's not right—he was goading you—"

"He wasn't!" he hissed. "Jessica? Oh my god. To even think he had the balls to drag my little girl into this!"

Cotter looked up, looking worried. "James, please calm—"

"There's truth in it," James bellowed. He paced up and down the bedroom, thinking that he had been too blind to see it. He caught Cotter's torn expression, and it was a guilty look, one that hid secrets. "Cotter… you know something, don't you?"

"For Gods sake, let it go!" Kingsley yelled.

"I'm not at liberty to say anything, Mr Potter," she said sharply. She turned around and uncorked a potions bottle with unnecessary violence.

He fell into a chair, suddenly weak at the knees. "She—she had an affair with him."

"I think you're going overboard with this, James." Kingsley frowned and squeezed James's shoulder.

(******)

She had to do this gingerly, especially with James downstairs. He didn't say a word to her when he brushed past and opened a bottle of whisky in the kitchen. He had done this in the past when he was very upset. Lily remembered he had wallowed in his misery in darkness, stinking of alcohol for weeks after Charlie's death.

Lily reached the upstairs landing, noting how unusually quiet it was. Where was everyone?

"Hi Lily," Ashley said as she emerged from one of the rooms.

Lily knelt down. "Sweetheart, I thought maybe in a little while I might take you next door to stay for a few nights. You can play with Jessica."

"But I want to see Tony," she said. "Is he going to be alright?"

"He will be." She kissed the little girl's forehead and told her to stay in the living room.

She took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door. Severus was fast asleep, so she sat by his bed side. It took a moment before she summoned her courage to touch his hand.

He opened his eyes, and blinked away his sleep and confusion.

"Where am I," he whispered, his dark eyes boring into hers.

Lily pulled her hand away and yanked her jumper sleeve over it. "Remus's." Severus scowled as he sat up, much to Lily's consternation. "Lie down! Cotter was able to heal most of your wounds quickly."

He grunted, and then felt his bandaged head. His mind was clearly elsewhere, and he kept avoiding looking at her.

Lily bit her lip. "How are you feeling?"

"I really don't want to discuss my feelings."

She shrugged and busied herself by pouring him a glass of water. "Drink. I know you don't want us to suffocate you with tender loving care—But Severus, you were put through a horrible ordeal."

"Me and thousands of others. It's my leg that's really bothering me. Damn goblin poison!" He cringed. His hair tumbled down to cover his face when he felt his injured thigh. "Where's your son? His Mirror? Emily?"

He tried to get out of bed, but Lily was not going to let him. "You need rest. Just lie down."

Severus stopped moving, his attention suddenly focused on her hand.

"I've never been a good patient. Lily, you haven't answered my questions—I heard some things while I was unconscious."

"Emily is in a bad way. She lost a lot of blood but she's lucky Harry saved her. He he killed Lucius Malfoy."

His eyes narrowed. "Is it true about the Mirror being left behind?"

Her eyes suddenly welled up with tears. She was stronger than this, but she couldn't help it. She felt so responsible. "We shouldn't have asked him to do it."

"You think?" Severus sat up again, his expression darkening. "You should've left him out of our war! I told Emily and Dumbledore—now he may never go home."

She closed her eyes, feeling as though one more look at Severus, her emotions might explode.

"I thought my boy changed. It seemed like he had, but leaving his Mirror, that is just unforgivable!"

"Lily, you're angry. Consider what he did from your son's perspective. He could no longer stay within Hogwarts, so he made a sacrifice."

"Of course I'm angry! I'm the one who put them both through hell."

"You didn't. They made their choices."

Lily wiped her eyes and moved to the window. It was mid morning and there was a light blanketing of snow covering the Dales. She saw Draco Malfoy beneath, sitting on a tree stump, looking a little lost.

"Is your son here?"

"Yes. Voldemort's going to plan another attack—Severus, lie down!" Lily gasped. She forced him down when he tried to get out of bed. "Where do you think you are going?"

"I'm going to find your son, and wring his insolent neck—!"

"Serverus!"

"Scrap that, he isn't worth it. I need to go to Hogwarts—"

"You're being irrational now," Lily said, aghast. She knew his head injury was fogging his thoughts. "Voldemort knows your true allegiance and some of the Conditioned you turned."

"I never turned them!" He shook his head. "Miles and Draco had been taking orders from your son. They persuaded the Conditioned. I happened to join in and lead them in some missions."

"But you continued saving—"

"I didn't save them, Lily. If I had, they wouldn't have been broken—Your son—do you know what had happened to him?"

"Yes," she whispered, her heart aching, "I know."

"If I had known Bellatrix had him perhaps I could've helped… Perhaps if I had known the Thirteen were involved, I could've—"

"And you would've been hunted down. But Severus, Harry had changed before that," Lily replied. "You saved Emily from all of it."

"Not enough—I forced her to do some horrible things." He took a deep breath. "I'm as good as dead."

"You did it to protect her," Lily said.

"Bring your son to me if you can catch hold of him. I suspect he'll be very busy."

She nodded grimly. "Voldemort is going to attack if he doesn't show up at Hogwarts by the end of today."

Severus crossed his arms over his bandaged chest. "We'll have to wait and see what happens. Your son isn't ready to fight him."

She looked out of the window again, a deep sense of foreboding filling her stomach. Lily saw Harry standing next to Draco, kicking up dirt with his foot. It looked like he was trying to strike up a conversation. But the boys looked to their left and she saw a young woman walk up the path with Ron.

It took several moments before Lily realised the girl was Hermione Granger. Her black bob hair was slicked back and her lips covered in deep red lipstick. She took off her dark, cat eye sunglasses as she approached Harry.

Lily held her breath as they stared at each other, and she thought Hermione was going to slap him at one stage. Instead, the girl wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. Harry returned the hug in earnest, trying to soothe her sobs.

He's really changed for the better… If Hermione Granger, a Muggle-born, had no fear around her son, then the whole Death Eater act had to be a charade. Charlie's death had to have been some sort of accident. She squeezed her eyes closed. She was grasping at the most ridiculous ideas now.

"Lily," Severus said softly. "I think I might have revealed too much about us, to James."

She returned by his side. "Said what?"

"James was goading me throughout the journey here—"

"When doesn't he?"

"I remember hearing Agnes Cotter telling him she couldn't say a word about it. I may have said something about Jessica too."

Dismayed, Lily knew the truth was bound to come out. She didn't want for it to be revealed now.

Instantly, she felt sick. "That would explain why James was in a foul mood. There's no need now to continue on with this lie."

(******)

Harry studied the map diligently. Most of the Death Eaters were in the Great Hall. There were so many dots that the area looked painted black, with a few green dots dispersed within.

"You've got the perfect opportunity to escape now." Yaxley pointed at the map.

Harry looked into the grimy old mirror. He changed his hair colour to a sandy blond, and made it shorter, while he elongated his nose. More importantly, he disguised his scar. He was ready.

"Good luck." Yaxley opened the door for him.

"Same. Thanks again for watching my back."

Harry walked out into the cold, dark corridor as the Death Eater ventured into the opposite direction, to join the Death Eaters in the Great Hall.

He needed to get to the Room of Requirement. If the Vanishing Cabinet wasn't there, he would have no way to get out of the castle.

Pocketing his map, he walked casually and confidently, making sure he looked calm. Any stray Death Eater would be looking for impostors so had to blend in perfectly.

Gripping an old wand that Yaxley had found, his hand brushed along his robe pocket where he carried the stoppered bottle. Its contents were strangely warm against his hip, and Harry wondered what was in it.

"Evening…" a Death Eater said, as they passed each other.

"Anything?" Harry asked.

"Not even the stirring of a mouse."

The Death Eater continued on, and Harry was suddenly curious about the debriefing in the Great Hall. He had several more encounters with patrolling Death Eaters, but none thought there was anything suspicious about him.

One more floor and he'd make it to the Room of Requirement. Then he heard whimpering. Harry looked down and found a witch chained to the wall, sitting next to a suit of armour. She suddenly skittered away from him.

"Nononononono!" she kept saying.

"Shhhhh, it's okay. I won't hurt you." He looked up and down the corridor the deserted corridor. "Do you want to escape?"

She shook her head, and then nodded profusely. Terrified, she shook it again. "Trick. Trick!"

'"It's not." Harry straightened up, jabbed his wand, undoing her chains. He'd need to deal with her collar.

"Follow me," he said softly. "If you run in the opposite direction, you'll be caught."

It took several moments before he heard the remnants of chains brushing against the stone floor as she followed him. "What's your name?"

"Ju—Julia."

"My name is Henry."

He turned a corridor and desperately thought about hiding something in the Room of Requirement. A door materialised out of nowhere. The witch behind him gasped.

Making sure they weren't being watched, Harry let the witch move inside first.

The room was filled with thousands, upon thousands of artefacts, stolen, hidden and heaped onto piles. Broken objects and junk littered around. Harry moved through, with Julia following.

"Lumos," he said, taking a look at the map. He quickly discovered that there were not the only green dots in the room. There were people taking refuge.

"Not so fast!" said a man with an oddly familiar Irish accent.

Julia screamed and Harry clapped a hand over her mouth. He whipped around, pointing his wand towards the gruff voice.

He wasn't a Death Eater, but Grindelwald's man. He was a brute wizard, with plenty of muscles, probably strong enough to lift a car. But he was injured and clammy, holding his weight on a broken old Comet 360 broomstick. Harry flicked his eyes behind the wizard, finding an unconscious goblin. He was short of breath and very pale.

"I'm not a Death Eater," Harry said, removing his disguise with shake of his head.

"Harry Potter. The Mirror?

"How—?

"Never you mind how I know. My name's Mannix Aherne." He pocketed his wand. "And how will we escape?"

"Give me a minute. I need to find it first." He grabbed the witch's hand, but she protested his movement. "It's alright, Julia, I'm just going to sit you next to the goblin."

"What you're looking for?" Mannix asked.

"A large black cabinet—a vanishing cabinet."

Minutes later, Mannix yelled, "over here." He was far off and his voice echoed.

Harry ran and jumped over stacks of useless books and broken furniture. Mannix was holding his wand high, letting the light reflect off the polished black cabinet, which was half buried in junk.

"Help me move the stuff out of the way." Harry shifted the rubbish around it, throwing it over his shoulder.

"So besides the name giving away what this cabinet does, where does it take you?"

"Borgin and Burkes."

"Knockturn Alley, Harry?" Mannix raised an eyebrow. "So we escape one dangerous situation only to land ourselves into another?"

Harry threw an old mothball ridden witches' robe over to his side, finally discovering the knob to the cabinet. He let his hand rest on it. "What choice do we have? At least we'll be out in the open."

Mannix looked behind him. "We have to leave the witch behind."

"No we won't!"

"Potter, as soon as she leaves the castle, they'll know the exact location where she's disappeared to. They'll come after us."

"Then we have to run and Apparate quickly."

"It's not that simple. She'll be tracked until the collar comes off."

Harry grabbed the wizard's robes. He didn't care that he was only a skinny fraction of Mannix's size. "I don't give a shit of the consequences. I need to get out of here and so does Julia. Do you understand me?"

Mannix pushed him away so forcibly that he smashed into a pile of knickknacks. He pointed a finger into Harry's face. "You're as bold as I thought. Look, Grindelwald is going to attack Knockturn today—"

"That's even better for us. It'll give them a distraction if they follow." Harry staggered back, although this time with healthy amount of distance away from Mannix, and wasted no more time opening the cabinet.

It was big enough to fit a grown man inside, although Mannix might have a little trouble fitting through. "Let's get the others."

(******)

Lily closed the bedroom door and jumped when she heard her husband speaking.

"You're hanging around Snivellus too much, Lils."

"Would it kill you to act civil once in a while? He's been through an hour of torture." Lily rounded on him. "And let me remind you, this all happened because he was protecting our daughter from Voldemort." She turned around.

"Why do you like him so much, huh?"

"Why do you still hate him?" Lily snapped, moving away from her husband. "He has saved lives, James. He's changed—he's on our side."

"He is the reason why the Longbottoms are dead—why we were in hiding—"

"He's not that stupid Death Eater anymore! Why don't you ask Emily how much she respects him? How much the Conditioned look up to him? He has helped a generation to survive this war."

He laughed. "But do you really expect me to be friendly with the man who fucked you?"

Lily inhaled deeply. Even though Severus had warned her, she still felt surprised and horrorified.

"I bet you were kissing his hurts away now."

"We weren't," she gulped, taking a step back.

"I'm glad you're not denying it." He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it up even more.

Her husband had a stiff stance. His jaw was clenched, and he had a steely look in his hazel eyes. Yet Lily saw he was tired and worn out with everything. "I am not having this discussion with you here. This is the wrong time—"

He grabbed her, stopping her from going down the stairs. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I never—James, let go—"

"You just want to run away from telling me the truth."

"We are right in the middle of a war if you haven't noticed. We'll deal with our issues after it ends."

"Well… this will only take a moment. I just need to get this off my chest. You just had to do it, didn't you? You just had to rip my heart even more." His voice broke with a tonne of hurt.

Lily turned away angrily, keeping up with the act. "Yeah, that's right, James. I felt the same way when you slept with Imogen—"

"I regret it every day!" he shouted.

"I never had an affair with Severus!"

"Stop lying!" He banged a fist against the wall in rage.

"James, I was betrayed by you. You hurt me so much."

"Everything is always my fault, isn't it?"

"No." She shook her head. "But we were being hunted by a Dark Lord and I was alone, raising three children all under the age of ten—stuck at home—while you were off gallivanting with the Order— because you didn't want to be with us—"

"That's not true, Lily—!"

"You hated your life," she yelled back. Not caring that the others could hear them. "I know you hated everything. I saw that passion you had in school and our first year together die. You were a different man when the Longbottoms died. You couldn't stand to be in a house full of young children crying for attention."

"It's not true!" he pleaded, though Lily could tell he was trying to hide his shame.

"Remember the fights we had? The nights you were off with Sirius doing God knows what? What about when Michael had been sick with croup? Where the hell were you?"

He covered his eyes. "I have always loved you."

"Not enough to be faithful to me, though," she responded fiercely. "But that passion was alive at the mention of Imogen's name… I remember that moment like it happened a second ago. I knew then that something was going on between the two of you. Do you know how worthless I felt?"

"No…" he turned away.

"Here I was raising your family, for better for worse, and you weren't there for me when I needed you most. Those were dark times for me too."

"And then you just had to… you had to destroy it even more. And I thought you had forgiven me."

"Forgiven? My forgiveness was my revenge. How does it feel? I bet you're pissed even more, because it wasn't just any man I kissed, it is the man you've hated since that very first day on the Hogwarts Express."

"YES!" Then he cowered slightly, opening and closing his mouth. "Lily, we've both done shitty things… I guess we're even now." He stalked off.

"James, wait, please. I never slept with Severus. It was just a kiss. I stopped it before... before it went further."

"Don't lie."

"I'll telling the truth. This whole affair thing is a lie produced by Harry."

"What? Jessica isn't Snape's daughter?"

"Jessica is our child, James. It was only a," passionate, "kiss… Nothing more." He didn't quite believe Lily. "Honestly, if I didn't find out about Imogen, were you ever going to tell me?"

"I—I don't know?"

"I'm being honest with you now." She bravely entwined her fingers into his, hoping he wouldn't let go. He didn't. "Harry had put a Confundus Charm on me two years ago to make me think Jessica was Severus's—that I had had an affair."

James gasped, looking alarmed. He gripped her shoulders.

She sighed and covered her face with both hands now. Lily told him everything; from the first moment that she had forced James to leave the house after he had admitted to having a relationship with Imogen, to the moment Cotter and Dumbledore took off the curse.

He was breathing heavily by the end. "Are you okay now?" She nodded. "But two years—that's a long time to be under any curse."

"I sometimes catch myself hiding Jessica's hair to test it, before I realise I don't need to." She laughed. "Sometimes I wake up, confused with what really is the truth."

He looked at her with a disgusted expression on his face. "There's a lot I want to say to Harry—!"

"Leave him alone. He did it to protect our little girl." She wiped her tears away. "James, I'm so sorry…"

He looked absolutely deflated. He pulled her closer to his chest and he gently kissed her forehead. "Like I said, we're even."

"But—"

"I'm not happy… and you're not either. We've both fucked up. Let's focus on the future now. We've got a lot to do leading up to fight Voldemort. We need to stay focused." He walked off, leaving Lily alone in the deserted hallway.

(******)

Harry knew the witch had to go last for this to work. Mannix went first. They struggled to close the cabinet door after him. There was a click, a yelp and a second later they opened the door to find its interior empty. The unconscious goblin was laid within it and they followed through the same process.

"Okay," he breathed, staring at Julia.

Harry suddenly shivered and felt his mind opening up.

"Don't forget the bottle. If you do it now, it'll give you minutes to escape Knockturn."

"Get out of my head!"

Instantly his mind closed. He shook the disturbing feeling away, feeling nothing but rage at his Mirror. He placed the warm bottle on the floor and yanked the stopper out. Nothing happened.

Julia whimpered. "Ha…Harry."

There was a blast of cold wind and a loud eerie, throaty sound that vibrated everything in the room, including the bones in his body.

They backed away and witnessed a black smoke rising out of the bottle. Harry wondered if it was a genie. But no, genies were rare and they didn't come in jet bottles. Not to mention their magic only survived in hot, arid climates. This was something else, something Dark.

The smoke rose to the vaulted ceiling and spread along the arches and into every nook and cranny it could find.

Then there was an evil cackle coming from the ceiling and in the air. It echoed throughout, sending a chill through Harry's body. But that booming, distorted cackle had a note of familiarity.

"Peeves?" he questioned, staring at the billowing smoke that was undulating and pulsing now.

"Oh Potty, wee Potty!" The voice was strong and ominous. "He succeeded where Caretaker Carpe cocked up."

"What the hell has Harry done to you?" he gasped, pulling Julia towards the cabinet.

"Belljars and cross bows, and canons don't work on poor Peevsie, but jet held me in. Potty was wee—ee—EEEEEEEE tricky!"

The spreading smoke changed direction and rebounded back, turning into a large writhing ball. Within it, a pair of orange eyes materialised. Peeves blinked.

"Why would he bottle you in?

"Dun know. Dun know. Shhhhhhhhh!"

"How long were you in it?"

"When Hogwarts closed."

The ball of black smoke suddenly pelted its way at Harry, like a bludger. Julia screamed and Peeves stopped inches from his face. He could feel wisps of freezing cold, then a moment later, strange warmth.

A slanted smile appeared. It reminded Harry of the Cheshire Cat slowly revealing itself to Alice. Appearing next was his orange bowtie. Harry looked anywhere but at Peeves, and realised that every single object that had been hidden in the Room of Requirement was floating in the air.

"Peeves, you know if you let us go, you can do anything you like in here."

"Really? Potty number two has given old Peeves permission… weeeeeeeeeeeee. "

His voice changed, deepening and echoing again, making the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. The ball of smoke whizzed around the room. Cackling about, shooting random objects towards them. They ducked behind the cabinet for protection. Peeves spiralled back at them, enveloping Harry in pitch darkness.

Harry gulped squeezing his eyes shut. He heard a whisper in his ear.

"Got your conk!"

"PEEVES!" Harry yelled, not amused, but slightly terrified of the metamorphed poltergeist. "Go annoy Voldemort—"

"I will, I will. Potty number one locked me up, hoping I would. Oh the darkness, it feeds me. It bottles poor Peevsie's feelings all up. Tut, tut, tut. I've been hungry… so very angry… I'm hangry! AHAHAHAHA! I need to blow some things up."

Harry felt the Mirror's presence again.

"Peeves is chaos incarnate and more physical than a ghost. Restricting his power for years has increased it a hundred fold. He doesn't realise what he can do, but the Baron does. Not only will Peeves be an obstacle in the battle, but he is to give the ghosts substance, otherwise they won't be able to fight."

The objects in the room slowly circled. Peeves weaved in and out of the objects, laughing and blowing raspberries, still covered in black smoke.

Harry didn't care about his Mirror's little mental annotations. "Leave me alone!" He shook his head and spoke to Julia. "I think it's best if we get out together, now."

Harry helped her into the cabinet and followed behind. It was cramped and dark. He took a deep breath closes the door, heard it click, a sudden jolt and then, the door sprung open.

"What took you so long?" Mannix asked.

"We had a small, supernatural situation—nothing to worry about."

Mannix yanked them out of the cabinet. "We have to be quick."

Harry heard screaming outside of the shop and explosive blasts. He touched the cabinet, bolting it shut so no Death Eater could come through.

Borgin and Burkes was dark, with its windows boarded up. The place looked empty. Papers, records and scrolls littered everywhere as though someone had been searching for something. And there was a smell within the shop reminiscent to the one Harry had experienced in the Mort Vivons shop in France. There was a fly near his shoulder, buzzing about. He swatted it away.

Mannix sniffed the air, carrying the goblin over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Smells like something died in here—"

There was a loud crack, a bright light, and something crashed through the boarded shop's window. "GET DOWN!" Harry yelled. Bright morning light and smoke punctured the dark, stale shop. They crouched their way to the back of the shop, hoping to find an escape route away from the looming danger.

The smell got stronger. They coughed through the pungency, finding it hard to breathe. Harry saw several more flies and the buzz grew louder as they delved further in. He knew that they were approaching something very dead.

A swollen, rotting corpse sat against the wall where he had died. Julia buried her face into Harry's chest and cried.

Mannix squinted. "Mr Borgin, maybe? I can't tell."

Harry spat, tasting bile. He had a fairly good idea why he was killed.

"It seems like Borgin was about to close the shop down in fear, but it was too late."

Harry's eyes watered when he smashed through the back door of the shop. Gasping for fresh air, they were outside in the dingy, damp alleyway covered in smoke, and fluttering burning papers. He almost tripped over two bodies: a Grindelwald supporter and an alleyway inhabitant. It looked like Grindelwald was beginning to kill bystanders not involved in either side of the war.

There were several cracks and pops at either side of the narrow street. Death Eaters knew their exact location. Julia touched her collar in fear.

"There he is!" a masked witch yelled.

Julia was shaking. "Noonononoo," she said. Harry ignited a Protection Shield around them as the first hexes were hurled their way.

"Julia, take my hand. We need to Apparate."

"Harry, she's not right! She'll Spinch—"

There was another crack. A wizard wearing a deep crimson cloak swirled in front of them, his cloak ballooning out. He whipped around, and a dazzling blue spell rippled at lightening speed down the alley. It blasted the Death Eaters off their feet.

Mannix grinned. "Grindelwald!"

Harry stood up in awe, ignoring the supporters rounding up the unconscious or dead Death Eaters. He stared at Grindelwald's immaculate appearance. His goatee was perfectly cut and his eyes hypnotising and bright. Harry could understand why Dumbledore had been friends with him. There was an electrifying allure about him. He was Intelligent, cunning and full of charm.

Grindelwald stared back, nimbly holding his wand at Harry. "Well, it's about time I meet the Mirror. How are you, Harry?'"

"Fine. Now that you've finally met me, I have to go." Harry helped Julia onto her feet.

"You'll need my permission first," Grindelwald said with a chortle.

"Excuse me?"

Grindelwald walked calmly towards him. "We have plenty to discuss about. Come back with me, Harry. You'll be looked after, I promise."

He gawked in disbelief. "I haven't got time for your bullshit, I need to go home."

"Oh, I know, I know…" Grindelwald grinned. "But, please, a moment of your time is all I ask."

"Well, a moment has just passed." Harry growled, getting ready to Apparate with the witch. "Goodbye."

There was a tight grip on his arm. "What are you—?" He looked up, Mannix was holding him firm. He raised his wand, but a second later, the wizard's fist smashed into Harry's face.

43. The Dark Lords Ascending

The Dark Lords Ascending

Harry had the most vivid sensation of falling in the darkness, until finally his body broke througg the surface of icy cold water.

Harrrrrrrrrrryyyy...

He woke, gasping, with his lungs seizing up. That voice again.

"Back off and give 'im some room," squeaked someone, as Harry gulped huge breathes in his confused state.

There was a wave of whispers all around him, then a ruffle of robes as they obeyed the command.

Harry's sight adjusted to the brightness around him and he found a group of people gawping at him. Well, at least they're not Death Eaters, he thought. Still, he was quite angry and somewhat feeling a mixture of confusion and betrayal. He tried to get up from his rather comfortable armchair, but a wave of dizziness overcame him.

He saw Mannix Aherne."Potter—"

"Get away from me," Harry snarled.

But Mannix one-headedly held him down. "Welcome back. Sorry about the punch."

"Bet you are…" Harry murmured, massaging his temple. He looked around, wondering where the hell he was. "Is this Grindelwald's hidey hole?"

"And these are his merry men." He grinned, showing him all the people around them.

"It's a bit damp, isn't it?"

There was water dripping somewhere. It looked like a cave that had been converted into a living space centuries past. Harry saw an altar that had been carved out of stone and rocky shelves nearby. Above them was a chandelier made out of rough quartz crystals which had a strange glow emanating from them. It was beautiful. However he wasn't in the mood to be amazed. His eye caught a dark circular pool in the distance with clear water that shone a vivid turquoise. His surroundings felt oddly familiar, even though he had never been in a place like this.

There were a dozen Grindelwald supporters, pressing in again, curious about him.

"Back off a bit! The boy can't breathe."

"Am I a prisoner?"

"No."

"Then let me move!" As he got out of his armchair he felt sick. He fell back with his head pounding and bile rising in his throat.

Mannix shoved a goblet into his hand and threw a sandwich into his lap. "Drink the potion and eat. You'll feel better."

"No offence, but how do I know you're not poisoning me?"

"Would you like my fist making contact with the other side of your head?"

Harry scowled and sipped the potion. He cringed at its taste, but instantly felt better. "Where's Grindelwald?"

"I'm right here, my dear boy," he happily chirped. His supporters moved out of the way and he walked through. "If you're feeling better I'd like you to come with me."

A twinge of fear froze Harry.

Grindelwald waved his hand. "Come. I don't bite."

The supporters dispersed and retreated into the shadows as Harry began to move. He looked around as he followed Grindelwald in silence. They travelled within a maze of winding tunnels, and then into a cavernous hole so large, it could fit an entire Quidditch arena.

"How long have I been here?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Grindelwald turned his head a fraction as though acknowledging that someone was speaking. "A few hours…"

Marquees had been erected within the cave, and supporters sat down, eating and chatting. Harry could smell frying onions, pan fried fish and baking bread. It made his mouth water. Behind the marquees there were hundreds of tents. They looked tiny on the outside, but within there would be between two and four supporters.

"Do you see how big my army is now?" Grindelwald proudly scanned the area.

"Your army?" Harry said slowly. It wasn't the words that bothered him, it was the way the wizard said them… like they meant more. "Dumbledore will be happy," he added, playing along.

Grindelwald smiled lightly, though the smile did not extend to his cool grey eyes.

"Does, er… does Dumbledore know I'm here?"

"Soon. However, at this moment he is more concerned about the impending attack when your Mirror does not return to his master."

"So why don't we focus on this attack, instead of me?"

"Because I like distractions… and this is a perfect distraction to stop Albus from coming here."

Harry was beginning to panic, looking for an escape.

"Come Harry, I know what you are thinking."

Scowling, Harry followed Grindelwald up stone stairs until they were in an open stone chamber, filled with stalactites and stores of food, bottles of mead and wine. Harry moved over to the naturally made balcony and looked over. He could see the entire camp beneath them, and the hum of chatter and mundane movement.

The supporters weaved between tents like little ants. Harry wondered if these wizards and witches knew what they were really getting into. That behind his charming persona, there was a scheming, cunning man, who was about to double cross Dumbledore. If they didn't know, they would when it was too late.

Grindelwald eyes locked onto his. "So…"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So… you finally have me. Now what do you want?" He turned his back on the camp and crossed his arms. "When will you let me go?"

"It depends if you cooperate or not," he replied ominously as he pensively twisted his goatee.

"Cooperate?" Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. "Seriously? You kidnapped me and you let my friends get caught—"

"That was your fault, Harry. I needed to teach you to respect me. When I want something I always get it."

Harry moved away. "Why are you interested in me?"

"I want some of your power… maybe a little more than some."

"You're insane!" Harry hissed. "My power? I don't even want it—"

"That is even better for me then." Grindelwald grinned. "Why continue with a gift you don't want to have? It'll be a win win for everyone."

Harry took another step back. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Grindelwald."

"But I do, Harry… I've studied, I've calculated, I've deliberated and I've decided that I do want this. This is not a new dream of mine—I've dreamt about this since I was a boy." He closed the distance between them. "Harry, the Elder Wand fails in comparison to being a Mage, but back in my day the Wand fulfilled half of what I needed, and it was less dangerous."

A few more steps closer and he had Harry trapped into a corner. Grindelwald was so uncomfortably close that he could see black flecks in the wizard's grey eyes.

"You'll die," Harry whispered. "And you'll kill me."

"It can be done. I did experiments on your Mirror. I have a natural flair for developing new spells. Your Mirror was reluctant at first, but he eventually shared his gift in exchange—"

"Exchange for what?"

Grindelwald inhaled sharply, grey eyes momentarily widened. "He wanted to see memories of my youth—my friendship with Albus. I sensed great bitterness and hate in the boy, which is something we both share. I think Harry enjoyed the fact that I had manipulated Albus's infatuation with me for many years…"

Rita Skeeter was right! "He loved you, and you used that to your advantage. That's sad, really sad you did that."

"Yes, I toyed with him, I must admit. I had to. I needed his support, his power."

"Did it work, getting a bit of my Mirror's power?"

"It helped improve my power for a while—I had a taste of what it felt like to be a Mage and I liked it. But the power did not last. It was dangerous and your Mirror was still in his Dark phase when I had accomplished the experiment."

"Did you continue to experiment on Harry when you put him in that cursed sleep?"

"Of course… His power was like an addiction... I needed more of it. But in his sleep, he was not as willing."

Harry shook his head. "You're supposed to be on our side. You're supposed to help end this war!"

"I am on your side." Again that endearing, dangerous smile that seemed to con people in. "I want Voldemort gone—"

"You want him gone so you can take over."

"Now, now don't get too carried away." Grindelwald moved, finally giving him some space. "I will leave England alone."

"Dumbledore should've kept you in prison."

Grindelwald laughed, puffing up his chest. "He should've left me alone in the beginning. Albus once shared my ideas. We shared everything... then he changed."

"I know, because he realised that what he was doing was evil and so were you."

"Evil?" Grindelwald sighed, as though he was disappointed in him. "Harry, creating a world, a perfect world for purebloods, and keeping the Muggle-borns out of it isn't evil. It is just a concept of structure. A beautiful organised world, where no one is hurt, just controlled and divided. I want a world where we do not have to live in secret. The Muggles would have their world controlled by us. I will not deny them of their way of life."

"But you want them beneath you—to be oppressed."

"Of course, Muggles are like children. They need boundaries—to be taught respect. Muggle-borns come into our world without a clue to how our world works and then they want to take over. They rise up and take our positions of power. They dilute our culture with Muggle behaviour. It is wrong! They need to be taught that we, purebloods, are superior."

"You're condemning people based on their birth—"

"Harry, everything has a hierarchy. The Animal kingdom has it, the Muggles have it, why can't we?"

"Because we're all equal."

"That is a silly Muggle idea. We are not."

"We are. I'm just as equal to a goblin, or a centaur or a house elf, just a much as a Muggle."

"Are you saying that you are equal to me, Harry?"

"Yes." He believed it black and white like that.

"You're not," Grindelwald whispered. "You are a Mage, Harry, and that means you are more powerful than me."

Harry shook his head. "Power is nothing in the scheme of things."

"I don't agree with you." Grindelwald sighed.

"A rich man isn't any better than a poor man, and the same goes with power."

"Not your power, Harry. Yours is pure and ancient. Did you know that for thousands of years wizards have been taught that your power is Dark and evil and should not be encouraged? Did you know that one percent of the British Wizarding population are natural born Mages?"

"Does it look like I care?"

Grindelwald ignored him. "Sad isn't it that potentially over two thousand people have no clue to the great power they have inherited?"

He invaded Harry's space once more. His face was hidden in darkness, except for a slither of light across his face, highlighting his eyes.

"You are still naive, despite what you've experienced here. You are too young to grasp an ounce of what I have been trying to achieve all my life."

"I understand that you're no different to Voldemort," Harry hissed.

He laughed. "Voldemort is an amateur. He wants nothing but death and enslavement for Muggles, and Muggle-borns wiped out. He was inspired by me, did you know? I had done more than he has done in twenty-eight years, albeit, the Muggle wars did help my advancement."

"But you want war again."

"No Harry, I want peace. I want us to cohabitate and to exist freely, but without the taint. I want the hierarchy to exist so that everyone knows they're boundaries: Mages, Wizards, Half-bloods, Muggle-borns, then beings, and on the very bottom, Muggles will exist under our power. They've done well so far, so why destroy them? We will prosper with them working under us. I just want to improve our way of life."

"And how will you improve it?"

"In my world everyone magical will have roles to play, yet protected and watched over like innocent rats."

"What roles will they be?" Harry wasn't at all shocked with what he was hearing.

"Purebloods will rule. Half-bloods will be the workers. The Muggle-borns can never rise beyond their rightful station. They will be the servants pureblood families—"

"That's sick!" Harry spat.

"Do you know what's sick, Harry?' Grindelwald asked. "It's what those Muggle boys did to Ariana Dumbledore. It broke her... This is why Albus was on my side for so long, until the idiot changed his mind. He is a coward."

"Dumbledore isn't a coward. He was brave enough to stop you."

"How can you live with the fact that your Muggle relatives treated you badly?"

"My Muggle relatives didn't do as badly as what wizards have done to me."

"That may be… however your relatives hate magic. They oppressed and abused you. The Muggles can never understand us. They're simple-minded bigots."

"You are degrading billions of people on the fact that a few of them are evil! Our world is just the same. A few bad apples aren't going to make everyone bad."

"You are so like Dumbledore. You are too forgiving, too soft—"

"Yeah, well, I like the way I am, just fine, thanks."

Grindelwald snorted. "I think we may have to agree to disagree."

Harry rubbed his aching eyes. "When are you going to let me go?"

"After you have given me your power."

"No way! You won't survive it—"

"I have tweaked the ritual and as I have experienced from your Mirror, absorbing the power of a natural born Mage is less volatile."

"You're not getting it. Not one ounce..." wormed his way past Grindelwald.

"If you want to play dirty, Harry, I can too."

Harry bolted.

"GAURDS!"

Supporters wearing golden masks suddenly appeared from the entrance. Harry closed his yes feeling a sizzle of power wash over his skin. The moment the guards touched him, they were flown into the air, screaming, landing with a thud.

He opened his eyes, giving Grindelwald a cold look.

"That was impressive, Harry."

"Keep away from me!" he yelled, backing out of the chamber.

Grindelwald smiled and gave his wand a twirl, producing a white, glittering hex.

Harry ducked. He outstretched his hand, threw all his force into a ball and blasted the wizard over the ledge.

A few witches screamed or gasped.

But then, there was an echoing chuckle that made the hair on Harry's neck stand on end. Harry rushed over to the ledge and looked down. Grindelwald was drifting to the ground, doing a few somersaults as he did so. His stunned supporters gazed up at Harry.

Grindelwald grinned as he straightened himself, looking as though he was having fun. "Get him boys!"

Harry bolted with no clue where to hide or run. He wished a bright idea would hit him, as he jumped through a hole into a smaller rocky pathway. He heard footsteps behind him.

(******)

Despite the hectic morning filled with arguments, frayed tempers and the injured needing help, Remus was quite calm. He carried a tray of tea and biscuits into the living room, where many sat huddled around a large map of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.

"Do we know for sure the attack will be at one of these schools?" Ron asked as Remus handed him a mug of tea. He looked much better now, but still peaky.

Hermione placed a blanket over his shoulders. "I don't know. I think Voldemort's bluffing, only because everyone thinks he's attacking a school now."

"Nevertheless, the schools are being evacuated as we speak," Remus said.

Magical law enforcements and Order members were stationed at every major place in Britain and Europe. The Order knew Beauxbatons would be the likely target. However, something about this attack didn't sound right and Dumbledore thought so too.

He sat down and stared into the fireplace, feeling exhausted. Yet he didn't have time to rest as he worried about the Mirror boy he had been taking care of, and now the thought of his children skewed his thoughts. Remus had Flooed his mother-in-law urging her to take the children out of Beauxbatons and had been angered by her coolness.

"How's the mother-in-law?" James asked as he entered. He flopped onto the couch.

"Ingrid took the children out of school during the Easter break without me knowing! By the way, Tristan and Beth say hello."

"Why didn't she tell you?" Hermione looked taken aback.

"She is a very secretive woman, Ingrid. She didn't want me to know because I work for the Order. But I'm glad she did. The Conditioned were watching my twins for awhile."

"That, and the fact Ingrid has never really warmed to you because of your furry condition."

Remus nodded. "James, are the boys alright now?"

"Asleep and pain free... I've put Ashley in charge of them. Oh, I passed Malfoy's room; looks like he's stuck with his crying mother, so that should get him out of our hair for a bit."

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Don't know where he is."

No one had seen him all morning. James had been highly strung and insufferable since he had confronted Lily. Remus had known that something had happened between the two, however now wasn't the time to pry.

"Shouldn't we actually be keeping a track on Harry?" she said. "I mean, he's still… dangerous and secretive. I know Marianna was supposed to, but she lost the scent a few hours ago."

"I'd say we give him some space," Remus said. "He knows Voldemort will attack in an hour. He'll be back—"

Then the back door shut and everyone hushed. Harry walked past the living room to make his way upstairs.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione called. Ron gripped her arm.

There was a moment of silence, before the boy's boots turned and he entered into the room.

He looked around. He was a bit disbelieved and covered in dirt. "Having a meeting?'

"Just catching some rest," Hermione answered. "Sit down, talk to us…"

"Talk?"

"Yes, we need to know what you're going to do. Where have you been for the last four hours, anyway?" James asked. "The sun is about to set and we haven't got a clue what's going to happen."

Harry's stance stiffened. "Where I've been is none of your concern."

James eyebrows had skyrocketed beneath his fringe. "Is that so?"

"Let us help you," Hermione said softly, cutting through James's gruffness.

"I don't need help—"

"Well, I'll just go back to Australia then," she brusquely added.

"You shouldn't have returned in the first place."

"Just tell us what's happening at least," Remus interrupted."Where's your Mirror?"

"He escaped to Knockturn Alley, but he closed his mind off until two minutes ago. Grindelwald's got him."

"SHIT!" Ron exclaimed and Hermione gasped. "This is your fault."

Remus was worried. "What are you going to do?"

"First, someone needs to tell Dumbledore," Harry mumbled.

"Why don't you tell him?" suggested James. "He needs to talk to you. Remus was sent a message—"

"Fat chance of that happening—"

"We need to get him out, now!" Ron's eyes widened. "You can't abandon him again—I won't forgive you."

"Ron, Dumbledore needs to sort this out. I need to deal with this attack."

Remus cleared his throat. "Do you know what Voldemort will do this evening when you don't show up? The European Ministries are in chaos and it doesn't help that the European Muggles have decided to air bomb parts of Britain they think Death Eaters are hiding."

"But they've managed to secure parts of London again."

"Well, it won't be long til the Death Eaters regroup," Harry said.

"The Minister has tried saying this to the new Prime Minister. Nobody knows the right way of handling this problem."

He watched the boy's shoulders hunch. He sat down on the arm of the couch, next to Hermione, looking forlorn. She squeezed his arm in reassurance.

"What's on your mind?" Hermione asked.

"The thing is if Voldemort attacks a school, it won't be a surprise because we'll be ready for him… that's not what he wants."

"We all think so too." James nodded.

Ron bolted up. "Right, I'm telling Dumbledore."

"Don't bother, Ron," James said. "Dumbledore has written that he needs to see Harry whether he likes it or not."

"I'm not going anywhere."

The red-haired Weasley's face turned dark. "You are an arse!"

"Pot calling the kettle black—"

"Stop this!" Remus yelled angrily. "Harry, just go talk with Dumbledore! For once put the hatred, the, the betrayal you feel behind, and work with him."

Remus was met with silence and the tension was palpable, but he didn't care as long as Harry did as he was told.

"Fine! I'll go," the boy snarled. "Is Snape awake?"

"He was moved to the Order an hour ago," Remus replied, eying James with a reproachful look. His friend returned a scowl.

"Why was he moved?"

"He requested it."

"Alright, I'm going. I need to see Snape first. Then I'll—"

"Oh, I see. You're willing to have a nice chat with Snivellus, but you can't talk to Dumbledore or your own parents?"

Remus just wanted to jinx James.

"What, I'm suddenly your son again? I'm a murderer, Dad." Harry hissed.

"You know, I'm starting to think maybe something else happened to Charlie that night," James said as a matter of fact.

Ron, Hermione looked at each other as though they knew more than they were letting on.

Hermione bit her lip. "Mr Potter, please don't—"

"You better start talking, Harry."

"Now is not the right time to discuss that," he answered, leaving the room.

(******)

Harry found himself back in the room he had woken with the armchair sitting in the middle. A supporter stood up from where he sat playing exploding snap alone. "What's going—?"

He didn't even answer as shouts rang through.

"You cheeky sod," Mannix laughed appearing out of a hidden passage. "Come here."

Two others appeared, this time through cracks in the cave either side of him. They approached him carefully.

Harry stopped short of the deceptively glassy pool, looking down into its bottomless depths. He was panting now. Wiping away the sweat, he noticed a small hole in the rock face on the other side of the pool. He didn't know where it led, but it led somewhere. He could feel a cool breeze coming from it.

He took a few steps back and ran. As Harry jumped into the air, a supporter smashed into his side, grabbling at his robes.

They both fell into the pool with a splash. It was freezing, just like the pool the Horcrux locket had been placed in. His lungs felt like they had shrivelled up. Harry looked up, and in horror, he could not see the surface of the water. He tried pulling himself upwards, like it was the right way, but his robes weighed him down, and he didn't seem to move much.

Even in the dim, strange blue hue of the water, Harry saw the frightened expression of the supporter drowning next to him. He pulled Harry down in his quest to rise himself and break the non existent water surface.

Nothing was working. They were slowly sinking into blackness… to death.

Down they went, the cold piercing Harry's bones and the oxygen in his lungs wearing thin. What made things worse were the eerie, translucent white hands stretching out around them. Ghostly wisps of spirits had emerged from the darkness.

Haaaaaaaaarrrrrrryyyyyyyyy…

That voice again!

Welcome.

He jolted when suddenly a white figure with no eyes shot through Harry. He was a child running across the street to fetch a ball. The little boy stopped when the figure of a Death Eater Apparated in front of him. Harry was shocked to see his Mirror. He put a finger to his lips. The child turned around to see his house on fire. The boy ran, screaming for his mother, but a green curse slammed into him from the side, a curse from a laughing, thin grey-haired witch.

Harry screamed as the spirit released his hold over him. Another spirit thing approached, its wavy white hair looking like seaweed. It too went through him. Harry was the woman, screaming as Bob Cadwallader pinned her to the ground, ripping her clothes.

GET OUT! Harry cried. The spirit obeyed and Harry felt relief, though not for long.

All around them, spirits waited their turn to make him see, to see how his Mirror and the Death Eaters had made them suffer.

"I'm not Him!" Harry yelled, bubbles escaping his mouth.

Grindelwald's supporter was yelling. Bubbles were escaping everywhere. However, the bubbles were sinking. Odd, Harry thought.

Then the realisation hit him. Harry pulled the supporter and pointed downwards at the bubbles. But the supporter didn't understand, nor did he think that sinking was the right thing to do. He pushed him away and continued struggling up.

Giving up with the supporter, Harry stood still, and let his weight sink him.

A small hand touched Harry's lightening bolt scar.

"NOT NEVILLE!" Alice Longbottom screamed, running into the nursery. She cursed Voldemort, they duelled, before he finally had the upper hand, and killed her with a merciless laugh.

Neville looked up from his crib, crying. Harry was Neville, staring into Voldemort's cold, red eyes, before he too was snuffed out.

Harrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…

That voice was scaring him. Who was it?

Harryyyyyyy Potteeerrrrr… Magos.

Harry didn't have time to pinpoint the voice's exact location, when another spirit, hell bent on tormenting him, took his turn.

It was the tongueless face of Dung. Harry saw him in front of him as solid as a real person. "A stitch in time saves nine, eh? You're nothing. You're a coward."

"Dung, I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to die—"

"YOU'RE A STINKIN' COWARD!" The spirit's face changed into something indescribably dark and demonic. Harry screamed as the spirit felt like it was ripping his tongue away.

But he felt a jolt as another figure fought to make his presence known. He shoved Dung out and Harry tried kicking the new spirit out too, but the figure's hand caressed his face lovingly, before plunging through Harry's body.

"You're going to be okay," it said.

Harry gasped. It was Sirius. Mirror Sirius. He didn't know what to say, his mind went numb.

"Sink and you'll be fine. Don't let us spirit hags get to you." He winked.

"Sirius!" Harry gasped with a pang of longing.

"Thank you for helping my godson, tell him I'm with him always... and with you." Sirius let go and Harry was sorry to see him vanish.

The darkness grew thicker, and his body was screaming for oxygen. Just a little longer, he thought. He repressed the urge to breathe the water in.

Harrrrryyyyyyyyyyyy...

Who are you?

Another ghostly form rose from the darkness. Harry closed his eyes. There was something sinister about this one and it invoked fear into him. It was black… blacker than the water around it. Its long fingers touched his forehead.

No! Get away from me!

Do you know the black heart, Harry? It smells of death… it feels of death, it tastes of death... your death, your death, his death and life… life… life… Which do you choose, Master of Death?

"I'm not the Master of Death."

Oh but you are... not now, not here, but you will be. You will be our champion... if only you survive.

Harry opened his eyes. The words made his blood curdle, piercing every cell in his body.

Beneath his feet, he saw light filtering through, and the surface of the water quickly appeared. He was going to make it.

He fell through and felt the air around him. He cushioned his fall, landing softly. Harry inhaled deeply, and felt he needed so much more air in his lungs. Looking up, Harry saw the glassy pool on the cave ceiling, twinkling back at him.

He propped himself up, weakened by the watery adventure, soaking wet and panting, his back searing in pain now. What the hell was that? He dried himself quickly and calmed down.

There was sudden slow clapping behind. Harry turned around, still shivering. Grindelwald and several of his men entered. "Your Mirror hated that pool. We used it several times on him. He was very rebellious in the beginning."

"So you tortured him!" said Harry, staggering upright, thinking about that voice, and having heard it in Azkaban through his Mirror.

"I needed his cooperation."

"I think your supporter is dead now."

"Yes, poor fellow, not as smart as you. He's body will never be found."

"What is that pool anyway?"

The wizard looked up. "It is one of several naturally occurring glitches in our world. It is a failed gateway between life and death that never properly formed—or closed. It is sort of like The Veil in the Department of Mysteries, but in this pool you can be retrieved."

"Oh…"

"The souls are attracted to you by a connection in life or by your deeds..."

But how am I connected to that weird spirit? Harry bolted upright, ready to run again. Harry positioned himself to curse them.

"There is nowhere to go and you cannot use your power here. Will you surrender now? We haven't got all day."

Sighing, Harry lowered his hands and hated himself for it. "You've got me."

"Excellent. I'll try to spare some of your power." Grindelwald beamed.

"Thank you for caring?"

Grindelwald laughed. "In the beginning, I had to watch your Mirror. I thought I had to kill him. So I was surprised that my job was to help him. He was always the one to battle Voldemort. Then of course, you showed up and made it much more difficult for Albus. But to me you are a godsend. Did you know there is second prophecy about your Mirror? It includes a mysterious person. I believe this person is me."

"You knew about it?"

"Oh yes." He smiled. "One of my supporters—my very first supporter told me about the second prophecy. Albus has told you by now what it means. Can you tell me?"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but that prophecy was between me and my Mirror—it's about us."

"That's—that's disappointing, I must say."

"Who told you about the prophecy?"

"My spy,Unspeakable Saul Croaker."

(******)

The last thing, Severus wanted was for a sour-faced Harry Potter to wake him. "Don't you have anyone else to bother?" he asked, sitting up. He glimpsed out of the window and saw the sun was close to the horizon.

"Nope…"

Severus stared at the boy. He didn't have the energy, or the time to torment him anymore. "I want you to answer a question. I don't care about your little schemes and your will to antagonise everyone, but I want to know why you used your mother like that. You could've damaged her mind!"

"I didn't—"

"You should've punished me alone." Not that he really deserved it.

"My parents aren't perfect. I hate that they betrayed each other and you should've kept your hands off my mother, but…" Potter leaned back in his rickety chair. "You know why I did it. You knew nothing about a 'lovechild' and in the event my family was caught, well Jessica would be spared conditioning on the grounds that she was your child. Voldemort threatened that the Thirteen would condition her."

"Like you?" Severus asked. The boy twitched lightly. "You assumed no one would discover the deception, like I had."

"Well my plan wasn't perfect, but do you think our master would give a shit about checking who her parents really are when I had enchanted the Hogwarts Scroll, a seemingly powerful object, that not even Dumbledore would be able to manipulate?"

"Your mother—"

"My mother is powerful. She can handle anything that's thrown at her. But my sister is only ten. I'd do anything to protect her. I would kill for her," he hissed. His hands were clenched now. "You felt the same way about my mum."

The boy had a point. Potter bowed his head, looked troubled and older than his eighteen years.

"What's wrong, Potter? Let's put our animosity aside this one time. Let me help you."

"I'm to face Voldemort."

"Tell me something I don't know—"

"The problem is," he interrupted, "I have to die, in order for him to die too."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "I suppose you're not a glass half full sort of person."

"It's a fact. I need a potion, or something that can help me survive… like… like the…"

"The Stopper of Death? Potter, that potion takes three months to brew. Besides, you are dealing with the darkest of Dark arts, and whatever our master has done to you, it won't be an easy cure."

Potter tapped his chin, deep in thought.

"Where have you been for the last few hours?"

The boy pulled a bottle out of his pocket, containing a blue substance. "Just been researching the Giant's Cut... interesting place."

"Feeling the urge to escape this universe?"

"It was tempting, but no. I knew the cave has anti-aging properties. I thought maybe there might be something I could use to help me. Rowena's cave has an underground lake."

"Does it have healing properties?" Severus regarded him carefully as the boy shook his head.

"But in theory it could suspend death."

"It won't work. You need time to research—time we don't have. Just tell me what's wrong."

"You're right," he sighed. "I wasted my time..."

"What has the Dark Lord done to you—?"

"Do you think, er, maybe there's another way to stop death?"

"Unless you are the Master of Death, I doubt it," Severus said slowly. "I sense you're scared—"

"—I'm not—!"

"It is perfectly natural."

"Fuck off, Snape," he hissed. Potter crossed his arms in defiance.

"I need to know what you're up to, to help you. How sure are you that you have to die?"

The boy pulled back with a scowl on his face. "I'm a… I'm Voldemort's Horcrux."

Well, should I be surprised? He smirked. "I always thought you wanted to die—"

He twitched again. "I did, but now, I've got more to live for. So yeah, I need help especially now we're dealing more than just death. We're dealing with the destruction of innocent souls."

"What do you mean?"

"Voldemort has the Obsidian Stitch."

"That fabled dagger? Are you sure—?"

"I see," said another voice.

They turned to the doorway. James Potter had been listening in.

Severus wondered if the boy had intentionally forgotten to not place a Silencing Spell on Bill Weasley's old bedroom before barging in.

"Couldn't help yourself could you?" he asked his father.

"We won't let you die," the father growled.

"Get out of my room, Potter. This is a private discussion." Severus didn't like the fact he was right in the middle of a brooding argument.

"Don't even talk, Snape!"

Severus didn't want to tempt fate.

The boy laughed. "Months ago you were happy to let me rot to death in Azkaban."

"I still want to throttle you, don't get me wrong," he spat.

"Potter—"

"Keep out of this, Snape, I'm warning you."

Severus curled his lip, as he slowly made his way out of bed, his leg paining him.

There was a knock at the door, and Dumbledore entered calmly, looking stern. He was not alone, but accompanied by Shacklebolt, Kirkhope, and McGonagall. There was something about the hard lines around his eyes and mouth that told Severus that something serious was going on, besides the impending attack at sundown.

"Harry, I'm surprised you're here. Molly said you arrived not long ago, why?"

The boy sighed loudly and grew frustrated.

"And this isn't the greatest time to be having an argument," he added. "Harry, you need to leave straight away."

"Why, you wanted me here? You wanted to see me."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, and Severus pulled his wand from beneath his pillow.

"Voldemort will attack at sunset and I need you out of this Order. I did not ask you to come here."

James Potter backed away. "But you sent Remus a message. An Order sanctioned message ordering Harry here—"

Dumbledore shook his head, without looking away from the boy. "I never did. Did you think Xanthe Paton was the only spy, James?"

"Well, no… You catch at least one a year."

"There is another now, I think, with the influx of the Hogwarts injured, and others working for Grindelwald. Someone has tricked us." He outstretched his hand towards the boy, the light of the setting sun making the room glow red. "Quickly—come with me now."

The boy smiled, and there was something oddly dangerous about it. "And if I don't go willingly?"

"We'll make you," said Shacklebolt. But Severus noticed the Auror's hesitancy.

The boy moved towards Dumbledore and stumbled. He turned around and stared at his father.

"Do you want to know what happened to Charlie?"

"Don't say it, it is Tabooed!" Dumbledore implored, raising his wand. "This isn't you—this is the Horcrux. Fight it." Everyone aimed their wands at the boy.

"I can't—it's not—Horcrux—it's Voldemort—" He fell to his knees. "NOOOO! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

Severus backed away, holding onto the bed stand. He saw a dangerous glint in Potter's eyes, which reminded him of his master.

Potter struggled to keep himself from saying the words. "I—"

"Stun him!" Dumbledore roared.

"I didn't—"

"STUPEFY!"

Potter crumbled to the floor.

"DON"T CURSE HIM!" James yelled, falling by his son's side.

But the boy's eyes opened, despite having four stunners hit him squarely in the chest. He inhaled sharply, staring into his father's eyes. "I—"

Dumbledore slashed his wand trying to stop the boy with another curse.

"Didn't kill—"

"Reducto," the old headmaster tried. The curse was so powerful it blew out the windows and the boy was smashed against the wall.

But Potter did not surrender. "Him—"

There was a moment of pain in Dumbledore's eyes, Severus saw. It was guilt and it was desperation. "CRUCIO!" he yelled.

The boy screamed. There were tears on his cheeks, and even through the pain he managed to form words. "JESSICA—"

"NOOO, HARRY!" Dumbledore bellowed in anguish.

"KILLED HIM!" He inhaled sharply, collapsing into his father's arms.

There was a moment of calm, like they were in the eye of a storm. They gripped their wands. Dumbledore stumbled back, hitting the bed. He looked as though he'd been punched. He was visibly shaking. "Evacuate, NOW!"

A green skull erupted into the orange and red sky and the screams from the tents below started.

(******)

The golden masked guards threw Harry into a cell. He skidded along the floor, coming to a halt near a stone carved bed. He got up and banged on the bars. "Let me out!"

The guards disappeared and he was alone in the darkness.

He felt a mixture of anger and fear and perhaps defeat, when suddenly he felt his mind opening up. He thought it was his Mirror, but his heart almost stopped.

"Harry… welcome to my world. I hope to meet you soon again…"

"How did you—?" Harry breathed, clutching his head from the invasion, intense pain blossoming.

"I used the Obsidian Stitch for the first time. I feel a little more at one with my souls. I have been so blinded, so disconnected for so long, that I can see a little bit clearer now, and it will only get better."

No, Harry thought in dread.

"I will use the other Horcruxes soon. And I will have you."

"GET OUT!" Harry screamed using every ounce of feeling, of love and determination to expel Voldemort. "You have no control over me!"

It worked. The Dark Lord yelled in pain and vanished.

44. Chickens a Flurry

Chickens a Flurry

"GET THE CHILDREN OUT!" a Healer shrieked, rushing into the hospital marquee. "PROTECT—!" But his words were cut short when a green curse hit his back. He fell, dead, with a stunned look on his face.

Lily didn't have time to react in fear as everyone panicked. Some Healers had grabbed the most ambulant patients and Apparated. She, however, wanted to fight.

"Create Portkeys," Octavia yelled.

"That takes time!"

"JUST DO IT!"

Around her, people were running, trying to hide, or arming themselves. She stealthily looked out of a ripped hole in the fabric of the marquee and gasped, seeing the large glittering skull of the Morsmorde sign obscured by the mist.

All she could think about, besides those she cared about, was the fact that they were not prepared enough for this.

(*****)

They could hear were the shouts of panic, the screams, and the laughter of invading Death Eaters.

"James, get Harry out—tell Draco to come at once," Dumbledore ordered.

"Wait, Albus, you need to tell the members to just get out—it's over."

"IT IS NOT!" he roared. "He will not beat us! I will not have them run us out like a pack of cowardly dogs, Severus."

He saw the rage in the old wizard's eyes before Disapparating to join the fight. They left Severus alone with Potter and his son. Either way, fighting against the enemy and dealing with the Potters was not a situation he wanted to be part of.

"Snape, I need your help," James Potter growled. "I think he's being possessed again."

Green explosions rocked the Weasleys yard, and hexes shattered windows. They coughed as the smoke from fires, the burning smell of wood and flesh filled the room.

"What do you want me to do?" he said, covering his face with his pyjama sleeve.

"ANYTHING!"

Cringing in pain, Severus knelt down. The boy clenched his teeth, his veins strained on his neck and he was convulsing. His hands were in such tight fists that his nails had drawn blood.

"Harry," his father said hesitantly, hands trembling over his son's cheeks, "you need to fight him."

He felt as though a bundle of fear was constricting his chest. Severus knew if the Dark Lord could possess the boy easily, then they were in more danger than they had possibly ever imagined.

"Potter—" He pulled back when the boy suddenly roared in laughter.

But through the hazy smoke lingering around them, the boy had opened his eyes wide, staring at nothing.

"HARRY!" James yelled, slapping him hard. But there was no response, except for laughter.

A thunderous pounding on the ground shook the whole ramshackle house, deviating Severus's attention briefly away. When he quickly looked out of the window, he was horrified to see two giants—taller than a five story house, smashing through the camp, trampling on those who weren't fast enough to escape.

He swore, shoved James out of the way and grasped the boy's head as his eyes rolled back into his head. "Potter, you're stronger than you think—you need to push him out—"

"You're all going to die." Potter's eyes snapped back, focusing on him. "Severus, I will kill you myself!"

"No," he hissed, "you will not!"

The boy crunched his eyes closed and screamed.

Severus shook him hard. "POTTER, LISTEN ME—Fight him like your Mirror does."

"NOOOOO!"

He knew it wasn't the boy screaming, but Voldemort. Then Potter slumped back into his father's arms, limp, breathing raggedly, and his tongue bleeding from where he'd bit it.

"Harry—?"

The smoke was coming in thicker. Curses and hexes were hitting the house, blasting sections to pieces. Severus could hear people trying to break through the front and back doors.

Potter pushed his father away, rolled onto his side and coughed. He sucked in a shaky breath, before blinking at them.

"Are you back?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, tossed him out." A shaking hand clutched at his chest in pain. Severus guessed this was where the Horcrux was housed. "He's stronger now. He's used the Stitch."

"Let's get out of here," James said, trying to pull him up.

"I don't need help." He staggered upright on his own.

"How did you get him out?" Severus asked.

"I thought…thought about Jessica. It's so stupid, that a simple thing like love is like poison to our master."

"Well, it's been so long since you've felt love—don't laugh—you need to invoke whatever your Mirror does to protect himself," Severus said. "Just as he's absorbed your skills, I know you've absorbed his."

The boy scanned the camp outside and ducked when two spells pelted their way and through the window, hitting a Chudley Cannons poster, incinerating it.

"Of course I did." With a swipe of his hand, the fire was put out.

"Perhaps, this is the only way you will survive."

The boy looked up. "Perhaps—Oh no!"

Through the window they saw the giants heading straight towards them. Panic filled Severus.

There was a splintering of wood downstairs and a yell of victory. "Death Eaters are flooding into the house," James roared. "We need to go—"

Then a girl screamed and a woman shouted.

"GINNY!" Potter scrambled past them and out of the room.

"Fuck, Harry, don't—"

James had no time to finish his sentence, because something big exploded into the side of the house and the floor underneath them collapsed. Severus felt himself falling, missing the giant's fist by an inch.

(*****)

Bill entered the hospital tent, bleeding. "The Aurors said to get the kids in the centre of the tent."

Before Lily or Octavia could reply, he had vanished into the haze of battle.

She turned around and found Emily and the Patil twins helping move the injured, while several Healers busied themselves with creating Portkeys. The patients that could move were bundled into a circle. Those who couldn't where hovered.

Screams everywhere pierced Lily's ears as she heard a most frightening crack of stone and wood. She rushed over to the marquee opening, not caring that she was exposing herself, and saw giants destroying the Burrow with their huge fists.

"Oh God!"

She was about to run out to help, when someone gripped her arm. She looked up, seeing the determined face, and blazing red hair of Auror Kirkhope.

"Trying to get killed?" The Death Eater spy pushed her back into the tent. Blaise Zabini followed her in. Kirkhope swung around, her braid whipping over her shoulder. With a flick of her wand, the tent opening was closed.

"Marianna," Blaise panted. "You need to know that half the Death Eaters fighting are—"

But there was a sudden rip in the fabric on the other side and several children cried out for help. Aurors poured through.

"It is alright. Gather ze children around, we vill protect them until you escape," Commander Jehanne Larue ordered. She began singing an incantation.

They did as they were told. Lily's immediate worry was for the patients, but her heart ached to go to the Burrow.

Thirty Aurors closed the circle in, when a Healer held up the first ready Portkey. A bunch of the injured quickly touched the shoe Portkey and vanished.

The commander was halfway through her incantation when there was another rip in the tent. This time, there were not Aurors coming to help them.

"Well…" started a breathless Alecto Carrow, "looks like I found our old prisoners," she yelled over her shoulder, as the tent flapped around her.

Lily could make out the chaos behind her. Tents were on fire, and now a few licks of flames were burning the top of the hospital.

One of the Aurors flung the first spell. Alecto jumped out of the way, crashing into a bed. She rolled over and aimed her wand at Lily.

"AVADA—"

But Emily jumped through, pushed Lily away and hit the Death Eater first with the Killing Curse.

"FIGHT!" the commander bellowed.

Death Eaters yelled their way through the tent in every direction now. They fired curses, killing two Aurors and injuring another, before they were subdued.

Reducto! Lily pounced back, blasting two Death Eaters out of the tent. Commander Larue slashed her wand, knocking one off his feet. He struck his head on the edge of a desk and was instantly dead.

Emily flicked her wand, disabling another. The Patil twins fired their spells. Zabini dodged a hex and was able to disarm Rowle, wrapping him in chains.

"Nice work!" Tonks called, then cursing a Death Eater who was pelting at them.

Zabini yelled in euphoria as they subdued the last Death Eaters.

"Now arm yourselves, they vill come again," Jehanne called. She recited the incantation again, this time finishing it, bathing the exterior of the tent with a fortress like defence charm, dispelling enemies trying to enter.

"How are those Portkeys coming?" Lily asked as she saw the number of patients and Healers dwindling.

"Three are almost complete!" Healer Albert Sott answered.

"Ours are ready." A German Auror held one up, so did a French one. The remaining children scrambled to touch the objects, and instantly the lucky few vanished.

But someone did penetrate Commander Larue defences: Harry. Lily bit her tongue and she heard the commander swearing in French.

"Don't harm him," Marianna cried out. "Harry—?"

He ran to his mother. "No time to explain." He looked around, his face sweaty, and he held his bloodied arm tight against his chest. Lily gasped, seeing his collarbone sticking out.

"We need to fix your injury."

"No time!"

There was shock and fear in his eyes.

"You were in the Burrow?"

He snapped his focus on her, but didn't answer.

"Harry, tell me, is everyone—?"

A blast rocked the side of the hospital and the fortress defences were vanquished. Screams and laughter, and the whoosh of a strong wind knocked everyone to the ground.

Lily wheezed, feeling blood trickling down her face as she saw smoke, debris, and bits of burning material flying around. The cold wind brushed her face and the smoke stung her eyes and she bolted upright. The roof had been blown off and they were in the open now. A fire… fire was engulfing everything around them.

Their circle had been ripped a part and the injured ran in every direction into the oncoming stream of Death Eaters.

"NO!" her son screamed, with his face blazing in sweat, blood and rage.

He smashed a fist onto the ground. From the point of contact with his hand, the earth rippled out in two metre high mounds. The force threw beds over and people off their feet. But the Death Eaters weren't so lucky. They looked down while trying to escape the dirt, but as soon as the earth touched their feet, it opened up and a huge hand made of soil pulled them in, screaming, before closing over, burying them.

Harry stumbled upright and helped as many people up as he could manage. "Just stay here," he yelled. Around the skeletal remains of the marquee, Lily saw a silver shield rise up around them. "You'll be protected."

"Harry!" Parvati ran to him.

Lily cringed in pain, but grabbed his hand. "What's happening?"

"Dad and Snape were trapped in the Burrow—they're okay. I think Molly and Percy are dead and I can't find the rest anywhere. I can't find Ginny. I think they have her." He pulled Parvati into his arms, and hastily hugged her. "Stay safe—Blaise come on!" He rushed off with Zabini, through the smoke, shouting curses at Death Eaters in their way.

Lily could hazily make out Aurors and Order members clashing with the Death Eaters. They all scrambled and jumped over lain bodies from both sides. Gone were the screams, gone was the panic. Now it was replaced with battle cries, and the grunts of angry men.

(*****)

The Phoenix Patronus flew about, following them as Harry was dragged through the naturally winding corridors of the strange cave, Grindelwald and his army called home. The Patronus fluttered in front of the old wizard.

"Gellert," the phoenix spoke, in Dumbledore's voice. "We need help…please."

Harry closed his eyes, hoping Grindelwald would answer the call.

"No."

Harry opened his eyes and stared in shock. "He needs you."

"This… the destruction of the Order will work to my advantage."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this." Harry forgot he was held tightly by two of Grindelwald's men, because he wanted to punch him. "Why?"

The wizard paced up and down as shouts began to ring through.

"Gellert—! The Order!" A wizard fumbled into the room with a bloody gash on his head.

"Ah, Saul, I know. I hope you're okay dear chap, but I'm a little busy with other things."

The Unspeakable looked a little dazed. "You're not going to help?"

"If the Order is destroyed, more people will flock to me. There will only be me and Voldemort." He fiddled with his goatee. "And when Harry Potter defeats him by my side, well, I will be the hero of the Wizarding world."

Croaker opened and closed his mouth. Harry could see the first signs of doubt blossoming in the Unspeakable's mind.

"Now, get the boy to the altar—I need to concentrate on the ritual."

But around them, wizards were whispering.

"You know, Gellert, if I was you I'd let them fight. Otherwise they'll turn against you. They'll know what you're really about."

"If you wish to help Dumbledore, go. But if the Order loses, do not come back to me."

No one moved. The wizard smiled and winked.

"You are going to rot in hell for this," Harry hissed.

(*****)

Dumbledore brought the wand down as though holding a whip, giving Severus and James time to hide. A large blue ribbon of light swirled around. He brought it low and knocked the giants off their feet. The ground shook fiercely. Charlie and several others quickly bound up the giants with large chains.

He looked around, struggling to breath through the smoke, through hazy spells and the heat from duels. As he had guessed, Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he had had his army do his dirty work.

"Kingsley, behind you!" Dumbledore yelled. The black Auror jumped around, stunning the encroaching Death Eater.

Rookwood rushed forward with MacNair through the smoke. A curse hit Kingsley and he gasped in pain.

Expulso, Dumbledore fired. However Rookwood swerved in time.

"Well, still fighting," Augustus Rookwood said.

"I never give up," Dumbledore replied.

"Neither do we."

"That's why our war has lasted twenty-eight years."

"Of course, Dumbledore," MacNair grunted. "We've been waiting for you to die."

"But he isn't the only leader that has to die," Zabini said as he helped Kingsley.

"And who might that be, traitor?" MacNair snarled.

Zabini smirked. "I think you know… and he'll enjoy striking you off."

Dumbledore threw a hex, but the Death Eaters repelled it, throwing back a curse. Zabini hit Rookwood with a stunner as he jumped over the rubble. Dumbledore ignited a protection shield in the nick of time, as an all too familiar slashing curse hit it.

Kingsley rolled behind a broken façade of the Burrow. "DUMBLEDORE!" he yelled. "Get behind here."

He turned to run before several more Death Eaters had a chance to curse him.

A few Aurors slashed their wands, disarming the group of Death Eaters.

But someone smashed into Dumbledore's side, bringing him down hard. Death Eaters hiding around the camp suddenly laughed.

"I GOT HIM! I GOT HIM!" An emaciated man with long, dingy hair screeched on top of Dumbledore. By the marks around his neck, he had been a prisoner at Hogwarts.

"You fucking bastard!" Zabini roared, pulling the wizard off as Kingsley, James and Severus fought back against the Death Eaters closing in.

Zabini shook the wizard. "Did you lead them here, Kritikos?"

The wizard laughed and laughed. "Little note, little birdie. Only a small one to bring Potter here. The Dark Lord promised me glory."

Blaise Zabini smashed his boot into his face as curses whooshed and sizzled past them.

To Dumbledore's right, he saw a Hit Wizard dead and a Death Eater shout victory.

"Leave him alone, Blaise—his mind is damaged."

He slumped onto the side of the collapsed house, with his hip paining him. Only four walls of the kitchen stood, and the injured had been dragged to the safety within it. He felt so tired now, but he had to continue fighting.

"Where's Grindelwald?" Kingsley questioned as he scanned the area. "Albus...?"

Dumbledore was briefly paralysed witnessing Arthur holding onto Molly's limp body. "I'm afraid, we are on our own."

Kingsley sat back, stunned. "But you said—"

"He has Harry and he will not be coming…" He inhaled deeply. Around him, he heard a man crying, and the injured groaning in pain.

"He's got the boy?" The Auror shook his head, wiping blood away from his brow. "It was all for nothing then."

"Of course not Kingsley, we have our Harry back."

(*****)

James was disgusted that Grindelwald hadn't come. He ran his way through the rubble into the little kitchen. He sat by Arthur Weasley who was cradling his dead wife in his arm, one hand holding onto Percy's arm. George Weasley was semi-conscience, and his face half burnt.

"James, this is a moment of calm. You need to take the injured—including Severus—to Remus's."

"I can take myself," Snape replied, helping George up.

James nodded and gripped Arthur's shaking shoulder.

"She died protecting him," Arthur cried, softly kissing her forehead. Her eyes were wide open, so James closed them. "I—I can't find my daughter."

"We need to go," Snape hissed. A green curse sizzled past their heads. They looked up as they heard Bellatrix's shrieking in amusement.

"Severus, leaving so soon?" she asked. A part of the existing kitchen wall collapsed, exposing them.

"I wondered where you were."

James's wanted to kill that bitch.

"Potter," Snape said, pulling his wand arm down. "Not now."

"Why don't you stay and fight me?" Her dark hair masked her face as flaming debris wafted past her.

He wanted to kill her for everything she had put his son through. "Snape, let's do this together— we can beat her."

"We could, but she's not ours to duel with."

"What?"

Snape curled his lip. "I would love the opportunity, but I think your Conditioned has marked you for the fight."

Her smile faltered slightly. "He is no match for me—speak of the devil, here he is."

Harry moved stealthily to his father's side, eying Dumbledore briefly. "Get out."

"I'm staying to help you cut her down for good." James seethed.

The chaos around them continued. People were dying, duels were happening with ferocity. However, there were signs that the battle had ceased in parts of the camp. James saw people trying to put the flames out. Now, everything seemed to have slowed down into an unearthly silence as Harry and Bellatrix stared at each other.

She licked her lips and began circling him. She raised her arm, exposing her Dark Mark proudly, suddenly Death Eaters Apparated around them, forming a semi circle two line deep.

"Harry—!"

"Potter, leave him. This isn't our fight. Let's go!"

(*****)

There was desperation in that note which had appeared with a crack.

Coop on fire. Need help.

Michael saw it float to the ground before Remus snatched it up. They started helping people as they Apparated on to the property. Children cried everywhere.

"Voldemort's attacked the Order, hasn't he?"

"No—they can't!" Ron was in shock. Hermione held onto his shoulders, her eyes wide. "I'VE GOT TO GO!"

Michael rushed over to the window afraid that Death Eaters would follow. It was fairly calm outside with the Healers laying the wounded on the ground. But that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the fact the Christopher was running down the hill with a look of panic on his face. "Something's wrong."

"Yeah—my family's in danger," snapped Ron.

"None of you can fight," Remus said softly.

"No, I mean, something's happened at our house." Michael opened the front door and Christopher stumbled over the steps, winded, clutching his knees.

"Jess—she's gone! I don't know where she is. She… she just left." Christopher sobbed into his hands. "Where would she go?"

There was a loud crack near the vegetable patch and three men appeared. They all collapsed. Snape was supporting Arthur and his injured son, George.

Fred appeared a moment later, worried. "Shit! Georgie boy, I just found out." He knelt by his unconscious brother's side.

"Molly…my poor Molly…" Arthur kept whispering.

"What the hell happened?" Michael gasped.

Snape looked at them. "Where's Draco—?"

"DAD!" Ron pushed everyone out of the way to hug his father. "Where's Mum and everyone?"

Snape hesitated. "They're fine, don't worry. Lupin, that note that was sent you was fake. A Hogwarts prisoner sent it. The Dark Lord possessed Potter—breaking a Taboo placed about Charlie's murder."

Michael bolted into the house, ignoring Remus's shouts to come back. He rushed up to Malfoy's room, with his legs still twitchy from the Cruciatus Curse. He banged his way through the room.

"What do you want?" the blond-haired Death Eater drawled, his wand sticking out of his robe sleeve.

Michael stepped back. There was something quite imposing about the boy's demeanour, his immaculately crisp, dark robes and silvery hair. Malfoy towered over him and stared down with nothing but a scowl on his pointed face. He looked very much like his father. "I said. What do you want, Potter?"

"You're needed at the Order," he replied, clenching his jaw.

Malfoy turned his head towards his sleeping mother. "Who said that?"

"Snape—the Order is under attack by your lot."

"I thought a school…" Draco Malfoy touched his Dark Mark and grunted something under his breath. He grabbed his cloak. "What did Harry do?"

"Don't know, but I'm coming with you."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and stared, as he fitted dragon hide gloves onto his hands. The silence seemed like an eternity

"Please?"

Finally Malfoy spoke as he moved past him "No."

"Oi, why not?" Michael snarled, grabbing a fistful of the boy's cloak.

Malfoy stopped, glaring at Michael's fist with a look of distain on his face, as though his cloak at been dirtied. "Harry's right. You are an impertinent little shit." He yanked his cloak away and clasped it. "You always get yourself into trouble."

"ME? I don't get into trouble—trouble follows me."

Stopping in the corridor, Malfoy had the beginnings of a smile on his lips. He suddenly laughed. "Stealing Harry's favourite line now?"

Michael opened his mouth, rage filtering through. "I need to find my sister you Death Eating scum. She's missing."

If a Malfoy could get any paler, then Draco would be the first one to accomplish it. Michael saw a second of realisation dawning on his face.

"We need to find her."

Michael placed his invisibility cloak over his head and followed his every step.

They walked past everyone, Hermione desperately trying to quell Ron from going anywhere. "I'm fine!" he told everyone. My arm's all good now—if Malfoy goes, I'm going too."

"Well if you're going I'm coming as well," Hermione huffed.

Malfoy held his hands out, stopping them in their tracks. "Weasley, just think for once. You're not fit to fight and if they catch Granger—"

"They won't!" she said defiantly.

"I'm just saying," Malfoy leaned in to whisper. "Harry has enough on his plate to be worrying about you two. If I'm correct, I think the Dark Lord has Jessica."

No, thought Michael, feeling quite ill.

"Are you sure?" Remus asked.

"I don't understand. Why would she just leave like that?" Christopher shook his head. "We were safe—"

"Because… because… Oh I can't say it, what if Death Eaters—"

"The Taboo." Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Don't say it."

Hermione breathed in sharply.

Ron flexed his fingers. "Can we go now?"

Malfoy regarded him carefully. "It's best you all stay here for safety."

"I'm touched, Malfoy, I really am. But we're still going." Hermione spoke. "Although, it's nice to know that you do care about his friends."

"Granger." Again there was a filthy scowl on his face. "Just shut up."

(*****)

Several pops later, Malfoy, Ron and Hermione appeared by James's side, ready to fight. His grey eyes widened at the sight around him. James pushed them back. Then a fourth person was revealed.

James was furious as the boy pulled the invisibly cloak off his head. "MICHEAL—LEAVE!"

"I'm fighting Dad, and you can't stop me." He ducked under his father's arms and ran through the destroyed house, following Hermione. The boys were about to go after them, when they spotted Harry.

"Harry," Malfoy hissed, slowly making his way towards him.

Ron hesitated, but stood alongside James. He was scanning the house, eyeing the destroyed kitchen and the bodies covered with cloaks.

"Ron, look at me," James warned. "The battle is in front of you, not behind—"

"My mum is dead, isn't she?"

He wasn't going to tell the boy the truth, when they were staring death in the face. He didn't have to say anything because Bellatrix screamed in delight.

"Well," she laughed. "My traitor nephew has arrived. It's like one big exhilarating party."

"Looks like the party is almost over."

"You're going to die, Draco. I'm surprised you are not the gormless, little rat you always were as a child."

Malfoy's cheeks reddened at his aunt's slight.

"Do you want to fight?" Harry suggested.

"Well, since I have a few wands pointed at me, I might as well have my Death Eaters join in, just to balance it out." She eyed Harry. A line of Death Eaters in the semi-circle, turned to face them. "Take off your masks, Death Eaters," she commanded.

"Oh no," Malfoy groaned.

James was appalled to see the faces of the Conditioned, mostly teenagers and young adults. All stared stonily at them. He saw his son and Malfoy falter with uncertainty.

"They've all been Imperioused, haven't they?" James asked.

"Most the Death Eaters here are the Conditioned you left behind at Hogwarts, Harry. The Dark Lord is furious. He rounded them up and anyone found to have a fake galleon in their pocket was forced here. Are you ready to kill your allies—your friends?"

James was not going to take part killing kids fighting against Voldemort.

She laughed again when Harry was left speechless. "You betrayed us, and the Dark Lord will kill everyone you care about." She raised her hand, and the Conditioned automatically elevated their wands.

James noticed the steely determination on his son's face. He saw a gold glint of a galleon in Harry's palm, before he threw it into the air.

It fell back into his hand. "You seem to think that our master is the only one controlling them," he said slowly. He threw it into the air again. There was a flicker of power around them. James felt it; it raised the hair on his neck.

Malfoy stepped back a few paces, James did the same. Bellatrix cocked her head in curiosity.

"Ha—Harry?"

Harry flung the coin high into the air and without a sound, it exploded. James took Malfoy by his robes and ducked. There was silence, no explosion of magic, just a blinding white light burning through their eyes. James was sure it had affected everyone on both sides of the battle.

Then it was gone and suddenly they all heard painful screams. They looked up and saw the Conditioned writhing on the ground, clutching their ears or eyes. Blood was pouring out of their ears, eyes and noses.

James grabbed Malfoy's robes, but the boy had crunched up his bloodied face in pain. He looked back and saw that Zabini was in the same sorry state. Everywhere in the camp, Death Eaters dropped like flies, screaming. The few left scrambling to their feet were the true Death Eaters and the Order.

Bellatrix jabbed her wand, but Harry rolled onto the ground and flicked his, cursing back. She screeched in excitement. She whirled around, her black dress twisting.

"Oh Harry, do you really think you can kill me?" she asked, slashing her wand.

"I will," he replied, ducking. "You are my Mentor, the one I want dead, more than I want our master gone. Funny, how you've consumed me more than he ever did."

She chuckled. "Then I have succeeded."

"You've used everyone to get to me. You wanted me to make sure I never forgot about you."

"And it was so much fun. Kill me Harry, dear, go on… but…" She stepped backwards, over an unconscious body of a conditioned boy and yanked the only still standing girl, the smallest one of the group, and the only one still wearing a mask. "You need to go through her first. Show me how much you want me dead."

James held his breath as Harry froze.

"Do it, Harry. Your heart may belong to Dumbledore—

"—I don't belong to anyone—!"

"But your mind will always be that of a Death Eater." She licked her bottom lip. "Remember what I taught you. Fight me."

"I remember alright." He nodded. "I remember you taught me to value mercy."

"HA! Mercy has always been your damn, fucking weakness."

Harry pointed his wand casually at the girl. "Take her mask off."

Bellatrix smirked coldly as she did what he asked.

A moment of terror coursed through James. "JESSICA!" James roared, running at Bellatrix.

His son raised his hand, knocked him onto his back. "Stay out of this, Dad!"

James cringed, unable to stand. "Harry, do something—!"

"Take me instead of her."

Bellatrix moved backwards as Death Eaters approached her. Aurors, Hit Wizards and Order members were closing in as well.

"No," she said.

Harry outstretched his arms. "In exchange, take me."

"I don't like your begging, Potter—so unlike you. You were always a fighter. If you want her, come and find us."

James stumbled upright. He was not about to let the bitch take his daughter.

"You're right, Mentor, I'm not the begging type." He smiled, and James saw the steely expression replace the one of worry.

His son swiped his wand at Jessica's legs. As the girl collapsed, exposing Bellatrix, Harry roared, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Bellatrix screeched, jumped out of the way, pulling Jessica with her, and without another second to spare, she Disapparated with his daughter.

"NOOOOO!" James yelled.

45. For the Greater Good

For the Greater Good

James fell to his knees. "Jessica…" His little girl was gone.

The fantastic display of spells faded into darkness and the shouts of Death Eaters retreating, rung in their ears. The world around them resembled hell with flames towering above them, while the earth had turned to mud from the effort of putting the fires out.

"Aguamenti!" a dozen people shouted. Jets of water arched into the air, hissing as they hit the flames.

Harry stumbled nearby, the weight of exhaustion finally taking its toll on him. He stared at the very spot his sister had vanished, looking defeated.

"Harry?" James exhaled. He crawled by his side, shaking with every move. "Where—what will they do to her?"

The Death Eaters Disapparated, leaving a sea of collapsed Conditioned and their dead and dying.

A few Aurors chased rogue Death Eaters still keen to fight through the ruined, burning camp. A German Auror was duelling with Olive Dreadford. At the other end, Mulciber had fallen and was being restrained by four Aurors.

Yet James's mind was on his daughter.

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?" Olive shouted at the German Auror. He didn't reply.

"She's the last one now," Kingsley stated, nursing his injured hand. He collapsed next to James, as more Aurors rushed to fight her. "She'll be a tricky one."

But James didn't care about the duel and his son didn't either.

The fight continued. A few more curses were flung, and then Dreadford fired the Killing Curse, hitting the German Auror as she swung around. Another Auror screamed when she hit him with a curse so grisly, his ruptured organs splattered onto the mud.

"Potter!" Dreadford pointed her wand at Harry, her tattoos stretching hideously on her grinning face. "You know where we are." She vanished with a deafening crack.

James gripped Harry's arm, determined not to make him leave rashly. He felt the boy shaking, not of shock or fear, but with rage. In the back of his mind, he thought, how could he have let them take his daughter?

"James, are you alright—James speak to me!"

His eyesight was unusually blurry when he saw a dark, red-haired woman fell to his side. She kissed and hugged him tight. He could feel her tears on his face.

Amidst his hazy mind and muddled thoughts, he heard laughter. One lone figure fumbled around on the muddy field, wringing his hands. His long hair fluttered about under the green Morsmorde sign glittering in the sky.

"Don't leave me," he yelled, searching for the Death Eaters. "DON'T LEAVE ME!"

Kritikos pace around, and James did nothing as his wife struggled to get a word out of him.

"We shouldn't have taken him with us!" Emily said furiously. Her face was bloodied up from Harry's curse.

Dumbledore hesitated as he gazed into their weary faces. "Stavro Kritikos is a damaged man. He had every right to be rescued along with the rest."

"It doesn't matter! Now the Dark Lord has Jessica and Michael Potter."

"NO!" Lily screamed in terror.

James misheard the girl, surely. Did she say they had Michael too?

"No, tell me it's not true! James?" She shook and slapped him. "JAMES!"

Yet he couldn't say it like it was. He felt sick. His son… his mischievous boy… taken.

Hermione and the Weasleys rejoined them. They were all bloodied up and sombre. "We can't find Ginny," Bill said.

"They have her," Emmeline breathed, sitting down with McGonagall and Sprout's help. She looked deathly pale and there was a large wound on her stomach. She was losing blood.

"You can't be serious?" Charlie gasped, gripping Ron's arm.

"I saw Cadwallader, Kissane and Rosier take her before the giants destroyed the house."

Lily covered her mouth.

Then Emily spoke up. "And I tried to stop them taking Michael, but Klaus Ebner was quicker—I am so, so sorry." She knelt down, putting her bloodied hands on Lily's shoulders.

Lily touched her cheek, before burying her head on James chest. He could feel her shaking with sobs.

"He'll be using them against me," Harry croaked.

Lily cried out. "Please tell me they're safe." She smacked James's chest with her fists. "We were supposed to protect our children!"

Dumbledore did not look himself. "We need to regather before we attempt any rescue, and we need to deal with your Mirror, Harry. I am worried Gellert may go too far."

"Don't you think I know that?" he snapped.

"I know you do. However, you need to be seen by a Healer first. Go to Remus's. All of the Conditioned must go as well."

The boy scowled at being told what to do. Harry found his feet again and helped Draco up. The boy groaned in pain, his face all puffed up. The other Conditioned around them were in a similar sorry state. They all Disapparated, and the Weasleys followed soon after.

"Amelia."

"Yes, Albus." The Minister was half carrying an injured Auror.

"We need everyone moved to Remus's. We cannot leave the dead. The Death Eaters will return to desecrate the bodies and take theirs."

James looked out into the campsite, seeing people checking the bodies. He wondered if Imogen had gotten out ok.

"Let's leave a few decoys that will explode," Kingsley said as the other Auror Commanders and their battalions joined them.

"Good idea. James, Lily, we will find your children."

He stared into those blue eyes, now full of sadness. Then with a small pop, Dumbledore vanished as well.

A goblin grunted as he hobbled over with a few of his kind. "We are ready for battle again!" Bladak growled.

"You goblins are always ready," responded Robards. "You're always itching for revenge"

"In this instance, revenge is all the more power for us."

The altar was nothing more than rough stone, crudely chiselled away. After a brief struggle, and almost escaping their clutches to hide in a dark hole, Harry was found and dumped onto it. A dozen or so hands made sure he could not get up.

"LET GO OF ME!" he yelled, trying to gouge Saul Croaker's eyes out. Mannix yanked his hand down, placing it into an iron shackle.

Grindelwald casually ordered a large tome, to hover over to his side. Its leather was peeling and its pages yellowed from age. Harry watched him peruse through the pages as though nothing obscene was happening around him.

"You can't do this! I'm not letting you get any power off of me."

Grindelwald looked up, his grey eyes scrutinising. His cheekiness was gone and nothing but staunch determination was in them. "I can find ways around that, Harry. Now be a good boy and stop struggling. You'll waste your energy and you'll need every ounce of it if you want to survive."

But he was just as determined to make the ritual go astray as his Mirror had done to the Dark Lord. He could manipulate the magic. He knew he could if he put his mind to it.

Grindelwald approached the altar once Harry was tightly secured, and ripped his shirt open. He raised his hands, muttering something as he circled his wand over their bodies.

Instantly, his every inch of him prickled. Harry knew it was a Purification Charm, which is usually used before rituals. He struggled, but Grindelwald's gnarly, arthritic hands—a legacy from prison—was placed on his chest. He hissed from his coldness.

"There, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"Fuck you!"

"Now, do not fear the first part of the ritual. The ancient symbols are runes. They will help to release your power and my absorption of it in a much smoother, restrained way. It will protect us."

"That makes me feel safe," Harry gritted through clenched teeth.

"Well," he sighed. "I do care about our survival."

Breathing in deeply, Grindelwald closed his eyes. Then he began to speak in a foreign language. Golden symbols materialised around them. If Hermione was here, she'd know what they all meant. All Harry could think about was not letting the wizard absorb his power, as those golden runes filtered through their bodies.

Suddenly, Grindelwald stopped and the spell vanished. One of the finer points Harry had learned in Charms was that disrupting a ritual could have dire consequences on the people involved.

The Dark wizard gazed deeply into his face, cocking his head to the right. "Oh Harry, did you think I would not guess you would use your magic to corrupt the ritual?"

He had this most crushing feeling of despair.

"I thought so." He grinned. "Albus never told me about Voldemort's secrets, but I gathered snippets of information from your Mirror's mind. Voldemort may be an intimidating wizard, but I am better. I use my brains. I have protected myself against you. And that, my boy, was not the real ritual, only a test run."

"I'll fight—"

"Fight me all you want, but in the end I will prevail."

He began the incantation again. A golden glow covered their bodies, the runes absorbing into them. This time Harry felt a strange buzz as the runes filtered through him. That buzz became a twang as they began to test his magic. Faster and faster the runes penetrated. It did not hurt him, but it was uncomfortable. The runes sped so much that now they were nothing but a blur of white light, enveloping them both.

A strange hot wind circled them like a tornado. When Grindelwald opened his eyes, they were not grey. Instead, they were green, like Harry's. The wind rippled around Grindelwald and his entire body morphed to look like him, but only for a moment. Harry was paralysed in shock, but with the blink of an eye, the old wizard was back to looking like an old man.

It seemed as though Grindelwald had achieved a victory, he gazed down at his hands upon Harry's chest, and smiled.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and continued to think with all his might to repel whatever Grindelwald was doing, and fight against releasing his power. He began to feel something pulling at his very being. His power was ebbing away bit by bit.

"NO!" He fought to put up a barrier to protect his magic. Yet every time he was successful, Grindelwald ripped it apart. "I'M…NOT…GIVING IN TO YOU!"

Lily couldn't find Harry amongst the seriously injured in the house. The Weasleys were huddled against the bodies of their mother and brother. Children cried for their fallen parents, and vice versa, and Emmeline Vance—a dear friend—had succumbed to her wounds. The senior members of the Order gathered around Emmeline's body, crying. Lily wiped her tears away before taking in a deep breath. The living needed her.

She saw Severus helping a witch drink Skele-gro. Lily quickly wandered over, ignoring the fact it was Imogen he was helping. "Have you seen Harry?"

"He's the least of my worries." He suddenly took out his wand, staring at the doorway.

Confused, she saw a couple walk in. A man with brown hair with steely eyes surveyed them all. He wore black knee high velvet robes, cinched at his waist with a thick leather belt, carrying various daggers. The leather was burned with the Dark Mark. His leather boots were shiny and smooth as he treaded confidently within the house. A thin woman held his arm tightly. Her eyes widened at all the injured.

A few Aurors took interest, but none more so than Dumbledore. Lily bit her lip as she heard people whispering around them. "…Notorious Thirteen… He was You-Know-Who's chief interrogator…"

"PAPA! MAMA" Two small boys run over and hugged them around the middle. The father hesitated before touching their heads.

"Edric, welcome back," Dumbledore stated. "You couldn't have come at a better time."

The man grunted at them all. "You all seem a bit ruffled up."

"Yes, we are. Why did you come?"

"There was a message for help," he replied, then hesitated ever so slightly, "by Potter. What can I do?"

"Harry sent you a message?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "And you believed it?"

"I verified it."

"Come with me. A lot has happened."

Lily searched for Harry. He couldn't have gone far she thought, not with his injury. She then met James on the stairs.

"He's in the twin's bedroom," he replied, squeezing her hand tightly.

"Are you alright?" she whispered.

"I'm fine. I'm going to see Arthur—make sure he's okay."

The second floor was just as crowded. She opened the bedroom door. It was the only room bathed in darkness and silence. "Harry?" she called. Even in the dark she knew he was in there. "What are you doing in here?"

Lily switched the light on, and discovered he was sitting on her Mirror son's bed, hand gently caressing that Portkey book. Her breath caught in her chest. Questions sprang to mind.

"Don't you dare touch his things!"

He turned his head ever so slightly to face her. "Three drops of blood and I could escape this hell."

She briskly snatched the book from his hands. "You won't! You belong here, and you need to help us!"

Harry looked up, blinking slowly. His entire left side drenched with blood now. "How can you be so strong, Mum? How can you come find me, when your children are with the Dark Lord? How can you still love me, after everything I've done?"

Mum… She never thought that a single word could invoke so much grief and happiness at the same time.

But nothing was okay. She was barely hanging on. One more thought of her children, and she thought she would burst into tears again.

"Because you are my son."

Lily almost chocked when he touched her hand. She entwined her hand into his and sat next to him. Thankfully he did not resist as she peeled back his robes from his shoulder and examined his injury. His collar bone stuck out of a horrible wound. She couldn't heal it. It was something beyond her knowledge.

"Aren't you in pain?" Are you hurt anywhere—?"

"I let them get caught."

Her throat constricted. She reached over to touch his hair, seeing that the pain in his eyes was more than wound deep. Gripping her wrist like a vice, he pulled away from her and shot up to stare out of the window, where new tents had sprung up like mushrooms in the landscape. He rested his head against the glass, his shoulders slumping. His fingers lightly padded the glass, while his breath fogged up against it.

"Harry?" Lily itched to jump up and hug him, but she knew he would refuse her.

There were so many other questions she could've asked so many more things she could've said. I love you and I miss you so much. Taking a risk, she moved to see his face.

"Don't look at me," he hissed.

"Sweetheart, I'm here for you."

"You shouldn't be."

Lily didn't know how to comfort him, and she didn't know the right words to say. "You'll pull through this, and you'll succeed. For the sake of your brother and sister, and the others you must!"

He shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I'm so ashamed. I'm a traitor."

"I wish you had never gone through this alone. What happened to you in fifth year and the summer—"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"You were still a child—"

"ENOUGH!" He pushed her away and she stumbled back, hitting the armchair. "I am not a Conditioned. I am a commanding Death Eater!"

"You're not anymore!"

He bolted out of the bedroom. She followed him into the living room. Lily found him talking with Hermione and they seemed worried about Ron.

"He's still in shock, and Mr Weasley's still not responding."

"Stay with him, Hermione. I'll come find you once I get my collarbone fixed."

"Dumbledore wants to meet us in fifteen minutes by the stream." She rubbed his arm, jerking her head towards Lily's way. "Your mum's found you."

He turned around with a look of distain on his face.

"Sit your arse down!" Lily ordered, unleashing her wand. "And let me clean your wound."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Go on, do as you're told."

With a huff, he sat down. He was determined not to look her in the eye. And quite frankly, Lily would lose resolve again if he did.

"You can't heal this yourself?" she questioned, trying to distract her thoughts of her captured children.

"I can heal minor cuts and bruises but, I'd need to reach the Caro level in my Mage ability to do that. That'll take years."

She sat back. "You know a lot about being a Mage, don't you?"

"Dumbledore taught me everything."

"There's so much we don't know about what you went—"

"Stop, Mum!"

"Do you think if you told us, that perhaps you…" She knew he was staring venomously at her for even trying to talk about it.

"You could ask the next Mirror that wanders into this universe."

Lily decided to stop prodding him. "Harry, I need a Healer to see this. I can't help you. Agnes—"

He stood up abruptly as the Atoner made her way over. "I don't want that witch anywhere near me."

"She's a great help." Lily gripped his hand to stop him leaving.

"I don't care. You keep that Atoner away from me." He yanked himself free, scowling at Cotter.

"Harry!"

"It's alright, Lily," she drawled. "We have a long history together and I don't want to remind him."

For a few moments they silently glared at each other. There was a lot of anger in his expression. "That's right, Cotter. You're lucky I'm just going to try and forget it, only because you helped our mutual friend."

"I feel extremely fortunate, but, you don't scare me."

He jabbed a finger into her shoulder. "You should be."

Agnes crossed her arms. "I'm sure your victims are petrified of you. Do you ever think of them?"

"No." A twitch appeared in his cheek.

"How many people did you torture and kill? Tens—hundreds—?"

"Stop this!" Lily cried out.

"Many, just like you did. If you keep at it, you'll be next."

"You might end this war, but you'll always be a Death Eater."

"No shit?" He laughed. "Thanks for pointing that out. I had absolutely no clue—"

"Enough!" Lily said, as people stared and whispered. Several Aurors were twitching to intervene. "Harry, sit down. Let me find Octavia or Madam Pomfrey."

"Yes," he spat. "We're wasting time here."

Agnes followed her through the house and once they were far away Lily said, "He is so damn angry and I don't know how to help him."

The Atoner squeezed her arm and Lily just covered her face, trying to stop her tears.

She wondered how to help him recover and help him help himself when he was determined to be alone. How could she tell him that he could trust her?

"Now is the worst time possible to attempt anything, Lily. It will drive him further away."

"He needs help."

"I understand you, but listen to me. You have to hear the brutal truth. He will never be your son again. Harry Potter is a stranger to you and it will take a long time before he will let anyone into his life again."

"I know. I bloody know!"

"If it wasn't for his Mirror helping him, he would not be here. He would have disappeared and let us rot."

"I thought passing the Dark phase would've changed him."

"It has. But it hasn't quelled his hate for the world. He despises everyone and himself. Lily, I tortured him and if we were alone, he would not have hesitated to harm me. Dark phase or not, any man would want revenge."

Lily stepped away. She could not imagine what Agnes had done to her son. "You helped him."

"Not before I helped to destroy him," she answered sadly. "Lily, I'm not a good person."

"Agnes," Lily held up her hand. "The main thing is that you changed. I just wish we could help him."

Agnes sighed. "If we can't, his friends will. He'll come back to you eventually. Now, go find Poppy." Agnes knelt down to help a wizard with a broken leg.

After finding Poppy, Lily saw Parvati holding Harry's hand, asking him something. Emily, Blaise, and Draco soon wandered over, holding bloodied rags on their faces.

It was dark in Remus's backyard and Dumbledore waited outside the back door, staring at the misty sky, wondering if Mars was especially bright tonight. Just the day before a red-haired Centaur had approached him with dire warning.

"We may not see the stars, but we sense it. We sense heartache and the black that smells of death imminent…"

"Black—?"

"You know what we mean, Dumbledore. It has been used…"

"Are you sure?"

"It has been used." The centaur stared gravely at the sky. "And we are afraid that we will not be prepared."

Two hooded figures materialised from the back door, one with his arm in a sling. They briskly walked up the path.

"Harry, Hermione, walk with me," Dumbledore said.

The boy turned around, hood covering his pale face. "No holes in your memories now?"

"None whatsoever," he replied, peering at the boy over his glasses. Hermione smiled nervously.

Down to the stream they went. The mist swirled around them with every step they took.

Kingsley and Marianna sat on the stone wall with the Amelia and Gawain. James paced anxiously. Chief Bladak was nearby examining the stones along the stream. Draco and Emily hung back in the darkness, waiting impatiently. On the other side of the wall Severus and Edric had arrived."

"Ibbott, well I take it?" Harry said very stiffly.

"Still alive." He bowed slightly.

Harry crossed his arms and turned his back on the Death Eater ."So, what are you planning?" he started. "I want us to be on the same wavelength. No secret rendezvous and rebellious attacks."

Dumbledore was suddenly lost for words. "I'm… I'm so relieved you're back."

The boy scoffed. "My brother and sister are gone, and my Mirror is stuck with Grindelwald and all you want to talk about is how I'm back. Do you think you'll soften me up to be your puppet again?"

"No, not at all—"

"I will never forgive you."

"I understand."

"Is that it? You understand?" he hissed. "Do you know what Dumbledore did to me?" he asked everyone. "Do you know what Ibbott's part was?"

"We know everything your Mirror found out," James responded

"Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Why did you come back?"

"Why I?" He laughed like he had heard the most ridiculous question in his life. "I'm not here for you."

He wanted to hear the boy say the truth. "After you woke, you had a million places to escape to. You had the perfect chance to leave us to die and be enslaved. So why did you come back to fight? You almost did when your Mirror arrived. You framed him and he ended up in prison because of it."

"I wasn't myself then. Parts of it I can't even remember. But I'm not making excuses. What I did was bad. Now I want to finish what I almost completed. I want to kill them. I want…I want…"

"You want to see me die."

"You took the words right out of my mouth."

"HARRY!" James said aghast.

Severus spoke up, "We are in the middle of a very serious situation, and your son is deciding to have a tantrum—"

"Severus, let him be. From the moment he became a Death Eater at my request three years ago, he's had a lot he's wanted to say to me."

"Does, er, the Horcrux still have control over you?" his father asked.

"No." Harry rubbed his eyes. "But the connection is strong with Voldemort. Much stronger than before he used the Stitch."

"He manipulated you at the Order—"

"It won't happen again. I'll make sure of that. Speaking of manipulation, I know that's exactly what you planned to do before we went for a stroll here."

Dumbledore pinched the crook of his nose. "Harry, it was never my intention. Yes, I have been opportunistic using you and your Mirror when there was no other way to achieve a better outcome. Now I want to work with you to end it."

"You knew the risks that the Dark phase would have when you ordered me to become a Death Eater."

"But I believed you could do it. You are our only chance, Harry, and I had to risk it."

"I wish you never…"

"Think Harry! If you had not become a Death Eater, your siblings would be dead or—"

"Asking me to be a Death Eater was the easier option you took. Looking back, I would rather deal with those consequences then ending up torturing, killing, and then… then being conditioned myself. Do you know what it's like staring into a mirror and seeing what a monster you've become?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, seeing his own reflection every morning…

He would then see the boy kneeling by Voldemort's feet as he fought to choose whether to give him up. He saw Mirror Harry in Azkaban pleading with him to get him out. "Yes," Dumbledore whispered. When he opened his eyes, the boy was staring back.

Amelia cleared her throat. "I cannot stop you from killing your Conditioners. You have the Ministry's permission to end them." She eyed Edric Ibbott warily.

"I don't need anyone's permission," Harry hissed.

A wizard's revenge was an awesome thing to fear. It was the reason why Grindelwald had been defeated in the first place. "I'll go after Gellert and get your Mirror out. You will concentrate on Voldemort. After all, innocent souls will be destroyed if you do not stop him."

"You're still ordering me around."

"Harry, you have forgotten that even though you are more powerful than me, I am an old man. Wise, perhaps a bit weary, but I have years of experience in battle over you. I have witnessed more horror than you have, albeit, I have no experienced it first hand as you have. You will do as I say. We must work together. Can you do that?"

"Just make sure he goes home," the boy curtly replied. "Dad, did you bring the Marauder's map?"

James pulled it out of his pocket, unfolding it on the stone wall. The Order members gathered around it.

Harry pulled the hood of his cloak off, and massaged his healed shoulder. "Do we know how many died? The Conditioned?"

"Eighty of the Conditioned died, the rest are still waking up from that little curse you put on them," Kingsley said, smoothing the map out.

Emily and Draco fidgeted. "We should've gotten them all out," she said shaking her head.

"We didn't think he'd use them like this," Harry replied, "And what about everyone else?"

"Over two hundred Order, Auror and being causalities. A few were taken alive," continued Kingsley. "But there were several other attacks in prominent Wizarding villages in Europe."

"Merlin!" James said.

"How many of the true Death Eaters died here?" Ibbott asked.

"Ten."

"Are any of their deaths significant?"

"Alecto Carrow."

Albus saw a smirk appear on Harry's lips, before he looked at the map again.

Kingsley tapped his chin. "Rookwood, Mulciber, Rowle are prisoners. So that's four Seniors flicked out of the inner circle."

"That won't matter because the Dark Lord will replace them quickly with aspiring Death Eaters," Severus said, and Edric agreed. "He'll replace Alecto in the Nortious Thirteen."

"Meantime he will prepare to attack us again until we are wiped out," Kingsley said.

Dumbledore was worried about Voldemort possessing the boy again. "Harry, once this meeting is over, you must leave."

"I understand," he said.

"Can I make a suggestion," Edric spoke.

"Why are you at this meeting?" Draco shot back, his eyes narrowed to slits. "You've been hiding for months, and then two seconds at the Order, you're here?"

"A death wish, perhaps?" the Death Eater replied.

Dumbledore felt uneasy as Harry and Edric stared at each other, knowing what the ex-chief interrogater had done to the boy. "He is at this meeting at my request. Edric was part of the inner circle as Harry and Severus were."

"We need all the experience we can get and they have access to the most secured chambers in the castle that Voldemort and the Seniors like to meet and are allowed to enter."

Severus looked around. "You have to realise that in the event of a major battle, the Seniors will be by the Dark Lord's side, hidden in the castle, biding their time to escape. The rest of the army will fight for them—pretty much everyone not worth a Knut to the Dark Lord. We know where they will be and we won't hesitate to use the Dark Arts."

"Now," Edric started, "the Dark Lord would feel more confident knowing that his plan had worked better than he had expected. We should spread rumours that more than half of the Order has been disseminated. It'll give him the illusion that we are not ready to fight back any time soon."

"Then only to surprise them when they are not prepared," Kingsley added.

"Besides, he'll be interesting in me now, to even consider a looming threat," Harry said. "He needs to get his power back."

"Bladak, do you think you're up to the task spreading these rumours, or would you rather sit back and sharpen your battle axe?" Kingsley rested his elbows on the stone wall.

"Not exactly a noble job, but we can help. However, I want my goblins in a good spot in the battle."

"We can arrange that! So, how and when shall we do it?" Amelia asked.

"It should happen straight after Dumbledore deals with Grindelwald," Harry answered.

"Do you think he will help us fight? I am disgusted he has taken the boy, but we need his men for this. You said he would work with us."

Dumbledore looked into their silent faces. "He will, Amelia. Battling Voldemort would be a very good opportunity to make himself more popular than he is now. Now Hogwarts…"

James pointed to the map. "The passageways, here, here and here are now blocked off. Which ones did you kids use to get the prisoners out?

"The ones we used to escape were temporary."

"I think the best way is penetrate is to break the castle's defences—"

"Magic you put up," Albus interrupted.

"Yeah, so I will need to go in first… hopefully Voldemort won't have noticed the minor holes yet."

"The ghosts too," grunted Bladak, "and the goblins."

"The ghosts first," ordered Harry. "They'll be the easy part. They will enter the castle via the lake, same spot Myrtle likes to exit via the pipes."

"What are you planning with them? What much can they do?" Severus asked.

"Peeves will help them be more solid. I put the poltergeist through a transition by restraining him so much he is much more volatile and powerful."

"They'll fight from within the castle, while we surround it." Dumbledore smiled.

"When I get in, I will put Peeves to work, and find Voldemort. I won't pull the defences down til the last minute. I need to find where he's hiding the hostages and the Horcruxes."

Gawain grunted. "Kingsley, talk with the Auror commanders. Get their men ready." The Auror nodded, before he continued. "We will all be camouflaged before getting into position. First we need a battalion covering the forest with the centaurs, so we can stop the giants and Dementors from getting involved. The moment they emerge, we need everyone's Patronus covering the field."

"The giants will be trickier," Dumbledore said. "Make sure Hagrid is in that group."

"Is there anyone remaining at Hogwarts who can help?" Hermione asked.

"Ministry Death Eaters, the Healers and Yaxley are still there. I've sent them a message to be prepared," replied Emily.

"Good, good, now, Harry how will you get in?"

The boy looked glassily at the map and gave a little snort. "Through the front door…"

"Are you insane?" James blurted. A few shifted uncomfortably at the notion.

"You said that the connection between you and Voldemort is stronger now, if there any chance you can connect with him and see what he is doing?" Dumbledore questioned. "It might help us."

"I've tried, but since he possessed me, he's blocked me off. He's not scared of me, but he's scared of my Mirror."

"Harry, who do you need with you?"

"Snape and Ibbott—"

"Me too!" Draco said.

Harry looked at the boy. "Alright."

"Continue to plan, I'm going to Cork now," Dumbledore said, fitting gloves onto his cold hands. "Wish me luck."

Harry jutted his chin at Hermione. "Can I come with you sir?" she asked.

He regarded her carefully. "Yes, why not." He may end up needing some help.

The world swayed around, and his eyesight was blurry when Harry woke up.

"Welcome back." Grindelwald smiled and his eyes were darker than usual. There was something ominous about it.

"Wha-what happened?" Harry tried to sit up, but of course he was tied down.

The wizard leaned down. "It seems I underestimated your power. The ritual partly worked. However, you were rather resistant to my efforts and fell unconscious. I have gotten some of your power, but not enough. Will you give me permission to continue?"

"No."

Grindelwald's nostrils flared. "Harry, I do not like disobedience—"

"I don't like crazed psychopaths wanting my power."

He placed his hands over Harry's heart.

"Leave me alone!" He struggled as the wizard began the incantation again.

Then someone hit him with a curse, Harry felt extreme pain weakening his will to repel Grindelwald. He was distracted by the pain, and soon felt his power draining. His heart was slowing and his magic was waning. The light was dimming. He was going to die.

"YES!" Grindelwald shouted. "It's working!"

Harry yelled that he was dying, but the wizard didn't care. Absorbing a Mage's power was becoming an addiction to him. The ritual ended, but now, Grindelwald was able to absorb Harry's power on his own.

Then there were distant shouts of an angry wizard. Harry's eyes felt too heavy to open.

"STOP AT ONCE!"

Dumbledore!

Grindelwald let go. "Too late."

Harry opened his eyes. Weak, he felt so weak.

Grindelwald's hands shook. "I need a little more."

"Gellert, you almost killed him. Look at him!"

A little more awake, Harry saw Dumbledore. His long beard swayed in a light breeze, his dark cloak covering his white hair. Hermione stood beside him. A few supporters lay still by their feet.

"I'm disappointed in you."

"I'm not, I'm rather thrilled."

"You almost destroyed the boy."

"Come, now, Albus. The boy will quickly recover. I won't kill him… but I need just a little more power…a little more…" he outstretched his hand again to connect with Harry's skin.

"NO, SIR, DON"T LET HIM!" Harry shouted.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore roared, flicking his wand.

Grindelwald fell in agony, clutching his broken hand. "Do you think you can stop me again, Albus?"

"I will. I gave you a second chance—"

"No you did not, you only used me, as I had used you."

As the old enemies glared at each other in duelling pose, Hermione rushed to the altar and began undoing Harry's restraints.

"Are you okay?" she asked, swiping her wand over the shackles.

"I…I don't feel right," he slurred. "Help me sit up."

Wide eyed, Hermione let him put his weight on her. He slumped onto her shoulder. "Harry, here's your wand, can you create a spell for me?"

He fumbled and trembled. "Lumos…" Nothing happened. "Oh no," he groaned. "Lumos… Lumos… I can't…"

"No, no, I see something. Your power is weak, but it's still there."

"You see, Gellert, he can barely fight and it will be a while until he can."

Grindelwald heaved his chest. "Well that's good for me. It means I am a Mage now. Another ritual and I will be able to begin stimulating it beyond what I have been given."

Dumbledore circled the wizard. "Hermione, take Harry behind the boulder over there and do not intervene, whatever happens."

"Oh are we going to fight are we? Careful, Albus, you do know they always end in disaster."

She obeyed, helping him stumble across the cave chamber. Behind the boulder Saul Croaker was stirring awake. Hermione thumped him over the head with her elbow.

"Sorry," she said.

"I suggest you do not fight," Dumbledore said. "Otherwise you will be back at square one."

Grindelwald ignored him and slashed his wand. A green light whizzed at Dumbledore. He whirled in time before it struck a stalactite, exploding it.

"Crude, Gellert. You used to be a master dueller. You always said using the Killing Curse was a bastard way of finishing things—Anapneo."

Grindelwald quickly deflected it. "Did I say that? Sixty years of prison has warped my memories."

"Pity it hasn't warped you for the better." He fired another spell and another.

Grindelwald was knocked off his feet when rope circled around his ankles, though he managed to aim his wand at the cave ceiling. "CONFRINGO!"

Rocks collapsed, and Hermione screamed when Dumbledore was buried in the rubble. Harry sleepily watched, trying to move, but Hermione held him back.

There was a blast, and half the rocks encasing Dumbledore flew into the air and hovered above their heads. He rose, stumbling a little and brushed himself off.

A smirk died on Grindelwald's lips. "Incendio." Flames erupted and were hurled at Dumbledore. He in turn produced a silvery shield to deflect the curse back to its caster.

Grindelwald jumped out of harm's way and threw a jinx. But Dumbledore was better. Harry watched the old headmaster flick his wand, sending a jet of a purple curse. As Grindelwald turned, it struck him on the shoulder. He fell and lay still.

Dumbledore hesitated. Around them silence permeating, but the supporters were beginning to stir into life again. Any moment, the others in the camp would be hurrying to see what was happening.

"Is… is he dead?" Hermione asked.

The old wizard strode across the chamber. "Gellert?" He prodded him with his boot. There was no response.

"What curse was it, sir?"

"It stops his heart for a few seconds, before restarting. However..." He knelt down, shaking his shoulder. "Gellert?"

Grindelwald opened his eyes, as Harry and Hermione walked over.

It all happened in a flash, before they could have done anything. Grindelwald pulled Dumbledore down, and something—a glint of silver was plunged through his chest.

"NO!" Hermione screamed. Dumbledore staggered upright and looked down. The dagger had penetrated his chest down to its hilt.

"Gellert…"

Grindelwald looked shocked and outstretched his bloodied hands. "Albus, dear Albus. It was never meant to end like this."

"It's done. Just help… help us beat Voldemort…" His eyes rolled back and he fell onto his back. "Just remember... it will all tumble down."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You... will see." His eyes rolled back into his head again.

"SIR!" He can't die again. Harry wanted to curse Grindelwald into oblivion, but the Dark wizard vanished with a pop. He crouched down. "Sir, you're going to be alright." He held Dumbledore's head in his arms as Hermione tried desperately to stop the blood flowing.

"We need to get him out, fast." Hermione looked at the faces of Grindelwald's supporters, some of whom were gaping in shock. "Someone help us!"

"Harry…"

He looked down into Dumbledore's paling face.

"Sir don't talk, you need your energy."

"We need to get help," Hermione said loudly. "He's dying."

"Harry take my magic—"

"No I'm not. You need it to survive."

"Please… I have been living on borrowed time for two years." Dumbledore fumbled for Harry's hand, gripping it tight, but he could feel nothing. "Do it Harry. Take a little, that's all."

It felt so wrong to do so. Harry was too weak when he tried to, and so was Dumbledore.

"You need rest. It will come back."

"Harry, hold him, and I'll-I'll Apparate us to Remus's," Hermione sniffled. She took a deep breath.

"Here, I'll help," Saul Croaker said, fully awake now. He linked arms with them.

The Apparition was dizzying and black, and only lasted seconds. They stumbled back when they hit the ground. Dumbledore lay very still on the soft snow.

"HELP! WE NEED HELP!" Hermione screamed. People hurried over.

"Sir? Sir, wake up," Harry whispered shaking the wizard's shoulder. "It can't happen again. No you can't die again!"

Dumbledore inhaled sharply. "I'm dying Harry. Go home… please…" A tear trickled down his eye. "I'm so sorry for what I put you through. Tell, tell Harry, he will not need to fight Grindelwald... the last curse I..." He inhaled deeply once more and his blue eyes saw no more.

"Don't die!"

"Oh." Hermione covered her mouth. "Oh God."

The Order members were running. "HEALERS, GET THE HEALERS!" Kingsley roared.

It was too late.

46. Double Trouble

Double Trouble

The Dementor mist hung low and thick over Hogwarts. Not a sound stirred as Severus paused to stare at it, knowing that after tonight, it may not stand as proud as it has for a thousand years.

In the distance, the misty forest and mountains surrounding the lake were in darkness. There was also red hue over the horizon. The sun had hours ago so this meant that fires and Muggle made explosions were occurring all over the country to flush out Death Eaters. What the Muggles didn't know was that most of Voldemort's army were at Hogwarts, and those controlling the Muggles were just Muggles under the Imperious Curse. Already, Imperioused Muggles have been killing and weeding out those resistant to the change.

Severus and the others tiptoed through the courtyard of the castle wearing invisibility cloaks. They didn't show it, but they were all scared.

They headed towards the cliff where the castle precariously stood on top of. Beneath, they would hide, making sure the Hogwarts ghosts entered the lake and castle safely.

The ghosts would arrive soon amongst within the Forbidden Forest where the goblins were hiding, while Grindelwald's men were in Hogsmeade. However, Grindelwald was nowhere to be found.

Severus noticed something new. Every kilometre or so, small fires begun to lit up, glittering around the castle and lake.

Edric poked him in the shoulder blade. "Keep moving, Severus."

"Do you see them?"

"Yes, not a good sign, looks like our master is vigilant of an attack."

They dodged a group of wandering Death Eaters and navigated through entangled vines. Severus couldn't help shake the feeling that something about this plan was ill thought through.

"Potter."

Potter pulled down the invisibility cloak, revealing his head. "What is it?" the boy hissed. He was in a dark spot between a gargoyle and the ivy covered wall.

"There's a problem."

The boy's eyebrows rose. "And what's that, Snape?"

"The ghosts will be rather bright in the dark. We haven't had the time to think about this plan thoroughly."

"Yes and there are Death Eaters watching the lake at strategic points." Edric pointed towards the fires.

"We have to dispose of them, no big deal," Draco said.

"It is not simple, Draco," Edric spat. "There are only four of us against hundreds."

"The goblins—"

"We'll be dead before taking ten steps into the castle! Now, how the hell are we going to deal with the ghosts sticking out like a sore thumb? They're only invisible to Muggles."

Out of the blue, right next to Potter, a pair of bright, orange eyes blinked back. "I can become invisible," it said.

"Peeves," Draco whispered.

"That's because you're not a ghost," Severus replied.

"Correct-ee Snapey," the poltergeist cackled.

"Peeves, stop annoying us! Just go in the forest—darken the ghosts, and guide them into the lake. Now."

The poltergeist froze in mid air, upside down. "But all work and no fun make Peevsey very sad."

"You can have all the fun you want once the battle's begun. Go, and make sure you're nowhere near us," Potter ordered. "The Bloody Baron will be watching you."

Peeves blew a long raspberry. He vanished from sight and rained on them branches and leaves from the ivy. They felt a whoosh of wind ruffle their cloaks before the poltergeist vanished.

They climbed down a sloping part of the cliff, where old steps had been worn away from the forces of nature, and walked into a little nook covered with vines and waited.

The boy pulled out his galleon and whispered to them, "Marianna's reported that the ghosts have arrived."

Snow was falling, light and magical, turning the field beyond into a white landscape. Dumbledore's pale face glistened in melted flakes and his blue eyes gazed lifelessly into the sky. Harry gently wiped the water away, because nothing—even nature—should be allowed to desecrate the dead.

The realisation slowly sunk into everyone as they gathered around Dumbledore's body. How could he let him die again?

"Let the Minister through," someone shouted.

"Good God!" Amelia gasped.

"How did he die?" Kingsley asked.

Robards pushed through. There was disbelief on his face and he looked lost as to what to say. Harry remembered him as a brittle old man, languishing away in the Black Square. He looked different now, healthier and now a force to be reckoned with. "What—? Tell us!" he demanded

But Harry was unable to speak. Next to him, Hermione bit her lip as tears ran down her cheeks, ruining her mascara. She shook her head as more people started hurling questions at them.

People were closing in now, suffocating them. Whispers rippled through the camp of the news.

"Stop this!" Lily shouted, rushing to Harry's side. "They're in shock, give them some time."

The Hogwarts professors knelt down. They held the headmaster's hands, touching the lined skin of his face, shaking their heads in dismay.

"He protected us for so long," Flitwick murmured, trembling.

"I know… I know…" Professor Sprout patted his back. She slowly wiped her eyes. "But he said he was living on borrowed time."

Flitwick nodded before bursting into tears.

For Harry, even though he was in shock and grief was once again rearing its ugly head, he felt strangely numb. It was like he was disconnected from Dumbledore despite how ingrained he had been in his world and in this one. Yet, there also vindication Harry experienced after everything he had been forced to endure.

Sighing, Harry rested a hand on Dumbledore's forehead, sick to his stomach for thinking such thoughts. He gently brushed away the accumulating snow and closed those blue eyes forever.

"He can't be dead!" barked the Minister. "He—he was alive an hour ago. He can't die! Not now."

But he was. Dead… Gone… And now they had to fight without him.

"Harry, get up—move."

There was a hand squeezing his shoulder. He thought it was Ginny, like a distant memory. However, it was Lily.

"It happened again," Harry croaked, letting go of Dumbledore.

"I know, but come on, let's get you in the house."

"Hermione—?"

"She'll be fine."

Hermione had stopped crying, and was doing her best to answer the Order's questions.

He was pulled up, and suddenly he was assaulted by the sounds of cries and distress pressing on him like a vice. Many people were pointing at him with confusion on their faces.

Harry steadied himself with Lily and Remus's help and as he walked to the house, he vaguely noticed several people following: James, the Pettigrew children and Christopher.

"Where's Harry?" he asked, walking through the throng, dazed and exhausted. Why is the Order here? Why are you all injured?"

Remus pushed through the gathering people now staring at them. "We'll tell you everything in due course."

"Hang on, isn't Potter at Hogwarts?" a smug voice rang above all others.

Harry jolted when he realised it was Cormac McLaggan was gawping at him. Around the boy, there were several familiar faces from Hogwarts too.

"Polyjuice," Ron growled. He brushed past the boy and followed.

Harry couldn't remember ever getting into his bedroom. But he sat down on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window. He was so grateful for the silence now.

"You're safe now," Lily said, placing a warm hand on his face.

"Yeah, Harry," Ashley said, her eyes bright and wide. "I'll look after you."

He was startled out of his thoughts. "He died… again."

"Lie down. You need rest. It'll help revitalise your magic." Lily sniffled and helped pull off his shoes. "You don't need to tell us how Albus died. We will get the information from the others."

Harry was relieved, because the last thing he wanted to do was to talk about the death. "I've got to go home." He briefly spotted the Portkey book on his bed stand. "I'll be fine."

"Don't be stupid, you're staying put," she spat in exasperation.

He wanted to argue, but sleep tugged at his eyes, and his head felt so heavy now.

"Drink this," Cotter said, handing him a goblet.

Where did she come from? "I don't need Dreamless—"

"It's a Strengthening Potion. Drink it."

He took few mouthfuls, and felt more energised. "Where's Harry?"

"At Hogwarts now," replied Ron morosely, looking very pale, especially against the large red gash on his cheek. "He left an hour ago, and we are waiting for the signal to go there."

"You mean the Order will attack tonight?"

"Harry!" Lily said shaking her head. "Sleep."

"He needs to know what happened," James snapped. "We haven't got time—"

"We were meant to keep him out of this!" she yelled.

"And we've failed," replied James darkly.

"Look, I want to know," interrupted Harry in the middle of his Mirror parent's row. "I've invested so much of my life into this..."

There was a long pause before anyone spoke.

"Yes we'll attack." Remus cleared his throat. "Harry, Snape and the others and the ghosts are going to block off the secret passageways and chambers where the elite Death Eaters will escape through."

"Harry, you had accidentally found yourself in one of them, before you burst into Lestrange's sleeping quarters," said James proudly. "A few know whereabouts these entrances always are—they constantly change locations—their Dark Mark brightens when they're near it."

Harry looked up, struggling to keep awake now. "Did you know of these passageways, because I've never seen them on the map?"

"We knew of their existence after the creation of the map. In the duplicate we made, we discovered the routes are unplottable, just like the Room of Requirement."

"We think it's most likely Voldemort will escape… with his captives…" Remus added.

"Captives?"

"Jessica, Michael and Ginny are missing." Remus sighed.

"What?" Harry gasped. "Can you please start telling me what's happened?"

Their expressions said it all, even before they said anything. By the end of the story, Harry was devastated once more. Could he really leave this world right now, in such a mess?

"God, Ron, I'm so sorry," he gulped. "Lily—"

"Enough! Enough talk. You need to sleep," she said, cutting him off.

As she brushed away his fringe, Harry saw so much hurt and worry in her face. Three of her children were now in the throws of death. He knew she could handle it. She was a powerful witch, ready to fight for her kids. After all, she was the reason he survived in his world.

"If I had a choice, I would've gone to Hogwarts instead of Harry." Her eyes were full of tears. James took her into his arms and gently kissed her head.

"Er, I'm going to check on Hermione, see if she's okay." Ron mumbled before slipping away.

Harry closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw golden runes, and Grindelwald stabbing Dumbledore playing over and over in his mind.

The darkness began playing tricks on Severus's eyes the longer he stared at the still lake. Sometimes he saw monsters break the surface, and strange little lights hovering over the water. He was grateful when Potter spoke, breaking the monotony and coldness around them.

"Peeves's darkened them."

"Blaise reports that they're on the move," Draco added.

Nothing lit up over the lake shore. It was a good sign in Severus's opinion.

"The ghosts are now in the lake and moving towards the pipes."

"So how are we getting in now?" Draco asked. "And don't say the front doors, Harry, I know you're bluffing."

Potter pointed at the opening of the cliff where the first years would be taken through in their boats. "Is anyone feeling a little bit nostalgic this evening?"

"Not particularly, no," replied Severus.

Potter ushered them inwards into the darkness of the nook. "Lumos… let's go over this plan again."

Draco unfolded the Marauders map and gave it a flick. Edric pointed to a passage way on the map.

"Once we are at the main staircase, we will spit. When ever there's the full moon, the entrances are around these points: I will go near Hufflepuff dorm. Draco will attempt the one where Mirror Potter had disappeared through. Severus you will go to the Dungeons—that one only changes position in the same corridor. You'll know where it is by checking the mark. Potter you will go to fourth floor, near the room with the trapdoor. The ghosts will meet us at all the points discussed, open the gateways and let us through."

"Why can't we open them?" Draco asked.

"Because we are not in fear for our lives like my Mirror had been. Besides, the magic in the passageways would sense our deceit—remaining closed. The ghosts won't register. They'll filter through, then solidifying with Peeve's magic."

"Then what will you do, Potter?"

"I'll summon the Order, make sure they're in position, and then bring down the castle's defences."

"We will then block off all Disapparating points within the passageways and kill the Death Eaters as they come through." Severus concluded. "If we survive, we'll join the battle."

"Okay, let's do this." Potter smiled, though Severus noticed the hint of nervousness on his face.

They hiked down into the tightly guarded cave filled with defences and an iron gate. The little boats that usually carried the first years to Hogwarts drifted disused and unloved.

Except, as they stealthily moved through, it was not peaceful and empty. They approached a battalion of Death Eaters guarding it. Draco swore behind him.

"Move out. It looks a lot worse than I expected," Edric ordered.

Back outside in the cold night, they hid in the same nook. By now a strong breeze had arrived and snow had begun to fall in earnest.

"They are expecting something, and of course, people are looking for you, Potter."

"I know, Ibbott. Looks like it's time for plan B." The boy breathed in deeply and clicked his fingers.

Twelve smoky plumes of dirt rose up from the ground around them, swirling and thickening until they were the same height as the boy. Potter looked at them all, as they slowly materialised in his likeness. Twelve Potters stared stonily back at their master.

"Now what?" Severus whispered underneath his cloak.

The twelve decoys vanished. "We're going back in," Potter said. They hid behind a stone column covered in slippery green moss near a few boats. Potter threw off his invisibility cloak, outstretched his hands, and a strange hot wind circled the cave. All sound vanished.

"What are you doing?" Severus hissed, pulling him back behind the column, afraid they would be seen.

"No one in the castle will hear us."

Severus saw a blur of a figure running through the cave.

Shouting echoed around them. "THE BOY—POTTER'S HERE!"

"GET HELP!"

The boy waved his wand, and the entrance to the castle was closed off, trapping the Death Eaters.

"It won't stop them summoning the Dark Lord," Edric said.

Potter nodded sombrely. "He'll wait—he won't send in reinforcements."

Spells shot in every direction, some even hitting the column, cascading down sparks. Severus pressed himself against the column and caught sight of a decoy jumping like a nimble cat around the Death Eaters.

The silent decoy jumped onto the boats, barely making them rock. Several Death Eaters followed, but they lost their footing and fell. Cold rotting hands broke through the surface of the water and pulled them down. More chased the fake Potter only to end up in the water, never to resurface.

As Potter led them behind a closer to the entrance, the decoy jumped onto the rocks. In unison, the Death Eaters pointed their wands at it.

Having a death wish, the decoy ran straight into them. Green, blinding light forced their eyes closed in a silent explosion. Bits of debris, splintered boats and body parts splashed into the water. Through the smoke and fire, the Death Eaters were screaming.

Potter unblocked the entrance. "RUN!"

They bolted through the iron gate, vaulting over torn bodies and broken boats. Severus wasn't as fast as the others as his leg still pained him. They sprinted up the stairs and down corridors until they found the familiar marble staircase and smoothly ornate interior of the hallway that led into the Great Hall. They hide behind a large tapestry and waited.

Hearts pounding and out of breath, their ears were pealed for rushing Death Eaters, realising a breach in security, though nothing happened.

Potter clicked his fingers and the rest of the decoys appeared throughout the castle.

"POTTER!" a voice echoed through. "GET HIM."

Wizards were crisscrossing each other trying to catch a decoy or two, yelling curses and setting the slashed painting and tapestries on fire. Parts of the staircase were blown to pieces as one decoy jumped up the stairs.

"What's sort of trick is this?" one shouted. "There's more than one."

Edric closed the tapestry they hid behind and turned to them. "Good luck everyone." He whispered. He disappeared first.

Severus could feel his cloak fluttering in the wind as he looked out. "Potter, Draco, you go next—keep against the wall until you're up the stairs."

But the boy had a steely look of deceit in his eye. He grabbed the boy's arm, before he had the chance to run off.

"We discussed everything, Potter. What are you planning to do?"

"Let go of me, Snape—"

"Tell us the truth!"

"I'm going to go straight to him now and kill him off at his weakest point."

"You're insane!" Draco sputtered. "You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Don't you understand," he hissed back, "innocent souls will be lost. Voldemort will disappear at the first whiff of trouble. Right now he isn't ready to fight and it's to my advantage."

Severus yanked him forward until their noses almost touched. "And how do you suppose you will destroy the Horcrux within you?"

"I'll deal with that when the time comes. Just let me go."

"You don't know what you're doing!"

Potter pulled his arm free and with one last look at them, he bolted.

Draco doubled over, looking momentarily lost.

"Don't dwell on his stupidity, Draco. We have our mission to complete," Severus said, pulling his invisibility cloak over his head.

"I can't believe he's dead…"

People were talking. Harry woke up, thinking he had dreamt the voices, but they were real. With his eyes still closed he listened in to the whispers, refraining from licking his parched lips.

"Hermione why do you think Harry made you go with Dumbledore?" asked Ron.

"He wanted me there for his Mirror, in case something happened to Dumbledore," she replied, flicking through a book roughly.

"You're reading that book Snape gave, Harry, why?"

"Because, there has to be something in here about healing a person's lost power."

Someone else sighed in the room. Harry instantly recognised Remus's sigh anywhere. "When Harry was a child he absorbed his father's power. James was stuck in bed for weeks. He couldn't even do rudimentary spells for months."

"And from what I heard Bellatrix experienced the same, but unicorn blood helped her heal quickly."

"That's a hideous thing to do! Harry would never touch unicorn blood, but he can't afford months without doing magic," she said.

"Hermione, get as much rest as you can, and Ron, I think you need to stay with your family until Harry's signal comes through."

"That can happen at any moment," he mumbled. "I want to stay here. If I'm with them, I'll, I'll find it hard to, you know…"

"It's okay, we understand," whispered Hermione.

"We'll do what you like, but I need to go in the basement. My furry condition is about to erupt."

"But is Grindelwald going to help?" Ron said. "I hope he's killed that supporter who murdered Dumbledore…"

"Yes he is. I've heard that he is already waiting in Hogsmeade with his men," Remus yawned.

Harry opened an eye, wondering why they all thought a supporter had killed him. He held his breath when Hermione let out a strange whimper.

"Hermione, what's that look for?" Ron asked.

"Ah… Nothing…"

"No, you're hiding something," he pounced. "Say it."

There was a long pause before she answered. "Okay. What I'll tell you now needs to be kept between us," she murmured. "Dumbledore made me promise."

"What did he say?" Remus asked a little warily.

"He said if he died by Grindelwald's hand, I had to lie about it. Otherwise, we'd be after Grindelwald's blood before the battle had even started, and we can't afford distractions."

"Unbelievable," said Ron in annoyance. "So we'll be fighting with a wizard who killed Dumbledore. With a dagger I might add!"

Harry opened his eyes. Remus in the armchair and Hermione sitting on the bed, pretending to read now, with a deep line creased on her forehead. Harry turned in bed, realising that he had been tucked in tightly.

Hermione sprung into action. "You heard everything, didn't you?"

"Of course…" Harry nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"Good, I need you to keep quiet too."

"Yeah, alright," he said, sitting up and helping himself to water.

"How are you feeling, Mate?" Ron asked glumly.

"Much better. How are you two?" He drank deeply.

"We're okay..." Hermione squeezed Ron's shoulder in reassurance.

"Listen, I want to go back home now. I can recover there. I just can't be here any longer." Why did he feel so much guilt?

"Right now?" Hermione's eyes widened, "But what about Harry and everyone else?"

"I've done all I could, I think." Harry rested his hands over his eyes. "What's the point of me staying—so I can attend funerals?"

Hermione gasped. "Don't say—"

"It's the truth!" Harry picked up the Portkey from his nightstand.

"But you can't go now!" She jumped up and smacked his hand away from the Portkey.

Why were they suddenly so reluctant to let him go? Though, it didn't stop him from feeling shame, and the ballooning guilt weighing down heavily on his shoulders.

"Yeah, we need to have—I don't know—proper goodbyes and all," Ron said. "Your parents—"

"My Mirror parents will understand."

Remus was very quiet. Harry waited for the barrage of words to come out, even when the werewolf poured him a glass of a Strengthening Potion for him to drink.

"Say something," Harry snapped, grabbing the goblet from Remus's hands.

"I can't stop you, but at least, wait until morning."

"You'll all be fighting soon." Many of you will be dead by morning, he thought darkly.

"Lily won't let you go now. It'll be too much for her to handle with two children captured and Harry in the castle. If-if you left without saying goodbye, I know they'd be devastated… we all will."

"That's unavoidable. I'll be upset too, but the time's co—"

He couldn't finish his sentence, a strange cold filtered through the room, dropping the temperature. He stiffened when he heard a laugh.

"You're mine..."

Harry inhaled deeply. No matter how much Tantibus Mentis he had had, it could never drown out the chill of Brode's voice.

"What was that?" Ron spat, looking around the room as he felt his own demons.

When Hermione realised, her eyes widened. "Oh God, Dementors!" The camp outside started to stir with sounds of defence spells and Patronuses.

Remus withdrew his wand and gazed out of the window. His shoulders suddenly slumped. The werewolf whirled his wand and a Patronus of a hawk flew from its tip.

"Produce yours now. James is my Secret Keeper, however, they can still sense our location—there must be hundreds of them."

The sound and brightness stung every cell of Michael's being. He didn't know where he was, or what he was in. He couldn't remember how he ending up here, but he did recall a Death Eater knocking him out at the Burrow.

His eyes were squeezed shut, and he pulled his jumper over his head, so that the light wouldn't be so bad. He did the same for his little sister and made sure Jessica was always within his grasp.

"Stick together," he told everyone. Ginny held onto them, and to a boy they didn't know.

"I can't see anything. This light's blinding," she shouted.

Their words echoed eerily, and there was a loud whooshing sound around them.

"He's going to kill us, like those girls," the unknown boy said.

"What are you talking about?"

"A stitch in time saves nine," Jessica murmured against Michael's ear. "A stitch in time saves nine. A stitch in time saves nine."

"What does that mean, Jess?" He pulled the girl closer to his chest as she kept repeating the words.

"A stitch in time—"

"Stop it, Jess!" Michael said, squeezing her shoulders. "You're going to be okay. There isn't anything to be afraid of. I'm going to protect you."

"The black that smells of death is what will end us… Do you feel it? It is here…"

Swiftly, the blinding white light dimmed, and the sound vanished. Michael hesitantly opened his eyes, letting his eyes adjust to his surroundings.

Gold and silver bars crisscrossed around them, like a glittering cage. He outreached his hand wanting to touch it.

"Don't do it, you don't know what curses are on it," Ginny spat.

The unknown boy looked about eleven, though he hadn't been a prisoner because he was well fed and dressed finely. He moved behind Ginny, frightened.

"How did you end up here?" Michael questioned.

The boy scowled. "My Death Eater dad took me. Mum wouldn't let me go, so he cursed her. Next thing I remember is being in this cage with two other kids…they're… they're dead now. He took them—they never came back."

Michael quickly realised they were in the headmaster's office, and when he turned around, the door opened. They all gasped.

He had never seen the Dark Lord before, but had heard stories about him. The red, snake-like eyes and white skin pulled over his skull made him look like a demon. His bony, long fingers were like strong spider legs, and as he snarled at them, Michael saw tiny, sharp teeth in his mouth.

"You're going to pay for this!" Ginny yelled. "You can't do this to us."

Voldemort paced around their weird golden cage. He broke into a grin and laughed. "I will do anything I like, girl."

"YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

Michael had never seen such anger and hate in Ginny.

"You are wrong, Miss Weasley," Voldemort hit back. "I am what I am to better myself. I wanted power, and I have succeeded."

"How are you feeling?" Michael spat. "The last I heard, my brother tinkered with your power. You don't scare us—you're nothing."

Voldemort slashed his wand, and Michael felt pain across his neck. He could hear Ginny and the boy screaming.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you."

He couldn't breathe as hot pain strangled him.

There was a flash of red light, and the spell immobilising him was relinquished. Michael turned over, gasping.

Ginny screamed, "HARRY!"

But Voldemort was laughing, high and cold. Michael opened his eyes. The Dark Lord was flexing his injured arm and Harry pointing his wand into his master's face.

Through the pain, Michael smiled. Sweat was running down his brother's face and his chest heaved in and out. This wizard wasn't the Mirror. This was his Harry. That dark, haunted look Harry had carried for years was gone. Urgency and courage replaced it.

"A stitch in time saves nine. Did you know that, Harry?" Jessica smiled wistfully, her white eyes staring between them.

"Yes, Newt," he replied, though his focus was entirely on his master.

"You must be tired after your attacks. My Death Eaters have been chasing around your illusions."

"I'm fine," he replied.

"Is it a duel you want?" Voldemort pointed at Harry's wand.

"Maybe… I mean you've got me now, so why don't you release the prisoners?"

"But they're needed." He grinned. "Go on Harry, fight me, my guards will—"

"Where are your guards? Shouldn't they be here? Oh hang on, they're dead. Sorry."

Voldemort hissed. "Did the traitors come with you?"

"No, It's just me… you've pretty much destroyed the Order."

Michael bit his lip and Ginny's eyes widened in shock.

"Yes I heard. The Order never had the power compared to my army." He chuckled. "Ghosts and goblins fighting against our might? The stupidly of your lot has entertained us."

Was it true? Michael held his breath.

"However, do you think I believe this story? Do you think I believe the Order is truly gone?"

Michael watched on with his heart on edge. Please, please let Mum and Dad be alive.

"I know you, Harry. In fact, we know each other so well. I knew you would betray me again, and I know you'd act in Dumbledore's place when the time came. So please forgive me now that I'm highly suspicious." Voldemort smirked.

Michael was proud that his brother did not show an ounce of emotion.

"Fight me, Harry. I know you'd like to kill me. It will give you time to destroy my Horcruxes," Voldemort said.

"Maybe…"

"Fight me." He gave his robes a flick back and poised himself into duelling position, raising the Elder Wand. "Silence will get us nowhere."

"HARRY, DON'T DO IT," Michael yelled.

Instead, Harry walked silently over to the headmaster's desk and placed his wand gently on it. "This belongs to you. I think we can both agree that fighting you with it, would end up bad for me."

The smile on Voldemort's lips faltered.

Harry stared at a shelf carrying a vast amount of artefacts and the Sorting Hat. He swiped his hand and the objects flew his way. Voldemort realised, quickly slashing a counter curse, but it was too late.

A gold cup, a skull and other curious objects hovered above Harry's hand. They vibrated and within seconds, Michael saw the objects turn into ash.

"Where did you put the real ones?" Harry asked.

"I have them." Voldemort blasted a curse towards him.

Harry ducked in time before the door exploded into splinters. "That's not true. Where did you put them?"

"They are magically concealed in them." Voldemort pointed at the cage.

Michael looked down, and felt his clothes for an object, but he found nothing.

"Harry, attempting to get the objects from my prisoners will end up killing them. Now, will you fight me, or will you be a coward?"

Harry threw his arm back, and a fireball erupted from his fingertips. He threw it. Voldemort fought back with a snake made of water. The two elements hit in midair, showering down steam and sparks. Harry roared, jumped through the steam, knocking the Dark lord off his feet.

"Pathetic Harry—Fight!" Voldemort yelled. But his voice disappeared and he clutched his throat, his red eyes widened in terror. "NO!" He slashed his hand, and Harry was thrown backwards.

"HARRY, WATCH OUT!" Michael wanted to blast through the cage and help, but Ginny held him back.

The Dark Lord hurled curse after curse at Harry, yet he managed to deflect every one of them. However, he was struggling at the speed of them. Harry yelled, igniting a shield around him.

Voldemort stopped, highly amused now. "You thought I was weak, didn't you?"

Amidst the thick smoke and debris filling the office, Michael could hear his brother panting.

Harry growled. "AVADA—"

"Sectumsempra!"

The spells hit together, and a ripple of power threw them apart. Harry staggered upright, just as Voldemort did.

"Os Conteret!" Harry's curse hit the Dark Lord in the chest. Michael heard the cracking of bones and Voldemort falling against the desk.

The Dark Lord staggered up right. "Lux Crepitus." A pale blue light erupted with such force that the glass in the room, that hadn't broken, now shattered. Harry failed to get out of the curse's way in time. It struck him in the shoulder.

Michael screamed. He had to break through the cage to help. He wished he could. He watched his brother fall into a heap, writhing on the floor, his eyes wide open and blood frothing in his mouth.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" Michael roared.

"You can never outdo me!" Voldemort wheezed, clutching his chest. "Never."

"NOOOO!" Ginny yelled.

"Occulta Foramen!" Voldemort snarled. Suddenly the ground beneath Harry's body opened up into a black hole. It swallowed him whole.

"LET HIM GO!"

Voldemort spat out blood into their direction and left the office. The cage that held them brightened and the sound started again.

"I can't hold the Patronus much longer," gasped Ron.

As they shivered through their horrifying memories, the cold deepened. Harry thought hundreds of Dementors may have been an underestimate. There would be thousands of them. Thousands would prevent them from escaping without dire consequences.

Ron's dog Patronus and Hermione's otter bounded around them as people began to realise the situation in the camp.

Remus's hawk started to disintegrate.

The bedroom door flung open. "Harry—out!" James commanded. In two huge strides he grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out of bed. Hermione shoved his valuable possessions into a bag.

Remus opened a hole in the wall and magically concealed his things within it.

"Quickly now," James said, throwing him some clothes.

"We are we going?" he asked, pulling his shoes and cloak on, and tucking his wand into a pocket.

Bird Patronuses flew outside, brightening the house. Harry looked out of the window and saw hundreds more galloping, floating, circling the perimeters of the house in a whirl of wispy white.

"Godric's Hollow. It's safer than here."

A voice suddenly boomed throughout the house. It was Kingsley. "There are thousands of Dementors outside the boundaries. Do no attempt to leave our protection. Those fighting use the ready Portkeys to surround Hogwarts—do not Apparate. It'll be too dangerous."

Remus stiffened. "James, I can't leave. The moon—"

"I'll protect you!"

"Everyone else, use the Floo. That will be the safest route out. Go now, the Patronuses will not be enough to save us for five minutes more."

Lily entered, holding onto the Pettigrew children and Christopher. She stared into her husband's face. "Stay with Remus and Harry, James."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to make sure Petunia is safe." She pulled out a Portkey of a soap dish.

"That Portkey's for Hogwarts."

She shook her head as she took Ashley's hand, and made sure Tony and Christopher touched it. "No, this is one I've always had for Petunia's house and Godric's Hollow." They vanished with a pop.

"LILY—damn it!" James yelled.

"But the Dementors can't get through to us anyway, James," said Harry. "We'll still be safe, won't we?"

"They'll keep assaulting us to the point we kill ourselves or each other."

"You've got to be kidding?"

The cold, ethereal light of hundreds of Patronuses started to dim outside. Harry felt absolutely useless, as he tried to produce his. His trusty wand did produce a wisp of the powerful defence spell, but nothing else.

He swore under his breath. "I can't bloody do anything!"

Remus doubled over in pain. "I need—I can't be here much longer."

"Oh no," gasped Hermione.

"Take Harry, now," James ordered, turning to Ron and Hermione. "I'm going to stay here with him."

"But—"

"JUST GO!"

Harry was swept from the room just as James transformed himself into a magnificent stag with large antlers. He pawed the ground, with his antlers aimed at Remus. Hermione slammed the door shut and bolted it, but it did not stop the excruciating sounds coming from Remus as he turned into a werewolf.

They rushed down the corridor to Remus's bedroom fire grate, though it was hard as the house was packed with people trying to escape. Then someone slammed the bedroom door shut in their faces.

"HEY!" Ron yelled, banging on the door.

Hermione huffed. "We can't Apparate. We'll die getting Splinched."

"Floo—Now." Kingsley's voice boomed throughout the house, drowning out the screams.

"HARRY, RON, HERMIOE!" Emily's voice rang through the crowded corridor. "Over here."

They pushed through until they forced themselves into the spare bedroom where Flitwick was trying to create order. Amelia struggled past them with a bucket of purple Floo powder and dumped it on the floor.

"Ready," Flitwick squeaked. Children picked fistfuls of Floo and disappeared two at a time.

Emily looked pale and clammy. "I've been told to make sure Harry makes it safely to—"

"Who told you?" Ron spat, angrily. "What are we here for, decoration?'

"Kingsley—" Emily cringed in pain, and she pulled out her galleon. There was a dark look on her face.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked, trying to snatch the galleon, but Emily pulled away.

"The Dark Lord is suspecting an attack at Hogwarts." She grabbed Harry's arm, and jumped into the fire grate.

"See you soon," he said.

Ron looked reproachfully back and Hermione looked worried.

"Godric's Hollow," Emily yelled, wrapping her arms around him.

The travel was no any different to regular Floo, except it was purple, but midway through the voyage he felt something grip his ankles. It yanked him out. Emily screamed.

He coughed, having inhaled ash, and looked around in the dim light. The first thing he noticed was that there were children and injured people everywhere crammed into a small circular room. It definitely wasn't Godric's Hollow.

Emily swore loudly and whipped out her wand. She hid her confusion quickly, and turned around to stare at the fireplace. "Aquamenti!" The fire was put out instantly.

"It was a trap, wasn't it?" Harry realised.

"Disguise yourself, quickly!"

Cormac, Cho and a few of the Conditioned gathered them all into the middle.

"Booby-trap the room," Cho said, flicking charms towards the ceiling.

"What the hell happened? Fred asked, helping his twin sit upright.

"The Death Eaters weren't able to get through to Remus's house, but they've circumnavigated the Floo network and redirected all travel from the Yorkshire Dales to here," Emily replied, deflated.

"I think that's a pretty good guess," said Harry dusting himself off, looking around the familiar circular hut. Cobwebs were everywhere and he saw a rat disappear in the corner.

"We're in…" she looked around.

"Hagrid's hut," George replied in a daze. People were murmuring in fear now.

She pulled out her coin, looking anxious.

Harry pointed at it. "What did it really say before?"

Emily looked scared. "Harry's been captured."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, gravely. "The Dark Lord's told everyone in the castle."

"Well that's just fucked things up a bit!" said Harry angrily.

"Harry can you connect with him, find out what's happened?"

"I don't think we have time." And he was right.

"A minute is all we need."

He didn't know if he could connect since he was weak. He sat against the wall and closed his eyes. Usually he connected straight away, but not now. Something was odd. He tried harder, trying to break through the black void of his dreamscape. He suddenly heard a loud whooshing sound that hurt his hears. It sounded like a muffled heart beat.

"Harry, talk to me. Where are you?"

He saw a glimpse of bright light and streaks of golden lines, before the black void took over.

"Help me… help me..." A whisper echoed through.

"Where are you?"

"I don't know," his Mirror responded. "Don't look for me… wait… wait..."

Harry woke, gulping for air. Breathing heavily, he looked around at their pale faces. Emily placed a finger to her lips.

They heard footsteps creaking on the roof. Out of the small windows, firelight danced around… And laughter…

They were surrounded by Death Eaters.

"We've got you now!"

The children were frightened and began to cry.

Emily threw Harry into the closet. He hated that he couldn't do anything. Looking through the keyhole, he saw the Conditioned positioning for a fight.

"If you can fight, fight with us now," Cormac said.

The injured scrambled upright, swaying, but they were determined.

"Show yourselves, traitors!" a Death Eater spat.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, hearing Bellatrix shrill voice outside.

"Come out, come out little children," she said. "If you fight you will die. There's no use running now."

"Fuck!" Fred and George yelled.

"What do we do?" an old wizard asked. "Do we fight to death or surrender?"

"Fighting would be a quicker death," growled another.

"COME OUT, COME OUT!" Bellatrix yelled. "OR WILL BURN YOU TO CINDERS!"

Harry did the most unpleasant and hardest thing he had to do in his life. He jumped out of the closet.

"What are you doing?" Emily hissed. "Get back in."

"They'll all get killed. But if they have us, it'll buy time."

The Conditioned looked at him. "They've got, Harry."

"Yes, but, it'll confuse them for awhile if they have me."

Emily turned back, breathing heavily in fear.

"You're stronger than you know, Emily," Harry said.

She nodded, steadying herself. "Together?"

"Yeah… together..."

Emily opened the door and Harry and the Conditioned walked out into the firelight, surrounded by masked Death Eaters.

Bellatrix flung her mask off, and immediately her leer disappeared as he focus turned to Harry. "Potter? This is interesting."

"Polyjuice, definitely," one said.

"Could be, could be… however, we can't be sure for a few hours."

Without warning, their wands were ripped from their grasp. Something smashed against their stomachs and they were flung to the ground where ropes appeared, bounding them up. Then a boot cracked against Harry's face.

Harry woke when someone slapped him hard. He inhaled deeply when he discovered Bellatrix was on top him, pinning him down to the ground. To make things worse, she pulled out a knife.

"Don't," he hissed.

"Don't worry, Harry. I haven't gotten to that bit… yet."

Bellatrix bent down, her hair tickling his face. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the pain, but none came. Instead she ripped his robe sleeve open. Her fingers prodded his forearm and she muttered different spells. She sat up, looking perplexed.

"I believe the Dark Lord has captured a fake," she whispered.

"Maybe…"

"Where's the Dark Mark?"

"Hidden, obviously." He looked to his right and saw the Conditioned bound up.

"What did you do to everyone with us?"

"They're back in the dungeons again."

He looked around, making note of the Death Eaters. Avery and Priscott were behind him. Dreadford—the tattooed witch was gnawing her fingernails in excitement, and Amycus Carrow was wheezing.

Was it wheezing, or was it crying? Harry couldn't tell until Bellatrix told him to shut up.

"My sister's dead!" Amycus yelled back. "They killed her!"

"Amycus, get out of the hall. You're ruining my concentration." The Death Eater stormed out. Harry heard his sobs echoing, like a howling wolf.

Harry suddenly winced when Bellatrix waved her wand at his face. But she all she whispered was, "Finite Incantatem."

Nothing happened.

"Avery" Bellatrix said, without taking her eyes off Harry's. "Summon the Dark Lord, he'll want to know about this."

"After seeing a few Potters here," he said. "I think we all need answers."

"Congratulations on your brilliant observation skills," Harry gritted, trying to wriggle free.

"Mocking us, Potter? Remember, I'm the one with the knife."

The silence in the Great Hall was unnerving. Green smoke lingered on the ceiling. Something had exploded in here not too long ago.

She bent down low, letting her breasts make contact with his chest, her breath on his cheek. "The question is who are you really?"

It took only seconds for the Dark Lord to enter after Avery touched his Dark Mark. The Death Eaters bowed and moved away so he could approach Harry. In fact, most of the people in the hall quickly disappeared.

Bellatrix hopped up, and straightened her dress. "My Lord—"

He raised his hand for silence. He just stared at Harry. His eyes seemed more blood red than usual. Curiously, there was a dribble of blood on his lip. "Bring him to my office. I want to speak to him alone."

"But my Lord—"

"DO AS I SAY!"

A jolt of piercing pain stabbed through Harry's lightening bolt scar.

Bellatrix clicked her fingers and two Death Eaters emerged. She looked furious. "Take him—TAKE HIM! The others to the dungeon."

Harry skittered away, but they grabbed him by his restraints and pulled him out of the hall, through the castle to the familiar headmaster's office, Voldemort stayed in. He had to be lying if he didn't think he was scared. He was.

They dragged him into the office and threw him on the floor in front of the desk, near Voldemort.

Harry thought he'd play along by touching the hem of Voldemort's robes. "My Lord—"

"No, Harry." He moved away. "Do not pretend—you are the Mirror," Voldemort hissed. "I am extremely angry at what has occurred, but at the same time I am deeply curious. I want to know who you are, and who I am in your world. And I want to know what you've been doing here. What was Dumbledore been up to?"

"I arrived a week ago."

Voldemort smiled. "I think you've been here a lot longer."

Harry stood up. "Where's my Mirror?"

"He is here," Voldemort replied, "in this office."

Harry looked around. The office was in a mess. Broken glass and objects littered the ground. Half the ceiling had also fallen in. "Doing a bit of renovating?"

He laughed. "You can't find them."

"You mean everyone is here?" He closed his eyes and saw something gold and white, and the loud heartbeat of his Mirror and others ringing in his ears. His magic was weak, but his connection although skewed by this strange barrier, was still strong.

Harry felt his head ripping open, not by the Cruciatus, but by a more sinister force. Voldemort was trying to penetrate his mind.

"I want to know why I cannot resist you," the Dark Lord said. Harry fell to his knees in agony, trying to expel the mental invasion. Voldemort pulled back. "But first, tell me how you became a Horcrux."

Harry felt sweat trickle down his cheeks. "Vaguely… I placed a lot of my memories in a Pensieve. I don't recall a lot of details."

"Pity, I could have spared you a lot of suffering." Voldemort circled him, fitting thick dragon hide gloves onto his hands. "Did you arrive with Emily Miles? Did you Polyjuice yourself into Jessica Potter? Did you incite the escape of my prisoners?"

Harry shivered as he scanned the office again. He saw a tightly wrapped object in leather sitting on the desk. "I arrived with Emily, yeah, but it wasn't me who planned the breakout."

"Have you been working with Grindelwald?"

He didn't answer.

"Has your Mirror been working with Grindelwald?"

Harry pursed his lips through a new rush of pain.

"Shall I call Bella?"

"No."

"Good, I have your attention again." Voldemort turned his gaze away and walked over to his desk. Harry witnessed the Obsidian Stitch unwrapped from its protective leather. It was laid out in all its glory. "Come see," he urged.

Harry hesitantly moved. He gripped onto the desk and stared at the Stitch. It was black and petrified like glassy stone.

"It is a beautiful object. Deadly, powerful, mysterious…"

It looked even creepier as Voldemort picked it up in his gloved hands. A streak of blood stained its sharp tip.

"Twice, I've used it." He tore his eyes away from the object, and looked at Harry. "Quite an experience…"

Harry shook his head. "You destroyed innocent souls to save your own. You are pure evil."

Voldemort smiled. "I am deeply appreciative of the girls' sacrifice. Their parents, my servants, gave them up for the cause. They will be rewarded, and they will have more children. Now I have Harry's brother and sister to use next."

"They will make you pay."

The smile was wiped off Voldemort's face. Harry had a feeling the souls were already tormenting him.

"I must admit, their innocence has made me feel strange new emotions. Things I have never experienced or forgotten."

"Good. I hope it'll make you feel the pain of what you've done."

He laughed. "Such emotions are for the weak. I like the fact that it has made me feel more in tune with my Horcruxes. I know where they are and…I feel where they are…" A gloved finger stroked Harry's cheek.

Harry turned his face away in disgust

The Dark Lord placed the dagger carefully back on the desk. "Touch the Stitch," he ordered.

Harry looked up at that demand. "No way!"

"I said touch it." This time, he raised the Elder Wand. "I can make you."

"No you can't."

"I do not need to use the Imperious Curse, Harry, but, perhaps I should let the Death Eaters play with you. They will use you like the wonton whore your Mirror is—"

"He is not—!"

"—I know Bellatrix is especially itching to make you pay."

"Tell me something I don't know." His heart was beating furiously.

Voldemort's red eyes were bone chillingly cold. "I know your weakness. You're Mirror feels the same. He almost thought he was invincible with his power, that he could eventually overthrow me. So I enjoyed watching him being driven into the dirt. He is nothing... nothing but my servant forever."

"You think you won? You didn't! Just because he's your prisoner now, he'll never give up."

He didn't see the curse hit him until it was too late. He writhed on the floor in pain.

"TOUCH THE DAGGER!" Voldemort roared in anger.

Harry shivered, his face pressed against the flagstone floor. "Alright, I'll do it."

He pulled himself up, squeezed his eyes shut, and taking a deep breath as though it was his last, he forced his finger to the Stitch.

Surprisingly, nothing sinister happened, at least in the beginning. He found it warm to the touch. He felt a pulse, strong, and alive. Then he heard whispers, different whispers, voices that belonged to men, women and children. And then…

Harrryyyyyyyy…

That voice, above all else, shone through. It was that same voice he heard in that pool in Grindelwald's lair and even in Azkaban.

Harrryyy Potterrrr…

"Who are you?"

Do you know the dark heart, Harry? The black heart… It is the black that smells of death. Yes, yes you do.

He was frozen in fear and the inexplicable feeling of loss. "What are you?" he gasped.

Do you feel us, Master of Death? Do you feel our pain, our life, our death, and our sins? You feel yours.

Feel it, oh yes, yes you do.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, feeling the breath of the cold whisper everywhere, as though the spirit was with him and within him. "Are you a demon?"

No demon. But I am torn. I am vengeful. I am the darkest desire to punish evil.

Harry could feel the ghostly presence on his skin, in his blood, in his heart and mind. He wanted to withdraw his touch on the Stitch, but he could not move. He was paralysed by a deep seeded fear he couldn't explain and curiosity.

Do you feel our hatred, our vengeance… our need for unattainable justice? You feel the innocence above all else… and our last breath.

'Who are you?" Harry repeated.

You are our champion. You are our justice. My Justice… Open your eyes…

Pale blue eyes suddenly stared back at him in the middle of swirling black smoke.

"Tell me who are you?"

Naught but once a man…

"What happened to you? Where are you from. Answer me!"

The wizard used them to make Horcruxes… I hunted him down.

"WHO?"

Vengeance... That is who I am.

"Please tell me. Help me."

They whispered: My dead wife whispered. My dead child whispered. I ripped my heart out in grief and cursed them all who would do such evil. I did not die…but I was not living. Yet, I could not die until I killed the immortal wizard. Oh yes I did, I tracked the wizard down… I killed him… killed him and threw myself into the otherworld. But my heart lives on and I with it.

I am evil. I am good. I am the heart, Harry. I am you…

"This isn't my fight. This is my Mirror's—"

Your Mirror is scared to touch us. Your Mirror is no innocent. But he has suffered hell already for his sins. He knows… he knows…We will not harm him. Help him conquer his fear and our vengeance will be his.

He gasped and withdrew his finger. But the spirit lingered for a second, passing through his heart. Help him destroy him… destroy me and give us peace.

Harry fell to his knees, shivering. He opened his eyes again, and Voldemort stared back.

"It hasn't harmed you."

He shrugged, curling his cold fingers to his chest.

Voldemort ran his gloved hand along the ridges of the strange dagger. "I had one of my servants touch it."

"W-what happened?"

"He screamed and tried to gnaw his fingers off. The Stitch would not let him go. I think his pain physically was nothing compared to his soul's. Then he pleaded that he was sorry. But he wasn't pleading to me."

"How did he die?"

"He ripped his own heart out."

Harry wanted to be sick. "Are—are you going to kill me for the Horcrux?"

"On the contrary, I will keep you alive. You fascinate me Harry. The soul within you is more powerful than my last Horcruxes. It is your Mirror I will kill. He is too much of a hindrance."

"Aren't I lucky." Harry licked his lips. "When will you use the others?"

"Soon."

"Who will you use?"

Voldemort picked up the Stitch. "If you answer me, perhaps I will spare you Mirror's siblings."

Harry shook his head. "You can't do this. They're innocent kids!"

"Crucio," Voldemort said, and Harry was hit with pain. He felt his mind opening up through the agony, as he writhed on the ground.

"I have a favour to ask of you," Dumbledore said…

"NO" Harry screamed back, not realising he still had that memory.

Then another memory danced before his eyes. He was recovering at Snape's. "Play the part well, Potter."

"The Boy Who Lived…"

The curse was lifted, but Harry's head seared in so much pain from Voldemort's anger.

"Am I great in your world?"

"I can't remember."

"I will get every single bit of information out of you," Voldemort hissed. "When did you become a Horcrux?"

Voldemort entered his mind, but this time Harry pushed back. "NOOOOOOO!" Again there was relief. Harry panted.

"You know, Harry, my Death Eaters are executed for trying to use Occlumency against me."

"I'm not a Death Eater," he spat, rolling onto his side.

The Dark Lord tried again, and this time Harry pushed back so far, he penetrated Voldemort's mind.

He saw glimpses of Tom riddle as a toddler, staring at a ceiling in a loveless orphanage. Saw Tom kill his father…. Voldemort killing baby Neville…

The memories flitted past quickly until one slowed down enough for Harry to witness fully.

Little Jessica was in the woods humming to herself as she picked daisies. In the distance, he could he hear the Potters laughing over a game of football, unaware she had wandered off. Voldemort, heavily cloaked emerged in the clearing.

"Are you lost, child?"

Jessica gasped, blinking back with bright green eyes. She jumped up and looked around.

"Sorry miss, but I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Voldemort smiled under the disguise of a witch with a pretty face. "But I am no stranger, Jessica." He smiled, warmly, but Harry saw the evil in his eyes. "I know your mother, Lily, and your father James… and your brave, handsome brother Harry. He saved my life once."

Jessica bit her lip. "He did?"

"If you point me to the High St, I will tell you all about it." Voldemort outstretched his hand. The girl hesitated, but took it, and instantly fell unconscious.

Now it was Voldemort's turn to scream. He lifted the curse, and Harry was stuck backwards by a fiery spell that knocked the wind out of him.

Through stinging eyes, seeing double, Harry thought he saw something black swirling around Voldemort. He shook his head, his vision returning to normal and realised it was his robes. Voldemort looked frightened of him. "You've never had anyone strong enough to see into your mind. You're shocked."

"You will pay—!"

"You killed the wrong boy in this world, did you know?" Harry said triumphantly. "And now there are two of us. Double the trouble!"

Voldemort stumbled against the wall. Touching his head with shaking fingers, he stared back. His red eyes were so wide, they almost looked human.

47. Breaking Point

Breaking Point

It was a rather deafening minute travelling via Portkey for Lily. The racket was made by the Dursleys screaming in panic. The landing was a shamble as well. The children wobbled but managed to stay on their feet, Petunia was hurled into a small shrub, while Dudley had landed on top of his father. Both were now sprawled on the ground twenty feet away.

"Is everyone all right?" Lily asked, helping Petunia onto her feet. She took one look at the Dursley men and thought they could help themselves.

Lily was shaken up and too worried to think clearly. She would never forget the sight of thousands of Dementors outside the properties, feasting in unison. And she'd never forget her sister cowering on the floor, reliving the memory of her son plunging to the ground. Dudley was shouting, pleading to the Death Eaters not kill him, while Vernon, who had been at work during the assault, was recalling a memory of being bullied as a child.

Her mind was racing with all the chaos and fear she had just escaped from. And she hoped everyone had made it out safely. Two deadly, calculated attacks within a day: it was meant to ruin them. Break their front.

Now there was silence. Blissful silence… and the whirl of dark feelings and sadness gripped her heart. Her doe Patronus was not enough to protect her from the feelings and grief of seeing dead and dying people, and her own son, lifeless on the floor. "CHARLIE. CHARLIIEEEEE—let go of me, Remus—He's not dead. HE'S NOT DEAD!"

"Mum, are you okay?" Christopher squeezed her hand.

She shook her head, trying to dissipate her emotions. Lily yanked her trembling sister forward, and forced Dudley and Vernon to move. Looking sickly green, the men stumbled upright.

"Quickly, everyone, move into the yard." Her voice sounded so quiet. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to calm down.

Even in Godric's Hollow, the snow was falling, but the coldness she felt was from the horrors she had seen and relived.

"Outa' my way!" Dudley lambasted, pushing through them like a bowling ball. He ran to the side of the house and vomited.

"Diddums!" Petunia screeched.

Lily let her sister run over to him. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. They're cover was definitely blown if Death Eaters were waiting in the house.

Vernon pointed a finger at Lily, but refrained from talking. He had to breathe in fresh air and placed a hammy fist to his mouth, trying to abate his nausea.

"It's alright," Lily said soothingly. "Portkey travel can have that effect on first timers."

"I don't care what the bloody hell that was!" Vernon growled, finally brave enough to speak. "Can't you people use normal cars?"

"We didn't have time—"

"And what the hell did we escape from?"

"Dementors…" answered Petunia as she comforted her son. "But we're safe now." She gazed at Lily, expectantly.

"Nowhere is safe." Lily looked around and squeezed Ashley's hand as Tony and Chris levitated a fallen tree away from the set of stairs to the house.

"Tony," she whispered, "Disillusion yourself and check the house."

The boy obeyed, tapping his head with his wand and almost perfectly disappearing from sight. He was young, but the amount of skills he had learnt under Bellatrix would've outweighed Christopher's.

It had been awhile since they'd lived here and it had sustained a little damage from the attack months ago. Debris littered the yard, and even now, there was a hint of smoke. Godric's Hollow around them was slowly being repaired, but it was still a ghost town.

"Is this where me and Tony will stay when all is better?' Ashley asked.

Lily nodded. It was hard to dream about when all was better, when Dementors have sucked all the happiness out minutes before.

"Here," Lily said, plucking out a bar of chocolate from her pocket and breaking it into pieces. Every Order member had to carry a bar around for emergencies. Vernon and Petunia seemed unsure and even surprised at the gesture as the children instantly took a block each. "This will help you feel better."

"Chocolate? Do we look like idiots?" Vernon bellowed.

All the time… "Trust me. It's one of the remedies given to people affected by Dementors."

Dudley gulped, still looking green, but he was the first to take a piece in the family. He closed his eyes and Lily saw the relief on his scarred face.

Vernon simply scoffed at her and crossed his meaty arms. "Preposterous—now what in blazing hells is going on?" he shouted. "I want to know what happened."

"Dear, calm down and let them—"

"I will not have freaks dictating our lives without giving us an explanation. I've had enough of this."

"Vernon, don't walk out of the boundaries—VERNON! Petrificus Totalis!" He fell flat on his face as Petunia screamed, arms flailing, as she rushed to her husband.

"I had to stop him, Tuney, he would've gotten himself killed out there." Vernon's eyes darted from Petunia to Lily in fright.

"Mrs Potter…" Tony reappeared seemingly worried.

Turning around, she realised that the Minister and Professor Flitwick had stepped outside the house, armed.

"Um, there are a lot of kids here and injured people," Tony said, looking up at the Minister.

Amelia looked troubled. "It was a trap, Lily—the Floo Network led many to Hogwarts."

"How could we let this happen?" She felt sick.

Flitwick shook his head sullenly. "When Albus died, something must have weakened in the magic, making the network vulnerable to an attack. There was little time to rectify the problem even if we had known."

Amelia covered her mouth. "Kingsley must know by now."

"Mrs Potter. Harry was supposed to come here, right?" interjected Tony.

She gasped in shock. Mirror Harry. "Isn't he here?' she asked Amelia and Flitwick. They shook their heads.

Lily ran through the house, ignoring Amelia's pleas. Her worry about keeping the Dursleys safe put to the back of her mind. She searched every room, packed with pale people. It was dead quiet, but Harry was nowhere to be found amongst the witches and wizards staring sombrely at her.

Lily herded her little family into the living room and told the children to be armed.

"We are going to Hogwarts," Flitwick and the Minister grabbed their things, "we will meet you there, Lily." Then she proceeded to tell Lisa Turpin, Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet that they were in charge of the group of survivors.

"You're going to fight, aren't you?" Christopher said with worry. "Mum, don't go."

She gazed into his widened hazel eyes, watery with tears. She hugged him tight. "I have to. When you're older you'll understand. Look after Ashley and Tony." She kissed the top of his head. "I love you."

"But Mum—please!"

Her son's hand lingered tightly within hers, and it took her the greatest amount of courage to let go.

The last sound she heard as she Disapparated to the forest meeting point was Petunia yelling out her name.

"BELLATRIX!" Voldemort roared. Blood was seeping out of his nose. The Death Eaters entered at his command.

Harry bolted upright, tensing up, and ready to run. There was no amount of prayer and hope that could get him out of this without magic or backup.

"Harry," he thought as his eyes darted around the office. "Harry where are you?"

"My Lord, are you alright?" Bellatrix rushed over. Her eyes widened at the blood.

"In here, beneath the Dark Lord, where I belong." the Mirror answered dryly. "You won't find me. I'm trying my best to escape."

"What do I do? I need help."

"Anything."

"Get away," Voldemort ordered. Bellatrix sprung back and bowed and the rest of the Death Eaters in her group backed against the wall.

Voldemort straightened up, composing himself. He raised his head, staring directly at Harry. He exhibited deadly power and strength now, as though the hint of weakness he'd showed Harry before meant nothing.

Fuck... he thought. Harry gulped, eyes darting at everything in the office for any way to escape.

"My Lord?"

"This boy is not a fraud," Voldemort hissed, pointing a long finger at him. "He is a Mirror, a Harry Potter from another universe."

The Death Eaters whispered amongst themselves, and even Bellatrix seemed impressed.

"Better start moving, Harry."

The door was wide open. If you are weakened, always look for objects that can help you fight, Snape had told him in one of their earlier training sessions. There was a glass shelf, full of dusty trinkets, and a suit of armour holding a lance. It was now or never. He'd just have to risk everything.

"Harry—GO!" someone shouted from the masked group.

A golden spell instantly hit him and a shield formed.

"And another one bites the dust," his Mirror said. "That was Sinistra."

But Harry wasn't paying attention. He bolted. Blinding spells rebounded off of him, before registering that Voldemort shot the Death Eater who had helped Harry with the Killing Curse.

"SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort yelled furiously.

He immediately tackled his way through the Death Eaters like he was in the middle of a rugby scrum. He ducked and used bodies like shields as curses whizzed at him.

Harry yanked the shelf down—glass crashing around them—then used the lance to stab a Death Eater in the chest.

"Potter!" Bellatrix screeched. "Fini—"

Harry responded by head butting her before she had the chance to remove the shield. He whirled around and as Dreadford was yelling a Slashing Curse, reached out, swerved her wand hand away from his head, so that her spell cut the carotid of a Death Eater behind him, and through the chest of another.

He was near the doorway, but arms and wands were at him still. Harry dodged them, jabbed the lance, knowing he'd hurt one when blood spurted onto him.

"Reducto!" yelled someone in front of him.

Harry used his excellent reflex skills to use his lance to deflect the fiery red magic. It hit the roof with an almighty explosion.

"ARGGGHHHH!"

Debris knocked several of the Death Eaters to the floor. Voldemort fired hexes though the dust, powerful curses, making his hair stand on end. He was yelling for his servants to get up. In the back of his mind Harry wondered if the Stitch, repairing two pieces of Voldemort's soul, was enough to give him so much of his power back.

As grey dust plumed into the air, his fingers latched onto the doorway, but someone lunged at him, pulling him down. He yelled as he fell over the threshold with the Death Eater holding his left leg with one hand and thrusting his wand with the other. Harry kicked him in the face before the spell was complete and heard a howl of pain.

Free, Harry jumped up and ran down the stairs.

"POTTER! Voldemort bellowed at the doorway. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw him raise his wand. His shield evaporated, but Harry didn't care – he was out of that fucking office.

The pain in his scar drowned out the spell slicing open his shoulder.

Dazed and injured, the Death Eaters spilled out of the office in a sea of black and silver masks, shrieking curses—their spells blasting sections of the wall and stairs.

"DO NOT LET HIM ESCAPE!"

Harry was a sitting duck running down the spiral stairs, so he grabbed the balustrade, his hands slick with blood, and swung over, hitting the ground with a crack and a thud.

With no time to think about the pain or check for broken bones, he managed to pick himself up and sprinted down the corridor.

Voldemort roared in fury. "GET HIM! GET HIM!"

Harry ran, smiling at his bold escape, almost slipping at the corner, the pain in his scar crippling him, but he had to push through.

Snape waited in silence, stock still whenever a Death Eater wandered past his hiding spot. He felt the stone on the wall, willing the ghosts to hurry up.

Then after another minute, something clicked, a small wooden door appeared and it opened, revealing nothing but darkness within. Severus climbed through.

The passageway was cramped and dirty, filled with cobwebs and the ghosts.

"Good to see you, Severus," said Nearly Headless Nick. He held a long sword in his ghostly hand. "It feels wonderful to almost be alive again."

"Let's hope you won't die again." Severus noticed that the ghost's neck was plastered to keep it steady. The ghosts were much more solid in form now, but still grey or white and black smoke swirled around them. The smoke was Peeves.

"How long will Peeves' magic work?"

Sir Nicholas looked around the smoke gathering at his hips. "As long as he allows it too." He smiled. "I've never seen him this quiet before."

Severus watched the smoke swirl around. Yes, it was quite disconcerting seeing Peeves in this state.

"We will wait here along the corridor and prevent the Death Eaters coming through."

Ten ghosts lined the wall in front of the door and blocked the passageway. The Friar held up an axe and the Grey Lady, a wand. Severus covered himself with the shadow of a nook and waited, numbing his fear every time it reared its ugly head.

Lily, Amelia and Flitwick arrived within the inner edge of the Forbidden Forest. They crouched low, listening to the forest's sounds and waited in darkness for a signal.

With her heart pounding in her chest and blood drumming through her veins, Amelia imitated the call of a flooper.

The call was returned twice.

And suddenly wizards, witches and goblins disillusioned against the trees materialised.

"Lily," James whispered, waving her over to a massive oak. She ran into his arms and gasped when she saw four gashes along his jaw line that looked as though it was made by claws.

"Did Remus bite you?"

He rubbed her shoulders. "No, our animal forms protect us from that. He just didn't take his Wolfsbane, so he wasn't too happy with me when I prevented him from escaping out the window."

"James—"

He took her into his arms, and his strangulating hug shut her up. James kissed her on her head, his lips lingering for a few moments. It was like their confrontation about their affairs had never happened.

"You should've stayed in Godric's Hollow," he murmured into her hair.

"I want to fight." She trembled. "They've got our children—they've got the Mirror."

James stiffened. She knew he didn't like her worrying like this, because it would break him. "Kingsley's really upset about the Floo Network trap. It took us a few minutes to snap him out of his shock. Two hundred people are hostages again. He's back in command eastside front."

Lily turned her focus on Gawain as he walked over with Chief Bladak. "I don't know what Dumbledore did before he got himself killed but, an extra two hundred Aurors have appeared from Norway and Bulgaria. And a dozen hit wizards have shown up from Australia." He turned to Hermione, sitting in the corner with Ron and a few of their friends.

"I have connections," she said matter-of-factually, tucking her short black hair behind her ear.

"That's good, Granger, we need all the help we can get."

Gawain approached Lily. "Pick a tree and disguise yourself." Then he pointed to the fires they could just make out along the trees around the lake. "I've sent out several parties to kill the Death Eaters on watch while we wait."

"Mostly goblins," Chief Bladak said proudly.

"You do surprise attacks the best."

Bladak bowed.

"But there's too many—"

"You'd be surprised, Mrs Potter," the goblin drawled. "Never underestimate goblins. We adore any opportunity to kill Death Eaters."

While she had been part of a lot of discussions, she had never taken part of the final plan.

Gawain grunted. "So, we've got Hogwarts surrounded outside the boundary of the defences Potter put up. The ghosts are currently navigating through the passageways. They haven't gotten to our Death Eaters yet. Grindelwald's men have got Hogsmeade in check—"

"And where's Grindelwald?"

"Here, where the action will be of course," the wizard said. As he walked forward, his Disillusionment Charm slithered off. He brushed past Bladak, making the goblin hiss in response. He took Lily's hand, and lightly kissed it.

James crossed his arms, frowning. But Lily couldn't help but stare into Grindelwald's cold grey eyes, feeling a little stunned by such a gesture.

"You are just as charming as I thought you were, Mrs Potter. I can see why wizards and Death Eaters would do anything to protect you."

Lily didn't reply. She tested his grip and found his fingers tightening around her hand.

"It is also wonderful to finally meet the prickly Mage's mother," he added with a bit of humour.

Who wouldn't be prickly around you, thought Lily. "Yes, I suppose so," she said curtly. "I'm not sure I could say the same, seeing that you preformed a ritual to extract the Mirror's power."

Grindelwald chuckled as he rose to full height. He flicked her hand away, like he had grown bored of her. "You make it sound like I almost killed him.'

"You almost did!" she spat. James held her back.

Lily would not bow down to a slimy snake like this man. In fact, she did not believe that after what he did to Harry, that Dumbledore had died solely at the hands of his supporter. She knew Kingsley and James doubted the story as well, even after interrogating Hermione several times about it.

"How are you dealing with Dumbledore's death?" She forced herself to ask him tranquilly.

Grindelwald's expression became enigmatic instantly, before he sighed loudly. "Not well," he shook his head. "But we need to deal with the battle now, and not dwell on the past. He would want that."

There was something about this Dark Lord that didn't sit well with her. It made her skin crawl. But she didn't have time to question him further when James gripped her forearm and steered her away to the large oak tree.

"I want you to stay with me at all times—"

"James, I'm not helpless!"

"It's not that!" he snapped. "I don't trust him one bit."

"Neither does half the Order. But for tonight, we have to work together. Tomorrow, who knows?"

"I like your thinking." He smiled. "But stick with me because I'm best at Transfiguration and you're the best in Charms. Working together is what will get us through to save our kids. Either that or… or we die together."

The fear and worry rose up again as he turned away. This was it. It was no drill. This was survival of the fittest. There was a chance they might die tonight. She touched her husband's stubbly cheek, thinking about all they had been through to get to this moment. They were doing to this to save their children, their world, their freedom and they would try their hardest to end Voldemort's regime for all time or die trying.

"Harry will do his bit soon."

"Right," she replied stiffly, looking over his shoulder to find Grindelwald still staring at her. She shivered and said loudly, "If the Goblins could manipulate the magic, then maybe we don't—"

"We can't," Bladak answered. "We tested it when we created a diversion for the Conditioned to rescue the prisoners."

"Lily, when Harry put up the wards, he had intentionally left a tiny weakness for the possibility of rescuing people.'"

"And that has since been patched up by Voldemort with obscure Dark magic," Bodes spoke up somewhere among the trees. "You try to go through that spot now, and you'll vanish for good. It's Department of Mysteries worthy magic."

"We have to wait." James sighed. "I'd never thought I'd ever say it since Charlie's death, but we need to trust him now. Harry had planned this for a long time."

"Lord Grindelwald, why don't you try to bring down the magic?" Bladak hissed. "It should be as easy as piercing flesh with a dagger."

Lily didn't like the way the goblin emphasised the word dagger. James gave her a questionable look from the corner of his eyes.

Grindelwald stared down with a scowl. "Mages cannot undo do another's imprint."

Lily looked around, though disillusioned against the trees she knew everyone was listening in. She wondered what they thought of Grindelwald, now that they knew he had absorbed a Mage's power and that a Mirror Harry Potter existed.

"That's wrong," Bladak spat with a dangerous leer. "A Mage who has procured his magic via the Dark Arts is inferior to a natural born; therefore they can't undo the magic. Looks like Potter might have the upper hand over you."

"I feel as though there is a threat somewhere in that long winded explanation."

They stared at each other for several moments before Grindelwald decided to gaze haughtily at the castle.

Lily shivered, the cold air suddenly dropping a few degrees. She checked over her shoulder for Dementors, but it was just the tension. Tomorrow... tomorrow we need to figure out how to bring him down.

"Er, how do we know when the wards are broken?" Ron asked.

"We'll be able to visibly see the protection come down," Gawain replied, pacing around the trees.

There was a snap of several twigs. Everyone looked up at the noise, but it was only Order members. "Ahh, Charlie, Bill, have you seen any of those dragons?"

"Our team tracked the pen down. It's a kilometre from here. The Jordanian dragon handler got our signal. He can't leave the pen area—he's got a collar on—but he's managed to train the dragons with a series of clicks since birth. Risky, but it's worked without the Death Eaters guessing. He'll let the dragons go when we fight."

"The dragons are still too small do to any major damage—"

"But Horntails are quite defensive when attacked, and they'll see the handler as their surrogate mother. They'll take down more than a few Death Eaters. Anyway, the centaurs moved past us, they've got cover on the giants."

Lily sat down on a large tree root jutting out of the earth. "I'm so scared for the Mirror," she whispered, letting the conversation about dragons and giants drown out. The Dementors were still in Yorkshire, but she was sure that once the battle started they would join Voldemort's large arsenal of beings.

"Don't be—whatever happens I have a feeling Voldemort won't kill him. Remus thought so—"

"Is Remus ok?"

"I, ah, we fought a bit, I impaled him in the thighs."

"Oh Merlin!" Lily said in shock.

"He's fine. It subdued him a bit, and it gave me time to get out… that, and I, ah, clobbered him over the head with the lamp."

Lily cringed. But Remus would understand it needed to be done. She tapped her head with her wand, letting a cool sensation trickle down her body until she had blended in with the surroundings.

She was anxious and she didn't want to wait while her children were facing death.

"James I want to go in. Is there anyway we could—?"

He shook his head, with a desperate sadness in his eyes. "I know, I'm feeling the same, but we can't. Michael is strong, he has the courage. He and Ginny will protect Jessica." He sat beside her. "We will all pull through this."

Gawain grunted again. "The goblins have succeeded in killing all the Death Eaters on their watch.

"Excellent," Grindelwald replied, peering at the castle, his arms crossed over his magnificent vermillion robes.

"Keep running. Head to the fourth floor escape route, you'll meet Draco there…"

Shit! Harry swore inwardly.

He had made it to the fifth floor when more Death Eaters appeared ahead of him, creating a black-lined barrier. With a dozen wands waving in unison, Harry stooped, letting the spells fly past his head and hit the Death Eaters who had chased him from the office.

Harry gritted his teeth in triumph at hearing Bellatrix fall in pain with her friends.

Get up, move your ass! He told himself as he now had to deal with the Death Eaters in front.

He zigzagged past their spells, smacking or piercing a few down with the lance. He deliberately slipped and knocked three of them off their feet—their spells damaging the corridor.

And he was running again, his hair whipping back as he urged his body to push though the pain and lethargy.

"I'm going. I'm going!" he yelled into the darkness as he ran.

"But never keep your back to Voldemort. That's one thing I learned."

He barely had enough time to register the dark figure materialise ahead of him until it was too late.

A thick chain wrapped around his body and he fell with a thud. Voldemort pushed his robes to the side and approached Harry. He knelt in front of him as he struggled.

"You can run all you want, Harry. But I will always find you."

The others arrived next, and circled them.

"Do you want us to kill him?" The Death Eater covered in tattoos asked.

"Not til I'm done with him." Voldemort hissed.

Bellatrix snarled as she nursed her shoulder.

"He is to remain my prisoner, whole," he hissed, so coldly it made Harry shiver. "It is time to show this Mirror a bit of our world's hospitality. Summon me when you're done."

"No, hang on! I'll do whatever you want—!" Harry yelled. He could not afford this. He was ready to go home.

"Too late." Voldemort stood up and turned his back to him.

Then he left and Harry found himself alone with the silent Death Eaters. He was forced up and dragged to the dungeons. The castle before the fourth floor was filled with Death Eaters staring at him. Harry hoped Emily and the others were dealing okay despite hearing the screams nearby as the door was slammed behind them.

Bellatrix grimaced as they forced him into a chamber and threw him to the ground.

"Get the others, Ebner," Bellatrix purred.

Harry swore under his breath. He knew she was bringing in whatever was left of the thirteen who had conditioned his Mirror.

"How's your escape plan, going?" Harry asked in panic.

Then silence permeated the cold, dreary chamber. He was so beyond fear now. He knew what was coming and prepared himself the best he could.

"Getting there…." The Mirror replied rather breathlessly. "Little more painful than I expected. I can't move... If I were you, I'd start stimulating your power."

"I can't—"

"Yes you can! We can help each other."

Then Bellatrix spoke, forcing Harry's attention back on her.

"I knew Potter were acting oddly at Snape's, deflecting my advances, so unlike him and then… Was it really you who stole my power?"

"Maybe." Harry struggled to stand, but the tattooed Death Eater pushed him down with her foot. He quickly realised the tattoos on her body were peoples names.

She licked her lips. "Pity I couldn't kill your parents, Potter. I would've loved their names on my twat."

Harry knew he was in deep trouble.

"Absorb anything."

He touched the ground, and even a touch of skin on Dreadford's hand, but nothing happened. He focused hard then gave up. "I can't."

"Your body's still in shock. Keep trying! You need to realise the danger—they'll fuck you up worse than the Atoners ever did."

"…And dare I say, was it you who stole the children?" Bellatrix said, snapping Harry out of the connection.

"In the cave I did," he spat. He needed to keep talking. He needed to distract them as he tested his magic.

"HA!" Bellatrix, screeched, pointing at him. "The Dark Lord is furious with you."

"I figured." Harry winced when his scar seared once again.

There was a knock and Ebner opened the door, letting a line of Death Eaters through.

His heart plummeted. Was this it? He sighed in defeat. Was this how it would end for him? Tortured before being held prisoner forever?

The Death Eaters unsheathed their weapons of choice and wands, and slowly approached him in a circle, just like they did when they began conditioning his Mirror. Harry did nothing but close his eyes.

I can't go through this. I don't have the energy to fight. He thought hopelessly.

"Yes you can," his Mirror answered. "You're a Mage."

"Feels like déjà vu," a Death Eater with a gruff voice said. The others murmured amongst themselves.

"You could say that," Bella smirked as she moved around him. Dreadford unpinned him and walked away.

"Start goading Bellatrix."

"You want me to do what?"

"Thieves should be punished, don't you agree, Potter?" Bellatrix twirled her wand as she closed the distance between him.

"Go on, I dare you," Harry hissed, sitting himself up. He gave the chains a playful jerk.

Her nostrils flared and a chuckle escaped her lips. "Get up," she ordered. "Get up, or we'll make you."

"Hurry up, Harry, the Dark Lord is moving the captives out of the office—I don't know where he's taking them."

He stood up as she moved closer, staring. "Potter stole my nephew—"

"I think Draco made his own choice. I'd want to switch sides if my aunt was a total psycho."

She made Harry step back when her robes brushed against him.

"I should rip out your tongue."

Harry spat in her face. "How are you going to deal with that, huh?"

Bellatrix had the most insane look on her face. Harry knew he'd made a mistake when she raised her knife. He squeezed his eyes shut, ready for the pain. But none came, except, now there was a hot breath on his cheek.

"Would you like to hear a little secret, Mirror Harry?"

"I suppose I don't have a choice—"

"You're mine."

"No shit?" Harry started when his back hit an empty potions cabinet. "You've definitely got me where you want me."

Bellatrix was so close. Her teeth grazed his ear.

"No," she whispered, her breath making goosepimples spread all over his neck and back. Her dagger was trailing down his cheek playfully. "Listen to my words, Potter… Listen… closely."

If he had been alone with her, he would try to overpower her, but with a dozen Death Eaters around them, he didn't have a choice.

"I'm all ears," he hissed back,

"Did you miss our little midnight calls to your cell?" Bellatrix whispered.

Gregory Brodes…How could he ever forget that question? He opened his eyes and shivered as a cold wave of disbelief and horror enveloped him. As he stared into her dark eyes, it felt as though all the air has been sucked out of the room.

"What did you say?" His mind turned to ice.

"You're mine…" She licked her bottom lip, grinning. "You belong to me, Potter, and I will have you whenever I want," she purred silkily. "Remember?"

Harry was speechless.

"HA! Oh yes, you do! You liked it—you were such a good fucking whore. Spirited. Rebellious. We like that, don't we, Olive?" The witches laughed.

"Get away from me!" he yelled. Harry pushed her away from him as hard as he could and dug his hands into the grooves of the flagstone walls.

Then something happened. He felt a strange energy being drawn into him. It was a weird feeling, neither good nor bad, but it felt so strange that his body tried to repel it at first. He quickly realised he was absorbing a bit of the castle's magic. His emotions, as dark and as powerful as they were, were helping him to stimulate his magic.

"Yes! You feel it. Good," his Mirror said. "Quickly now!"

Bellatrix amusement calmed down enough to taunt Harry. "It was devilishly fun Imperiousing Brodes."

"YOU SICK. TWISTED. BITCH!" Harry roared in fury, with a pain so deep it ripped into his soul.

How could any person do such a thing to another?

And then there it was… his power, so visible that even Bellatrix saw it.

There was a ripple in the air, making their bodies dance. And instead of black ribbons of magic pulsing from his body like had happened during his Dark phase, this time it was a deep red, like blood was seeping out of him. If it had happened in another situation Harry would've wondered what the hell was happening to him. But anything, any flicker of power good or bad filled him with relief.

Harry had jolted the magical wards in the cell preventing him from doing magic; he could almost use the magic around him. Perhaps if he felt angry again, he'd be able to break them.

"Now you need to harness more… get it, and break the castle's defences."

But Bellatrix realised the implications and took a step back. "You're quite powerful, aren't you?" Though, it did nothing to deter the witch's disgusting leer.

"Absorb more and break the wards!"

Harry ignored his Mirror's presence. He just focused on Bellatrix, panting, needing more air. "Why did you do it? WHY?"

"Focus—"

"Fuck you." Harry seethed. "ANSWER ME!" he yelled at her.

"Potter thought he was free of me in Azkaban. But he was so very wrong," Bellatrix said seriously. "We found Brodes in Knockturn Alley one day, during his day off. I knew he worked in the Black Square—liked to rape the witches, so I heard. I Imperioused him—made sure Potter got the same deal… and so did you in the end."

Harry remembered seeing Brodes' dilated pupils, the same as he had seen Jessica exhibit in his Mirror's memories. It was the advanced variant of the curse, rarely used, except by Voldemort and his inner circle.

"Naturally, his little cronies followed his every whim," Bellatrix continued. "I wanted Potter to know there was no escape from me." She smirked. "I always have control over my Conditioned! Their every breath is mine, their every thought belongs to me. And you, Harry… you were my protege. I watched your Mirror blossom from a naïve, fucking Gryffindor, to someone with real skill and power. Someone to be frightened of. Still, it didn't change the fact I never trusted him."

Harry was in total shock and his knees almost gave way. "I almost died in Azkaban."

"You need to break the castle's magic now, Harry. Ignore her."

"Only because you stabbed Brodes."

Again she whispered into his ear. How did she get so close again? "And oh, I was so excited when he almost killed you."

"If you had Imperioused Brodes, why didn't you help the prisoners escape?"

"The Dark Lord wasn't ready to invade Azkaban. When we did, I almost got Brodes to help, but he was weak from sickness and then the prisoners found him."

"Why did you want Harry dead? He was on your side." He lied.

She flicked up an eyebrow. "Was he ever on our side? I think he was on his own." She held the knife right under his chin, there was pain, but not enough to pierce his skin.

Harry gulped, making his Adam's apple dance on the blade. He was shaking with rage. Bellatrix chuckled to herself.

"Your silence says it all, Potter," Julien Roux said, his wife standing by his side in silence. "We wanted Potter dead because he's a threat to the Dark Lord."

Bellatrix nodded. "I knew he never truly broke, I knew he wasn't ready for sixth year, but the Dark Lord couldn't wait longer. And after all this time, I was right, wasn't I?"

"I hate you. You're a disgusting, fucked up witch," spat Harry.

"But?" Bellatrix said wryly. Harry shuddered when her fingers brushed between his legs. "I know you admire my loyalty."

He backed away from her touch. She stepped back, dropping the knife back into her scabbard. She walked back to the others, and then turned around with a wand aimed at Harry.

"I'm quite curious to see if you're different from my Harry."

He looked around for anything to help him.

"I really suggest you work up your power now," his Mirror said calmly.

Harry decided to keep her talking a bit longer as the wands rose around him. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble," he began, "but I think we're very alike."

"But I want to see you bend to my will. I want to see you begging to die."

"I won't bend."

"They all say that in the beginning." They all laughed. "You're going to break, Potter."

"Harry didn't, so what makes you think I will?" He closed his eyes, and imagined that stupid golf ball in front of him from the technique Snape had showed him in the beginning and focused on his power. He needed more magic and touching the castle's stone was not working anymore. The castle itself was resisting him, fighting back now. "I won't. You just watch."

"HA! You hear that, boys?" Bella said while turning to them.

Olive cocked her head. "We're going to take your deepest fears and rip you apart with them."

"Stay focused…"

"Try me," he snarled, giving his chains a jerk. His heart was beating so hard, he was pushing them so much that fear was starting to drown him. Even now as he tried, he could not penetrate the boundaries of the magic of the chamber.

"I know what you're most frightened of," Bella said, her eyes bright with malice. "You don't want to go through it all again, do you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"We'll remind you—Cadwallader." She motioned the Death Eater forward.

He was dark haired, seven feet tall, his hair spilling around his mask, and his fists were huge. He approached Harry in huge strides. Harry pulled his chains til they were taut.

"He'll do. He's really powerful," his Mirror remarked. "He wouldn't be one of the Thirteen if he was stupid and weak."

The Death Eater plunged in an attempt to scare him, forcing Harry to jump backwards. Cadwallader's mask muffled his laugh.

"Feeling a bit touchy are we?" Bellatrix said, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.

"What are you going to do with that, boy?" Cadwallader asked, pointing to the taut chains.

"Kill you."

They jeered and laughed in response. Harry ignored them as he moved around. Cadwallader silently followed his every step. Harry looked everywhere and found an old chair. He threw it at the Death Eater, but he swerved away.

Next Harry threw an old cauldron. It clanked on the floor, and rolled to a standstill at Carrow's feet.

"He's good at nothing except running." The Death Eater bolted at him. Harry attempted to punch him, but Cadwallader grabbed him by the neck and smashed his face down onto the teacher's desk before kicking his legs open.

"NO!" Harry roared. It was Brodes all over again. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think as the Death Eater ripped his clothes.

And then his Mirror came through like a beacon of light, spurring him forward.

"DO IT NOW!"

Something in his mind clicked, shattering his numbness. He was not going to go through it. Never again.

He curled his legs under the desk and kicked the Death Eater hard in the knees with enough force to jolt him back. He had enough space now to flip over and quickly wrapped his hands around Cadwallader's thick neck.

He felt it instantly. An inkling. A spark. A ball of red rage and light was beating angrily within him.

"YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL OF ME!" he screamed.

And through the howling laughter and jeers from the Death Eaters, Harry stared into Cadwallader's mask. The Death Eater's blue eyes were wide with fright.

Fear, terror, and an anger he had never experienced, even in Azkaban, stimulated his body into drawing the Death Eater's life and magic. He did not care about death anymore.

Cadwallader let out a gargled sound as Harry absorbed his power, quicker than he had done with Bellatrix. He could feel the Death Eater's heart slowing as his magic filtered into his veins.

The Death Eaters were yelling, they were cursing, now realising what was happening. Spells danced over them, but they did not hit him. he was protected bacause a silvery blue shield, the one that could withstand the Killing Curse had appeared without thought.

Harry used the new magic to bolt the door shut, preventing the Death Eaters from leaving, and closed his eyes. He was going to destabilise them.

Yet, all Harry thought was more. He needed more of the power, just as Grindelwald wanted. Power was like an addiction. He couldn't stop.

A dark red, glittering sphere erupted around Harry, pulsing out, getting bigger with every second, Harry took most of Cadwallader's life source. He was invincible. He thirsted for more power. Every drop of it. He couldn't think, nor could he move his hands away.

"POTTER!" Bella screamed.

Harry felt the power. Strong and dangerous and unstable.

"LET GO!" his Mirror commanded.

He forced his fingers away. Cadwallader collapsed, shaking on the floor. He was too weak to move and was breathing raggedly.

"NOW, HARRY. TOUCH THE GROUND. DO IT NOW!"

Harry kicked the Death Eater away and touched the cold flagstone. Instinctively he willed the power of the castle to flood into his body. There was pain, an unearthly chill, and it was strangely heavy.

It was a restless energy. A thousand years of magic, Light and Dark, mingled in with his Mirror's power was fighting him and ready to explode and to rip him to shreds. He felt another thing, as though something was drawing a bit of the newfound power from him.

"Use it!"

Harry gasped, trembling, and clenched his fists. The bundle of emotions and power deep within him screamed. Harry let out his anger, his hurt. His vengeance. The red power buzzed to be released from every cell, every vein, and out of his soul.

Then he let it go. He felt it release like the twang of an elastic band. Pain shot through his entire body as the magic was expelled. His heart never felt so free… so alive.

Bellatrix shrieked in pain, the Death Eaters howled in fear as a cold red blast of angry magic rippled through chamber and through everyone within it and throughout the entire castle. The castle shook and even its air rippled. Doors splintered into pieces and people shrieked outside.

Then silence.

Harry collapsed, he could barely open his eyes and he didn't care anymore whether he lived or died.

"You did it! Now move."

His face was on the cold floor. It felt soothing. Harry wanted to lie there and sleep for a long time.

"MOVE!"

He forced himself up, trembling, every inch of him in agony. Cadwallader was dead and so were a few others. Harry took hold of the broken desk to witness the carnage his magic had done and then colapsed into blissful darkness.

James watched as a rumble occurred within the castle. A blast of hot wind ruffled their hair and robes, and the trees shook, not from the blast, but from something else, as though they felt the magic. Lily squeezed his hand tight.

"Look!" Gawain pointed. A dark red light trickled up from the foot of the castle, spreading out over the cold snowy earth to within metres of the forest, where it blossomed upwards, covering the entire castle perimeter in a sphere. As it did so, a dark blue halo surrounding the castle sparkled and fizzled out. The protective Dark magic his son had put up was being destroyed.

"Ready…" Gawain lifted one fist high above his head. "Hold… hold…"

As the defences died out at the top of the highest turret, a bright light engulfed the sky, giving off so much light it momentarily looked like it was day.

Gawain let off a spark of green. On the east side, a spark of red flared. On the west and south sides: blue and yellow.

"AURORS!"

James saw the front line emerge from the trees. Crouched low and in simultaneous motion, they thrust their wands at the castle, sending hundreds of explosive spells at it. Stone fell into the snow, and flames came to life.

Gawain turned. "APPARATE" he commanded as Death Eaters lined every window of the castle, at the battlements and turrets ready to fight back.

James squeezed Lily's hand. "Let's find our children," he whispered.

Harry woke up, staring at the ceiling with the dead or dying around him. This was all his doing. His expression changed to one of horror. He tried to stand, but felt his world swaying, and the urge to sleep had never been more powerful.

He found that Bellatrix was missing from the fallen group, but he didn't care.

Harry couldn't stand anymore. He fell into the corner and covered his eyes.

He felt his Mirror's presence again. "I'm out, I drew some of the castle's magic you absorbed to do it."

Harry's scar exploded in pain.

He found himself in a passageway. Light danced and bounced off the walls. Swirls of white and grey and black were everywhere and people were yelling. It was confusing and claustrophobic and Voldemort did not know where to focus first. It had never occurred to him they would plan this against him. But he had to check for himself. He had to check before seeing Harry.

Harry felt a brief wave of fear; Voldemort was scared of him and what he would find.

Voldemort eyed his catch ahead of him and stepped over the bodies of MacNair and Julien Roux. He used a spell to repel the charging ghosts around him. But Harry noticed in shock that the Dark Lord had not used wand magic. Could he be—? Had he been one for a long time?

"Severus, we meet again and this time I will kill you."

Snape cocked an eyebrow, and composed himself into a duelling position.

"I will enjoy bringing you down," Voldemort hissed.

"We shall see," he replied.

"And when I do, I will track down the love of your life and—"

Voldemort flicked Snape's hex away, letting it smash into the ceiling.

Snape backed away, his eyes wide as Voldemort laughed. "I've regained a lot of power back."

"I've noticed."

"After I take the other lives, I will be more powerful than Harry again. I will crush him. I will crush the Order."

"I think the Stitch has gone to your head, my Lord."

"POTTER, WAKE UP!" Someone was shaking him. Harry shivered, thinking it was Voldemort and his enforcement, but it was Yaxley. He slapped Harry hard.

He cringed as his scar singed with hot pain and Yaxley pulled him upright.

Malfoy was next to him. His forehead was cut, and his robes wet with blood. He looked terrible as he clutched his mid-region. Harry thought he might've had some broken ribs.

He knelt down, ripping off his cloak and placing it over Harry's shoulders. "Are you alright?"

Harry could only manage a nod. He shivered and he could feel his power tingling over his skin. He really wanted to sleep.

"Are you sure?"

"Fine, I'm fine," he implored. He just wanted to forget what had just happened. But he felt so tired, in pain, but mostly he was in shock. "Snape! Snape's in trouble—Voldemort's here—"

A green light lit up the room. Yaxley put the injured Death Eaters out of their misery.

"We've got to move," Yaxley growled.

Harry looked at him. He just couldn't handle being in the hands of Death Eaters, even a Malfoy.

"Look," Draco guessed, "I know I'm not your most favourite person in the world, but you have to trust me. I've helped you so far. And," he looked around before helping Harry up. "I'm the one who let the Pettigrew children free in the first place."

"You did?" he shivered, finally having enough energy to stand. "Ho-how did you get out of the passageway?"

"The Bloody Baron pushed me out when my aunt entered."

There was a pop to his side and Mirror Harry appeared, white as a ghost. Red welts covered his entire body and blood was trickling out of his eyes, ears and nose.

"What the hell happened to you?" Malfoy gasped as the Mirror wiped the blood away.

"Can't explain—got to run," he said coolly, as a cloud of dust fell on his head. "Bellatrix?" he asked looking around.

"She escaped." Harry croaked.

The Mirror scowled. "Well at least Cadwallader, Ebner Sr and Carrow are dead." He gently put a hand on Harry's shoulder, instantly repairing his torn clothes. "Good work."

Mirror Harry smiled lightly, but it was forced as they both tried to ignore what had happened in the chamber.

"Take him to safety," the Mirror commanded Yaxley. He looked around the chamber as the battle raged outside and walked out.

"WHERE'RE YOU GOING?" Harry yelled as Draco put his arm around him.

"To find them," he said. On cue, Harry's scar was hurting. "He knows he can't escape now—I've made sure of that"

"But he's in the passageway, duelling Snape," Draco said.

The Mirror stared at them darkly. "Not anymore."

"But Snape—"

"It's too late," he said adamantly.

"He's dead?" Harry gasped.

"I don't know, but the Dark Lord is on the move, and he's going to the Chamber of Secrets. He's luring me there."

"Well I'm coming with you then," Harry said quietly.

"To hell you are—"

"I am so fucking sick of trying to keep the two of you out of trouble," Draco spat.

Then the side of the chamber was blasted to pieces. They yelled as they were thrown to the other side of the room.

"We're in this together," Harry shouted. "Two Mages are better than one."

The Mirror jumped up with a sheet of sweat on his face now, his robes grey with dust. "Alright…"

Draco snarled back, giving both of them a look of frustration.

"Harry, don't blame me if you die." The Mirror smirked.

48. A Stitch in Time

A Stitch in Time

The hazy dungeon corridor was quickly filling with smoke and the cries of fallen Death Eaters.

"Come on," the Mirror growled.

Harry noticed the determination and the adrenalin showing on the boy's face. .

His thoughts were torn away when Draco clambered past them, searching for danger.

While their eyes stung and smoke filled their lungs, they stepped over huge chunks of stone. The Mirror navigated around the dead that had been crushed by masonry or killed by Harry's blast of magic. One was in agony; the lower half of his body was severed, and he was screaming for help.

"Merlin," whispered Draco. He was paling quickly.

"KILL ME!" the Death Eater cried, raising his bloodied hands at them.

Harry squinted in the smoke and saw Yaxley ahead, pointing his wand. Silently, he gave the wizard what he wished for.

"Sit here," the Mirror said, motioning Harry over.

He obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut as the green light from the Killing Curse was taking awhile to disappear from his vision.

"And keep watch. Whatever you do, don't use your magic—until I say so."

Harry agreed. He was still extremely exhausted anyway. The shock of it all was beginning to break through the adrenalin. He was shivering now, feeling both the effects of the castle's power and Cadwallader's own.

"Hey…" The Mirror bent down. There was blood still trickling down from his eyes, and it oddly reminded Harry of Voldemort. "Stay focused."

He breathed in deeply, nodding, but he couldn't handle meeting his Mirror's eyes. "I am," he replied adamantly. It wasn't easy, not with his mind still processing everything.

"You made them pay for everything."

"Bellatrix…?"

"I'll make her regret she was ever born."

Harry felt a sort of calmness and relief at his Mirror's words. "Help your friends," he said coarsely.

Harry tuned in to the sounds around him. Outside, spells were being cried out and people were running, while explosions rang through the air like a ripple of water. The smell of burning wood and flesh was beginning to overwhelm him, while the smoke billowing into their little haven of false safety was thickening.

Suddenly the small arched windows exploded and showered them in coloured glass.

"Hurry—check for survivors."

Harry watched on as they broke down doors to empty dark rooms, until Yaxley pulled back from one, with a dark expression.

"What is it?" Draco piped.

"A dozen dead Aurors. Their bodies are still fucking warm." Yaxley walked away, shoving a crimson note into the Mirror's hands. He stormed off to open another door.

Draco shook his head as he read the note over the Mirror's shoulder.

"What does it say?" asked Harry.

"A present for the Order," replied the Mirror, crumbling the note. Harry could sense the revulsion seeping out of the boy. "We'll get their wands later."

Draco looked through the keyhole of a door which wouldn't budge. "Emily, are you in there?"

"Yes," said a muffled voice. "The Conditioned all are."

Mirror Harry almost blew the door off its hinges, revealing the quiet people inside. He pulled Emily out roughly and the others followed, including Cho and Penelope, three older Hufflepuffs, four Ravenclaws Harry remembered from school, and even a couple of Slytherins from his year.

Snape's Conditioned had taken a battering. Draco grabbed her upper arms, pulling her forward. "Are you all right?" he brushed her brown hair from her face and she simply stared back, wiping the blood from her nose.

"They were just going to interrogate us when Bellatrix summoned them." She turned to Harry as he wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. "Your magic killed our guards—it seemed to only target Death Eaters."

"How much of the castle's defences did I destroy?" He peered out of a hole in the wall where he could see the wizards' feet twirling about. It was almost like a dark dance of death.

"Most of it," the Mirror answered. "I repaired a few wards when I escaped. We can only Apparate into the castle and within it. We can't Disapparate, and no one can walk out or use Portkeys—I made sure of it."

"But then the prisoners can't get out," Emily blurted.

"I can't risk Voldemort escaping," snapped the Mirror. Harry knew he had a point.

"Where did they take the prisoners?" Yaxley was walking up and down the corridor. All the doors had been opened, and not another soul came out.

Cho bit her lip. "They rounded them all up after Harry was put in the interrogation room and moved them."

"That's—that's not good," mumbled Draco. "Where would they take a few hundred people?"

"Well somewhere they'd be used as leverage, is my guess," interjected Yaxley. "Now that our master can't escape, he'll likely draw us in."

"To be more precise, he'll draw me in." Mirror Harry nodded. "I've also noticed magic that I can't easily erase. There is something preventing people entering into the main parts of the castle."

Harry yanked his mirror towards him, remembering a detail from his earlier vision. "Is he a Mage?"

The Mirror's brow furrowed, then realisation dawned on his face. "He must have—Shit!" he yelled.

"It would explain the amount of power he's got now, even though his soul is not yet fully healed." Feeling a little steadier, Harry walked alongside his Mirror. "He may have experimented after he lost his power, and only now is he beginning to feel its true effects."

Draco pinched the crook of his nose. "It wasn't so much as a rumour, but while you were in Azkaban, a Death Eater told Bellatrix and my father about a black aura surrounding the Dark Lord when he became angry. They were diligent to keep it quiet—even made the Pettigrew kids swear on it. They killed the gossipy Death Eater on the Dark Lord's order by poisoning his drink."

"He didn't seem keen on people finding out did he?" Emily remarked.

"Well, the children told me." Harry remembered. "Did you tell Dumbledore?"

"Yes I did."

"He would've forgotten what you said," the Mirror said. "But that sounds like the Dark phase, and keeping the information quiet would've given him a surprise manoeuvre. Interesting…"

No, it was not interesting to Harry, it was damn well frightening. "He's definitely not a natural born, I bet."

"Don't be so sure about that," said Mirror Harry, urging them to walk as a fireball erupted into the sky, brightening the castle around them. "We both share Peverell's bloodline, as a snarly goblin guard in Azkaban kept telling me," he said with a gruesome smile on his face.

A bright whizzing light spiralled their way, illuminating their tiny corner.

"GET DOWN!" the Mirror shouted.

An explosion rocked every inch of the castle and they could hear cries outside as more stonework and masonry collapsed. A tonne of dirt and rocks fell. Harry flung himself away from the debris smacking into Cho and Emily.

They stumbled upright with each other's help.

Harry stooped to see the carnage outside as the cold, blustery wind dispersed the smoke. He saw wizards succumbing to their injuries. Both sides weren't immune to war. Harry seemed momentarily mesmerised by the bursts of magic and intense fervour of the duels.

Was this what would happen in his war? Would he have to jump over the dead to find Voldemort? The questions circled his mind, gathering speed. This would be his test run, and he would learn from it.

Harry looked up and saw two German Aurors try to enter the castle, only to fall screaming as their skin turned inside out.

"What the—POTTER!" Draco yelled into his ear. "MOVE!" Harry was dragged away.

"Severus. Severus… WAKE UP!"

Somebody was shaking his shoulders, but he could not open his eyes. The blissful blackness held him back. He heard other sounds: splashes of spells, screams, and the commands of ghosts.

Severus opened his eyes wide. He tried to sit up, but a hand held him down.

"Don't move," replied Edric Ibbott.

"Are we dead?"

Edric laughed scratchily. "Not yet."

His hands were on Severus's chest. And he could feel something wet and warm against his skin. Severus looked down and realised he was swimming in his own blood.

He remembered a short duel with his master, and being struck, before the ghosts banded together and prevented Voldemort from casting the final blow.

"I need to get you out—I've tried to staunch the blood, but whatever curse our master has put on you, it's deterring Healing spells."

"My spell. He used my spell." Severus relaxed, staring at the dark ceiling of the passageway. Sir Nick was staring down at him with the Fat Friar by his side.

He was going to die.

"What's that incantation you use to treat the spell?' Edric questioned.

Severus opened his eyes again, feeling sleepier.

"STAY AWAKE!"

"Page 54…"

"What?"

"The book—in my robes," Severus sighed. He had always hidden his old text book in his classroom. And when Hogwarts closed, decided to keep it on him at all times. It was a small reminder of the old days: the good and the bad and a constant reminder that Hogwarts would never be the same again.

Edric rummaged through the pockets until he found it, stained with blood with pages almost ripped in half and smouldering around the edges. He roughly flicked through the pages. "Right—Friar hold the book open." He waved his wand in circles. "I'm not good at Healing—"

"No you're not," smiled Severus sleepily. "But you're good at inflicting harm…"

"You have an excellent way of buttering up people who are about to help you," Ibbott snarled.

Severus chuckled weakly. "Get on with it. we have a fight to be part of."

He closed his eyes, and after a hesitation by Voldemort's ex Chief Interrogator, heard the wizard sing the incantation. Around them the ghosts continued to fight as a new influx of senior Death Eaters tried to escape.

"JAMES!" Lily yelped. She lost her husband in the scrum that was pushing the hordes of Aurors and Order members towards the castle. They had Apparated quickly, but the Death Eaters were waiting behind every window and battlement, and struck down many before they even had the chance to move.

"JAMES!"

Spells crisscrossed through the air, sparks flew and Dark Marks blazoned the sky like a grim fireworks display. She saw smoke and bodies flying. She heard the screams and the determined words of magic. Everywhere she could feel the sweat and blood splattering onto her face and the cold seeping into her clothes.

"Here! Over here." He yelled, waving his arm into the air. He was sitting behind the flaming remains of Hagrid's hut with Bladak and Bill. Lily saw him, but so did a few enemies. James protected himself best he could with a timely Protection Charm as spells whizzed at him, and hid behind the body of a centaur.

Lily screamed when hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her in her husband's direction.

"It's just me," replied Kingsley into her ear. "I'll watch your back."

But a circle of Death Eaters appeared in front of them. As people realised they needed help, they threw curses, but the Death Eaters seemed to repel the magic.

"What the," James and Bill yelled.

Lily gasped. Her heart was pounding furiously. "Oh my god." They were trapped. They were going to die before they even had the chance to enter the castle.

But Bladak rose up, clapped his hands and a cold blast of silver magic threw the Death Eaters off their feet. "No need to thank me."

"James," Lily ran into his embrace. His face was wet with blood.

"We need to get as close as possible to the castle—"

"We can't enter it—there's a curse," Kingsley snapped, holding a gold galleon firmly in his hand. Aurors appeared next to him. "Report."

"Sir, they've blocked the entrances and they're hitting us with all the manpower they've got from strategic points. We're sitting ducks!"

"Cordukes, order the dragon handler to get the dragons flying up there. Burn them. And get as many men possible on broomsticks," Kingsley ordered. The fair haired Auror disappeared, but the rest stayed behind. "All of you, cover us."

"I don't need your cover," Bladak grunted. He ran through the fighting wizards and Lily lost sight of him.

James gripped her arm. "I'm Apparating us to a closer point."

Yaxley and Draco erected a temporary shield, drowning out the noise outside and

when they felt it was safe gain, hid in a storeroom where once it would've held Snape's stores. Now looking around, the shelves were empty.

"Where to now?" asked Penelope. "We don't know where our wands are kept—and everyone elses's."

"The wands are usually kept in a store room one floor above," answered Yaxley. He handed the Conditioned the wands he had stolen from the dead wizards. "There'll be thousands there."

"If we find the prisoners how will we get them out to safety? Most are not fit enough to fight," Emily pondered out loud. The others murmured in agreement.

"No way is safe—I didn't plan for this."

"What about the Room of Requirement—we can do side-along Apparition? Then we can Apparate back in to fight again. Or if we risk the passageways, the ghosts will let us escape."

"We can't risk it and Peeves may have booby-trapped the Room of—PEEVES!"

There was a sudden invisible whooshing sound on the floor. Harry jumped back to see a black, undulating smoke filtering under the door. It rapidly spread across of the arched ceiling.

"A-yeeesssssss?" His orange eyes appeared.

"Is the Room of Requirement safe?"

"Of course not, Potty—"

"Well make it safe!" clipped the boy. "But leave a little bit of yourself here to follow us."

The black smoke pulled back a little, and a chuckle emerged. "Do you want me to make it safe for Death Eaters trapped within the room?"

"Kill only the Death Eaters."

"And then what? I'm feeling rather itchy to be naughty."

"Where's Voldemort? Is Snape alive?"

"Dun know, dun know… Snapey is hanging on by a thread."

The black smoke was now skimming around their legs.

"Shall I chase the snake?" Peeves hissed.

"Snake—?"

The Mirror seemed shocked. "He let it loose?"

"The basilisk?" Draco spluttered. "Well…" he laughed humourlessly, "that just takes the biscuit!"

The Mirror ignored him. "Where are the prisoners?"

"Floating…"

"What?"

The poltergeist laughed and his body materialised in full. He hung upside down with the smoke waving around him. "Floating, floating. FLOATING!"

"Do not test me, Peeves," the Mirror said with a soft, dangerous tone. "After you help the prisoners, create some hell for Voldemort."

More windows were broken. Harry could hear the crashing glass, and the howls of pain from irreversible injuries. There was a sudden loud sound reverberating upstairs. It sounded like they were trying to break down doors.

"Your wish is my command." Peeves bowed. The smoke retreated from the ceiling and vanished the same way it had come.

"Good," the Mirror said. "First thing we need to do is get your wands—here, Harry," he added, pulling out a battered wand from his pocket. "I found yours in the office."

Harry took it, instantly feeling warmth in his fingertips. "Thank you." He felt oddly protected with it in his hand. The Mirror looked at him strangely before leaving the room.

"Secondly, we need to find the prisoners—any news, Draco?" he asked, "If Peeves says they're floating somewhere, we need to get them out fast."

Their coins burned. Draco looked at the galleon in his hands. "Snape's out. He's still alive. The ghosts are holding strong."

"Tell Ibbott to hide near the Room of Requirement, he'll be allowed into the room with the others. Everyone follow me."

"He's actually coming to us."

"What's happening outside?" asked Emily, as they carefully exited the storeroom in twos.

Draco stared attentively at the coin and they watched it glow. "Blaise said there's a spell preventing anyone who isn't a Death Eater from getting through."

"Yeah, I think we just witnessed it with those poor Aurors," Penelope said in disgust.

Draco was about to reply when something growled outside.

"RETREAT!' Yaxley called out.

Before Harry understood what had happened, he a saw a hand the size of a car plunge in through the shattered wall.

They screamed and jumped out of the way as the giant growled and grew angry as spells failed to penetrate its thick hide. Yet, with its arm almost fully submerged and pulling away the stone, it continued searching the corridor with one large eye peering through with a hunger to snatch a body. Emily tripped and the hand almost grabbed her.

"Conjunctivis," Draco and Cho yelled. The red hex shot out and hit its target.

The giant withdrew with a howl of agony and was pounced on by no less than a dozen wizards, including Hagrid. Harry saw centaurs galloping by shooting arrows. One of the arrows was halfway through the hole before it was incinerated into ash.

"UPSTAIRS!" The Mirror yelled, leading them on.

But when they reached the landing, they were ambushed from the darkness.

"ARGHHHHHHH!" They sprinted out of the area with their hands over their heads. As spells suddenly flew at them from behind, Harry backed himself against the wall and squinted at the closed classrooms around them.

Then he heard his name being called. "Immobilise the Death Eaters ahead," Yaxley bellowed. Harry lifted his hand, but his Mirror stopped him.

"Wait, you need time for your magic to settle." He thrust his hands out and three Death Eaters were thrown to the ground, writhing.

Cho struck one with the Killing Curse, while Emily slashed one across the eyes. Draco was smacked onto the ground and the Mirror protected him.

Harry was itching to help. Perhaps, with the aid of a wand, it would help focus his magic. He aimed it at one, but it was too late because an arching red fire punched them in their stomachs, smashing them all against the wall. They were suddenly stuck to the walls and could not move.

"Where do you think you're all going?" a Death Eater shouted through the chaos, "Joining your little friends in the fight? You'll be dead before you can."

"Shut your mouth, Dreadford!" Draco hissed, frazzled, his blonde hair in disarray.

Olive Dreadford was leading the pack in front of them, still alive. She looked extremely pale now, the tattoos standing out even more, and blood was pouring from the back of her head. Right behind her, Death Eaters carried an unconscious Cho and Penelope.

Everyone could not detach themselves from the wall as the Death Eaters closed in as the bedlam continued above them.

"Quite a display you traitors put up in our escape passages. But you little shits aren't going to get far either, not while I have your precious Mudloving cunts."

Harry focus was not on his Mirror and Dreadford. He watched Malfoy nod at Emily, slyly pointing with his one moving finger to an oak door labelled 'stores'. The wands were in there.

"We need a distraction. Talk," Harry commanded.

"Listen Olive," the Mirror began. "I saw a little girl, about eleven, with dark hair"

From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw the smoke, signalling Peeves's return. The smoke hid in the darkness so it was not recognisable. For added effect, the sconces were extinguished and the only light they got was from the myriad of coloured spells flashing in from the battlefield.

"She had a birthmark on her right temple."

Olive Dreadford's eyes widened. "Where's my sister? What have you done with the girl?"

"Annabel... She looks like you, when you were still a pretty girl." The Mirror cocked his head. "What fucked you up, Olive? Was it Julien and Vera Roux? Perhaps something else… Or was it the voices in your head? I can hear them now."

"GET OUT!" She shook her head, shaking her wand in his face. "Get out of my head, Potter!"

"Maybe not your Mentors… that was the only way you could escape your family and," the Mirror laughed, "you willingly submitted. So it was partly the voices—partly what that Muggle boy's betrayal—partly your family."

"I'm warning you, Potter—" she snapped, sparks flying out of her wand.

"Your parents disowned you. You thought you were in love with that Muggle, but you came back to them when he—"

"—STOP PLAYING GAMES—!"

"—But going back wasn't enough. So they locked you in the attic for years, all alone and in the dark."

Olive was now inches from his face, snarling.

Harry looked down and saw the thin slithers of smoke wrapping around the Death Eaters legs. He could feel it around his own legs, cold and unusual.

"Then my family bowed to the Dark Lord." She grinned, making her tattoo more hideous.

"You were one of the first to be successfully conditioned by Julien and Vera—maybe because you were way older than what they usually go for—"

"And so were you." She licked her lips.

A twitch appeared on the Mirror's cheek. "I remember you couldn't handle the dark during my very first day of conditioning. You had to escape."

"Oh boo hoo to me," Olive chuckled.

But the Mirror continued. "That Muggle boy's the first name you had tattooed—right over your heart."

Olive curled her lips and moved a few steps away from the Mirror. "So, Potter, why this trip down memory lane? Do you think I care?" She shrilled. "Where's Annabel?"

Harry watched on in silence, but his mind was opening up.

In the darkness he was running through smoke, disappointed he could not escape. He could not undo the boy's magic, so in defence, he had made his own. And if the enemy made it through, they would falter. The Horcruxes were in his robes and the stitch safely in its leather.

"Bella, Barty, Vera, Priscott, Nott. Go into the Chamber. Wait there. The rest follow me."

"But my Lord, the Great Hall—"

"Is covered. I will make them know that I am to be feared."

Harry's eyes rolled back, and he found himself being stared at by a worried Emily and Draco. His heart was beating so fast. "The Great Hall—Voldemort's going to do something—" he mouthed.

Harry looked down at the smoke around his feet. "Peeves," he whispered. "Peeves!"

The smoke lifted a little.

"Go to the Great Hall. The Room of Requirement can wait." Some of the smoke retreated, but enough was left behind to worry about the Death Eaters in front of them.

Draco whispered. "Is there anyway you can remove Voldemort's magic?"

"That isn't easy, it would take time." Harry wasn't sure he had the strength at the moment with the volatility of his magic, but he could try.

"You removed Harry's—"

"That's different. We're Mirrors. My magic is his and vice versa. Everything about us is the same."

He remembered reading that natural Mages can remove another's imprint, but it takes awhile, and a lot of power and concentration. However removing a Dark Arts Mage's imprint was much more difficult and Harry wasn't sure what sort Voldemort was.

"You're also a Horcrux."

"Draco, I am not connecting with Voldemort's soul to do this." He closed his eyes, and it was then his Mirror came through with one word.

"Wait."

As they watched, the Mirror's stance changed. A smirk played on his lips. The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up and he thought, perhaps, his Mirror was now more like the boy he remembered from the cave. More like Voldemort.

"Your father gave her up." He said this with a hint of amusement. "She's dead."

The way he said the word dead was too callous, thought Harry. It's not him.

"She's…" There was a moment of shock on Olive's ugly face, but that was quickly replaced with a stone cold expression.

"I saw her body. You didn't know, did you?"

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his Mirror and the castle. He could feel a foreign magic, deep purple in hue, surrounding the castle walls and the interior. But first, Harry focused on four spots outside. He saw his Mirror piercing them open as he spoke to Olive. He felt a surge of magic and Voldemort's magic giving way. But the magic in the castle was strengthening in parts, except the Great Hall where it weakened and vanished. But Voldemort knew and was fighting back.

But his Mirror had done the damage. It worked. They heard the wizards outside yelling in victory and the great entrance door being torn down.

"Something is wrong. That was too easy," Mirror Harry remarked.

Olive shifted her weight. "She was useless. Annabel never had the guts to learn our ways. She was weak—a pitiful excuse for a pureblood." She moved forwards, her shoulders hunched as she trained her wand on the Mirror.

The Mirror sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering as he focused solely on her now. "Don't you want to know what was done to her?"

"Whatever my master did, it was for a reason, and my family will be rewarded—you fucking idiot, do you think you could throw me off?"

The Mirror smirked. "Just making sure you're still a crazy bitch."

And right on cue, the Death Eaters were tripped by Peeves's magic, as through someone had pulled the rug from beneath their feet.

But Dreadford was quick, and highly trained. Before she was thrown to the ground, she flicked her wand with deadly effect. They ducked as daggers and sharp implements were thrown at them.

The Mirror ripped himself off the wall as the weapons were plunged his way.

"INSIDE. INSIDE!" Kingsley roared at the Order, goblins and others.

James and Lily had gotten as close as possible to the castle without dying and followed the Auror.

"Kingsley," Commander Larue called.

They turned around to see the French Commander shaking her head. He waved at her silently and motioned a circle above his head, which she agreed to.

Then hundreds of Aurors did not enter the castle, but instead they were ordered to circle the exterior of the castle in stealth. Disillusionment Charms slithered over their bodies. That was the last Lily saw of them, as the few remaining Death Eaters on the battlements continued to bombard them with curses.

After a quick diagnostics check, their magic failed to discover an invisible barrier preventing them from going up the main stairs. They found out rather grimly when an Auror, goblins and a Grindelwald supporter tried to run through it, only to be turned inside out on contact. They died screaming, their blood pumping out onto the floor.

But everywhere else was shrouded in darkness and a silence that dripped of foreboding.

"Great Hall is safe."

Strangely the cursed barrier was not around the entrance to the Great Hall. However, upon entering the hall, what they saw on arrival changed their tact. In the middle of the hall were three hundred Death Eaters. Two lines deep of the outer circle had their wands pointed towards the entering horde.

The high windows were broken and people were climbing through. Goblins were entering though one of the chambers with the help of Grindelwald's men. All four corners were filling up with the infiltrating Order, Aurors and goblins.

Lily gasped. She noticed the grim inner circle of Death Eaters and what they were aiming at on the ceiling.

The magnificent ceiling of the Great Hall would've sparkled with the outside view of the sky, and thousands of floating candles. Now the magic was long gone.

Now Kingsley outstretched his arms, his eyes wide. "Do not attack," he said over his shoulder. The European Auror commanders and Grindelwald repeated the same to their groups.

Lily squeezed James's hand staring at the ceiling filled with the floating injured and prisoners. The wizards and witches captured via the Floo network hung upside down, unconscious, their robes and hair floating upwards as though they were in water.

"I can't find Voldemort."

"It's a trap!" whispered Tonks, her hair turning a mousey brown.

"My-my-my wife—she's up there."

Lily heard people talking. She could feel the panic rising around her. People were stirring, lost as to what they should do. And from the corner of her eye she saw Derwent holding Imogen's arm with a vice grip.

Then a Death Eater's voice boomed through the hall. "One step forward and your loved ones will fry," he enunciated. "Leave. Go home and they will survive. The Dark Lord will spare them if you submit to him."

"To hell we will!" roared Bladak. Others yelled their approval, but many, particularly those starting at their loved ones hanging on the ceiling about to be slaughtered, stood silent.

Emily yelled as she hit the ground, covering her head as a Death Eater threw a hex at her. Harry smacked the ground as his Mirror plucked one of the daggers. He swivelled around, elbowing Dreadford hard in the face as Death Eaters fired at him.

Peeves's magic entered the Death Eaters mouths, making them scream and writhe in agony. He left one untouched, and that was Dreadford herself.

"POTTER!" Snape yelled, above Peeves's chuckles and Dreadford's insane cries.

Harry squinted through the myriad of blinding lights and blackness with no sense of direction; he didn't know where the hell his Mirror was now as the smoke obscured their vision. The spells were hitting a shield; he knew by the deep metallic sound it made that it was either deflecting or absorbing several Killing Curses.

"THERE'S MORE! MORE HAVE ARRIVED," Ibbott roared. One of the Death Eaters must have called for help.

Then suddenly they were all duelling Death Eaters around them. Cho and Penelope tore through their restraints and were fighting back. Emily threw a dagger at a Death Eater and it struck him in the neck. Draco kicked one with his boot and killed him quickly.

It was Snape and Ibbott who were fighting magnificently. With their years of experience and knowledge, they were quicker than the Conditioned, with one curse they were able to wipe out three.

After a deafening minute of grunts, pain and Latin words, someone who sounded like Snape ordered for them to stop. "IT'S OVER!"

As the smoke settled, Harry heard people gasping. Cho was now unconscious, and two of the Conditioned were dead.

He looked up and saw his Mirror straddling Olive Dreadford's body. She was long dead, and the Death Eaters around her struck unconscious or dying. But the Mirror, now covered in blood, continued stabbing her.

"Shit!" Draco rubbed his chin in thought.

Snape slowly approached him, his black robes slashed and slick with blood. He looked weak and deathly pale. "Potter… Potter, she's dead." He placed a steady hand on his shoulder, his other aiming his wand into the boy's face.

"LEAVE ME!" the Mirror screamed. The bloodied dagger was shaking in his fist. The dark red aura of mage magic seeped from him, perking up Harry's interest for a moment.

"We need to move on."

"She fucking deserved it!"

"I'm not going to argue about that," Snape replied coolly. "However, she's more than gone now."

After everything the Mirror had endured, this was his revenge. Harry couldn't blame him as he stared into the distraught pain on his face. What the thirteen Death Eaters had done, had destroyed him. Even though he had put up a façade and had forced himself to act strong, bold and a complete ass at times, there was a vulnerability that showed now. It was naked and red raw and he couldn't hide it anymore.

"Potter," Ibbott said quietly. He looked slightly unsettled, gazing at the witch's body. "Let the knife go."

The Mirror stared into his bloodied hands and left the dagger in Dreadford's chest. Covered in blood, he stood up. Everyone gave him a wide berth. "Conditioned restrain any of the Death Eaters alive and chuck them into a classroom."

"We'll come back when we have time to take prisoners. We're moving on to the Great Hall, Potter. I think that's where most of the action will be," Snape concluded.

"They've fallen into a trap." The Mirror looked at the ceiling, breathing deeply. "He'll have them surrounded. It'll be a blood bath. " He bowed his head and laughed. "I fell right into it. He knew I'd let them through and he intentionally weakened the magic."

Suddenly, there was a series of petrified screams coming from the great Hall.

"Can you undo Voldemort's magic everywhere?" Harry asked.

"Too late…" The boy shook his head. "Too late. He's closed them into the Great Hall now. " He looked so tired. The weight of the world was crushing him. "There are Death Eaters everywhere and they'll ambush the Order from within."

"Not quite," piped Penelope, pointing out of the broken window. "There are hundreds of Aurors still outside."

"We need to be quick, Voldemort's heading there," Harry said, watching his Mirror contemplate going to the Great Hall like they all did.

Ibbott summoned the wands out of the storeroom, though it was then the Mirror Disapparated. "POTTER," Ibbott yelled angrily. "DAMN IT—!"

A moment later, they heard a strange echoing cackle and the ceiling collapsed. Dozens of Death Eaters rained down around them, covered in black smoke. Harry and the others jumped out of the way as the bright light and dust from the Great Hall swam above them. And there was a cold laughter amongst the screams.

Yaxley, Ibbott, Snape, Draco and the Conditioned simultaneously flicked their wands, killing the Death Eaters before they had a chance to realise they were surrounded. Without a backward glance, Harry climbed over the bodies, into the light streaming out of the hall.

James backed Lily behind him as the floor gave way and the Death Eaters in the centre of the inner circle fell through. It did not stop some from blindly hurling spells at the prisoners. Some hit their targets and James had to turn away as the bodies crashed to the floor. The screams from loved ones around the Great Hall pierced through him.

The outer circle of Death Eaters began attacking them.

James threw some choice spells and Lily charmed a few of the knights of armour shields their way to deflect curses. "Good thinking," he said.

"LOOK!" an old witch pointed.

The smoke rose and spiralled, covering the prisoners. It twinkled orange in some parts. Everyone was mesmerised, and when the smoke disappeared, the prisoners were gone.

"Where did they go?"

But they heard the cold laughter in their ears. Voldemort was not with them, but it felt like he was there.

"You cannot beat me. You are all surrounded. Give up and you may survive."

James could feel Lily's rapid pulse in his fingers. It felt horrible, but deep down he did not care for these people. He needed to find a way to his children.

Grindelwald emerged from the group against the wall, his hands outstretched as he surveyed the empty ceiling. "We are ready to fight, Tom. Why don't you show your snake face and we can see how fearsome you really are."

"Your words are nothing, Gellert. This is my domain."

"Your domain is weak. Your army is weak. Otherwise how did I get so far? Half my army were once Death Eaters," he chortled.

"Yes, you are nothing but a thief."

"Show yourself, Tom… or are you a coward?" Gellert loudly proclaimed. He walked around, waiting. "Being a coward does not raise the morale of your army, seeing as they are dying for you."

Kingsley nudged James, and from the corner of his eye he saw the Conditioned and his Mirror son climbing up the hole in the floor.

Lily sighed in relief. "Thank God, he's alright."

There was a crack at the other end of the hall, and Harry Apparated within, smiling dangerously, covered in blood. This time, James and Lily held their breath.

The boy crouched down, fingers lightly touching the floor. "Where are you?"

"Everywhere, Harry."

And suddenly, they could not breathe, James clutched his throat. All air seemed to have been sucked out of the room. The pain he experienced seeing Lily struggling for air tore at his being.

Wizards fell around them like flies, and Death Eaters walked through the Great Hall's walls like they were made of butter. Stoically, with their silver masks glowing ominously, they marched forwards, wiping out as many of the choking Aurors and Order as they could possibly get to.

Goblins and the other beings involved were the only ones able to remove the curse. Some of them stood up and began duelling.

Was this how he was going to die? James refused to believe it as he covered Lily with his body. She shook her head, but no, he was determined that she would live.

Harry whirled around, striking the marching Death Eaters. Grindelwald laughed and pounced on a few, moving nothing but a hand.

"Harry, come join me—together we will beat him."

"Nice try, Gellert, but I don't think you'd want that."

"Why, my dear boy?"

"Dumbledore—"

His words were cut short when Voldemort appeared, with a few of his inner circle around him like an armoured guard. And the choking spell around the Great Hall was vanquished. A collective gasp for air resounded in the hall. Lily coughed and James helped her up.

Grindelwald struck the guard with a long red lash of a spell. But it did not penetrate the circle. "Fight Tom, show us how scary you truly are."

Their son simply crouched down on the floor once more.

Lily shook her head as she massaged her neck. "What is he doing?"

"Letting Grindelwald and Voldemort fight."

"He's waiting," said Hermione, pulling Ron along next to James. There was a series of pops behind them. Mirror Harry, the Conditioned and the others arrived. Harry grabbed Hermione's arm.

"Hermione, we have to go—"

"Where?" she said.

"Chamber of Secrets—Harry's removed the magic inside the castle, it's safe to move."

"You are not going anywhere without us!" Lily snipped, staring at them.

Grindelwald threw a large fireball, and the guard was drenched in flames. Voldemort attacked with a timely Killing Curse forcing Grindelwald to spin out of the way. The curse hit an Order member in the face.

"Attack!" yelled Kingsley hoarsely.

Around the hall wizards and witches on both sides were duelling, leaving nothing but a wide berth in the middle where the Dark Lords were fighting.

Grindelwald slashed his wand, scorching Voldemort's cloak.

Back and forth the wizards threw spells with such intensity that the ground was beginning to heat up, and yet, the Mirror simply watched on.

"Harry," James called out as bodies fell around them.

He saw Derwent fall to his side, and Imogen standing over his body with her wand smoking. Deep down he knew she had killed him and he didn't care.

"HARRY," he yelled again.

To his other side he saw Blaise Zabini succumb with a few of the Conditioned, and Order members were dying. Goblins were mutilated and centaurs were rearing as spells hid their hides. Two small horntails had found their way inside, flying through, their flames causing havoc.

"HARRY!"

His son simply looked up. There was a sort of sadness in his expression and it worried James. "Do something!" his son shook his head slowly as Voldemort had the last word, knocking Grindelwald off his feet, the floor splattering with blood.

Voldemort pointed his wand at his son, and something white wrapped around him.

"NO—HARRY!" Lily and Hermione screamed. As the white smoke cleared, Voldemort and Harry were gone, leaving none but Death Eaters fighting and Grindelwald being ambushed. But the old wizard was powerful and the Death Eaters flew into the air.

"GO!" Their Mirror son gripped their arms, dashing forward, with Draco and Emily clearing the way. Ron and Hermione were already sprinting up the crumbling staircase with Yaxley and Snape disappearing around the corner.

They ran as fast as they could. James was thinking about nothing but his children.

They followed Harry to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. There was an eerie silence around them, and the darkness was thick with cold.

Ron was huffing and puffing. "I have a bad feeling about this—"

"No shit, Weasley," Draco said with a clenched jaw. Harry was near the bathroom door, where Snape and Yaxley stood.

"Where's Ibbott?" Harry asked.

"He went around the corner checking for the enemy—we heard him yelling out basilisk and nothing more."

"Dead," Yaxley replied thickly in his Scottish accent.

"Oh my," Hermione quibbled, covering her mouth. "We have to get in fast before it knows we're here."

"We've tried opening the door with spells and implements, nothing worked." Snape said. "We even tried to break it down."

Then Yaxley smiled grimly. "I drew the short straw… here goes nothing." He touched the door

The curse on the door propelled him backwards. Lily was screaming his name, but all James could see was his hand was smouldering black and red. The Death Eater was trembling.

"FERGUS!" Snape fell by his side.

Yaxley seemed to have snapped himself out of the fuzziness and just stared. "I can't move a fucking finger!"

Snape bent low and examined the injury. It's a bad curse, Yaxley. We need to get out of here to halt its progression."

"And if I don't?"

"You'll die eventually."

The Death Eater laughed as James turned around to look at the innocent looking girl's bathroom.

"Sorry, but I think I've been through too much shit to die like this."

"Snape take him to safety—and you look like you need some help too." James pointed out.

The sallow-faced git scowled, and locked eyes with Lily.

"Don't worry about me," she said quietly.

"I'm not just worried about you," he replied, flicking back his robes to help Yaxley. "I'll be back."

James wished he wouldn't as the Death Eaters Disapparated.

"Pity Moaning Myrtle couldn't tell us what the fuck that was," James blurted.

Harry walked forward. "I can hear the snake. It's hiding around the corner. I'm going to try and subdue it."

"That's insane!"

"I think we are beyond rational thought. Besides, I've had experience dealing with it."

"He's right," said Hermione. "I bet the moment we figure out a way to open the door it will attack."

Emily waved at them. "Back yourselves against the wall and close your eyes. "Whatever happens, don't look into its eyes."

James watched his son slowly approach the snake with half closed eyes. But whatever words they spoke in Parseltongue, it did not obey them.

"Why isn't it working?

"Maybe it knows your true allegiance?" Draco yelled back.

"Oh no…" Harry said. "RUN!"

The boy bolted their way and the snake followed at great speed, hissing at him. It's tail reared over its head, smashing down next to them, making them run in every direction.

"OH SHIT!" Ron yelled.

"Don't do anything stupid—hide," Harry snapped. His eyes were half-trained on the floor.

The basilisk dispersed them. James was breathing heavily now, he needed to get to Lily before it did.

But Lily was still cowering on the ground near the bathroom with Hermione.

Emily and Draco were near a tapestry, their cloaks covering their faces.

The basilisk seemed to make a beeline for Lily and Hermione and they screamed.

"Oi, ugly! Over here!" Ron said, waving his hands with half closed eyes, standing in the middle of the corridor. The snake hissed, turning around its head, but did not leave Lily and Hermione alone. Emily began clapping behind him.

Instead the snake's tail swung their way knocking Ron off his feet.

"OHHHH SHIIITTTTT!"

The tail smashed against the column next to him and it collapsed, pinning him to the ground while a shard of stone smacked Emily on her head. Draco bravely jumped out and pulled Emily away from any more danger.

Harry and James slashed at its scales with the Reducto Curse. The gigantic basilisk hissed and slithered their way, suddenly forgetting about Lily and Hermione.

"DON"T LOOK INTO ITS EYES," Harry bellowed. He shoved James out of the way and he had enough space to run to Lily. Harry dodged the basilisk's coils and snapping fangs and made it to Ron's side.

"Move," James said, pushing the girls behind a dark alcove where a suit of armour stood. They were now blocked by the snake's slithering body.

They could hear the red-head cursing and praying under his breath as the snake's tongue flicked over his face.

Squinting, James watched Hermione who had cleverly taken out a pocket mirror to see where the basilisk was and put her next to Lily.

She then shrilled in protest. "Harry, look left and run for it. It'll give us time to help Ron."

Harry did as he was told, and the basilisk followed him.

With a few swish and flicks, they all worked together to raise the column off Ron's midriff. Blood spurted from his mouth and he coughed. Hermione wanted to move, but Lily held her by the shoulders.

"James, let me go out there and stabilise his injuries," Lily suggested.

"Are you mad?" he hissed, sounding almost like the basilisk.

Emily staggered onto her feet and whistled. She pirouetted on the spot, as the basilisk chased Harry. It hissed and lunged at her, but she Apparated next to Draco.

When the snake's head turned, Harry threw a red ball of magic. It struck the snake's red plume on its head, setting it alight.

The basilisk shook his head, hissing angrily, raising its green coils, twisting and unfurling fluidly. Then they heard his high cold hisses of Parseltongue. "DAMN IT, LISTEN TO ME!" he roared. "I'm TOM RIDDLE!"

James was in shock. "Is he-is he really invoking the Horcrux?"

Lily covered her mouth. "Harry don't!"

But the boy ignored them, speaking Parseltongue and urging the snake away from them.

James held his breath as the basilisk reared back and Harry opened his eyes fully staring into its eyes. The Basilisk cocked its head left and right and its tongue flicked over the boy several times before it bowed its head.

Harry moved backwards. He alone seemed immuned to the snake's eyes. James wasn't sure if this was because he was a Mage or because the snake lowered its defences around him.

"Harry," Emily said gently, not daring to raise her voice. The snake seemed partly tranced. "Where are you taking it?"

Harry disappeared around the bend, and the creature followed. Moments later, there was a piercing hiss and screech which made the hair on James's neck stand on end. There was a tremble as the snake thrashed around, before it stood still.

"HARRY" Emily yelled. But he emerged a few moments later covered in sticky blood and walked over to them.

"Its dead—pierced its eyes out." He also held a fang in his hand and he threw it at Hermione. "Keep it in case. Apparently Basilisk venom can kill Horcruxes."

They heard a gasp and a wispy white ghost floated through the floor. She was the only one not fighting with the other ghosts.

"Oh, you're all in a bit of a pickle," Moaning Myrtle said in both interest and shock.

"SHUT UP, MYRTLE!" Ron blasted as Lily helped him up. He coughed, clutching his middle and groaned.

"Hmmph," Myrtle grunted in indignation.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?"

The ghost stared haughtily and placed her hands on her hips. "I was keeping watch for the ghosts. Oh, and if you die Ronald, don't dwell in my bathroom." She scrunched up her nose. "I don't like you much."

Ron gaped. "I'd rather die a hundred times over then share a room with you!"

"Oh Harry," she shrilled, ignoring Ron's retort. "Only Mages can open the door."

Harry strolled over and sure enough he was able to touch the handle without any disfiguring curse.

They all entered and looked down into the giant hole where a cistern usually was. He paced it in silence. "I'll go in."

"Wait a second," Lily spat. "We are going in blindly. How do we know this isn't a trap?"

Harry looked up, his green eyes bright and lingering. "He wants me down there. You are all collateral to him. But it's the only way we can end him and get the others out."

"A few of the seniors will be down there," James said.

"Correct," Harry nodded. "Stay up here. It's what Harry would want—"

Lily's cheeks reddened. "I will not let you go down there on your own, Harry! It's suicide."

Draco looked away and laughed loudly.

"IT'S NOT A JOKE!" she shouted.

But he looked back at her, a frown on his lips. "No, its not. This whole thing has been a hysterical fucked up joke. Go Harry. You can't stop us having a death wish."

Harry jumped into the hole before Lily could respond.

Draco went through next with Emily.

Hermione looked torn. James knew the girl wanted to stay with Ron as well as go down into the chamber.

"Make your choice, Hermione. Lily stay with him—"

"No," she replied defiantly. "We are going to do this together, James."

Hermione bit her lip, as Ron paled even more in front of her. "Go with them, Hermione," he moaned. "Honestly, I'll be alright." He held a galleon in his hand.

A moment later the Patil twins showed up.

"Harry?" gasped Parvati.

"Down there."

Padma Disapparated with Ron to the Room of Requirement, but Parvati stayed behind, covering her mouth as though she was about to be sick. She stared into the big hole and sighed, before rolling up her sleeves. Parvati grabbed Hermione's hand. "I've never been that great with heights."

"On three," Hermione said. They jumped in together, their screams echoing through.

James and Lily were the last. They faced each other and jumped through the hole.

The chamber was small and round, but cavernous. Harry looked up to see pitch blackness, waiting for James and Lily to slide down. The others were hiding within the darkness, waiting.

The sound of water was dripping on to the floor. Skeletons of rats and a few human skulls littered here and there. Stone snakes entwined the columns around them and Harry almost forgot what it was like down here.

As soon as his Mirror parents arrived, he silently waved them on. He was the only one who knew the location of the chamber. Down here there were many offshoots and passageways and it would've been easy to get lost.

The chamber was closed. Harry opened it, and inside the hole they saw Voldemort.

Lily and Hermione gasped.

Voldemort stood in the centre, in a round circle painted red, or perhaps it was blood. His Horcruxes were floating high above him, twinkling and hovering innocently. His hood was drawn low, and he caressed the Obsidian Stitch delicately in his gloved hand.

At his feet was Harry's Mirror. He knelt, shivering, and a collar was around his neck. To Harry's right he saw a glittering golden cage which had imprisoned Ginny, Michael, Jessica and a boy. They were all sleeping.

A sliver of dust fell over their heads as the ground shook around them.

But Voldemort was stoic. "You've finally arrived. Enter."

Harry did so first and as he did, the hidden Death Eaters ambushed the others outside. Their wands were ripped from their grasp.

"JAMES!"

A spell hit his chest and he crumbled first. Next was Emily, but Draco yanked her arm and held her close.

They were outnumbered five to one. They all cried out, but above the noise, Bellatrix laughed.

"Move and you'll die," she said in amusement, gripping Lily's hair, her wand at her neck.

Harry didn't know what to do as he watched them all struggling. They barely put up a fight.

"Come closer, Harry," Voldemort said loudly, his voice echoing around the chamber. "If you do as I say your Mirror family will survive." The black dagger glinted in his hand as he turned it over and over.

Harry was almost hypnotised by its black light.

Harrrrrrrrrry…

The Mirror turned his head slightly, catching Harry's eye. He heard it too.

Do you feel us, Harry?

Harry wasn't scared.

Can you smell the blackness of death…? Can you taste it…? Can you feel it?"

They froze.

Do you embrace it, Master of Death? Do you embrace it, Dark Mage?

"Yes," he replied and from within his mind, he heard the Mirror echoing his words. He closed his eyes; he had to trust it. From behind his eyelids he saw the pale blue eyes.

We are ready. You are ready. You are ready. Shall we dance to death, death, death? Or life, life, life?

"Both," Harry whispered.

It laughed. Do you want to hear my name?

"Yes," urged Harry.

"I was Fulvius Agelastus Maximus…"

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw something in the glittering cage stir. Jessica was the only one who had woken up. She got up and stared out of the cage with a crooked smile on her lips.

The Mirror looked terrified and Harry was too.

Finally, she cocked her head to the side and they heard her monotone voice. "And in death he became Vindictus."

49. Saves Nine

Saves Nine

Jessica sucked in a breath between her large front teeth, and without another word, collapsed, falling into her charmed sleep again.

"Sweetheart, I'm here!" Lily said as she struggled in Bellatrix's arms. She tried to kick Bellatrix, only to be punched in the face.

"She has not stopped repeating the silliest words… and how odd she woke up..." Voldemort stopped turning over the Stitch in his hands, and quietly observed her. "Jessica is quite damaged, isn't she?"

"No thanks to you," Draco clipped.

"SHUT UP, TRAITOR!" Bellatrix shrieked angrily at her nephew.

Harry just hoped Voldemort wouldn't put two and two together and question the integrity of the Stitch.

Near the entrance, a body stirred. James Potter groaned. He had been left behind, sprawled on the floor, unconscious. His Mirror kept staring at his father and Harry was getting quite anxious to help him. He tried to move a step back, but Vera Roux flicked her wand at him and her steely look silently perpetrated a threat.

"Potter, hand over your wand," Barty demanded. Thirty Death Eaters, hiding about the chamber, revealed themselves. They closed in, forming a circle.

Harry pulled out his wand, as he did so; he touched the coin, pleading for help. As Barty Crouch Accioed the wand, a collar appeared around Harry's neck.

"That shall prevent you using your Mage magic against me. So, shall we get this over with quickly?" Voldemort asked.

The Mirror sighed. "Yeah, why continue to beat around the bush about it?"

"Harry, please—"

"QUIET!" Bellatrix yelled, yanking at Lily's hair, inciting a small yelp.

The Death Eaters holding Draco, the Conditioned and Hermione were forced into the back of the chamber into one huddled group, except Bellatrix, who held Lily by the hair tightly

"Do anything stupid, Mirror Potter, and your Mudblood mother will go first."

Harry turned back and peered at the Horcruxes hovering above the Dark Lord. There was a galleon, a skull, Hufflepuff's cup, a dagger, the Sorting Hat, a leather bound book with gold detailing… and his Mirror.

"Harry," Lily whimpered. Her head was bent back so far that her teary eyes were focused on the ceiling.

His heart was pounding and his blood pulsing. He looked everywhere for anything to help.

Voldemort stared at the Mirror. "Why didn't you fight back in the Great Hall?"

"I wanted to watch you and Grindelwald battle it out—don't worry, I wanted you to beat him."

"But I didn't," Voldemort glowered. He clicked his fingers and a cup of unicorn blood appeared, which he drank swiftly. "I am still not good enough and the duel has left me almost without magic. I do not have enough energy to stimulate the absorption of power."

"So you did become a mage."

"I tried everything, only to discover that I never needed the ritual after all. I was born one, like you. We have so much in common; we share so much history…" He took a moment to flick the hovering gold galleon over. "If only you were truly mine, Harry, we could've been like… brothers, perhaps—"

"I find that hard to believe."

Voldemort inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring in anger. "We underestimated you."

"Sorry?" The Mirror shrugged, before shouting in pain.

Voldemort had thrown a white jinx at the boy. Blistering burns appeared around his collar. He let go of the curse after a lingering moment.

"But I will be myself again after this ritual is complete… I will have more power than you, and I will become a full Mage." Voldemort waited until the Mirror knelt upright again. "However, that wasn't your only reason you didn't fight in the Great Hall, Harry. You would not have wasted time to seek your brother and sister, to just sit there and watch."

"True," he hissed, "I needed to distract you from causing more harm. And it worked, didn't it? I was right there for you to take and you wouldn't want to be in the Great Hall any longer, even if it meant delivering the final blow."

An echo of a blast trembled through the chamber.

"Why are you so eager to die?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes from beneath the shadow of his hood. "Why?"

"Because I'm sick of being your Horcrux," he snapped.

Another explosion, this time stronger, made dust and rocks fall. Harry stared at the ceiling. "A battle is occurring above us and you're here just being self centred about things."

"Come closer, boy…" Voldemort ordered. "You are a part of my world now—a part of me."

"I'd rather go home. What are you going to do now?" He eyed the dagger in the Dark Lord's hands. "I mean, should I take a position at your feet as well, since I'm a Horcrux too?"

"I will keep you alive. Do as I say and perhaps I might spare you from my Death Eaters." He plucked up the galleon Horcrux, the first ever created by the goblins, and held it tight in his hand with the dagger pointed at it. The tip twinkled in a strange red and black light for a split second.

A shiver rippled over his skin. It almost felt like ghostly fingers were travelling up his arms lightly.

Harrrrrryyyyyy…

"Who will I pick first?" Voldemort asked the boy at his feet. The golden cage disintegrated, leaving the unconscious bodies in a heap. "Shall I kill Ms Weasley, Mr Rookwood's grandson… or perhaps your brother? No…" Suddenly Jessica's body started to levitate. "Your sister—"

"NO!" Lily cried. Her knees gave way, but Bellatrix forced her up. "Please don't do this—PLEASE!"

On the ground, a red circle suddenly glowed around the Dark Lord and the Horcruxes. And something that looked like blood started to seep out of it.

Can you smell it? Can you feel it? Can you see it?

As the girl hovered to a stop within the circle, Voldemort raised the Stitch, muttering an incantation, ready to strike the galleon and release his soul.

Do not fear the blackness of death…

"WAIT!" Mirror Harry spoke up, hands writhing against his restraints. "Don't use the galleon—use me first!"

Lily was sobbing, her face wet with tears. Harry tried to move, but wands were pointed at him.

Voldemort looked down, perplexed. "Why should I do that, Harry? I want you to see how this works. I want you to see the people you care so much for die for me—"

"It's over! I get it. We're all going to die," he said in defeat. There was a plea in his voice. "How much more can you put me through? I—I don't want to see you killing my family. Just grant me this final mercy. I know you feel it, those souls you stole will be making you feel new emotions."

Voldemort looked furious, and Harry felt it in his scar. He slashed his wand and the Mirror fell, his muscles taut with the agony of the curse.

"My Lord," Bellatrix started. "Perhaps, it might be good that he dies first. We both know Potter, and I think he will use the time to try and thwart you."

Harry closed his eyes and connected with his Mirror. "Harry, what are you planning? Tell me!"

"You'll know what to do when the time comes." The Mirror closed off the connection.

Harry instinctively looked to his side, and saw shadows disappear behind the columns, and into darkness. Heart thumping, he quickly eyed James who still unconscious and back to Jessica.

Voldemort let go of the galleon, letting it float above him once again. "Rise, Harry," he ordered, and the boy obeyed. He circled the Mirror, until he was right behind him.

Harry couldn't just let Voldemort kill him. It was so wrong. Everyone was pleading for mercy, but their voices were drowned out. All Harry could hear was his own heartbeat, and the tantalising connection opening up slightly.

"Harry, Tell me what to do, and I'll help you…"

The Mirror looked up, green eyes meeting green. There was fear. There was excitement and relief. Harry could almost feel the burden lifting away from his Mirror's shoulders.

Harrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyy….

A second later, the Mirror's eyes widened and a gasp escaped his throat. Lily screamed as Mirror Harry's body arched when Voldemort drove the dagger deeper into his back.

Harrrrryyyy Potter…Die. Die…

DIE!

Harry froze. He heard nothing but a ringing sound in his ear as he felt like his world was crumbling around him. He saw Lily collapsing just as her son did and the people who cared for him struggling to free themselves.

Will you dance to the blackness of death?

The Mirror fell onto his side, black robes splayed as blood blossomed out. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened unnaturally wide. Voldemort withdrew the dagger, laughing.

The black dagger laughed as well. Oh yes, yes you will.

He couldn't die. Voldemort was meant to die, not his Mirror.

The blood seeping out of the circle grew larger by the second as Voldemort continued with the incantation. The Mirror involuntarily arched his back again, and Voldemort's soul, black and thick and red, exited his mouth, circling the dagger before Voldemort let it re-enter his own mouth.

Bellatrix screeched in delight as she threw Lily to the ground. His Mirror mother had lost her fight as she inched towards her dead son.

As the Mirror lay lifeless on the ground, Voldemort staggered, clutching his chest. He was smiling deliriously. Beads of sweat formed on his bald, white head. He turned, murmuring words, and the Stitch glowed back. He raised it above his head, ready to plunge it into Jessica.

"DON'T!" Harry yelled. He sprinted and pushed Voldemort out of the way, before the dagger struck flesh. They both landed with a thud and the dagger glinted ominously in the Dark Lord's grasp.

"MY LORD!" Bellatrix yelled.

Harry suddenly screamed as white hot agony ripped through him.

Around the chamber Death Eaters were slashing their wands. Harry barely registered that wizards were fighting Death Eaters. And somehow, the Conditioned had freed themselves.

It is always dangerous using a life as a Horcrux… Did you know that, Tom?

"What is this—? What are you doing to me? HARRY!" Voldemort shouted, holding a hand to his chest. The Stitch was trembling in his hand.

Die, Tom.

Harry bolted upright, his body still stinging from the Cruciatus, and saw the fear in Voldemort's eyes.

You have been tricked… DIE!

"This is wrong. I've done it right. You cannot—!"

He has used his impure soul to save the children.

"RELEASE ME!"

The boy is more cunning than you think… You are one now, Tom. The Stitch laughed coldly. And now the ritual is tainted.

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!" He turned the Obsidian Stitch towards his own heart. "NO!" Voldemort was struggling to halt the Stitch in his gloved hands. He had no control over it.

Clever, clever boy...

Harry held his breath and jerked backwards far away from Voldemort. Even though his Mirror was dead, Harry heard him laughing. He couldn't die until this was over.

"NO!" Voldemort yelled. "BELLATRIX!"

Then a red, silvery sphere erupted from the glowing red circle, trapping Voldemort, his Mirror and Harry, and preventing the curses from penetrating the barrier.

"MY LORD!" Bellatrix screamed, rushing to his side. But she was flung away, out of the circle, where Barty came to her rescue.

Voldemort inhaled sharply, terrified. "I cannot control—Help—"

You are beyond help… We mock you. We despise you. You must be destroyed.

His red eyes were so wide as he stared at the dagger, before it pierced through his chest. Again and again it forced him to stab it around his heart. He was still alive, still breathing, yet Voldemort was in such a shock that not one sound escaped him. Around the wounds, his blood rose, defying gravity, like beautiful red ribbons.

Voldemort's hand delved into his chest and with one final movement, ripped his heart out. He fell right next to Harry, lifeless, his heart still beating in his spidery white fingers.

The Stitch exploded into a thousand glittering pieces, hovering and circling around the bodies. The bodies rose and arched back in unison. Voldemort's beating heart was between them and a black and red soul seeped from it, along with two tethered white ones.

Harry watched them twist, unfurl, and twirl, struggling to be ripped apart… to be freed.

People were rushing around them, dodging spells, trying to help. But in the circle, Harry was mesmerised by the awe of power and the supernatural. The circling, glittering black pieces of the Stitch began to speed up. The hovering Horcruxes were suddenly flung out of the circle, and even Harry was ejected.

"DESTROY THE HORCRUXES!" Draco commanded. He grabbed the galleon. Hermione threw him the fang, while Emily and Parvati got the rest as curses continued to fly around them.

Draco cried out in pain when the curse hit his shoulder and they heard a sickening crack. Vera Roux tried to poke Emily's eyes out.

Harry heard the Stitch laughing around them, echoing in the chamber now. It made their hair stand on end, and the fight between Death Eaters and the Order froze.

Die… die… DIE!

Bellatrix took the opportunity to try and kill her nephew, when Harry knocked her off her feet. She stared at him with hatred, before Disapparating.

"HELP THE CHILDREN!" screamed Lily. Harry saw Kingsley and Snape whip past, pulling the sleeping bodies to safety.

Barty Crouch Apparated across several sections of the chamber and as Hermione aimed over Harry's shoulder. He turned around because he guessed the Death Eater would attack from behind. With a crack his form materialised.

"REDUCTO!" Yelled Hermione and Parvati.

Crouch swerved and rolled away in time, positioning himself to curse the girls when Marianna threw a bloody curse. Blood spurted in every direction before the Death Eater fell.

"Where's Bellatrix?" Harry yelled, looking around feverishly. Where was she?

Parvati bolted forward staring up at the Mirror. "NO! Harry held her back. "Don't go in the circle."

"But—"

"NOT YET!" Harry commanded as they watched the souls twisting.

Then the two white spirits were flung out. The girls' souls were freed, injured but still whole.

Thank you… they whispered as they exited the circle.

Their presence on Harry's skin was like the soft dawn breeze on a winter's day. The girls' spirits let out a deep sigh of relief and slowly vanished.

"Quick, kill the hat!" Malfoy panted, clutching his mangled shoulder.

Hermione aimed the fang at the Sorting Hat. It let out an ear splitting shriek and the black spirit vanished.

The adrenalin was fierce. He focused on the souls fighting. "Come on, Harry! You can beat him." Voldemort's broken soul was distinguishable from his Mirror's dark red one as they battled it out above them. Then their bodies fell, hitting the ground hard.

But his mind was opening up, and he found himself being sucked into the void.

His Mirror was hanging on by a thread.

Glimpses of memories flashed across his mind: happy ones and sad ones. He saw his Mirror tickling Jessica, ruffling Michael's hair, walking alongside a big boar and laughing with Christopher.

Life… the Stitch whispered, intruding into his mind.

Then Lily touched his Mirror's cheek, as Sirius and James, Remus were sloshing butterbeer and singing out of tune to a Christmas song "You look so different without your glasses."

The Mirror squeezed his mother's hand and smiled. But it was a forced smile, and a sad one. "Thanks, I wanted to try a different look."

"Harry, you're exhausted. Dumbledore's making you do too much, isn't he?"

He sighed. "A little..."

The memory changed and the Mirror was holding baby Jessica in his arms… "I'm going to protect you," he said, kissing her forehead.

Blackness was creeping into the memories now, like a hazy veil.

In a forest entangled by the mist, Harry glimpsed the full moon rising above the trees. In front of Harry was a large hole filled with a few dozen bodies, in various states of decomposition. At the other side, two wizards were throwing in another victim. Harry recognised him as the Muggle man his Mirror had killed in a memory where he had trained with Bellatrix.

The wizards stretched their backs.

"I hate this time of the fucking month. The smell is sickening," one said.

"Let's go, Buttler. The werewolves will be out to scavenge these poor Muggles soon." They left, leaving Harry to wonder where his Mirror was.

The hole was filled with Muggle victims used in Death Eater training sessions. Then he saw something sprint to the man who had been thrown into the hole.

The Mirror dragged him out and lay him on the ground. Harry rushed forwards and watched as his Mirror cupped his hands over his face. "Wake up," he whispered.

Then the man inhaled the deepest breath he could muster.

And death… death… death…

Harry heard a crunch of glass and the growling laughter of Greyback behind him.

"Woof, woof, little doggie… "

Harry turned, trying to locate the Mirror in the darkness. Instead, he found the werewolf, and he was destroying his Mirror's glasses with his boot, grinding them down into the bloodied ground.

And then the memory swirled quickly into a different one, covered in that same dark haze.

They were in cell number 13. The door unlocked and a goblin strolled in.

The Mirror raised his eyebrows. "This is unusual."

The goblin grunted. "I'm in here checking the wards against your power. Minister's order." The goblin looked around, touching the graffiti covered walls. "All good."

The Mirror cocked his head as he stood up, feeling a little curious. "Do you have a message for me?"

The goblin pulled out a small bit of parchment. "The Death Eater girl sent you this."

The Mirror almost yanked the message from the goblin's fingers, but he hid his hand behind his back, his black eyes twinkling. "You're not quite yourself now, are you? The girl thought as much."

"Who do you think I am?"

"A Horcrux."

The Mirror laughed coldly. "Why do you care?"

"Because we've been watching you for a long time, Potter, and there are things which would interest you. Did you know Grindelwald's has been on the loose for months now? They say he's hiding in England."

"Does it look I care?"

"You should. You better watch out, Potter, he's always had an ambition to become a Mage. Two of our goblins went missing. We think he's experimenting on them."

"Again, I say, I. Don't. Care."

"Who am I speaking to now?"

The Mirror looked directly into the goblin's eyes. "Are you satisfied?"

"Aye, I'll just give you this message, and then I'll be back when I know you can fight Voldemort properly."

Mirror Harry scowled, but finally read the message. Harry looked over the Mirror's shoulder to read it himself.

Draco has just discovered the Pettigrew children are living in Bellatrix's quarters in a secret storage chamber.

"Tell her, Draco should let them escape when Azkaban's invaded or the Ministry is. Bellatrix and the Malfoys would be at their busiest then… Draco can just let them go. There's no way he'd risk his life taking them to the Order. He should give them Muggle map coordinates to hide in abandoned caves like I did. He'll know what to do."

"Because wizards won't have a clue what Muggle coordinates are!"

He nodded. "That should give the Conditioned safety until they're found by the Order."

"Why are you so concerned about these brats?"

The boy scrunched up the message and chewed it. "Because I promised their father I'd protect them."

The goblin grinned. "You can fight Voldemort when you want to, though, the longer you're stuck in here, his grip will grow stronger and he will feed off the power of your Dark phase. He will drive you mad."

"He's already doing it."

A new memory formed, barely visible at first. Harry saw the Mirror closing the office door as the memory became begrudgingly clearer.

"You summoned me, my Lord," the Mirror said.

"Come closer," Voldemort ordered. He stared out of the stained glass window as the Mirror approached the desk. "I would like a debriefing about the attack you were involved in yesterday."

"I wasn't heading the mission—"

"Nevertheless, I would like your version of events."

Mirror Harry seemed slightly alarmed and he shifted his weight onto his other foot.

Voldemort turned and eyed the boy. "I encourage competition amongst the younger Death Eaters and Conditioned. It helps me pick out the brightest of the army for a position of power." He walked around the desk until he was close to the boy. But the Mirror stared ahead without blinking. "You have been causing quite a stir in the last few months... not including the basilisk deaths. How many prisoners did you take yesterday?"

"Ten, master—the family of blood traitors you wanted."

"Tortured?"

"All of them."

Voldemort leaned in closer. "Your death toll?"

The Mirror's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "I killed two Aurors who were protecting the family."

"Really?"

The boy turned his head slightly, and without warning, Voldemort smashed his head against the desk, inciting a shout of pain. Voldemort leaned down close enough, so that they were both eye to eye.

"Death is a necessity of war. Death weeds out my opposition. Death is fear."

He yanked a fist full of the Mirror's hair before speaking. "Since you have become my servant, it is said that you have killed fifty people."

"Yes."

"Do not lie." Voldemort plunged his hand into the Mirror's robes.

The Mirror struggled, making Voldemort smack his head against the desk in retaliation. He soon found what he wanted: the yew and phoenix wand.

"Your true count is nine, I think..." he hissed venomously.

"That's not true—"

"The Aurors you killed yesterday are alive."

"How—?"

"Have you thought your little tricks have blinded me?"

"Not anymore—ARGHH!"

"You never did." Voldemort pulled the curse off the boy. "There have been sightings of your victims alive. More recently: Roger Tatum and his son, Ned. In yesterday's attack, I was there in disguise. I wanted to watch you—I wanted to see you at work." He pulled on the boy's hair, making him wince. "You didn't use the Killing Curse correctly on the Aurors. Either you have an inherent failure to grasp the power of the curse or... you've done it in purpose. But I know you, Harry. You deceived us."

"I have killed—"

"Not if you could avoid it!" Voldemort muttered the spell and regurgitated the spells cast from Harry's wand. "How many of your deaths have you spoken to Dumbledore about?"

"None!" the Mirror beseeched. "They wouldn't remember being hit with the curse. And there are many of the Conditioned who fail to use the curse correctly in the field... it doesn't even register with the Order."

The first spells that poured out of the wand were torture hexes and curses, and then the first dead to emerge were the Aurors he had killed with the Killing Curse. However, the wand's shimmering echo revealed only obscure, unrecognisable faces with no eyes.

"All lies, Harry. Even that could fool Dumbledore himself. How did you warp the Killing Spell to fake a death like that? When I checked the Aurors they did n't have a heartbeat... but there was a telltale flutter of their pupils."

"What can I say? I'm talented. I like keeping my secrets secret." He straightened up once again, staring ahead.

"And therefore, keep me or even the Order from knowing who you have truly killed. Why this charade?"

"Like you said, it's a competition. I cheated a little so I could rise up—"

"Your wish has come true." He walked around the desk once more. "I am raising your position—again. You will be my right hand man. I want you by my side all the time."

"Why?" This surprised the Mirror.

"Because I will be keeping a close eye on you and your exploits."

"Perhaps you should keep me on a leash."

"You keep up that attitude, and I will muzzle you as well," Voldemort hissed. "Besides, I will enjoy watching Bellatrix and Severus scheme against you. That will keep you on your toes."

"Am I dismissed, master?"

"Not quite. I have a mission for you. You will begin in two days… you will gather my remaining Horcruxes and bring them to me. Destroy any one of them, including yourself, and I will order the Death Eaters to kill the Mudbloods imprisoned in their homes." He laughed.

The boy grimaced as a trickle of blood slithered down his temple.

"After you have returned, the prisoners will be housed here and some will become slaves. I do not want the castle to fall apart and they will maintain it and give my lowly servants some amusement."

A flicker of dread rippled over the Mirror's face. "The retrieval of your Horcruxes could take me months—"

"Then you must use your time productively. Report back to me every day. Bring them back Harry. And if you so much as utter a syllable to Dumbledore, they are all dead."

The boy scoffed. "Don't worry, my Lord, I've been avoiding him."

"You can fight my Horcrux and its possession all you want, but you are mine. There will never be any escape for you."

The Mirror smirked. "You fear me."

Voldemort laughed. "You are not invincible, Harry. That is just teenage arrogance. Once I get my power back you will be the one to fear me."

The memory darkened and the words disappeared into silence. Mirrors appeared around him, dimming and brightening. Harry caught snippets of memories in each one.

But the mirrors circling Harry were cracking. Pieces drifted away, rising into the black void.

His mirror spoke again, but faintly, like a whisper into his ear.

"The next day he tracked my family. We went on the picnic. He found her…" The Mirror's voice was growing faint.

"Harry, you can't die!"

"I'm so tired. So… so tired..."

"That's not an excuse!"

"Go home, Harry. I am so, so sorry."

The connection broke. Harry gasped. People were shouting around him, spells shooting into the air. Harry ran to his Mirror and touched his hand. He was not thrown back, like Bellatrix had been. He looked at his Mirror and up at the souls fighting above them.

Do you feel us, Harry…?

Then the red spirit was free and it hovered low over Voldemort's body, preventing his own soul from entering it as they destroyed the last of the Horcruxes.

Harry held his Mirror's hand. "Come on, come on, come on," he kept repeating under his breath. He needed his Mirror to hold strong. But he took the Mirror into his arms and he limply hung back.

Harrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy…

The Stitch's voice was replaced with Lily's. Harry could not mistake his mother's anguish. "Please don't die... please."

In the corner of his eye, Harry saw Malfoy strike Hufflepuff's cup with the fang and an unearthly scream filled the air.

From in the circle, Voldemort's soul reared and screamed.

The black shards of the Stitch fell onto the ground, and were attracted to each other like a magnet. The Stitch reformed again, perfect and glowing blackly.

Death is what meets evil. We mock you.

"Harry, fight him!" Lily urged, kneeling by her son, holding him close to her chest. She stroked away his hair. "You are stronger than he ever was. We love you. We love you so much." She cried, her tears falling onto her son's face. She looked down and pressed her lips to her son's forehead.

With the final Horcrux destroyed, Draco, Hermione, Emily and Parvati entered the red, bloody circle and knelt around the Mirror. Voldemort's spirit attacked his Mirror's again, trying to enter his body.

Destroy me…

It was words for Harry's ears only. A thousand whispers of men, women and children urged him on with their yearning for justice and with the yearning to free their souls.

The Mirror's soul started to vanish as Voldemort's continued to lunge at it. But it was too late for Voldemort, he was disappearing as well.

Lily cried. "Harry, don't go."

Destroy us and we will help.

Then another voice, hissing and cold approached him.

"Oh no…" Draco's eyes widened.

The black soul reformed above and blackened. It wasn't over yet. Harry was still a Horcrux.

Voldemort plunged forward. It entered Harry's body, like a cold hateful wave.

"You are the last Horcrux!"

"NO!" Harry shouted. Through the agony, he outstretched his hand and the Stitch zoomed into it, like a willing command.

Yesssssssssss. You feel us. We will help you.

"He belongs to me! We are one."

All Harry could think of was death, and love. He could hear Voldemort's spirit screaming in pain.

You are nothing Tom…weak and mean. Love is your curse. Die.

It was working. Voldemort's soul began to relinquish his hold on him. But he felt glued to it, like Voldemort knew this was his final chance to stay alive. The connection was so strong that it was pulling at his very being. It was agony.

Harry thought with all his might about Ginny, his friends and about his Mirror family.

Yes…

Open your eyes.

Through the screams, Harry obeyed. Two small flayed things which looked like small children screamed and screamed; they were being pulled away from Harry into the darkness, by thousands of black hands, by spirits young and old, evil and good.

Open your eyes.

Harry awoke. And the black souls were dispelled from his mouth, disappearing into thin air. He could feel his own Horcrux clinging on for dear life, but in a split second it was gone too. The pain in his scar was horrendous, and it had opened, blood was gushing down his face. The Stitch was still in his hand, on his forehead. It had carved open his scar.

Destroyyyyyyyy me… And death will surrender. His mouth was moving, but it was the Stitch that spoke.

Lily's face swam into view, her eyes red and full of tears. She held the Stitch forcing it away from his head. "Together," she said.

He held the dagger so tightly and willed it to break. It shattered into a thousand pieces. The glassy black stone of petrified heart rose up around them, this time never to be reformed again.

Thank you.

A blinding white light rippled through the chamber with a gust of wind, and then everything was still again.

50. The Mirror's Revenge

The Mirror's Revenge

It was dead silent in the Chamber of Secrets, like the lull before a storm. Everyone—friend or foe—had stopped fighting after watching the deaths of Lord Voldemort and the Mirror.

Harry heard his companions' ragged and tired breaths, with a hint of grief intermingled, while the smell of their hot sweat filled the air. Harry also smelt a heavy presence of ozone and sulphur. Around them, the few remaining pieces of the Stitch floated, glinting like dark stars.

In the back of Harry's frazzled mind, he couldn't believe he had survived this. Now he wondered if he would survive his own war as he stared at the body of his Mirror.

It would've been deceptive to let out a sigh of relief now, but this war wasn't over yet. The Death Eaters still outnumbered them, and Grindelwald was somewhere, waiting for his time to rise in the ashes of Voldemort's almost fulfilled reign over Britain.

Harry sat up as a trickle of blood slithered down his eye, and noticed that the Death Eaters were stirring again. The shock of what they had seen was beginning to wear off. He ignited a Protection Shield around them, his fear mounting again.

"MUMMY!" Jessica was petrified.

It snapped them out of their stupor.

Harry suddenly noticed Lily's tight grip on his wrist. She let go at her child's voice.

"I'm here!" she replied.

Harry gripped hers. "Not yet."

"I can't leave her exposed—Let me go!"

"No."

Ginny, Michael and the other boy slowly woke, but Jessica sat up. She wrung her hands, confused, her eyes still white and misty. Kingsley knelt down, hugging the girl tightly.

"YOU'RE ALL DEAD!" a Death Eater bellowed.

Within a split second, there was a blur of dark figures around them and bright spells crisscrossed the air. Firing curses, the Death Eaters retreated into the darkness and the battle had restarted in earnest.

Retaliating, Snape shot back, hitting one. The Death Eater crumbled, leaving him in the middle of the chamber as he yelled for help. Kingsley and Parvati blasted two columns and another Death Eater was covered in stone. Draco and Emily crouched as spells whizzed over their heads. And Hermione cried out when something white hot smashed into her cheek. She rolled over James's body in the confusion. When she looked up, Harry saw her cheek bleeding and swelling to the size of a grapefruit.

Where's Bellatrix? Harry thought, as vertigo hit him with full force.

"Let me go to my daughter," Lily pleaded.

It only made his grip tighten. He couldn't. He couldn't loose her again. "She's protected." He knew Bellatrix would make an appearance as soon as Lily rushed to her child.

There was a stampede of feet outside the chamber and Harry was relieved to see more of the Aurors. But Barty Crouch twirled his wand at the entrance and the Aurors hit a silvery barrier. Three Aurors died when they touched it, exploding in a mess of flesh and blood.

"They can't get in," Draco blurted. "We're outnumbered."

Kingsley nodded at Snape, and the hook-nosed double agent rushed to see if he could undo the curse.

Then two Death Eaters Apparated next to Kingsley and knocked him off his feet. His bald, sweaty head smacked the ground with a sickening crack. Harry held his breath, but exhaled when Kingsley groaned awake.

"MUMMMMMMMMY!"

"NO!" Lily screeched, she yanked her arm out of Harry's grip, and ran to daughter who was screaming, rocking back and forth.

Fuck, thought Harry, retching. He was so dizzy now, that he couldn't focus on the people he needed to defend.

Then a Death Eater grabbed Jessica by the hair and pointed her wand at the girl's temple.

"Don't hurt her!"

"Do something," Harry snapped at Emily. She aimed, but Lily obscured her view and Emily wasn't about to rush out of the shield for a better position.

And a Death Eater pounced on Kingsley. But he kicked the Death Eater's face. With a growl, the masked wizard fell. Then he rolled over and attacked the Auror. They struggled on the ground trying to curse each other. Harry guessed his aim and expelled a wand.

"SHIT!" he swore. In the confusion, Harry had accidentally flung Kingsley's wand and not the enemy's. Kingsley and the Death Eater stared stunned for a moment, but Kingsley managed to yank the Death Eater's wand out of his gip and stabbed it into the wizard's eye socket. The Death Eater howled in pain as he was retrained.

Harry stood up, and then fell back as his world swirled around. A curse singed his neck, and he quickly realised that his Protection Shield had become undone.

Ignoring the protests from his tired and motion sick body, he crawled his way to Lily, but a hex smashed into his face. "ARGH!" Harry rolled over in pain, trying to stem the blood from his broken nose, his cheeks in agony.

Harry reignited a shield around his companions as Draco pulled him back, only to discover Emily was nursing her injured shoulder, and her wand lay splintered, and smoking at her feet.

"Lily, come back!" Harry shouted, spitting out blood.

There was a loud crack in front of her, stopping Lily in her tracks. Grinning, Bellatrix had finally materialised.

Lily ducked as Bellatrix flung a Cruciatus, but it missed and punctured a hole in the ground. It left open a wide gap in front of her and Bellatrix focused on Harry.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" She pointed murderously at him.

"Leave him alone!" Lily shrieked. Her hair whipped about as she twirled back, to aim at Bellatrix.

"LILY!" Snape roared.

Bellatrix chuckled, her laughter echoing ominously down the chamber. "Owww, what's the matter Sev, don't want your Mudblood fighting me?"

Harry stood up, but vertigo once again overcame him. He fought the urge to vomit. Draco and Emily closed in around him like a protective barrier. Hermione bolted over, and hid behind Draco, while Parvati concealed herself with Snape behind a column.

But Snape walked out, raising his hands, almost like he was willing to give himself up to save Lily.

"Go to the Mudblood, and I vill kill her daughter," Vera Roux spat in his direction.

A spell sizzled over Lily's head, frying some of her red hair. Snape ran, but halted when Jessica cried out. The Death Eater cut her wand into her temple.

"Let them fight and ve vill see the superiority of a pure-blood," Roux said, yanking the girl's hair again.

Harry staggered upright, his face pounding in pain. "Draco, can you and Emily try to undo that spell on the entrance and get the Aurors in?"

Draco eyed him. "Doubt it."

"Then help me up."

The boy hesitated, as he cautiously looked out for Death Eaters trying to attack them. "Stay out of this now."

"Are you ser—?" Harry doubled over and vomited. He knelt down again, flanked on all sides, and saw Lily stepping back, trembling, but her green eyes sparkled with determination.

Bellatrix positioned herself into a duel. She raised her arm and her dress sleeve drifted down to reveal the fading Dark Mark.

The witches aimed at each other. Harry held his breath, as dizziness distorted the view. The strained shouts around the chamber were ringing in his ears, and he saw Aurors desperately attempting to penetrate the deadly barrier.

"You've lost, Bella," Lily said through gritted teeth. "Your precious master is gone."

Bellatrix licked her lips. "It's not over until I kill you and the Mirror."

Harry drew in a deep breath, focused his magic and produced a silvery protection shield around Lily. However, she stepped out of it. He swore loudly at her bold recklessness.

"I've always wanted to kill you, Mudblood." Her wand flicked, but Lily jumped away from the Cruciatus Curse again.

Harry had to admit, his Mirror mother was quite nimble, and a good dodger. James told him once that if Lily wasn't so petrified of flying, she would've made a good Seeker or Chaser.

"If we had more time, I would've loved to see you beg." Bellatrix laughed. "Your son became so good at it…"

"LIAR!" Draco spat.

"Fuck me, please, oh please," she shrilled. "You should've seen your boy, Lily Potter—"

"Don't listen to her!"

"He was utterly desperate bent over and wanton."

Lily trembled in silent rage. Harry saw Snape shake his head at her. Harry knew it would be extremely difficult fighting Bellatrix without any help, and he wasn't about to see his Mirror mother die.

"You are an abomination!" Lily said softly, but there was a deadly undertone to it. "You took my child and you ripped his life apart!"

Bellatrix screamed in delight. "And what a pleasure that was." She jutted her chin at Harry's dead Mirror. She cocked her head and a brutal leer appeared on her face. "It was such a joy watching him turn into a dirty, moaning whore—"

"YOU'LL NEVER HARM MY CHILDREN AGAIN!" Lily plunged forward, and a spell erupted from her wand. Bellatrix spun around, shrieking.

Emily eyes darted from the witches to the entrance. The Aurors were firing counter charms to destroy the curse. Harry wanted to do more, but every time he stood up, his world shifted precariously and he couldn't concentrate on his magic, and he knew he needed to keep the shield intact.

He fell again, and this time Draco held him down. "For fucks sake just lay still!"

Harry snarled back.

"Hermione, get the blue bottle in Harry's pocket," Emily whispered.

Hermione inched towards the Mirror. She ran out of the shield, dodging spells and lay low over the Mirror's body, checking for a pulse with one hand, feeling his chest, then looking through his robes. Fumbling about, she discovered a small bottle, and slid it across the floor to Emily, as Lily jumped away from a fiery, blue spell that seemed to chill the room.

From the corner of his eye, Kingsley was caught in a duel with Priscott, as Snape endeavoured to help Lily. Across the floor, Ginny failed to escape, and screamed in agony when the Death Eater watching her, struck her with a curse that maimed her hands. Michael jumped up, and threw himself onto the wizard.

Snape changed direction and attacked, dodging Roux's spell. He yanked Ginny away as a spell rebounded off his dragon hide boots.

"REDUCTO," roared Draco.

"Expelliarmus,' said Emily with her broken wand. But the spell spluttered feebly across the chamber.

Their spells rebounded off stone and silver masks.

Hermione swerved behind the column with Parvati and they both brought down two Death Eaters. Yes! thought Harry

But the hidden Death Eaters continued pounding them with hot, deadly curses.

Finally throwing Michael off, the Death Eater was about to kill him. Harry let go of his Protection Shield, leaving them wide open to attack, and threw a fireball. The Death Eater was engulfed by the flames and was screaming around the chamber, until Barty killed him.

"HIDE! HIDE," commanded Emily. Draco unceremoniously pulled Harry up and they jumped behind a stone statue of a serpent, metres away. Then the head of the serpent cracked off.

"Merlins balls!" yelped Draco. "How the hell are we—?"

Then Jessica screamed in terror. In the chaos, Roux pulled Jessica into her arms and made a run for it.

"SNAPE—GET HER!" Harry bellowed, pointing at the girl. He concentrated hard and made the floor beneath the Death Eater's feet slippery. They fell with a thud.

"AVA—"

Roux fell back, clutching her throat. Blood was spurting from her neck after a well-timed Sectumsempra from Snape.

"MUMMY, HELP!" Her face was covered in crimson. Snape pulled her away and covered her with his cloak as they hid in a small nook near the entrance.

In the background, Kingsley was fighting, still caught in a battle with Priscott, and this time, Crouch had joined in. Kingsley yelled in frustration and jumped behind fallen stone.

If Voldemort couldn't kill them, surely his Death Eaters would. Then a Death Eater ambushed them, throwing Harry onto the ground.

"NO!" Harry spat, momentarily in shock.

"I'll fucking kill you!" he hissed.

But the Death Eater suddenly collapsed on him, his dead weight constricting his chest. Draco killed him.

Distracted by Jessica who was still screaming, Lily yelled as a hex cut into her shoulder, but she fired a disarming spell, which made Bellatrix dance out of its way.

Bella seemed amused. "The same goody spells over and over. If the Order had some balls, then would've beaten us by now. WEAK COWARDS AND IDIOTS!"

Then there was silence again, as they watched Bellatrix and Lily Potter circle each other.

Lily scowled back when she narrowly missed a Dark curse that sent a shiver through Harry. She hit back with a powerful Reducto.

"FUCK! Do you know how predictable—"

Lily fired a curse. Bellatrix yelped as she jumped out of the way. The curse left deep scorch marks on a pillar. "YES, FIGHT ME YOU MUDBLOOD CUNT! AVADA—"

Lily fired a curse before Bella finished hers. The curse hit the Death Eater's wand arm, turning it into stone.

Bellatrix screamed, her wand arcing into the air as she fell to one knee. She clutched her arm. In shock, she touched it with a finger and gasped when it crumbled into a fine, grey dust. Wide-eyed, Bellatrix laughed now. "Well, well, who would've thought of pure, kind-hearted, pretty Lily Potter using the Dark Arts!"

Lily panted. "The Order lets people use Dark Arts only as the last resort—for survival. And you… I think it's safe to say you won't play fair."

"True… and here I thought Dumbledore cut off his ties with the Ministry because of their use of the Dark Arts. Looks like he wasn't so perfect after all."

"He was far from perfect!" Lily spat.

Bellatrix's grey eyes glinted dangerously like the pieces of the Stitch that hung overhead.

"Give up, Bella!" Lily said harshly. "You're badly injured—"

"NEVER!" With a second of wandless, she Accioed her wand into her other hand and swirled around, hopping from one corner of chamber to the other.

Lily whipped around, terrified. "Where are you?"

"BEHIND YOU!" Harry warned.

Bellatrix threw a dagger and it struck Lily's side.

"LILY!" Snape and Harry roared. She yelled in pain as she fell. "MUM!' Michael said.

Panic and shock gripped him. No, she can't die! He can't watch another mother die.

"Ready, Draco?"

"Suppose so," he snarled.

Emily flung herself onto Bellatrix, stopping her mid laugh. She scratched her face with a cracking slap. They fell into a heap, and in one swift move, Emily stole Bellatrix's wand and yelled, "CRUCIO!"

Bella didn't have time to react and was writhing in agony. Emily bolted upright, holding the wand steadily. She stared down without an ounce of emotion on her plain face, and did not relinquish the curse.

Harry saw the remaining Death Eaters trying to escape now. Good…

Lily cringed, breathlessly and said, "end it." Snape and Parvati ran over to help her, but she knocked them back. "Emily!"

The Conditioned girl didn't lift the curse.

Death Eaters were retreating. And suddenly the curse at the entrance was undone by Kingsley. Aurors flooded in with the Order and once again the fight continued.

"EMILY!" Snape barked, "Stop it!"

She jerked her head towards him. "Why should I, Mentor?"

"This isn't you!"

"I'm a Conditioned. She needs to pay for what she's done."

"Justice. She needs to face justice," Lily said, panting and in pain. "Lift the curse and bind her."

Emily obeyed, and placed a Petrifying Curse to hold her firm. She circled the now still witch, then knelt down near her head and uncorked the tiny bottle. Harry heard Bellatrix's muffled cries as she desperately tried to move.

"You deserve death, but we think this will be worse—Confundus."

Then contents of the bottle rose and Emily softly muttered an incantation, bathing the silvery contents in a white glow.

"This is Harry's revenge."

Emily forced Bellatrix's mouth open, and the silvery thing, which Harry suspected were memories fell into her mouth.

Bellatrix suddenly arched her back in a silent scream. Her eyes bulging in what looked like fear… horror. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" She screamed. "NO. NOOOOO! DON'T—STOP!"

Emily knocked the witch out with her boot and moved away, as Death Eaters were backing themselves out of a small hole, cursing the Aurors.

"Harry…" Lily clutched her bleeding side, the dagger still in to its hilt. She collapsed into Snape's arms, as Crouch and Priscott yelled to their mates to retreat.

The Death Eaters disappeared out of a small hole, which Harry guessed led to the lake. It closed up behind them and the Aurors smacked against it, unable to rush in after them.

Their breaths echoed in the dark, smoky chamber.

And it was over... Voldemort was gone and Bellatrix defeated.

The Aurors quietly helped them up and treated their injuries, but Harry was numb. He just sat there, unable to process anymore of it.

"What did you do?" asked Hermione, staring at Emily. Her voice sounded so soft in Harry's ear.

"Harry manipulated his memories. He wanted them implanted into her so she'd be the one suffering the torture he had been put through. She'll be confused enough to think they're hers." Emily gazed at the Mirror's dead body. "Her every waking moment will be consumed by it."

"It won't last."

"I don't care. The bitch needs to understand what she put her captives through. We owe it to Harry. He was adamant that if he didn't make it, we'd do it for him."

Someone groaned. James was stirring awake as an Auror checked out his injuries.

"We need to get out now," Snape said.

Lily opened her eyes. "Harry… take me to Harry…"

"No, you need to be seen by a Healer—"

"Take me to my son!" Her words jolted them. Harry heard Jessica sniffling in Kingsley's arms, and he saw Hermione and Parvati wiping their tears away.

Snape sighed and they helped her across the chamber. She collapsed next to her unmoving son. "Please wake up."

Parvati gulped as she touched his pale cheek.

"Leave him alone!" Lily pushed the girl away. She stroked back the fringe from her dead son's face.

With Draco's help Harry stood over them. It felt surreal staring at his Mirror's dead body. Hermione held him arm tightly. Perhaps she was scared she'd lose him too.

His Mirror was splayed on the ground. Blood had pooled around him. But Lily didn't seem to care, as her clothes and hands became smeared with her son's blood, intermingling with her own. She sat there, staring at his still features, fingers gently moving down the contours of his face. Then she let her tears fall and her anguished cry sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

Hermione let out a small whimper. "We have to go."

Lily inhaled deeply. "Is… is there anyway Harry can bring him back?"

"Mrs Potter," she said gently. "Th-there are limitations with being a Mage. Harry can't bring him back, not when his soul has left his body." Her breath quavered with grief and hurt. "It's… it's too late for him."

"Mum please, you're hurt." Michael said, falling to her side. His eyes were bulging at her wound.

"I should've died for you," she whispered to her dead boy.

"No! Mum," Michael shook her shoulder. "You've still got us! Me, Chris and Jess, and Dad. We need you too!"

But Lily wailed, sobbing. No mother should ever see her child dead. And she experienced two of her children die.

"Harry?" James croaked as he came to. He looked over the Auror's shoulder. "Oh God—Merlin! HARRY!" He struggled out of their grip. "THAT'S MY SON!"

Harry stumbled back. He couldn't witness this anymore. Kingsley held Jessica as he made his way over to him.

"I need to go."

It felt so wrong, he felt like an intruder witnessing his Mirror parents' grief. Harry shivered and not knowing where he was going, his legs gave way.

"Its okay, Harry…"

"I don't want to be here anymore—I've had enough."

"Come on, let's go," Kingsley nodded curtly, and without turning back to see the people he cared about mourning over his Mirror's body, Harry was helped out of the chamber by Draco, and past the shocked, bloodied Aurors lining the tunnel.

"WE WON!" An Auror shouted, lifting a fist into the air.

The others cheered and cried for joy, clapping their backs, but Harry was numb to it all, until a small hand fumbled into his. He was startled when he realised Jessica had reached her hand over Kingsley's shoulder to grab hold of Harry's. He looked into her eyes and discovered a hint of green in them.

He felt something in his hand. When Jessica pulled away there was a glinting piece of the Obsidian Stitch in his palm.

51. Dumbledore's Curse

Dumbledore's Curse

An eerie silence reminiscent of a graveyard's had now replaced the battle cries, duels and explosions at Hogwarts. At present, only the cold Dementor mist assaulted their bodies, not the goblin made swords, wands or shrapnel flying overhead.

After breaking away from Kingsley in the joyous crowd, Harry walked past shell-shocked wizards, and imprisoned Death Eaters ready to be carted away to a secure location.

Harry swiped the rubble away from the main steps into the castle and sat down, so tired now, numbly watching the bloodied, snow covered world and the soldiers left behind.

Most of the injured on both sides had been taken into a makeshift hospital in the grounds, while the people left standing seemed a little lost and shocked. Their elation minutes before that the war had finished, died down to the realisation that many friends and family members were dead.

Even with the brief encounter he's had of this world, Harry was sad to hear that Cho, Dedalus, Professors Slughorn and Flitwick, Tonks, Hannah Abbott, Marietta and many Order members and Conditioned had died during the battle.

A witch screamed as Healers stabilised her wounds. Harry stopped to look.

Nobody cared about him as people staggered by. In a way, he welcomed the anonymity. Everyone was too exhausted and hurt to care but for themselves in the aftermath, and Harry felt the same. He rubbed his aching eyes and watched wizards move the bodies away. Others sat huddled, crying, or in a strange stupor.

As dust, snowflakes and the mist swirled around Harry; he didn't know how to begin to process it. He pulled out the piece of the Obsidian Stitch that Jessica gave him, and ran over its sharp groves with his thumb, letting it dig painfully into his skin. There were no voices now, no Vindictus taunting him. It was nothing now, except for a jagged piece of a petrified, glassy black heart.

Then as he started to get comfortable of the strange silence with the Stitch in hand, Hermione sat by his side.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," she reprimanded, "Kingsley sent out a search party." Hermione handed him a mug of tea that suddenly appeared alongside her. She touched her little galleon, alerting everyone that he'd been found.

"I wanted to be alone."

She was bruised, dirty and her straight bob hair in a bushy mess now. She looked more like his Hermione now. I'll be home soon, he thought, thinking of her and the way her eyes suddenly focused when she looked up from a book, realising that he was there.

"How's Ron, Lily and James?"

"They're recovering, and Jessica's curse is slowing vanishing."

"Harry's body?"

"With the other dead." Hermione stared into the sky, her eyes watery now. "Lily was a bit… she was reluctant to let him go." She bowed her head, letting the steam from her tea hit her cheeks.

She looked so sad. A furrow appeared on her brow, prompting Harry to reach out and squeeze her hand.

She sniffled, "don't say anything."

"Okay." He pulled back and just silently connected with her grief.

"I'm sorry," Hermione responded abruptly, plonking her tea down. "I just feel so tired to even think."

"I know."

"I don't want to think about Harry. Because if I do…" her lip quivered and she quickly wiped her eyes. "I can't look at you."

Harry turned away as well. It felt like his insides were being constricted. "To be honest, I don't want to think of him either… That could be me soon: dead, lying in blood..."

"Oh God!" Hermione's voice broke as she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, sobbing.

Startled, Harry hugged her back and after a minute or two she calmed down and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I was staring at his closed eyes, hoping he'd wake up." She wiped her tears away, but gazed at him with a twinkle of hope in her eyes. "W-w-when I felt his pulse in the Chamber he was freezing cold. Not just his limbs, his entire body!"

"Well, isn't he supposed to be cold? He's dead."

"It was peculiar," Hermione shook her head. "Bodies don't freeze like that straight after death. What if there's a way—?"

"He's dead," Harry answered bluntly. He had tried to regain a spark of a connection with his Mirror to no avail.

She sighed. "Yes. There was no heartbeat and we all saw his soul disappear." Hermione pushed away and wiped her eyes with her cloak. "Denial," she choked.

"Yeah… It's normal to feel this way." When Cedric, Sirius and Dumbledore died, there were moments where Harry thought that it was all a dream, that their deaths were nothing but hoaxes. Sometimes when the Dursleys door had knocked and someone entered, Harry thought he heard Dumbledore's voice travelling up the floorboards. In that second, his heart would skip a beat…

"I know," Hermione started, "but, he was experiencing another phase. The Red phase–the Immolatio level, I think it was… so, so he didn't fulfil it!"

Harry frowned. If his Mirror had failed to progress through a phase, ending in death, then the situation would've been dire for them all. "But he passed it. He saved us, and therefore he fulfilled it as he died."

"Then why did he still die?" Hermione's brown eyes were full of tears. She cupped her mouth and then let out a sob.

Harry rubbed her back. "Because he was ready to die."

A loud bang erupted at the edge of the forest. There was a skirmish and a giant fell through, making the ground shudder. Wizards were hurling spells to subdue it.

"We're not out of danger yet," she said.

Harry agreed. "Any sign of Grindelwald?"

"No." Hermione straightened up and cast a warming charm over their teas. "I saw Bladak with the Minister. The goblins are furious he was allowed to escape. Grindelwald's supporters are a little confused that he had left them without orders."

"He's not done here, not while I'm still present."

"Snape thought the same." She realised that Harry was holding the Stitch and plucked it from his fingers. "Nothing exists in it... I hope all of the spirits are at peace now."

"Did you notice how the Obsidian Stitch used Jessica?"

"Yes." She looked up, intrigued now. "I think the Stitch was interested in her because she was an innocent used for evil. I can't believe you've got this piece."

"Jessica gave it to me as we left the chamber."

Hermione held the stitch up and it glinted in the white light. "All the pieces in the Chamber turned to ash after you left. This is the only piece left in existence. The Unspeakables were combing the area hoping to secure one."

"Give it to them," replied Harry.

"Are you sure?" she questioned. "I mean, it's an amazing artifact, a reminder—"

"I don't want to see it again."

Hermione sadly pocketed it and stood up. "Let's go into the hospital marquee." She stretched her limbs, pain etching on her face. "I think I have some cracked ribs."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He could hear mad-eye yelling in his mind, CONSTANT VIGILANCE! He remembered impostor Moody moving him away after he returned from the graveyard.

But her eyes were brown. If it had been Grindelwald, he would not have been able to change his eye colour.

"Come on, it's not safe out here."

More than a thousand dead wizards and beings still littered the grounds. Soon, Harry knew this would happen in his world.

In the hospital, the St Mungo's Healers were helping with the injured. It turns out when the battle had begun; the Healers had been locked in the infirmary, but with their initiative, had killed and fought with the death Eaters before joining the battle in the main parts of the castle.

He walked slowly, helping Hermione hobble through, ignoring the curious looks and whispers. They found the Weasleys and the Potters together. There were cries and solemn faces around. Ron was unconscious and Cotter and Madam Pomfrey were working to heal him.

Lily was extremely pale. Sitting next to her was James, bandaged and peaky. He was holding Jessica tightly. Michael seemed anxious and watched them like a hawk, occasionally ordering a Healer to give his parents pain relief.

Jessica looked up, blinking weakly at Harry.

"Harry? Harry, is that you?" Her lip trembled. She looked so scared and confused. Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck. "I thought you were dead!"

He couldn't break the girl's hope.

She burst into tears. "I-I'm so s-sorry! I d-don't want to g-go to Azkaban. I'm so sorry. I did-didn't want to do it. Mummy—Daddy I-I'm—"

"Shhhh…" James cradled his daughter as she cried her lungs out. "Sweetheart, it's not your fault."

But the girl sobbed even harder. "She-she found me in the woods and-and she—"

"We know," Harry whispered, holding her little hand tight.

"I-I did whatever she said. I couldn't help it. I tried. Mummy, Daddy I'm not bad. I tried, I tried to fight her, but it was so strong. I'm so sorry I hurt Charlie…"

Harry knelt down and wiped the girl's tears with his thumbs. Her eyes were returning back to normal. "Harry loved you so much. He watched over you and wanted you to be safe. Remember that."

James kissed the top of her head, his tears disappearing into the girl's black hair. "You're safe now. No one will ever hurt you again."

Harry felt so sad for the girl. He wondered if she would ever forgive herself.

Then there was a sudden explosion outside and the ground shook.

"What the?"

Harry rushed out of the marquee with Hermione. James struggled to catch up. Then Emily appeared next to them, almost acting like a barrier for Harry. There was a lot of commotion in the castle. Spells were being fired and supporters were protecting Grindelwald. On the other side of the battle, Priscott, Crouch, and a few other Death Eaters were attacking everyone from their hiding spots.

Crouch shouted, "WHERE'S THE BODY?"

Grindelwald laughed. "I was about to ask you the exact same question. But I saw Death Eaters take the body—did they not tell you?"

Harry held his breath, wondering what the hell was going on.

"YOU'RE LYING! WE WANT THE BOY!"

"THERE'S THE OTHER ONE!" Alana Priscott shrieked when she spotted Harry.

Shit!

Emily put a hand on his shoulder and steered him back.

"HARRY! Come here," Grindelwald grinned.

"No way!" He took a step back.

"Come. I can protect you—help you go home."

"I find that hard to believe. Why'd you come back?" Harry asked, tensing up. Everywhere around, Death Eaters were pointing at the Aurors and Grindelwald supporters. Nobody knew what to do.

Grindelwald cocked his head a little and he stared for a moment. "For your Mirror… but his body has vanished."

Emily gasped, and her hand dug into Harry's shoulder.

"This Potter's ours you old thief!" Barty spat.

Grindelwald raised an eyebrow. "Harry, they will kill you, but if you come with me—"

"STAY AWAY FROM ME," Harry yelled.

Grindelwald slashed his wand at Crouch, while Priscott smashed the hospital marquee with a ferocious fiery dragon of the Fiendfyre Curse. It sent people into a state of panic and fear.

Emily hurled the Killing Curse. "HIDE, HARRY!"

Harry ignited a protection shield and bolted. And again there was a battle, with spells flying from all directions. Harry had to dodge swerve and roll to avoid them.

"Harry, in here!" Marianna shouted, grabbing his arm towards Hagrid's burnt out hut. Draco was behind her urging him forward.

But Mannix Apparated in front of them, and knocked Kirkhope out with his elbow, shot Malfoy a jinx that hit him between the eyes, and gripped Harry's neck with his ham sized hand. He felt a buzz in his body and Mannix howled in pain. However, he still held onto Harry.

Suddenly, there was a whirl of air and Harry felt his life tumbling over, until they hit ground again. He fell flat in the snow covered grass, and looked up to see Grindelwald. The wizard laughed, aiming the Elder Wand into Harry's face. He helped Mannix up and examined the wizard's hands which was smoking and red raw.

"You got your power back." He grinned; revealing his perfectly white teeth. He slowly healed his supporter's burnt hands.

Harry scuttled backwards and hit something cold on the bank of the lake. He realised it was an arm; a dead wizard. Even here, bodies were floating in the water.

"HARRY!" People were yelling. He could see the Order on the hill, over the lake, the Fiendfyre behind them burning everything in its wake and people screaming for help.

They were slowly being surrounded and someone threw a jinx which hit Mannix in the back. He roared in pain, before he fell silent. Grindelwald waved his wand and a deep silvery sphere erupted high into the air, protecting them.

"I find my power so strong and unfocused without a wand. It's so different, yet the more I absorb, the more extraordinary I feel. I can hear the trees, the grass and the wind whispering to me." Grindelwald knelt down and felt Mannix's wrist.

"No… don't…" The supporter arched his back, writhing as his life ebbed away into Grindelwald's body.

"STOP!" Harry yelled. He flung Grindewald ten feet away with an easy thought. His anger was back. And again he saw a red aura pulsing from his body before it vanished. "STOP doing this to people!"

"I must have more… if I absorb yours again… I will be invincible," he breathed out.

"You're going to kill everyone. Don't you understand that your power isn't natural? You'll destroy everything!"

Grindelwald was trembling slightly now, and Harry gasped when he noticed a trickle of blackened blood trailing down the wizard's nose.

"Then surrender to me, Harry, and I will let you live," he declared. "Together we will build something great—A new empire where Muggles will serve us."

"You're delusional," Harry growled.

"We could learn so much from each other," Grindelwald's eyes shone bright. "A natural born Mage exudes power, everything about you does. It is an ancient power that could help many."

"I'm not your experiment!"

"You're not; I did all that to your Mirror," he concluded. "But I learned that your blood has the most unusual healing properties once coagulated. You could help many—squibs and even high born Muggles will have temporary magical power, and will pay millions to secure an ounce of your blood—"

"—Oh my god!" Harry muttered as Grindelwald continued to speak.

"—Vampires will experience a brief moment of mortality, being able to taste and smell… I could use you and other Mages to secure funds and wealth; I can rule the world in no time."

"I'm not your cash cow!" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Of course not Harry, you will be my side, helping me."

"Where's my Mirror?" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

"I don't know. The Death Eaters got to him first."

Harry was confused. "But those Death Eaters—"

"I saw three Disapparate with the body."

As spells hit the silvery shield, Grindelwald advanced on Harry again. "Will you surrender willingly?"

"Over my dead body!" Harry yelled defiantly.

"Then we will duel, and I will win," Grindelwald said softly.

"With a knife?" Harry spat. "Will you kill me, like Dumbledore?"

He sighed, "it wasn't an honourable way to end it, but let's admit do you really care after how he has played with us?"

"It was still cowardly!"

"Come Harry, calm down and submit. You will live in peace."

"BULLSHIT!" Harry's rage burst forth, Grindelwald suddenly fell, clutching his throat.

"Har—"

Grindelwald touched the ground and Harry felt an electric charge strike his entire body, blasting him off his feet. He heard Grindelwald inhale deeply and coughing as Harry rolled over and staggered upright.

"We can fight all day, but I will prevail—"

Harry growled and struck the wizard with a glorious red fireball. He didn't need to wait for it to form. After many practice sessions, he was able to produce it in a second.

Grindelwald swirled around and vanished before the fireball enveloped him. Harry turned in time to see the wizard inches from his face, smiling back. Suddenly, the ground beneath Harry's feet opened up, sucking him into it.

"NO!" The ground closed up around his body, trapping him.

"Look around you, Harry…"

Panting, panicking, Harry obeyed. On the hill, the wizards watching on were flailing, falling to the ground, yelling for help.

"Stop it!" Harry commanded.

"I will, if you come with me now. Or they will all die."

Harry willed the ground to soften. He waved his hand beneath the soil, and a rush of freezing lake water threw Grindelwald into the air, imprisoning him in a sphere of fluid.

Harry watched the wizard twist in the water, drowning, but around them, wizards were still dying.

And then as Harry urged for Grindelwald to surrender, he felt a ripping pain down his chest. Harry fell. Frightened and in pain, he saw blood gushing through his clothes. Grindelwald was cutting him right open, from neck to groin.

He momentarily lost his grip on his power, and the sphere of water splashed onto the ground, letting the old wizard go. Breathing was agony, moving too. Harry just lay there and waited for the chance to pounce back.

"Are you ready to surrender?" Grindelwald's ashen face swam above Harry's.

"I s'pose so." He spat blood into the wizard's face.

Grindelwald clamped his hand over Harry's wrist, the black aura of his power pulsing from him.

Harry thought for a second they were going to Apparate, but then something in Grindelwald's steely grey eyes showed fear.

He could feel their pulses connecting, their power clashing, and suddenly the old wizard's breath caught in his throat. Black blood trickled from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth now. "Al… Alb—"

Then only one pulse remained and that was Harry's.

Harry felt an electric twang in the air between them and all sound vanished. His arm was still entwined in Grindelwald's hand. The power shivered within and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, expecting something very bad to happen.

BOOOOOOOOM!

Instinctively Harry's power erupted and he hoped to protect the people outside their duel.

Harry couldn't breath, air didn't exist and it felt as though he was being crushed. The ground beneath them shuttered and opened and something fiercely hot burned at his clothes and skin. It was dizzying and he was petrified. It was like he was stuck in a black airless coffin in the middle of hell. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

This was it, he was going to die. Harry blacked out.

When he woke up, he saw nothing but the blinding white sky and acrid black smoke rising.

He heard people screaming and yelling for help, and things falling as parts of the castle collapsed. He sat up, gasping. His clothes had been burnt off and he was covered in red raw burns and dirt and a large cut down his torso that was the stuff horror films would imagine of. He was going to be sick.

"POTTER!"

Where was that voice coming from?

Strange black and blue fires had sprung up around him. He let out a cry of shock and looked around. The ground was all melted and he was in a sort of crater created by the explosion.

Ahead of him, Grindelwald was gone, but there was a black smoky presence rising, swirling and twisting above him.

What happened? Harry touched his head with shaking fingers trying to remember anything. Grindelwald's last word was Albus…

"POTTER, STAY STILL!"

Then Harry remembered the duel in the cave. That final curse Dumbledore had hit Grindelwald with had stopped his heart for a moment, but it was a foretaste of a curse that would protect Harry. Whatever it was, it killed Grindelwald.

The smoky soul like thing was strange; Harry saw black tendrils forming flexing fingers, and he heard a guttural inhale of breath. Harry crawled towards it, and in his confused and adrenaline enriched state, decided to run his hand through it.

"Don't touch it!" someone shouted.

The smoke was freezing cold; it was leeching his thoughts, bleeding whatever little amount of joy he had.

"You won, Harry…"

"Your mine, Potter…"

Harry inhaled sharply and withdrew his hand.

"You forever belong to me…"

Then someone was pulling him up, and backwards, and a cloak was pulled over him, stinging his burns, and soaking up the blood that was dripping down his legs.

He could hear Brodes laughing.

"What…?"

"No time to explain, just move!" Snape growled, dragging him back. Around them, people lay injured on the ground or dead. Half of Hogwarts had collapsed and the forest was covered in black, blue flames, while the lake had become a boiling pit with hot steam rising.

Harry just laughed, amidst his pain, and the terror of everyone around him. Among the death and devastation he had experienced, he never felt so free of this fucking world until now. He was going home!

Please review

52. Gone

Gone

"Harry… Harry? Cotter, can he hear me?"

"He's in shock, Kingsley," she answered as she checked Harry's pupils.

"Right. Call us when he's back in the land of the living," said another in a gruff voice. "We need to debrief about everything."

"He needs rest."

"Gawain's right, Cotter," Kingsley replied in a slightly aggravated voice. Harry thought that he was probably under a lot of pressure now to keep them all safe and get things moving. "We need all the information while it's fresh in his mind."

Cotter's jaw tensed as she moved into Harry's line of vision and waited for Kingsley to disappear in the crowd of Healers. Suddenly, his body relaxed and he was able to move, talk and blink.

"Did you really need to petrify me?" he croaked.

"I need to treat your burns quickly without interference," she replied, tersely, rubbing the orange salve onto his arms, perhaps a little too forcefully for Harry's liking. She looked up with her lips slightly pursed. "This salve will work fast to prevent infection and regenerate skin. However, as we know, Mage magic is a bit more volatile. We need to reapply a few times."

Harry had had enough. He was going home now. He tried to sit up in bed, only to have Cotter push him back down.

"Stay still or I'll put you to sleep!" she snapped.

He was fuming, and moments later his hands cramped up from having tight fists. He didn't want to close his eyes and fall asleep. He couldn't anyway. He had too much adrenalin in his body. Besides the image of Grindelwald disintegrating into a fiery explosion and subsequent transformation was imprinted in his mind.

He noticed he was floating an inch above his bed in the hospital marquee and it was the same with his bed sheets, so they wouldn't stick to the salve. Nearby, other badly burnt people were being treated as well. Harry shivered when a cold wind blew into the shredded parts of the marquee and wondered how long he was going to be kept here.

"Cotter," an Auror called out.

She and Harry discovered two Aurors holding a chained wizard; a bearded Death Eater, slightly older than Harry was.

"I'm treating this boy first—"

"You haven't got a choice!" the grey-haired Auror spat, making Harry raise an eyebrow. "We're taking him to Nurmengard and we haven't got time."

Cotter placed the cap back on the salve, and wiped her hands before placing the sheets over Harry's shoulders. But Harry couldn't help himself and he sat up to watch.

Healers were bustling about the crowded hospital, some almost tripped over as they hurried to save lives. Cotter weaved her way through a group of grief-stricken family members, before she stood in front of the Auror. Then they forced the Death Eater into the chair.

Cotter and the boy stared at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity. She took a step back, as though not believing her very eyes. There was a peculiar furrow on the Healer's brow, while the boy glared at her, with an intermittent twitch in his jaw. Finally, she slowly, but hesitantly touched his cheek. Abruptly, the boy jumped up, knocking back his chair and spat in her face.

The Grey-haired Auror backhanded the boy, and they whisked him away, leaving Cotter in a dazed and confused state with the spittle on her face.

Harry almost made it out of bed, wanting to help her when two Healers appeared out of nowhere. "Don't you worry about her, Potter," a plump elderly Healer said. His gharly hands reopened the salve.

"Yeah, but—!"

"Rest."

The other Healer pointed her wand between his eyes and Harry fell asleep.

Harry felt a cool, salty spray on his face. He opened his eyes and found himself on the ledge of a cliff, overlooking a rocky shore. The waves beneath were hitting the sharp rocks hard. The water was tinged red and it plumed out as the waves retreated.

Curious, Harry looked over and gasped. Bodies were everywhere: boys and girls. These were the Conditioned who chose death rather than to serve Voldemort.

He took a step backwards and jolted when someone familiar spoke.

"We're all given choices. Some are easier than others," Dumbledore said. "But occasionally, the choices we make are taken away from us." He too gazed at the bodies, before catching Harry's eye.

"Professor…"

Dumbledore seemed ethereal, younger in a way. Harry was momentarily lost for words. His white beard was immaculate and bright, while his robes glittered in a dark red.

"Your Mirror's choice was taken away at this cliff." Dumbledore frowned and seemed very troubled. "It would've been his last act of defiance and of control over his own life."

"I know."

Dumbledore nodded. "He knew Draco, a boy skewed by his upbringing and those surrounding him, was the better man. He knew Draco would've helped end the war without him. Harry had suffered greatly, but he finally realised what he had done wrong, and the only way he could've won was to die."

"But Draco saved him," Harry whispered.

"Yes, because friendship is just as powerful as your Mirror's choice had been. Draco had the faith that his friend would change and that he would defeat Voldemort."

The old wizard seemed so sad. Harry knew he was experiencing turmoil over Grindelwald and their decisions as well.

"I know all this."

"I just want you to know, that I've been by your side for the entire journey... every step of the way. Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've felt your anger and fear with you. I have cried and felt joy with you. And your determination… I urged you on, Harry."

"Sir, why are we here?" Harry asked, hearing the waves crash against the cliff.

"It is because in the next few days and weeks you will be faced with a great many dilemmas…"

"I'm going home," Harry replied.

"Even that will be a hard choice you'll face…" Dumbledore nodded. "Harry, do you remember the snitch you have?"

"I open at the close."

"Don't open it before facing Voldemort." Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "You don't need to anymore. When I gave it to you, I knew that you would have to destroy the Horcrux within you. What is hidden in the Snitch would've given you peace and that extra bit of courage. That is in abundance now. You are ready to end this war."

"Wait," Harry said in confusion, "you're my Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Harry," he replied softly. "I'm so very proud of you and so heartbroken… but this world and your experience here had helped you grow into a better man." He turned around and walked off, his white beard swaying in the breeze.

"Is this a dream, or am I really seeing you?"

"That too is a decision you need to make yourself, Harry. Am I or am I not?"

It was almost midnight when he woke up with a splitting headache. Cotter was there, ready to hand him a glass of water. Her plain face showed no emotion again.

"Kingsley will be moving you shortly. Your Mirror family were moved hours ago. Before that the Ministry Heads want to know everything."

Harry nodded. The orange salve was gone, and his burns mostly healed, leaving an orange tinge on his skin. "That Death Eater…"

She took away the glass and sat back in her chair. The entire hospital was in silence, and there was markedly much less people and patients around.

"He was my son."

"Was?"

"You're hair will grow back by the morning," she replied, skirting the question.

"We've known each other for awhile, Agnes," Harry said. "You know everything about me. Give me something back."

That furrow appeared again.

"Why do you consider him dead?"

She smoothed his bed sheets and was hesitant to start the conversation for a long while. Just when Harry was about to give up she finally spoke.

"My husband was interested in Muggle weapons. You-Know-Who wanted his expertise to turn them into magical items to eventually take over the Muggles with, and vice versa."

Harry remembered seeing the Death Eater army on television carrying their machine guns, which were no doubt their wands in disguise. "Your family was a target."

She nodded. "He refused and we were hunted. We had four children." She smiled. "My three boys… and my baby daughter was a week old when they attacked us." Her voice quivered.

Harry held his breath. "What happened?"

"When they attacked, I held her in my arms, tightly, and my three year old boy held onto to me." She placed her shaking hands on her chest, as though she was holding her baby. "I wasn't going to let them go… My husband pushed the children into the room with me, and protected us. We were going to Floo… it would be much less dangerous on a newborn than other means. But the Death Eaters disabled the network," she gulped. "They stormed into the room, and they… they cursed me through the window. I fell, holding onto Holly and Max. When I came to, my baby… she… she had passed. And… and Max too. He didn't die in the fall. Gr-Greyback..." Cotter covered her eyes and sobbed.

Harry reached out, but Cotter shrugged away. "What happened to your other children?"

"The Carrows. They used them against my husband, forcing him to work for You-Know-Who, before he killed himself." She wiped her tears away. "My eldest, Jake, jumped when he faced the Cliff of Mercy, and who you saw today was Alexander."

Harry was totally lost for words, but managed to whisper, "I'm so sorry."

"I stole potions to heal people afraid to seek medical assistance at St Mungo's. I stole ingredients for Polyjuice to make my own batch. I occasionally pretended to be known Death Eaters, hoping to find my missing children and husband. Eventually, I discovered what they'd become, and I gave up."

"Maybe, maybe Alexander will change."

"Alexander isn't like your Mirror, Harry," she grimaced. "They're all gone. Alex is just as dead as the rest of my family is." She wiped her tears away. "Get some clothes on, Potter. Kingsley will be here in a minute."

After Harry was escorted back to Remus's he spoke with the Ministry Heads, showing them his memories in the Pensieve. His story started the moment he arrived in this world, and his conversation turned to everything his Mirror had done. By the time he had finished talking, it was dawn.

Kingsley squeezed his shoulder. "I'll be back in a few hours," he whispered. "Stay within the property boundaries."

"I will," he replied, closing the front door.

The entire house was filled with a lot of snoring. Many people were sleeping in the living room. Some slept in the kitchen and even in the corridors, draped in only their cloaks for warmth.

Harry tiptoed past them and sat on the backyard bench, watching the sun rise above the crumbled tents strewn all over the muddy ground. By the time the goat, covered in bloodied mud was eating whatever was left of Remus's wilting vegetables, Harry decided to venture back into the house and into the living room.

Ron was sleeping on the ground with Hermione in his arms. James was sprawled over an armchair, and curled up on the floor of the living room was Michael and Christopher and a hand full of other Order members. They were having a bit of peace and badly needed rest. Lily wasn't in the room. Harry opened the curtains wide, bathing the room in bright morning light.

He ran his hand through his hair, which had thankfully regrown after Grindelwald's cataclysmic demise. He felt like shit, but he was alive and was so lightened, so free. Then a feeling an anxiousness overcame him. He wanted to laugh, as morbid amusement washed over him. I'm going home to another war...

James jerked awake, and blearily realised Harry was too.

"Morning—You're back!"

"Yeah." He heard the floorboards creaking upstairs, and thought Remus had finally gotten out of bed. "How are you?"

"Okay," James yawned. He hissed in agony as he got up, falling in line with Harry and stared out the window and into the yard. Harry heard two people talking outside. He frowned. Snape was strolling along with Lily. Harry tensed as James scowled.

"I'm going outside," James said, snarling.

"Why? So you can march over and kill Snape for talking with your wife?'

"Maybe!" James hissed, walking out.

Ron shot up, making Hermione jerk awake. "Wazgoin—?"

"James!"

Michael jumped up, his auburn hair standing in every angle. "Are we being attacked."

"There'll be a battle if we don't stop your dad!" Harry growled, following his Mirror father.

Rushing in to the backyard, James whipped out his wand. "I don't know if you've noticed, Snape, but I'm not dead yet, so stop gallivanting around with my wife!" he bellowed. Sparks shot out of his wand.

Snape crossed his arms and sighed. "Shame—"

"Don't you two start!" Lily yelled, jumping between them.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

"James, please. I don't have the energy to have stupid fights!"

"Then why wasn't I invited to this impromptu Death Eater—slash—Order cooperation meeting?"

"That's unfair, I wanted you to rest!" Lily said, her eyes blazing in anger.

"And what about you?"

She winced and her hand touched the tender spot where she had been stabbed. Her eyes welled with tears and she turned away from them, sobbing. "We-we have more information about our son!"

"We're talking about what is being done to your son's body," Snape replied oily.

Harry sat down. He felt as though a hand was gripping his heart.

James pursed his lips, then giving in, stashed his wand away. "Talk."

"Grindelwald may have wanted to conduct experiments, but the Death Eaters will use him for darker reasons."

"Are you sure?" James's anger quickly morphed into concern. Snape nodded in turn. "Do you know who would've taken him?"

"A few of the Seniors are still unaccounted for; Barty crouch, Priscott, Dolohov and Kahane disappeared… many of the older Conditioned have vanished too. It could be anyone," Snape answered. "Throughout the night, Death Eaters in Europe have conducted attacks on both Muggles and wizards. They are angry and lost."

"Why would they take him?" James sat down on the bench, right next to Harry. Around them, Ron and Hermione had paled and Michael looked sick to his stomach.

Then Snape locked his eyes on James's. Harry thought that in that instant their animosity and hatred had disappeared.

"They may want to desecrate his body, mutilate him. Perhaps even turn him into an Inferi… use him to punish us."

"Oh god," Lily said covering her mouth.

Ron made a strange throaty sound.

"The war is over," Michael said.

"We won't be safe for a long time yet. It may take a couple of generations before we can experience peace and weed out the enemy. Until then, there will be reprisals and secret underground groups continuing to fuel pureblood propaganda," Snape said.

"His staunchest followers will want revenge," James sighed.

"Yes, twenty-eight years of cemented ideas will not disappear overnight, Potter, especially for the Conditioned. Remember, they were tortured and brainwashed into submission. They believe that there are the righteous."

Harry turned away, seeing his Mirror parents so grief-stricken was unbearable.

"What if they want his body to try and bring him back, more than just an Inferi?" Hermione pondered out loud. "I mean many Death Eaters thought he was going to be the next Dark Lord—"

"Delusional, but yes, you're right Granger," Snape conceded. "There is any number of things they would want to do with Potter, but I suggest you all prepare for the worst possible outcome. We may find him… or not. But knowing some of these wizards, I'm sure whatever they will do will be made public soon." Snape looked at them all, giving Harry the longest quizzical stare.

James bowed his head and started sobbing. Lily rushed to him into his arms. Years of grief, of fear and terror just exploded.

Harry now felt as though he was intruding on their mourning. "Let's go," he said to Ron and Hermione.

"Me and Chris will stay here," Michael said. "We want to be with our parents."

Harry nodded. It was time to back away. It was time to distance himself from the world's issues, even though his Mirror's body was missing. He was gone.

Before he had the chance to walk into the house, Snape cornered him. "I want a word with you," he drawled.

Harry hesitated.

Snape stalked off with a limp, and Harry quickly followed. "What do you want now?"

When they were far from the house and near the shed where Snape had began training him. "You really need to go back to your world."

"I know that—"

"Straight away," he implored. "You're still in danger."

Harry breathed in deeply. "I can't just leave without saying goodbye, you know."

Snape's dark eyes roved around the property, before he began to pace.

"What else do you want to say to me?" Harry asked.

"I… I…" He closed his mouth and scowled. "Just get out of my sight."

Harry could've argued, but he really didn't feel like picking Snape's brain. He scooted off, until he heard him again. "Potter."

"Yes?"

"When you go back just… just give my Mirror a chance to explain himself."

Without another word, Harry watched Snape disappear into the mist.

Back in his bedroom, which Remus had destroyed, Harry began gathering his things.

"Is there anything I can do?' Hermione asked, wringing her hands.

Harry simply shook his head as he sat on the bed and started to fish out his memories from Dumbledore's Pensieve. Every time the gossamer strand touched his temple, he had a flash of the memory and felt a little more complete than before.

"I'm good, thanks." He closed his eyes as he remembered meeting his Mirror for the very first time.

Ron sat down beside him, wincing in pain. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"Don't do this to me now, Ron." Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "It's hard enough just packing."

"I know you can't stay, but don't go right now." Hermione bent over and placed a scroll into his backpack. "This is the improved Polyjuice Potion recipe."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, it'll help a lot." He looked up was taken aback by their tired, sad faces.

"Stay a couple of days, mate," Ron pleaded, "Just until things calm down a bit."

Harry remembered his recent dream with Dumbledore. He didn't expect that all of a sudden leaving this world would be the hardest thing he would have to do. But he had to do it. He was going to miss everyone; his Mirror parents and his new friends and family. But this wasn't his home and to stay would mean he would fail.

He sat back defeated. He was exhausted. "Snape told me to leave."

"Trust me," Hermione began, "you'll wear yourself out if you don't."

She was right, but it was so hard because that cold, dark feeling of his friends suffering back in his world was suffocating him.

OMG two more chapters left!

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53. Ouroboros

Ouroboros

Dumbledore was right.

Every thought and doubt about leaving this world had sprung forth from the inner recesses of Harry's mind. He felt like he was pulled into every direction and it was beginning to rip him apart. He wanted to go home, he wanted to fight, but another part of him wanted to stay. What if he did do that?

Harry had faith that Neville would win the fight against Voldemort. His friends would move on and so would his world. However, at what price? He wasn't a coward and he wasn't a failure. Harry would never forgive himself if he stayed.

He was merely a visitor in this Mirror Universe. His time was up. Tomorrow would be the day he'd return home. He couldn't lie to himself that he wasn't nervous or even a little fearful because a lot would've changed back home, just as he had experienced within himself.

For two days after the battle Harry had listened to stories of elation and of sadness as people constantly called in to visit. He watched his pale Mirror parents, desperate for news of their son's missing body, huddle over maps and messages, being comforted by the Order members.

As Harry reached out to offer Lily a shoulder to cry on, he wondered if perhaps, he should help search for his Mirror's corpse. No! Your place here is over.

Avoiding the temptation to see his newfound friends and family he decided to stay quietly in his bedroom on the third day, post battle. Seeing the people he had grown to care and love in this world would keep him glued to this world. The less I of see everyone, the better, Harry thought.

He carefully sat down in his armchair, wincing in pain, before he picked up the first issue of the newly resurrected Daily Prophet from the previous day.

VICTORY! THE WAR IS OVER!

Harry just stared at the pictures of ecstatic Aurors and wizards hugging and yelling into the camera, and parents being reunited with their conditioned children. There were fireworks in the sky over every part of Britain, some spelling out the words, WE WON! The new Prime Minister was shaking Amelia Bones's hand vigorously, and the Prophet even showed images of joyous Muggles too.

Then the news grew grim. He turned over the pages of the enormously thick paper. THOUSANDS IN MOARNING… DEATH EATERS ATTACKING ERUOPE… IMPERIOUS CURSE ON MUGGLES GONE, LEAVING MANY DEAD.

His eyes roved over to an image of hundreds of lines of perfectly lined up corpses in the grounds of the smoking castle and an old man crying over one of the bodies. In other pictures, Auror were riffling through the bodies of Death Eaters trying to identify them, or Aurors herding a long procession of Death Eaters to Nurmengard.

Then there were stories of the battle and heroic acts during it as well.

GRINDELWALD DESTROYED BY THE MIRROR. Harry groaned. He grimaced as he glared at the picture of Grindelwald's smoking rebirth in his new form as a Dementor.

His mind focused on an earlier article two pages before.

THE DARK LORD IS DEAD!

Harry focused on an image of the The Chamber of Secrets with Voldemort's body in the centre of a bloody circle. The ash from the Obsidian Stitch was floating above him. Harry finally gave in to his curiosity and began reading the article. While the article didn't mention the Horcruxes, it did say that he had done a lot to ensue immortality and that his Mirror had thought of ways to destroy him.

Stay tuned for the next edition of the Prophet. We will focus on You-Know-Who's history, how he shaped our lives for the last 28 years and the people who were destined to destroy him, the paper promised. We will also examine his final demise and the strange dagger that killed him.

He flicked the page over.

HARRY POTTER'S BODY STILL MISSING!

Harry was startled out of his thoughts when a dark figure entered the room. He was suddenly reminded of his Mirror, until he realised the figure was Emily Miles.

"I thought you'd be gone already," she said softly, pulling her brown plait over her shoulder. "Snape sent me here to check."

"Soon." Harry dropped his gaze over his Mirror's scowling picture under that bold headline. "What are we going to do about Harry?"

"We?" She flicked up an eyebrow and moved away to the window. "Let's just get a few things straight," she began. Harry sighed and waited for the girl to continue. "One: You're overdue to go home. You're not needed anymore."

Harry responded loudly, "I was due home the moment I landed in this damn universe! Thanks for using me though—!"

"Two: Harry's missing corpse isn't your concern," she droned.

"But—"

"It's just a body. He's gone. And if you don't go soon, they'll hunt for you next. They're already planning ways to capture you."

She cared about him, cared enough to get him back to his own world and she was right, Harry's body was nothing now but rotting flesh and bones. But this was his Mirror, himself. And he knew James and Lily would be devastated if their son wasn't laid to rest.

"Tomorrow. I'm definitely going tomorrow at dawn." Harry nodded. "I made up my mind. It's just sometimes I have a little bit of doubt."

"Doubt makes us human," Emily reassured, and then she held out her hand.

"So… this is it," Harry smiled as he shook it.

"This is definitely it!"

After she left, Harry picked the paper up again. There was a list of all the dead from both sides of the war and articles on the lives of all the people in the Ministry who were instrumental in finishing the war, both alive and dead. As Harry continued immersing himself in the paper, he found the articles of all the Senior Death Eaters and the Notorious Thirteen. The second edition of the paper also promised more information on all of them, the detailed accounts from their victims and their sickening crimes.

Harry stared at their headshots and stopped for a moment when he found Greyback's scowling picture, before turning the page to find Bellatrix's heavily hooded eyes glaring back at him. I hope you all rot in hell!

He read the article, holding the paper in clenched hands and when he got to the bottom of the page he smiled as there was a small picture of Bellatrix, straitjacketed in a small padded cell of Nurmengard, screaming at the ceiling.

The Daily Prophet then focused on Dumbledore, the old Minister and the new. Kingsley and Gawain Robards had a piece each and it also mentioned Snape and Emily Miles, however Harry was surprised that in the whole paper thus far, there had only been minor mentions of his Mirror, that was until he flipped over a few more papers and found his picture, an old mugshot of the seventeen year old in Azkaban, covering the majority of the page. Harry held his breath and read the article.

THE DARK MAGE WHO SAVED US!

With his heart thumping in his ears, Harry skimmed the article… The deeply troubled teen was rumoured to have had two prophecies in the Department of Mysteries… was working with Dumbledore until he ordered the boy to join the Death Eaters… only then did his power corrupt him… In the next edition we focus on Dumbledore's decision to force the boy to become a Death Eater and how he was eventually conditioned.

While he was all for the Prophet giving the population the shallow version of their stories, he knew in the next few days the stories would become darker, gorier and scandalous. But these reporters didn't factor in the human response and the errors that everyone faced in these scenarios. They didn't know how they'd truly react under the pressure that Dumbledore and his Mirror faced.

The article wasn't all sugar coated gloom. It did say how his Mirror had changed, saved many, destroyed Voldemort's power and had created spells to fake the deaths of innocents.

Then Harry himself was mentioned. Of course, if it wasn't for his Mirror turning up in this world, the boy may never have changed and this war would be still continuing. In the next edition we focus on both these boys' lives and their families and friends and the ways they won this war.

Harry chuckled humourlessly. What the hell did the Prophet know about his life? He closed the paper and shoved it into his backpack to take home.

He stretched his legs as the afternoon sun cast an orange haze over the sky. The Yorkshire Dales was looking brighter and clearer. The mist was starting to thin now as Dementors without Voldemort's protection sought refuge in the darkest corners of the world.

There was a knock before Remus limped into the room and gingerly sat on the bed, holding onto the Prophet's second edition from that morning.

"Here…" He placed the heavy paper into Harry's hands. "Don't read it now. You er, might want to read it was a big glass of firewhisky on hand."

He rolled his eyes. "That bad is it?"

"Well at least Rita Skeeter didn't write anything, so we can relax a bit."

Harry focused on the five images on the front page: his Mirror, Voldemort, Grindelwald, Dumbledore and Scrimgeor. THE CLASHING FACTIONS WHO SHAPED OUR MODERN HISTORY!

"What happened to Skeeter?"

"She was squashed in her Animagus form a few years back."

Harry held the paper tightly. "Nasty."

Remus pointed at the front page. "There might be a sprinkle of exaggeration in places, but for the most part, it's pretty accurate, which is saying something. Amelia Bones likes cold, hard facts. She warned the Prophet to keep things clean or she'd shut them down."

Harry nodded. "What's it say about me?"

"Not much. The Ministry Heads censored a lot of your personal information for your protection."

Harry quickly flipped through the pages, catching glimpses of headlines and pictures. Snape and Kirkhope popped up midway in along with a few other Aurors. Parts of their faces were blacked out to protect their identities. OUR HEROIC DOUBLE AGENTS...

Then there were pictures of many of the conditioned; Emily, Draco, even Blaise Zabini appeared under the heading, THE DEFIANT CONDITIONED.

Harry shook his head and placed the paper by his side which was as thick and big as his Portkey book.

"I told you, you'll need some Firewhiskey to read that thing," Remus said softly.

"By the time the Prophet's gotten bored with all these war stories we'd all be alcoholics."

They sat there quietly as the sun drifted below the horizon. The red glow was hitting their faces, and threw shadows on the hollows of their cheeks. They looked exhausted and Remus appeared much older than he was.

"It's the first time in a decade we can see a proper sunset," the werewolf remarked, warming his hands between his knees. His shoulders drooping a little as the red glow dimmed and darkness crept into the room.

"Slowly things will change for the better."

Nodding, Remus fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"I, er, heard some of the Order are making dinner tonight…" Harry said, clearing his throat.

"A special dinner for you," he answered, "a farewell..."

"I see," Harry whispered, quietly trying to fit the paper into his already filled backpack. "Will, er, the Potters be here?"

"No. They're just scared that they'd make the situation harder for you… and for them."" Remus replied, but then hesitated to continue.

"What is it?"

The werewolf shook his head and smiled. "Nothing…" he answered.

Harry nodded as he finished his packing. He was relieved Remus didn't say what he wanted to. Harry was tired and he didn't want to hear all the pleas to stay and the apologies. Instead he said, "I have no idea how losing my parents a second time is going to hit me."

"They'll be losing their son as well again," Remus said quietly. "Look, why don't we go downstairs now? Ron and Tony have got the butterbeer warming by the fire, Ashley is decorating the table with Luna, while Malfoy's being a lazy arse ordering people around, and Kingsley has managed not to burn the appetisers."

"Kingsley is cooking?" Harry snorted.

"Yes," Remus laughed, "and Kirkhope and Hermione are desecrating the lamb roast. I'll have to go back down and save the potatoes. James will be mortified if he ever finds out."

Harry relaxed. "Sounds… great."

"The last thing you need is a bunch of sorry people trying to hold you back."

Even though they were all in mourning and the cooking was barely average, dinner was a bittersweet event filled with stories, great laughter and tears. They all sat there recounting a funny story about Snape during a Potions class, and Harry stared at each of their faces, lingering for a moment on the Pettigrew children, smiling, with an overriding feeling that this was definitely the end of his journey in this world. They all roared with laughter as Kirkhope's story concluded, slopping their butterbeers or whiskey, but Harry just smiled. He was in a happy place, despite the circumstances and he was finally going home.

Harry pulled on his backpack, pocketed his wand and things and placed that Portkey book under his arm. He triple checked the bedroom, making sure he had everything and then took one last look around, drinking in all the bedrooms features, from the polka dot quilts to the Quidditch posters on the wall.

Ron cleared his throat at the doorway. "Have you reconsidered?" he asked morosely.

"A million times, but I'm ready now," Harry replied as he wrapped his Mirror's old Gryffindor scarf around his neck. "I don't belong here."

"I know," he rasped. "It's just I lost him, and now I'm losing you too."

"I'll be reminded of you every time I see Ron," Harry smiled. "Thank you for your friendship."

"Same." He bowed his head. "I won't come down with you. I might end up holding you back or something." He lightly punched Harry's arm before he pulled him into a tight one-armed hug, only letting go after a long reflective moment.

Harry walked over threshold, holding his breath. Why does this have to be so hard?

"Hey," the red-head called out, "give Ron my love."

Harry laughed. "Has anyone ever said that you love yourself too much?"

And with one last look at Mirror Ron's wide grin, Harry left the bedroom. Hermione was outside. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"Are you all right?" he said, rubbing her shoulder.

She nodded. "We're going to be okay. We all are." She embraced him tightly. "Stay safe." She forced herself loose with a sniffle, before disappearing into the bedroom, most likely to find comfort with Ron.

"Bye…" Harry whispered. He headed to the stairs, but Ashley rushed out of her room with her brother on toe. "DON"T GO, HARRY!" she cried.

Tears trickled down her little round face and Harry was almost thrown to the ground when she flung her arms around his waist. She sobbed in earnest. "Don't go."

Harry shrugged himself lose and knelt down. He gripped her shoulders and looked into her blue eyes. "I can't stay any longer, Ash."

She wiped her nose. "I'll miss you."

"Me too. I'll think about you two every day." He had known that saying his goodbyes to the Pettigrew was going to hit him hard.

"I-I made you a going away present, Harry."

"Yeah, she worked on it all night," Tony said.

The little girl fumbled about as she pulled out a piece of parchment from her folder, a drawing of several figures all smiling and waving. "It's all of us together. Me and Tony and Remus, and your friends and family, so you don't forget us." She bit her bottom lip. "I hope you like it."

"It's beautiful." Harry held onto the drawing. "I'm going to treasure this." He pulled the little girl close, and kissed her forehead before he ruffled up Tony's hair. "Come on, let's go downstairs."

Walking down seemed like an eternity and his heart beat drummed in his ears. Besides having the most horrendous experience here, he did have some good memories from the people who cared about him.

He entered the living room and didn't expect to find a large group of people there.

A big glittering sign hovered over the fireplace: Farewell Harry and Good luck. Beneath it, Kingsley, Amelia Bones and McGonagall stood. Hagrid was there, doubled over as he was too high for the ceiling. He blew his nose. Sulking in the corner was Draco Malfoy and a very weak Zabini. Remus, Cotter and Luna waved at him while the surviving Weasleys put on their brave faces. And the Potters, they were there too, wiping away tears. Harry looked away quickly, blinking fast.

"Hey Harry," said George. "Check out the sign."

Fred grinned alongside him as the sign changed with a flick of his wand.

KICK VOLD-IE-POOP'S ARSE!

Cotter placed a recipe for the Tantibus Mentis Potion into his bag and salves for his cursed wounds. "Make sure you see a Healer quick smart when you get back." She shook his hand tightly. "Good luck."

Harry smiled. "Thanks for looking after me."

Cotter patted his shoulder. "Don't get yourself killed."

"I'll try my best."

Then Michael nudged past his mother. "Hey…"

"Hey back."

"Er… you're a cool guy." Michael punched his arm, and ruffled up his auburn hair as he searched for words.

"What he means to say, is that he'll miss you," Christopher translated.

"Will you just shut up!" Michael spat.

Harry grinned. "You know, I think I might too. I'll miss being annoyed by you."

The boy sheepishly shrugged, "that's why little brothers are awesome."

Harry turned to Christopher. "Make sure you give him hell for me." The youngest brother winked back.

Harry said his goodbyes. Ashley took the longest to break away from. She pleaded for him to stay again, before Tony helped her let go.

Malfoy handed him a pink envelope which smelt of roses. For Potter, it read.

Harry furrowed his brow at the stupid luridly coloured envelope. "What's this for?" he asked curiously.

"It pissed Harry off every time I sent him a letter. Just open it when you get back home. You'll get some closure," he whispered.

Closure? Before he could ask, James gripped his shoulder. "You gotta' go. We've kept you here long enough."

Harry turned to Remus and clasped his hands. "Thanks for your hospitality. And you're right, your Yorkshire puddings are definitely better than James's."

"I take offence to that!" James grinned.

Remus hugged him one last time, his eyes teary now.

And finally, he turned to his Mirror parents. It was the moment he had been dreading. Their goodbyes were silent ones, and their hugs the longest. Harry felt Jame's sobs through his body and Lily's fingers grip his shoulders.

"Ca-can you open that Portkey book now?" Lily whispered.

"I hope so," his throat was suddenly so tight. Harry pulled out the Portkey book from his backpack and with bated breath he slowly opened it. The pages were filled with his history, right until the very last page, with only a little bit left to write in. Harry closed it after placing the envelope in it and ran his thumb on the cover.

Oe Fo Irbil… He noticed something, a drop of dried blood on it just below the title.

"Wait," Lily said, breaking away from James.

Harry closed his eyes. He was afraid that taking another look at her might make him lose all resolve. He was going to miss her so much.

"Look at me," she said in a tiny whisper. Her fingers brushed over his face. Harry shook his head, gripping the book.

"I can't."

"Please… just one last time."

Harry inhaled deeply and threw his determination into the wind. He opened them to stare deeply into his mother's watery green eyes.

"I'm so proud you," she whispered, "I want you to know that."

"I know."

"Harry, I wish…"

"Don't say it." He shook his head. "Just remember that I'm really, really happy I had a chance to speak to you, to hug you… to just be with you and James. I'll treasure the moments always."

Lily pressed a photo into his hands. A photo of all seven Potters together, when they were whole and sort of happy.

"Thanks. Thanks… Mum."

She burst into tears and embraced him again for a long lingering moment that Harry wished would never end.

"Mummy."

They pulled apart.

Jessica who had been half hiding behind her mother, decided to finally peek out. Her green eyes were rather reproachfully.

"Do you want to say goodbye, sweetheart?" Lily smiled sadly. Harry knew Jessica wasn't coping well. He hoped that one day she could move on. The little girl nodded.

"Bye Jessica," he said.

"Okay…" she replied. "Bye."

Lily sighed and kissed his cheek. Her tears cooled on his skin.

"Lily, he needs to go," James whispered. He grinned at Harry. "Good luck, son." He pulled Harry into his arms. "You know, you can come back if you want."

Harry nodded, but he wasn't sure if he'd ever want to. He had his own life to forge.

James let go and turned his back on Harry, pinching the top of his nose.

The Potters had lost one son, and now they were sort of losing another.

"Are you ready?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, very." Harry picked a scab from his hand as everyone watched on. He could hear Ashley and Lily sniffling. He positioned his bleeding hand on the cover.

One dark crimson drop fell, then another. Then the third fell.

The book glowed a vivid dark blue and began to hover. He breathed in deeply, and looked at all their faces one last time. And lastly, he looked at his Mirror parents, holding on to each other, reminiscent of the old picture of them Harry had treasured since he was eleven. Their faces glowed with so much love and grief.

James winked back. "Kick Voldemort straight to hell!"

"I will!"

And on cue, he touched the Portkey.

Before he could get out a word, he was pulled in by a hook like sensation around his belly and his world whirled around. He had forgotten what the travel felt like the first time around.

Amidst the assault on his senses, he heard Lily yell. "WE LOVE YOU!"

Me too. I love you all...

It was loud and suffocating and the travel was long.

And then there was silence.

Harry stumbled. His knees weakened and he fell to the ground, still clutching the book. His heart was thumping again and his back stung. Harry cried out in shock and in fear as he heard the echoing drips of water fall all around him.

Please let it have worked. Please, please, please!

Then he noticed a cool strange mist hit his body. Harry opened his eyes to darkness and held a breath.

With a click of his fingers fire sprang forth and he saw that he was in that strange chamber in the Giants Cut, surrounded by floating books and that blue mist. He wriggled his fingers.

He felt almost faint and wobbled til he felt the wall for support. It was cool and slimy and blue crystals glittered around him. Harry fell slowly to the ground, numb for a few moments until finally he let out a sob, then a laugh and then a sob again, not sure whether he should cry, laugh or do both. He was back home. I'm home. I'm fucking home!

This was where his journey had started. This is where his nightmare began.

"I'M HOME!" He yelled, his echoes disappearing into the darkness. I'm home to another nightmare. Fantastic!

He was going to throw the book into the air again, hoping to never see it again, but no… he decided to keep it. It was his book. It was a part of his life now that he could never escape from.

He was elated and then doubt crept in. Several what if scenarios slithered into his mind. What if the book sent him back to the wrong world?

"No… mustn't think that." Harry got up, jerking his hand; he extinguished the light and walked out of the chamber and the thin entrance of the crevice. The wind was ferocious, just as it had been when he had first arrived here with Ron and Hermione. The cold and snow whipped through his hair, he breathed inthe freezing air, knowing for sure he was definitely in the right place.

He turned around and stared at the entrance to Rowena Ravenclaw's cave. And in the darkness, his thoughts were on his Mirror friends and family he had left behind.

Goodbye.

Harry Disapparated to Shell Cottage.

He landed on a beach and found a small cottage on a hill with smoke coming from its chimney; its inhabitants probably getting up for breakfast around about now.

Harry ran on the sand, through the icy spray of sea water and the howl of the wind, and then knocked furiously on the door, where a huge Christmas wreath hung. He was hardly able to contain his excitement. His fear and nerves were forgotten now.

"Hang on, hang on," Harry heard someone say on the other side. He sounded like Bill.

The door creaked open and Bill's mouth dropped. Suddenly his wand was in Harry's face.

"Er… Hi," Harry greeted hesitantly.

Bill's eyes were wide as he looked Harry up and down and curtly asked, "What was my sister's present for your seventeenth birthday?"

"Bit personal isn't that?" Harry asked in surprise. "She snogged me."

The door flung open and Bill yanked him in. He looked at Harry again, giving him a lop-sided grin making his scars deepen. He then pulled him into a hug so tight it knocked the wind out of Harry.

"So fucking glad you're back mate! Best. Ever. Christmas Present!" He looked back over his shoulder. "RON—HERMIONE—FLUER! GUESS WHO'S BACK?" But he still held his wand into Harry's face.

There several footsteps and then sharp inhales of breath.

"Ha-Harry?" said Ron.

Hermione fell back into the shadows, almost fainting. "Oh Harry!" she yelped.

"Finally!" Fleur exasperated.

Harry laughed. "Yep, it's me."

Then suddenly all he saw was Hermione's bushy hair as she jumped on him and Ron's arms around him. They were yelling and whoops of glee all around and they all fell onto the porch. Laughing and crying.

Harry still couldn't believe this was real; he touched Hermione's cheeks which were wet with tears. Just under an hour ago he was with her Mirror. They were the same, but so different. She smiled gently and her warm hand covered his. "Oh Harry, you're back!"

He wanted to tell them how much he missed them, how happy he was to see them again, but all that came out were tears of joy and heartache, and Harry just buried his head into her shoulder and let it all out.

He didn't even notice Ron patting his back as they scrambled upright.

"Are you all right, mate?" he said.

Two seconds later, there were three pops. Kingsley was there, then McGonagall, and lastly Flitwick appeared via Side-Along Apparition with Snape. Harry's mind turned to stone. He tensed as Snape shrugged himself off of his colleague.

McGonagall gasped, Flitwick toppled over and Snape… he just narrowed his eyes.

Hermione gently squeezed his arm in reassurance.

"We just got news—" Kingsley's jaw dropped. "The tracker went off."

"My idea," beamed Hermione.

Everyone looked at each other nervously. "So I guess you all now know where I've been." They nodded as Harry felt for his wand, refusing to look away from Snape's sallow face.

But the Death Eater spoke first. "Before you even think about fighting me—"

"I know we're on the same side," Harry said through gritted teeth. "But in a while, I would like to know how you managed to worm your way back to the Order while I've been away."

"Er… yeah… long story that," said Ron scratching the back of his head.

"Longbottom approached me. In fact he tried to harm me—he's still alive," Snape said smoothly. He flicked his robes back. "Now, we need to return to Hogwarts, before the Death Eaters find out a teacher is missing. Keep us informed," he said with a sharp nod at Kingsley.

McGonagall glared at Harry from above her square spectacles. She looked rather pale, and her arm in a sling. "Good to have you back, Potter. We'll need to chat. Neville has some interesting ideas you might want to learn about, which has to do with some secret escape entrances in the castle we've recently discovered."

"I know about them, very well. I used one a few days ago," Harry replied.

The professors seemed shocked and Snape was stunned when he couldn't penetrate the barrier Harry had put up in his mind.

Flitwick looked positively excited. "Potter, you will have to tell me everything about this Mirror Universe you were in. "

"Yeah we have a lot to talk about. A lot," Harry said. "I've just helped end a war back where I've been."

"How fascinating!" Flitwick beamed. "And I'm sure you'll use the experience there to help us."

"I hope so!"

"I have to go," Snape said, checking his watch. "Come on, Filius, we're running out of time before the Death Eaters realise you've escaped the castle." But McGonagall lingered, she looked strangely on guard and angry. Was she mad at Harry for leaving in the first place?

Flitwick and Snape Disapparated, but why was the Transfiguration professor still here? "Aren't you going back to Hogwarts?"

"I am a fugitive, Potter," she snapped back as she headed into the kitchen. They all followed her in.

Hermione bit her lip. "Professor McGonagall was caught helping a few Muggle-borns out of the Room of Requirement a week ago."

"I managed to escape after bringing down Amycus Carrow," she replied, swelling with pride. "But it now means my students and my house are exposed to monsters!"

"I'm so sorry," Harry said, feeling sick to his stomach.

"Yes, a lot has happened, but you've had a run through the mill as well. You've changed so much," Hermione said as a matter of fact, touching a new pink scar that was on his jawline and her fingers brushed over a few healing cuts and bruising from the battle he was in days before. She slowly observed his features. "And where are your glasses?"

"I don't need them for the moment."

They all sat at the table as Fleur dished out some biscuits and McGonagall helped her put the kettle on the boil.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and gulped. "I'll tell you everything, but right now, I really want to end this war, our war."

"Its more than just changed, Potter," McGonagall sniped. She flicked her wand, pouring boiling water into several teacups with teabags.

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

"You are not fine!" She barked. She pursed her lips and pointed. "My students are not either!"

"I'm sorry I haven't been here," Harry sighed.

"It isn't your fault. None of this is, but the truth of the matter is a lot has happened! Horrible things have occurred while you have-have obviously been through your own nightmare." McGonagall breathed deeply, her chest heaving in and out. "Dumbledore didn't prepare us, nor theorised any of this."

"Look, after everything I've seen, after everything I was put through, I never want our world to become like the one I just left. And it sounds like we're halfway down that road now. We have to finish this now before it gets worse!"

He realised how tired he was, even though he was well rested. But there was no time to sit idly and navel gaze, not until Voldemort was gone.

Harry took in a deep breath. "Tell me what's happened so far, and then I will tell you what we'll do next."

"It's bad," Ron frowned. "Kids are disappearing, and have been rumoured that they're becoming soldiers for You-Know-who."

"Entire families have been murdered and some have gotten killed at Hogwarts," McGonagall said. " Many Muggle-borns are on the run. And if they're caught, they are tortured and killed. While half-bloods and purebloods who are caught are turned into Death Eaters."

Harry closed his eyes thinking of all the children conditioned or killed in the world he had left. I can't let it happen here.

"You-Know-Who knows your missing. There have been some rumours that you've been killed, so he's taken advantage of it. After all, you've been gone for months and the Order is slowly being crushed."

Harry felt so sick hearing those words. "Who else has died or been captured since we last spoke?"

"Terry Boot and Oliver Wood died fighting. Alberforth Dumbledore was killed the same night I was caught," McGonagall answered. "He died in hope I'd escape Hogsmeade.

Harry cringed as Hermione continued.

"Dung…" Ron added.

Harry felt a jolt of guilt again at the mention of Dung's name.

"And Hagrid hasn't regained consciousness."

"No!" Harry gasped. "What—How?"

"He tried saving a few Centaurs when You-Know-Who burnt the Forbidden forest. He fell into a ravine. Firenze died when he fell in."

Harry was shaking in rage. None of this would've happened if he had never left. "Why would You-Know-Who burn the forest?"

"He felt it was a threat in case of ambushes, etc," Bill said. "The castle's had extra fortification since you've been gone."

This wasn't good. Harry let out a frustrated sigh.

"We think he's worried that you're up to something."

Harry scoffed. "You bet I am."

"He's very worried," replied Hermione. "He desecrated Dumbledore's tomb and stole his wand."

"The Elder wand." Ron shook his head in awe.

He focused on the others, spurring them on for more information. "Who has died?" Harry wanted to know how many he could've potentially saved if he had never been transported into a Mirror Universe.

Ron cleared his throat. "A lot… Lee Jordan, Alicia and a couple of Ravenclaws who failed to turn up to school died trying to rescue some Muggle-borns from a Death Eater's dungeon. They were tortured to death."

"Slughorn's missing," Bill frowned. "Dad, Luna, Ollivander and Dean Thomas are stll holed up somewhere."

In the silence, Harry realised he was gripping the edge of the table tightly. "What's happened with the Horcruxes?"

"Neville's destroyed the Diadem. It was in the room of requirement, like you said." Hermione answered. "Snape also told us that the snake never leaves You-Know-Who's side now." Her eyes momentarily flicked onto Harry's lightning bolt scar.

"Don't worry, Hermione it's been destroyed."

She inhaled deeply and tears welled into her eyes. Behind them, Ron exhaled loudly in relief.

"How long have you known?"

Hermione sighed. "For a good while now. I just didn't want to believe it."

Harry was relieved there was one less Horcrux to find in this world.

"There is, however more bad news," Kingsley spoke, crossing his arms. "Our Gringotts surveillance team has seen Bellatrix and several other Death Eaters gathering their belongings from their vaults. Bellatrix has made three trips in the last month and has pretty much cleaned out her vault."

"So… so you're telling me the cup is gone."

Ron and Hermione nodded grimly. "Sorry mate," Ron said.

"Well that's it then. He knows. If he's got the snake on a leash, and the cup he knows we destroyed the others." Harry was disappointed and angry.

"Look," Hermione sighed. "We only have two left and we are in a better position then we were months ago, sitting in a tent in Albania."

"That's very true," Harry conceded. "Where is You-Know-Who now?"

"Hogwarts, we think," Kingsley said.

"Okay, so where do you wanna' start?" Ron asked, smacking his hands together.

"We'll start by rescuing your father, Remus and Luna." They all agreed, before Harry continued, "okay, Draco said—"

"Draco?" Ron spat in surprise. Hermione cocked both her eyebrows.

Harry shook his head. "The Malfoys keep prisoners in the dungeon under the drawing room floor.

"See!" Ron smacked Hermione's arm and pointed a finger into his brother's face. "I told you guys so!"

Bill sighed, "Ron, do you know how incredibly dang—"

"It doesn't matter now! Harry's back."

"Er, yeah, let's start there," Harry pitched in. "Then we'll rally up everyone on our side, go to Hogwarts, surprise You-Know-Who and we'll end this bloody war… because, quite frankly, I've been through enough trouble to fill a thousand Mirror Universes!"

"And how exactly are you going to kill off one of the most powerful Dark Lords in history?" Bill asked.

"I've discovered a lot of stuff about myself in my wayward travels."

"Like what?"

"I am a Mage."

"Harry, that's imposs—"

"And I've already progressed through my first phase, and if I'm correct I've already entered my Red Phase."

They all looked at him as though he had gone mad. But Harry shrugged.

Hermione crossed her arms and her eyebrows shot up even further.

"Ma-mage?" Ron stumbled.

"Mate, I think you need some rest after your ordeal," Bill suggested.

Then Fleur interjected, "Let's just focus on ze other issues for ze moment."

"Hmm… well, Albus did once say that the potential was in the family," McGonagall pondered.

"Well why didn't he tell me?" Harry shot back in anger.

"Because he wanted to protect you."

"And that by far was his worst mistake."

"Harry!" admonished Hermione.

He calmed down, and thought about it a little more as images of his Mirror and Dumbledore crossed through his mind. "Some of it had been beneficial, but maybe he could've helped me a little more than just shield me."

Before anyone could speak, Harry continued. "Now, I want a few things happening in succession. If we plan things right, by tomorrow night, we'll have a full blown breach of the castle's defences and the Death Eaters stunned Vo—The Dark Lord won't know what hit him! I'm going to infiltrate as a Death Eater and I'm going to plant a decoy of myself. It's the only way I'll get close enough to the Horcruxes, because if he's paranoid, he will have the cup on him at all times and the Snake by his side."

McGonagall smiled deviously. "Well, let's start planning."

"Yeah," Kingsley pointed. "On the plus side, they'll all think the Order is weak at its knees."

"Great," Ron grinned. "What are we going to do about my dad? Because the only way to get into Malfoy Manor is to be a Death Eater or captured."

"We'll use Dobby. He'll still have access and he'll know where to go."

Kingsley drummed his fingers on the table. "I think it's time we finish this. We'll summon the Order here to attend a meeting in five minutes."

"Yeah, good idea," Bill nodded.

Harry felt energised and ready. He beamed with pride at each and every one of them. This is my family now.

"Where's that book you Protkeyed with?" Ron asked changing the subject. "I want to burn that thing."

"Nah, it's okay." Harry dumped it on the table with a bang.

"'Arry," Fleur said gently. "You dropped a letter."

The pink envelope had fluttered to the ground. He picked it up, and with shaking fingers opened it. There were no words, except for a hand drawn picture of a snake eating its own tail. He had seen this picture in the book The Secrets of Mage Lore and Wery Secret Rituals, though to this day he still hadn't finished reading the book in its entirety. Without Hermione's help, he discerned that it meant life, death, recreation, and being at one with nature and the universe. These ideas were in the grand scheme of things, one of fundamental importance to Mages.

Then it clicked in Harry's mind what it truly meant. He smiled as Bill smacked his hands together.

"Clear the table guys!" Bill ordered." We've got some planning to do!"

The End

JUST KIDDING!

I thought this was going to be the second last chapter, but no! The next chapter is titled, The Obsidian Stitch, and lastly the epilogue. I will try to get the last chapters done in the next month.

54. The Obsidian Stitch

The Obsidian Stitch

It was a rather dimly lit hallway of an abandoned Muggle house that Draco led Severus into. It was dark and desolate, except for a solitary floating candle. The house was falling to pieces, and Severus heard scurrying animals in the ceiling.

"Follow me, sir," Draco whispered as he opened the door of the basement.

For a moment, Severus hesitated, a deep dread filling the pit of his stomach. "What's the meaning of this?" he asked, "You haven't answered any of my questions throughout our journey here!"

"You'll find out in a moment." The pale furrow between Draco's brows relaxed slightly.

But Severus was far from relaxed as he followed the boy, his fingers grasping his wand in case. "You sent me an imbecilic message in the middle of the night—how do I know this isn't a trap—?" His words were cut short when he spotted the figures staring morosely at him; the Patil twins, Zabini, Granger, Weasley and Miles. As his feet touched the ground a tsunami of foreboding struck his heart.

"What's going on here?"

He glared into each and every face, the light of his wand, highlighting something much deeper than loss in their eyes. He saw hope, like a precious spark of fire made after scuffing two stones together. He focused on Emily but she turned away. Severus followed her gaze until he saw the table on the middle of the room and the cloak covered body that lay on top of it.

With a jaw clenched jaw, Severus swiftly moved over and pulled down the cloak down.

Potter was white in death, his features waxy with a tinge of blue. His eyes were closed and his mouth was partly opened and covered in dried blood.

"Why?" His anger flared up at such a disgraceful act. "And who stole his body?"

"Draco and Marianna," Zabini blurted as he nursed his injured arm.

"Whose idea was it?" he looked at their faces, until he focused on his Conditioned. This time she didn't look away.

Emily held up her chin, her mind was blank of thought when Severus checked. He remembered picking the girl out of all the prisoners to condition. She was always a weak-abled Ravenclaw, with such low self confidence that a simple instruction would end up disastrous. Now the woman who stood in front of him was strong-willed and ruthless.

"We wanted minimal people to know," she answered calmly.

"This is wrong, Miles! His parents need to bury him."

She shook her head smiling. "We all saw that red Aura of power he showed."

"So?"

"He was going through the Red phase—the Immolatio level! We should've guessed that it was the only way he could survive. We all saw it. And his soul never disappeared in the Chamber like we had all thought. It had gone invisible because he had passed the phase. "

Severus inhaled sharply, a wave of cold realisation hitting him hard. He stared at Potter's face, wondering if he could hear them. "Yes, otherwise it would've been disastrous for us all! But why would he continue to fake his own death?"

"He would've been hunted down by the Ministry, by the goblins and Death Eaters…" Emily slowly walked around the table, examining Potter like he was a rare exhibit.

Severus sighed. "A deal could've been made—He still needs to answer for his crimes. And you do realise that breaking a pact with the Goblins will cause a rebellion."

"We're not going to let them find out, Mentor—"

"I am not your Mentor anymore—!"

"He wants his own life. He wants freedom."

"Why isn't he awake now?"

"Because his body is an empty shell at the moment." Granger held up a piece of the Obsidian Stitch. "His soul is in this."

Severus was taken a back. "He created a Horcrux?"

"Sort of... The Obsidian Stitch was a heart that acted as a communicable gateway to the other side, that's how Vindictus was able to talk to us. Harry was able to manipulate it to keep his soul alive."

"And his body was strangely frozen cold after he died," Parvati added. "Bodies aren't cold like that straight after death. He was preserving it."

Emily cocked her head at Potter's still body. "He looks so peaceful doesn't he? Don't you think he deserves peace?"

"That can be argued," Severus said.

"It's time to wake up, Harry…" Hermione whispered. "You won."

Granger placed the Obsidian Stitch gently on Potter's bare chest, right over his heart.

"Er… nothing's happening," Weasley said.

"Give him time," Miles whispered.

Severus pulled back and crossed his arms. These young adults were amateurs trying to reverse something much more complex than dark magic. It was an unchartered territory, and the needed the help of far more experienced individuals. "We need help from the Unspeak—"

The solitary candle blew out, leaving them in darkness for a second.

"Lumos." His breath caught in his throat.

The Patil twins gasped.

Black blood began to seep out of the Stitch, pulsing, hypnotising and dangerous. The tendrils flowed down the boy's skin and down the table.

Curious, but also cautious, Severus approached the table once more. "This is strange magic." He watched the black blood slowly turn red, more alive, cascade faster down the table and drip onto the floor. The red tendrils began moving outwards, pulsing, slithering like snakes, turning ever brighter in colour like arterial blood full of life.

Something was about to occur.

"Everyone step back." Emily commanded. They heeded the warning backing themselves against the walls or onto the broken furniture.

"Ha-Harry wake up," Granger pleaded.

"I don't like the looks of this," Weasley stated, as he gripped Granger's arm.

Then the blood stopped moving and began to retreat, slow at first and then it sped up until the mass of red disappeared into the boy's chest.

"GET DOWN!" Severus yelled.

An explosive red light filled the room and they were all knocked to the ground.

As they all opened their eyes, they saw tiny fragments of the Stitch floating above their heads.

A cold laugh echoed in the air. Touch it, it commanded.

As though entranced by the voice, they all touched a fragment. Instantly, their world whirled around them, filled with darkness.

Severus smelt burning incense and a curious smell of rotting sardines. As light crept into his vision, he found himself in a red paneled room filled with frescoes of finely dressed men and women enjoying a meal, singers playing and strange animals. Looking around he heard people speaking in an ancient language and slave women carrying pots filled with wine. By the looks of it, Severus had somehow ended up in a vision in Ancient Rome.

Then a woman spoke from one of the rooms. "Fulvius?"

She was dressed finely in vermilion and her dark hair was in a bundle of curls and jewels.

"Fulvius Agelastus Maximus, I know you are hiding in here!" She craned her neck around and then softly padded around the room. She was speaking in Greek, the preferred language of the elite of ancient Rome. "When ever you hide, it means the children have upset you."

She stopped in front of Severus, looking straight past him. The woman smiled. "There you are!"

Severus watched a boy of ten emerge from a dark spot under the couch.

"I wasn't hiding," he pouted.

She chuckled lightly. "Take my hand. Don't be scared, Fulvius, Father has gone to the Senate."

The boy obeyed, he limped into the house with a leg slightly shorter than the other and Severus followed the Romans through the house.

"What happened?" the woman asked.

The boy shrugged. "A boy taunted me."

"Must you hurt them back?" she admonished, but her words were met with silence. "The children call you Vindictus, so I heard."

"Do you know what names they call me?"

"Yes, but vengeance should only be used as the last resort, Fulvius." She stopped walking and cupped his face in her hands. "Look at me," he turned his vivid blue eyes upwards, and Severus saw the anger and hate in them. "I have also heard other strange whispers…"

"Of what?"

"That you have been summoning the Goddess Trivia every night. That you wish to invoke her power and thus, this is why many children are scared of you. You hurt them without ever touching them. They wither and scream on the ground at your very feet."

"That isn't true, Licinia!"

She smiled sadly. "Fulvius, you need to control this strange power you have, and you need to keep it hidden."

The boy pulled back. "But why? What is it? Why can I make things move or vanish—"

"Or hurt people."

"I like it."

"It is not natural, Fulvius. It is the reason why our aunt was banished and you will too, if you do not hide it. Father will disinherit you."

As the scene changed, Severus wondered whether these memories were still within the fractured part of the Stitch or if Potter had stolen it.

This time the boy was older, in his teen years. He was leaning against the door frame watching the busy street unfold in front of him. People weaved in and out with baskets of goods, or rushing to complete their errands. On one side of the street a soldier was greeted by a pair of prostitutes, while on the other side horses were pawing on the cobbled street as their owners entered a bath house. But Fulvius was interested in a girl walking the street with her wiry old father. The boy summoned the couple over.

"Pleb, show me your wares today."

"We have trinkets and eyes to ward off demons and salves to cure ailments."

Fulvius wasn't listening; he was watching the girl behind her father. She bowed her head and her dark blonde curls spilled over.

"Helena, show the boy the necklace for luck."

The girl smiled and dropped the necklace into the boy's outstretched palm. "Beautiful," he remarked, focused totally on the girl.

Again the memory morphed and now they were in a dark room. The boy sat by the girl in shock.

"Are we spawned from Trivia?"

The girl frowned "I am as mortal as you, I am a sorceress… and you are a sorcerer, though you have not known what you are."

"No I'm not!" he hissed, pointing a finger into her face. "You're nothing but the daughter of a freed slave!" Then the candles blew out.

She ignored his slight and pulled out a branch of cherry, placing it carefully on the table. "This helps harness your gift. You can learn a lot from me."

Fulvius hesitated, and his expression softened. "How long have you known about me?" he whispered.

"My father would always frequent neighbourhoods with those harbouring the ancient gift. That is why we always went to yours." She smiled. "But there is something more with you; something ancient and revered… you are a Mágos."

The memory evolved and this time the boy was taller and leaner, his skin sunburnt. His clothes now were not of a wealthy roman's but that of a peasant farmer and they lived in a modest house made from mud, bricks and straw. Although their little farm was filled with a bountiful crop of grapes.

A little boy sat in Fulvius's arms. He giggled as Fulvius told him a story and Helena pounded herbs in her mortar and pestle.

There was a knock on the door and Helena opened it.

"Good evening." A man, all bones, covered head to foot in a dark travelling cloak asked for food and drink, and in exchange, he would read their fortunes.

Severus could tell that Fulvius did not like the man, and he didn't either. There was something about him that made a shiver run up his spine.

"I don't want him in the house," Fulvius told his wife.

Helenasmiled. "What's the harm in a little fortune-telling?" She let him in. "Atticus, go wait in the bedroom." The little boy obeyed and disappeared behind a flowing curtain and they all heard him playing with some of his wooden soldiers.

After a little bit of soup, the man asked for Helena's hand, so he could read her palm. Fulvius hid in the shadows, watching.

The cloaked man said she was gifted, and he envied her power. Helenainturn prodded him for more information, especially about who he was.

He did not give much, but a syllable of his name.

He asked about their child … "Where is your boy, sweet lady? Why does he naught make a sound?"

"He may be sleeping."

The cloaked man bowed his head. "Are you sure?"

At those ominous words, Fulvius rushed into their bedroom. Severus did not follow; instead he heard the wizard's voice.

"… Wake up. Wake up …"No!" he screamed. NO!"

He entered the room carrying the boy's lifeless body in his arms. "WHAT'S HAPPENED? WHY—?" He fell to his knees, his eyes widening.

Severus turned around and saw the witch dead. Her head slumped on the table with her hand still outstretched for her fortune to be read. Her eyes were wide and glassy and Severus saw her husband's stunned reflection in them.

The cloaked figure remerged from the shadow. "They have served me well. Their lives and their magic will help me live forever." He threw a bag of coins onto the table, next to Helena.

"You fucking murderer!" Fulvius yelled. He lunged at the cloaked man, but the murderer blasted him across the room.

"Do not make me kill you. Go back to Rome, go back and marry again, this time a rich woman who will bear you ten sons. You will prosper, and you will be great."

"Why them and not me?"

"I prefer innocents."

With those final words the cloaked stranger disappeared with a crack.

Fulvius lay down next to his dead wife, still cradling his son as well.

He kissed her lips and bit her bottom lip drawing out blood; He tasted it, as his tears flowed down. "I will avenge your deaths," he whispered. "I will find him with your help." He repeated the step with his son. "Stay with me and I will curse him as he has cursed me." He raised a knife, his eyes devoid of emotion, glassless even.

"I will invoke the ancient ritual of the Mágos." Then he plunged the dagger into his wife's chest. "Your spirits will help me, guide me to avenge him."

The memory changed and next Severus found Fulvius next to a shrine surrounded by candles with the figures of a woman and a boy. "You haunt my dreams, ever since I swallowed your hearts. You tell me to come to you, but where? Lead me. Will you lead me to your murderer?" he whispered. A trickle of blood flowed out of his eyes.

The memories flashed faster and now, Fulvius was standing over a deep dark crack in the earth. Hot wind blew out of it. He looked weary and covered in scars now. And there was hatred, and so much cold in those blue irises. His worn out cloak was strewn over his shoulders and was whipped back by the hot wind.

"WHERE ARE YOU? DO NOT PLAY GAMES WITH ME ANYMORE!" He bellowed. "I have failed… and you have cursed me." He fell to his knees. "Please Helena… come to me, tell me what I must do."

His eyes widened and he outstretched his hand and seemed to cradling something softly in the palm of his hand. Severus wondered if Helena had appeared to him. Fulvius's other hand touched his chest. "You are within me, yes, that is what I wanted… But I don't understand… what price must I pay? LIAR! YOU LED ME HERE TO DIE!"

"Fulvius withdrew his dagger and plunged it into his chest in rage. "YOU WON! Screaming into the sky as he carved out his heart. "TAKE ME! TAKE ME!"

He threw his heart into the crack. "I have failed!"

But Severus stood back witnessing a man that should've died continue to live. Even Fulvius was stunned beyond comprehension as he stared at the gaping wound of his empty chest. "What sorcery is this?" He shook his head eyes wide, then he clutched the sides of his heard with crimson hands. "STOP THESE WHISPERS! STOP!"

He was screaming into the crack, both petrified and in rage. Severus wondered if this was what Hell was like.

Then something was flung out of the crack, and it landed at Fulvius's feet.

He fell to his knees and with trembling hands, he picked up the gift. Black, shrivelled and sharp. Now in a state of calmness, Fulvius touched the groves of the Obsidian Stitch, gasping.

"I am cursed. I am your vengeance. For all of you…yes. Yes."

The memory changed and they were now in a small cave on the island of Crete. Severus squeezed himself into the opening and found Fulvius, with grey hair, holding onto the Stitch. While sitting cross legged, next to a fire where a rabbit was roasting, was the cloaked figure that had killed Fulvius's family. The figure prodded the fire.

"You are still chasing me, Fulvius?" he asked. "Or should I call you Vindictus now?

"I have dreamt of this moment for two hundred years, Hekatus."

The wizard pulled down his hood, revealing a withered, sallow face and eyes that were entirely black and not human at all.

"You are a defiled man," Fulvius spat. "I hunt each and every one of you, every murderer and rapist of innocents and I will not—"

"You will not die until you kill me. But you cannot—"

"Yes I can. I have destroyed each and every Horcrux you have created." Fulvius stared at the Stitch in his hand. The pieces of your soul have become nourishment for those who have been innocent victims. We pity you. We despise you. We will torture you. We will kill you."

Hekatus prodded the fire again, "I will kill you first."

"You cannot kill what is already dead."

Hekatus chuckled. "The dagger you hold has the power to kill a soul or to restore it. But the price is too great. I pity those who come after us looking for it. What a mockery, what vile twisted weapon you have created, Vindictus."

"A weapon of revenge, to kill people like you."

Hekatus smiled. "The very evil you have now perpetuated. You are cursed Vindictus. You opened Pandora's Box the moment you invoked the ancient ritual, and you did not do it successfully, thus creating this ugly mess."

"I don't care," he spat. "This is for my wife, for my son … and for every murdered, violated man, woman and child. And once I destroy you, I will rest."

"No, it is deeper than that. You will destroy me and yourself forever."

Suddenly their world flipped over and they were back in the basement, grinding their teeth and clinging to their heads.

Then they heard a gasp as life giving air filled Potter's lungs, his ribs jutting out as his chest pulled in, sucking in the air.

But, I was wrong.

A strange voice echoed around them. It was Vindictus, clinging onto life... his fingers slowly giving way to the other-world.

I was never to rest, not until someone… someone took over for my vengeance. For us.

The boy will…

"HARRY!" Granger yelled in relief and shock.

The boy will…

Potter slumped back and his then eyes fluttered open.

55. Epilogue

Epilogue

Five Years Later

Drenched in a foul smelling liquid, Harry wanted to get inside the Auror's locker room, clean up, and possible hide inside his locker for a couple of hours. However, his boss had other plans.

"POTTER," Head commander Thomas MacCloud roared. "IN MY OFFICE, NOW!"

"What the hell happened this time?" A blonde-haired Auror sitting at a messy desk smiled mischievously.

Aurors everywhere looked over their cubicles. They swatted purple memos away from their heads, interested in Harry. He trudged past them, ignoring their stares.

"Caught the last Death Eater on the list," said Harry out loud.

"It was more than that," yelled MacCloud from within his office. He spat everywhere as he banged things on his desk. "You destroyed half the Department of Fucking Mysteries, you four-eyed, skinny TWAT!"

MacCloud jabbed his wand behind Harry, slamming the door shut. He was livid, and there was a vein popping on his forehead, which reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon, once upon a time.

From the grimy window of the office door, he saw several Aurors craning their necks to listen in. Harry placed his hands behind his back. "It wasn't my fault Rabastan Lestrange went in there. I just followed him."

"But it's your fault the department is now up in smoke, because you decided to use…" the head Auror leaned over his desk, whispering, "your freaky magic."

"Mage magic," Harry corrected. Not very many people knew he was a Mage. "Let's be happy that the last Death Eater has been caught."

"I don't give a shit! The paperwork is going to be through the roof. The D.O.M are furious, the Minister is keeping his trap shut, the Daily Prophet is having a field day, and I have you—"

"—catching the last major missing Death Eater on record," Harry repeated, getting frustrated. Without permission he sat down. "At least give me a moment of victory before I tackle the paperwork."

The Auror gripped his desk, but the twitch in his cheek softened. "Congrats… How do you feel now, Potter?"

"Fantastic!"

"Great. You're suspended with two weeks pay while I clean up this mess. Go home and don't fuck up anything else on the way out."

"But Sir—we need to find out why he was sneaking around in the Ministry—!"

"I'm putting Creevey and Joyce on the case now. I don't care what Lestrange was doing—Probably looking for some sick family relic—But if we can get twenty years of peace, I'd be happy—Potter, stop looking like a stunned mullet, get out of my office or I'll have you put in prison for disobeying a command!"

Angry, Harry stormed out. His morning coffee run in Muggle London ended up more exciting than he'd ever imagine.

"Oi, Potter, where's my skim soy latte?" an Auror called out from behind her cubicle.

"The brains took it."

She had a look of confusion on her face as Harry took his cloak, and magicked the thick wad of paperwork to follow him out of the Auror Department.

Harrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…

Harry woke with a gasp. He sat up in bed, shoved his glasses on and looked to his right, relieved to find Ginny still fast asleep, with her red hair tangled all over her face.

He had a vivid nightmare about his reflection in a mirror. Though the image had no scar, wore no glasses and had a stupid cocky smile on its face. Then the reflection lifted his hand and forced a ball of green light through the mirror, killing Harry. Then Vindictus's voice would weave its way through at the very end.

Five years on, and his Mirror was still fucking with his mind.

He occasionally had other nightmares now, since the battle against Voldemort on December 20th 1998, at Hogwarts. These were mostly of a dozen dead students nailed to the castle walls, welcoming Harry to the siege that had taken place. This had all occurred after they had successfully rescued Malfoy's prisoners and even disarmed and abducted Draco at the same time.

At Hogwarts Harry used a decoy to be captured by Voldemort, while he himself had impregnated the Death Eater group in disguise with a few of the Aurors. Unlike the time he brought down the castles defences in the Mirror Universe, Harry had only created a few rips, allowing the Order and others to slip through. And while the Dark Lord was busy making the decoy's life miserable, Harry managed to free and kill Nagini. Only then was his cover blown, and a battle ensued. He barely escaped with his life.

One Horcrux was left and that was Hufflepuff's Cup, which had been on Voldemort's body. People were dying around them, good and bad, and Harry couldn't protect them. But when Voldemort had cornered Snape and was about to kill him to become Master of the Elder Wand, Harry had intervened, ripping the cup from Voldemort's body amidst all the wands pointed at him, proclaiming the he was the wand's master, not Snape.

The Dark Lord was furious, chasing Harry. All he wanted was a moment to destroy the cup, but he conceded it would have to happen upon Voldemort's death. While they fought, Bellatrix had kidnapped Hermione and they happily used her as bait to get the cup back.

Harry knew that if he gave it back, Hermione would die either way. Frozen with fear, time was not on his side.

He decided to play mind games on his enemy. He placed the cup at his feet and urged Voldemort to get it. The Dark Lord and his followers laughed at such a stupid command. So raising his wand, Voldemort tried to Accio the cup, but it didn't work. He tried several times, until he grew agitated that he struck Harry across the face with a powerful spell. Harry didn't waver, he smiled as he put up an illusion that the cup was melting into the flagstone floor.

Voldemort screamed, demanding that Bellatrix kill Hermione, however Ron and Snape were ready and snuffed her out. Harry and Voldemort duelled, but Harry prevailed in the end, and Neville helped to destroy the cup before Voldemort's spirit could regenerate.

Touching his scar instinctively, he reiterated to himself that he Dark Lord was gone. But why was Lestrange prowling around the D.O.M?

"Don't worry about it!" Kingsley said. "He was just looking for a Time Turner."

"A Time Turner? And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"He was lying… that's an obvious answer they'd give. Judging by the direction you saw him heading, we think he was looking for a prophecy… or perhaps a relic Voldemort would've wanted—"

Like the Obsidian Stitch…Harry thought with a shiver. "Voldemort is gone."

"I'm confident he is too. We are in the age of peace, but he isn't the only stupid Voldemort Sympathisers out there wishing he was still alive, or perhaps looking for a new leader."

Harry drove the worry out of his mind. He was happy, there was no pain, no suffering. He was already an intermediate Auror with many medals for his work, even though he was still being very young compared to the rest of the force. He was in a loving relationship with Ginny, and his best friends Ron and Hermione had recently become engaged. So now the pressure (mostly directing from Molly Weasley herself) was for him to pop the question too.

Harry was also Godfather to the cheekiest little boy, Teddy Lupin. Despite losing his mother and never knowing what a wonderful woman Tonks was, his father, Remus Lupin was lucky to be alive. Harry had saved him in the nick of time at the Malfoy's, by giving him some of his life. His injuries had spared him from taking part in the final battle, which had killed Tonks.

Ginny stirred and stretched her arms. She propped up in the bed and blearily gazed at the alarm clock. "Harry, its after six. Get some sleep."

"I had another one of those dream—hey, don't you have Quidditch training? You're ten minutes late." Ginny was always awake by 5am.

Rubbing her eyes, she looked at the clock again. "BLOODY HELL!" Ginny scrambled out of bed, gathering up her strewn clothes. "Shitshitshit!" she swore. After struggling into her clothes, she threw her bag over her shoulder and yelled, "Bye!" And just like that Ginny disappeared from his little house.

Harry had sold Grimmauld place, unable to bear the memories of Sirius there and bought this shabby little box in a Muggle town. It needed work, but Ginny found it endearing and that was all that mattered. And every time she visited she would suggest renovations, like adding a storey here and there, an observatory, a balcony, and perhaps one day, a child's nursery too.

Peeking into his sock draw, Harry pulled out a small box hidden at the back. He opened it, double checking that the diamond ring was still in there. He had found it in his vault after Remus had told him his mother's engagement ring was kept there.

Harry pulled himself out of bed, and before he put on his shirt, his fingers lightly touched the multitude of scars on his body. It had only been last night that Ginny traced gently the sensitive scars on his back. Sometimes a wave a pain coursed through them and Harry doubled over, unable to move. It happened rarely now, but five years ago he almost couldn't become an Auror because of those wounds.

He yawned as he watched the sun rise thinking about how hard it was five years before. Auror training had helped overcome everything he endured, so did the magical counsellors helping him through his ordeals, both in this world, and what he had experienced in the Mirror Universe. They even used the Potion recipe the Tantibus Mentis potion on the survivors here.

However, he had only told his best friends, Ginny, Kingsley, Remus and Neville what had really happened when Rowena Ravenclaw's Portkey had transported him into that world. Even Snape knew bits and pieces.

After the battle of Hogwarts, Snape was acquitted of all crimes and Harry backed him up. That was the last time he had seen him, though, since then Snape had continued as Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. After all, the curse Voldemort had placed on the teaching position had lifted when he had died.

Neville was working as a Herbology Professor for the last year and wasn't scared of Potions Master anymore. We barely talk to each other, but there's a mutual respect for one another, Neville wrote.

At 8:30am, Harry made himself a coffee. He decided to call in at the Auror Department and check with Dennis Creevey about what was happening on the Lestrange case. He was really itching to find out more.

"Lestrange isn't talking much, Harry," Denis explained. "He's a strong willed turd."

Ten minutes later, as he ate his porridge, Hermione called to tell him the verdict on some Wizengamot cases of criminals Harry had captured. Then she reprimanded him for going after Lestrange without enforcement.

"I didn't have time!" he said in disgust. "Lestrange whizzed past me at the café—and snuck into the Ministry and into the—the whole debacle happened in a flash. I can't believe I was still holding the coffees!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How did you pass your Auror training again?"

"Like, how did I survive my entire life?"

Before Harry had finished cleaning his teeth Ron popped by with George. They wanted to hear his version of the story again.

"Have you seen this morning's Prophet?" George laughed, "Apparently you captured Lestrange by throwing a hot decaf coffee at his eye! First of all, who in their right mind drinks a decaf? They might as well drink water—"

"NO, that didn't happen!" Harry yelled, spluttering toothpaste all over his clothes. "Get out of my house!"

They both laughed as they disappeared to open up their jokes shop.

Then the Daily Prophet Flooed in for his version of events for the afternoon edition. But he was tight lipped about it. At 10am, Molly Weasley Apparated in. She wanted to see if he needed supplies from Diagon Alley, before visiting Fred and Arthur's graves. The morning hours quickly flew by, and then Remus stopped by with Teddy.

"Harry!" the little boy squealed, jumping on him, his hair changing to a lovely lilac.

"So I heard all about yesterday," Remus said, sitting down.

Harry put the kettle on the boil and leaned on the countertop. "Quite sick of talking about it to be honest," he mumbled.

The werewolf snorted, and stopped his son from pinching a biscuit from a jar.

"So? Anything?"

"Anything…?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Did you pop the question everyone wants to hear?"

Harry shook his head. "Not yet."

"What are you waiting for?" Remus said, "For Teddy to graduate from Hogwarts and start dating Victoire?"

Behind his father, Teddy made a disgusted facial expression. "ERGH! Victorie smells!"

Harry scratched his head. "I'm not sure… Look I'll ask her on her birthday, it's only a week away."

"Ow! Cake," Teddy replied, stealing a Fizzing Whizbee that was hidden on the shelf. "I like cake."

"You're nervous." Remus crossed his arms. "You are just as bad as your own father was… it took him months to work up the courage. He turned into a gormless Gryffindor at the thought of proposing."

After lunch, which Remus and Teddy had stayed for, Harry was doing a spot of painting in the living room when he heard a knock. What surprised him was that it was two Unspeakables wanting to speak to him. He guessed so by the colour of their uniforms.

Harry's heart plummeted. They must have been really be pissed off with him. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Good Afternoon Auror Potter, may we speak to you? This is Frederick Warren and I'm—?"

"Anthony? Anthony Goldstein?"

He looked totally unrecognisable with his long brown beard and curly hair. His blue eyes hadn't changed a bit.

"Er—"

"Anthony, for Merlin's sake," Harry grinned, shaking his hand vigorously, trying to butter them up before the impending interrogation. Anthony's partner blushed. "I haven't seen you in years!"

"Well we, er… we're Unspeakables, Potter—"

No shit, thought Harry.

"Call me Harry. There's no need for formalities, we're friends," Harry said, ushering them in. "So what have I done?" he asked sweetly.

"Done?" Anthony seemed taken back. "No, it isn't about that—"

"Oh," Harry breathed, "So this isn't about me apprehending Lestrange in the Department of Mysterious? I destroyed some artefacts by accident, particularly the brain room." The same room Ron had an encounter with years ago. "Really, I am sorry about that."

"We're here about something else. We're investigating Mirror Universes for a long while, and we've heard rumours that you… well… our Head specifically said that you were involved." Anthony and his partner exchanged a dark look. "Head Unspeakable Croaker is a touch pissed off with the D.O.M incident. He's eager to slap your wrist for it."

"Rumours?" Harry's mood instantly changed. His elation that he wasn't going to be investigated for the destruction and seeing Anthony died with those words.

It turns out they had been investigating Rowena's cave for years. Years even before Harry, Ron and Hermione had discovered it.

"Do you still have the Portkey from that cave?"

"You knew—?"

"Of course we know. We're Unspeakables. We've documented every book in that cave and only one has gone missing in the last century without our approval."

Harry nodded, grinding his teeth. He opened a locked trunk in the attic, and riffled through his things, which he had not touched since after the war. He finally found it. Slightly battered, dog-eared and covered with blood, the book wasn't as fresh looking as it was when Harry had first transported with it. He rather reluctantly showed them the Portkey.

Anthony proceeded to riffle through its pages, but Harry stopped him. "No, I don't want you to read it."

"Why?"

"It's too personal…"

Anthony gently placed the book gently on the coffee table. "Was it that bad?"

"Nightmarish! And the memories… I don't ever want to go back to that time and place."

He nodded in understanding. "I know how that feels."

Harry had learnt that during the war, Anthony had tried protecting several of his house's first years from Julien Roux, and the tortures inflicted by the other Death Eaters.

"Would you, ah, ever decide to go back? You can— we've just had an Unspeakable come back. And a many others who have done it a few times with their favourite universes."

"They survived?"

Anthony and his partner nodded.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How long were they gone for?"

"Days, months, even years," Frederick answered.

"And they're alright?"

"The most recent Unspeakable to come back is in St Mungo's. He's a bit depressed. You see, his wife and kids are still alive in the Mirror Universe."

Harry breathed, thinking about his Mirror parents and what they were up to, before realising that his fingers were gripping the armchair tightly.

"Would you ever consider it? Three—"

"Three drops of blood and it'll be activated. But I can't. I don't…"

Anthony and his partner looked at each other. "We understand, but we've sought permission from your department in case you said yes. Your boss gave you up quite easily. It seems that our Heads want you gone."

"After yesterday, I'm not surprised they wouldn't."

Harry always had reservations about MacCloud, especially since his Mirror had been a corrupt wizard working with Umbridge. Kingsley would on occasion call him The Prickly Cunt. He wasn't Kingsley's favourite choice for the job after the retirement of Gawain Robards the year before, but MacCloud had a lot of friends in the Ministry.

So three drops of blood would activate the Portkey once more. He would see his parents again and everyone else too. He'd also find out what his Mirror was doing. It was so tempting.

"No. Never again. And that's final."

He left the book on the kitchen table when the Unspeakables had left.

That evening Ron passed by with dinner from the Leaky Cauldron. He quickly lost his appetite when Harry told him what happened.

There was no way he would ever go back, even though at times he had thought about his Mirror family. And no matter how much they'll pester him about going, his decision was final.

They sat down with a glass of Firewhiskey and stared at the innocent book.

"You almost destroyed me," Harry whispered.

It did not talk back. A buzz was coming from the fridge and the self cleaning plates in the sink clinked, while water was trickling out of the faucet, yet the book sat there quietly, staring back at him.

Harry threw the book, letting it smack against the wall.

"Feeling a touch angry?" Ron said.

Harry ignored him. The book fell open on the ground, flicking through a few hundred pages of his suffering. He drank deeply from the glass before picking the book up.

The strange thing about the book was Harry hadn't seen a blank page left in it when he arrived back. Now, the very last page of the book was white and crisp.

"Oh no…" He closed his eyes and reopened them, hoping he had imagined it.

"What?" Ron asked.

This did not seem like a good omen. He took it into the living room and sat down with it on his lap and stared at the empty page.

"Can you start telling me what's going on?" Ron barked. "Becoming an Auror has turned you into Hermione!"

"There better be a good reason why you're blank," he spat, deciding to flick through the rest of the book. He saw glimpses of old memories between his Mirror. Going back to the very last, blank page, Harry discovered words had formed.

Hello Harry.

He inhaled sharply. Fucking hell!

"Who's this?"

The new words slowly formed in front of his very eyes. I have waited five years for you to realise that I am here as well.

A hot sickening feeling enveloped him. "Harry?"

Of course.

"This is impossible! We can't communicate like this through dimensions."

We're Mages...

Ron ran a hand through his hair, paling. "Is it a Horcrux?"

No.

"How did you do it?" Harry asked.

When I went to Rowena's cave, the Mirror version of the book came to me. I manipulated its magic before touching it and hid it at Remus's. Then, before the final battle, I had created a connection with your book. We are both connected to our books, our blood has linked us together, and therefore we can communicate. I have kept mine hidden, waiting for you to open yours once again. I could feel our connection reawakening… I knew you had it with you.

"That's dedication," nodded Ron. "This is unbelievable; the Unspeakables would go nuts if they knew."

Ron was right, but Harry frowned. "What happened after I left?"

I was alive, bidding my time, though it was at a cost.

"What do you mean, at a cost?"

I have become Vindictus's justice. My heart was the price to continue living. The spirits urge me to find those who have wronged them. Sometimes it becomes too much, but I am getting used to them, at least Vindictus has moved on. I however, still have a lot of sins to pay for.

"Oh my God."

It isn't that bad… I get satisfaction handing the criminals over to the Aurors. Maybe one day, I might even become a private investigator.

Harry nodded and relaxed into his chair with Ron, eagerly awaiting the Mirror's next response.

"I'm an Auror now."

My father is happy to hear that.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. His father was with his Mirror.

He wanted to ask James so many questions, but he needed to focus. "After you were revived, what happened?"

I disappeared…

I was a fugitive for awhile until I was found. The Ministry imprisoned me after a lengthy trial, though many thought I should have been freed. Then the goblins made a pact with the Ministry and I was put under their guard.

"Where are you now?"

Free and currently at Godric's Hallow.

"How are your parents and the Pettigrew children?"

Everyone is well, Harry. Jessica is a Seeker for Ravenclaw… she says hello. She is sitting beside me now.

"Hi back!" he chuckled.

Ashley and Tony are progressing well at school. There are no houses anymore, except for Quidditch teams, thanks to the destruction of the Sorting Hat. Michael is training to become an Auror and Chris wants to become a Healer…

And my parents think about you all the time.

Harry had to blink away his tears. He cleared his throat. "How are Ron and Hermione?"

They have two children now. I am their godfather.

Ron punched Harry's shoulder. A wide grin was on his face. It meant so much to Harry hearing that his Mirror has a good relationship with his best friends.

Michael finally asked Ginny out last week.

Draco and Emily live together.

Tristan and Beth are home with Remus again, and the Pettigrew children live with him as well.

"Snape?"

Snape is teaching again. Surprisingly, he is teaching Defence.

Harry laughed. "Yeah here too… What about Yaxley and the others?"

Yaxley disappeared soon after the war ended, most likely to a tropical location. Kirkhope is still breaking my balls, while Parvati and I went our separate ways a year ago.

"And how are you?"

I'm okay…

"What happened when you were with the goblins?"

I was freed as long as I worked for them. I helped rebuild their bank. I am their Curse Breaker now. It's an interesting line of work, and I've learnt so much about my abilities along the way... learnt so much about Vindictus too. You should try it one day.

Are you well?

"Never better!"

Tell me what happened when you went back.

He told them everything right up until today. When he finished he waited for his Mirror's words to appear on the page.

My father and sister are so happy that your world is at peace now.

"I feel the same about yours," Harry grinned.

I have to go. Keep in touch… keep the book close, you never know, you might need my help one day. After all, I am in debt to you.

Ps. Dad asks you to grow some balls and ask Ginny to marry you.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," he chuckled.

Ha! Look after yourself.

"Same."

Then an empty page stared back at them.

"Keep in touch?" Ron seemed amazed, but then a dark look flitted across his face. "You know what, Harry; I have bad feeling about this."

Harry raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger into Ron's face. "Stop saying that, nothing good ever happens when you say that!" But he relaxed, a smile forming across his lips. His Mirror family were safe and happy. It felt like he had found the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle that had been lost for five years.

The summer always turned the Potter household into a rowdy one, filled with visitors, though today seemed a little quiet as Lily made her way through the house, with several shopping bags following behind her.

"James? Jessica?" Lily grabbed herself a cold glass of water, and heard no one answer her call. "Chris, Michael? Are you boys back home yet?" Nothing.

"HELLO?"

Fear leapt into her body. An image of all four bodies dead crashed into her mind. Her heart was thumping, and she rushed into each room of the house until she smacked into a man, forcing her to yelp.

"Lils—what—what's wrong—it's okay!" James said, gripping her shoulders tightly.

She bit her lip, "Thank God!"

"It's okay," he kissed her forehead. "We were outside. We have a guest." He looked so happy.

Taking a deep breath, Lily was led outside where she discovered Harry sitting with Jessica, with a big tome in their hands. It was a book that looked vaguely familiar.

Her knees buckled beneath her. "Oh Harry…" she whispered.

Lily had only seen him twice in five years. Once at the Wizengamot trial and the other had been in Diagon Alley. She had called out for him, but he had ignored her and quickly vanished. Harry didn't want to be a part of their lives and it broke her heart. However, he maintained a good relationship with his sister, seeing her at Hogwarts, and peppering her with gifts from strange places aboard.

"Harry?" she whispered. His hair was long again and there was a stupid little claw earring which was a sign that he worked with the goblins. "Why are you here?"

"Just felt the urge to have a look at an old book."

"I hid it for Harry," Jessica said, smiling. "We spoke to the Mirror, Mum."

"How?" Lily felt faint.

"It's a long story." Harry stood up before Lily could get an answer. "I have to go."

She blocked her son's way out. "You are staying put!" James placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Harry, stay. You have no idea how much it'll mean to me, to us."

He couldn't look her in the eye.

"Sweetheart, we haven't spoken in five years."

"Must be hard—"

"Yes it bloody well is!" Lily huffed. "Times have changed. The past is in the past and we need to move on. You especially! I bet you your Mirror has," she sniffled. If only Lily had arrived ten minutes earlier she might've been able to speak with her Mirror son as well.

"I have to go." He brushed past her.

"Please stay for dinner," Jessica chimed in, "I was baking a treacle tart before you came."

"I've been teaching her how to cook," James added. "Your sister can actually boil an egg without burning it now."

"Very funny. I'm still better than Mum." She flipped her black hair over her shoulder.

Lily crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "I resent you all."

And then her little boy, now a grown, haunted man, showed a flicker of humour in his eyes.

"Please," Lily entwined her fingers between his, "just for a little while."

He squeezed her hand. "Okay."

Harry had just spoken one word, but it meant the world to her. It was a new beginning. As shattered as her family was, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel for them all, especially for her eldest child.

The End

Well, I have finally finished this fic after 12 and half years! I can't believe it! What a journey it has been! It may not be the greatest fic, or piece of writing, but it was fun. It was a storm of creativity and heartache.

As in Harry's world, bad shit happens in real life and war tears families apart. It destroys the lives of children and it takes generations to heal. I just wanted to emphasis that in this fic. I remember watching a documentary about Syrian refugees in Europe and there was a little Syrian girl playing in a park, but suddenly she became frightened of a passing helicopter. She hid, thinking it was going to bomb them. It has stuck with me ever since.

Thank you to my reviewers, both good and those hilariously bad, you guys gave me the energy to write, and even made me chuckle over several WTF moments.

Thank you to Relentess who stuck by this fic to the very end. It is a pleasure to know you.

I hope you have enjoyed this fic, cried and urged the characters on as I have.

Thank you and goodbye.