Author's Notes:
I was originally going to post this chapter without any notes, but the last few reviews have convinced me to at least gloat a bit that I've got you all desperately waiting on one of the later chapters to figure out what is going on. While this is by no means the end of the story, this chapter (and the next) will make much abundantly clear about the first bits of the story.
And for those of you whom are confused, short bits in italics are most likely thoughts, while conversations or scenes in italics are memories. 99% of the time, anyways.
Chapter Four: The Department of Mysteries Once More
Harry closed his eyes against the dizziness for a moment, and when he opened them, he saw Hermione looking at him concernedly. "You okay, Harry?"
He nodded only slightly, wondering why he was so surprised to see her, to hear her voice. She's dead. I'm dreaming. Or I'm dead. Which is when the next twenty-seven years came rushing back to him. It worked!
His elation was short lived, though, when he realized how close he had cut it. He was not going to have enough time to develop full control over the situation, and it would continue to play out as it had until he did. "They're coming now," he whispered, too softly for any to hear.
Now indeed. It was quite possibly the loudest explosion any of them had ever heard, throwing all but Dumbledore to the floor. In the door room, most of the Order was spread out, also hidden behind doors. Intermingled with them was Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Dumbledore's Army. Harry gripped his wand tighter as he rolled to his feet, watching while his body went through the motions of the coming battle, motions he knew all to well, merely hoping he would gain enough control in time.
The ceiling hit the floor, shattering into thousands of pieces, and water from the repaired fountain in the Atrium sprayed down onto them. Dementors led the first wave, and Harry's slight prerecognition brought by the future memories had let him be even more prepared than before. No one else even got the chance for a Patronus Charm as Harry shouted "Expecto Patronum!" giving birth to the silver stag which tore into the dementors. They fled before it, especially as more appeared to join it. Already things were changing from Harry's memories.
That could only be a good thing. Finally he managed to get words from his mouth. He only had a few seconds before it happened. "Headmaster! They're attacking the school too!" It was all he had time for as the Death Eaters descended through the hole, fully expecting a raging battle to be occurring.
Moody shouted. "Go, Dumbledore, we'll hold them!"
Curses began to fly back and forth across the room, and Harry tried to turn, but he could not, he tried desperately. Dumbledore deflected the first few curses headed his way, and then, with a crack, vanished.
Which was when Harry stumbled, dodging a Stunning Spell from someone who looked suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy under his Death Eater robes. That was when the war changed. "Imperio!" came from behind him, and Harry snapped upright, freezing in place.
Ginny Weasley had committed her treason. The members of the Order froze in place, stunned for the half second it took. Stunning spells flashed across the room from the Death Eaters, striking down Ron and Fred and George. Bill had managed to shout "Ginny, what are…" before he too was brought down.
Moody avoided the attack, while Tonks and Kingsley returned the stunning blasts. Hermione sent back her own attacks with a well timed shielding charm, and then she whirled, trying to reach Harry, to stop Ginny.
Take down the Order, the command echoed in his mind. He obeyed, trying to fight it, twenty seven years of hatred and denial boiling up inside him. It still was not enough to break through. He did not have full control yet.
His younger self had no idea what was going on. The Harry from the future knew exactly what had happened, but the Harry of this time was unfortunately still in control. The potion had cut it too fine, and without knowledge of the attack, and who was attacking him, his younger self was unable to fight the compulsion in his mind.
His wand came up as Hermione ran towards him. She was first. "Petrificus Totalus." She froze in place, dropping to the floor. Tonks wheeled towards him, abandoning the fight with the Death Eaters to deal with the far greater danger in their midst.
It was not that it deprived the Death Eaters of targets. In fact, it created less threats to them. Dumbledore's Army might have been pouring into the room, but there was the small problem that people coming through doors were immensely vulnerable to just any spell directed in that direction.
Tonks' "Stupefy!" merely bounced off an easily emplaced shielding charm from Harry, reflecting back before she could do anything, knocking her to the ground. The senior male Weasley, still conscious, was dueling with his traitorous daughter, who had already brought her mother to the ground with a stunner.
The problem was, too many of the most powerful wizards were distracted by Harry's betrayal, the weaker ones, reinforcing them, had not even noticed it. The Death Eaters, despite their much smaller numbers, were quickly gaining the upper hand because of the snake they had implanted a year before.
Harry still could not fight it, though he was trying desperately. Spells were flashing everywhere around him as Harry struck down those who trusted him, curses and spells from an unexpected quarter overwhelming them with surprise. Finally, he won a respite from following instructions. Unfortunately, that was because every member of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army was lying on the ground.
Harry had seen enough flashes of green light to have a sickening suspicion that far too many of them were dead. A number of Death Eaters were down too, but they were being roused by their fellows. Ginny was standing over Hermione's body, pointing a wand down at her, trembling with rage. She raised it to curse her dead, when Draco shouted from under his mask, "Ginny, stop."
She whirled, pointing the wand at her lover while Harry watched disinterestedly. "Why should I? It's her fault, you know?"
Draco chuckled. "Your revenge will be so much sweeter if you make him do it."
This was the point Harry remembered, the point he had been trying to avoid, to change. The reason he had risked everything. In the past he knew, he had thrown off the curse as Hermione had died. But her death had driven him wild. The Death Eaters had not even been able to touch him, and he had killed ten of them before they had escaped, running to allow their lord to take him down. Harry's anger then had let him beat Voldemort, this time, Harry had another weapon, if only he had time. He waited for the inevitable command.
"Kill the Mudblood, Harry," Ginny said softly. "Use the killing curse on Hermione, so she won't wake up this time."
Harry raised his wand, and he began the incantation. He was going to do it again. He could not do it again. He could not kill her this time. NOOOOOOOOO!
"Avada Kedav…" He spun on Draco and Ginny, finally regaining control, "…ra!" The green curse burst from his wand and blew Ginny off her feet. His wand waved again, the Banishing Charm sending Draco flying against the far wall.
The Death Eaters finally recovered from their surprise. Green bolts of light flew at Harry from all directions. He shouted "Protego!" instinctively, useless against the killing curse, but able to deflect the lesser ones sent towards him. The reflected spells took down four of the Death Eaters as Harry dove under the killing curses, robes flapping wildly as he rolled.
His wand was moving as he came to his feet. "Stupefy! Incendio! Incarcerous!" He managed to take at least one more of the Death Eaters out of the fight. He was unsure how many were left, exactly, but he was taking down as many as he could. Then, with a swish and flick of his wand at the rubble of the ceiling, he shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!" and sent chunks of rubble from the ceiling flying towards the hooded dark wizards.
He repeated the spell, again and again, forcing the Death Eaters into deflecting the flying chunks of stone and not attacking him. As they were occupied, he sent a few more spells directly at them. "Obliviate! Stupefy! Impedimenta!"
With a crack, the standing Death Eaters disapparated, realizing that Harry was going to win if they stayed, especially as he cut down their numbers without being touched. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, then remembered what had happened in his past when the Death Eaters were gone. They had left him for Voldemort to deal with.
He had a few seconds, though, just a very few. "Accio wand," he commanded, flicking his wand in Hermione's general direction. Her wand flew to him, and he stuffed it up his sleeve, turning around, looking for the Dark Lord. Last time, he had appeared next to what was left of the fountain.
Thunder crashed in the sky, and rain began to pelt down upon Harry, soaking him through in an instant. He should have been here by now.
That was when he heard the laughter from behind him. The high, soulless voice spoke to him. "Turn around, Harry. Now."
Harry did as he was told, his mind ready, his arms slightly flexed. But when he finally faced the Dark Lord, he froze. Voldemort was holding the unconscious Hermione and Ron in midair with his hand upraised. "You can stop me from killing both of them, at least immediately, I'm sure. But one of them will die before you can do anything. After all, you don't know any curses to hurt me." The dark, horrid laugh again. "Thanks to you, not even the killing curse will harm me."
Harry slowly circled around the Dark Lord. "You're wrong. If it will kill me, it will kill you too. Or at least shatter you again, like it did before." He knew it was true, because that was how he had beaten him in his past. It had taken four killing curses, and enormous amounts of other combat spells to distract the Dark Lord, but eventually Voldemort had been trapped and vanquished. That was how he knew it would work.
The Dark Lord paused, obviously having not expected to be called on his bluff. "You still can't stop me from killing one of them." He sneered, moving his wand back and forth between Harry's two floating friends, forcing Harry to choose… A memory rose, unbidden…
Ron pulled Harry aside for a brief moment, tugging on his robes as he pulled Harry into a secluded corner as they headed inside after graduation. Hermione also paused, looking at them oddly, and Ron grinned at her. "We'll be along in a second. Guy stuff," he added, wriggling his eyebrows.
She shrugged and began walking down the corridor towards the Great Hall. "Don't be too slow, or you'll miss all the food." The amusement in her voice at the thought of Ron missing out on food was obvious.
"We won't," Harry called after her, then turned back to Ron. "What is it?"
"It's about Hermione." Harry waited, expecting more, but when Ron spoke next, it was with a quaver of fear in his voice, on a different subject. "It's going to happen soon, isn't it?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, but what…"
Ron cut him off, which was rare. "You know we'll both be with you until the end, right?" At Harry's next nod, he continued. "If it… if it comes down to it… Save her. Promise me, you'll save her and not me."
Harry was horrified. "I can't do that, mate."
"You don't have a choice," Ron whispered. "I'll stun her, force her to remain behind. You need her more than me."
"I need you both. It'll always be the three of us."
Ron grinned. "I don't think she'd go for that, Harry." Harry blushed before Ron continued. "Promise me, damn it. I'll do everything I can, but I… I feel like you need her to beat him. I'm going to get the two of you that chance." His glare had been fierce as Harry shook his head. "Promise me!"
The emotion had convinced him more than anything else. "I… I promise."
…and Harry moved, an instant too late.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The jet of green light hit Ron squarely, but Harry's action cost Voldemort his wand. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord moved so quickly that he grabbed the flying wand from midair with his other hand, allowing Hermione and Ron to drop to the floor. As Voldemort spun, he shouted the same two words once more, but this time, with even more murder in his heart, directed at the Boy-Who-Lived.
The green flash passed harmlessly through the air where Harry had been, and as Harry straightened up, he flicked his wand at Voldemort. "Furnunculus." Voldemort easily blocked the spell and laughed.
"Is that all you have, Harry Potter?" The tiniest movement of his wand and Voldemort sent a spell flashing at Harry, the garish purple flame once used on Hermione. Harry easily dodged it, and let his anger surge through him. In his determination not to repeat the mistakes of before, he had limited himself quite clearly to no use of the Unforgivable Curses.
"Stupefy!" The red blast raced out and Voldemort merely deflected it once more.
"You'll have to do better than that, Harry." Voldemort's laughter was continuing, and was really starting to get on Harry's nerves.
He tried the trick he had used on the Death Eaters, summoning up chunks of the ceiling to fly at Voldemort. They struck the shield which Harry had seen the Dark Lord use before when fighting Dumbledore. Flinging curses before him, Harry charged Voldemort, and Voldemort stood his ground calmly, deflecting all the curses away, then, as Harry sent another disarming spell at him, Voldemort cast forth a green light from his wand. They intersected once again, and Voldemort snarled, snapping the connection and whirling away from the backlash as both spells exploded through where he had been standing.
Harry grinned, switching to Hermione's wand in the brief instant He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had his back turned to him. "Impedimenta!" Voldemort attempt to block in the same manner with a counter spell and gasped in disbelief as they passed through each other. Harry avoided the purple streaks once more, having expected it, but Voldemort was hit with the spell.
NOW! Harry's mind screamed at him.
You see, every generation has its greatest, its Don Juan, its Achilles, its Einstein, its… Merlin. Sometimes they were good. Sometimes they were not. Every war needs a hero, a Horatius, someone who just refuses to quit. Two generations ago, for Wizard-kind, that hero, that greatest, had been Albus Dumbledore. A generation ago, there had been an anti-hero, greater than Dumbledore. His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, and he was Lord Voldemort. And just as Dumbledore had faced and been beaten by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, He-Must-Not-Be-Named now faced the Boy-Who-Lived, greatest of the next generation.
Lord Voldemort had been the greatest wizard who ever lived, a name three generations had feared to speak. And then, Harry Potter was born, and now, it was Harry Potter's time to be the greatest. That was when Voldemort realized that his ambition had been achieved. He had made it. He had been the greatest who ever lived. His ambition had just had a small problem. "Ever lived" only included those that came before. And was past tense.
Harry Potter was after. And Voldemort had lost, he knew it, now it was a race to see if he could hold off the mechanics of losing a little while longer.
He could not.
There is a room in the Department of Mysteries, that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study which reside there. It is the power held within that room that Harry possessed in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. It was the power that two years prior had taken Harry to save Sirius. It was the power that twenty seven years in the future would take Harry back to this time to save Hermione.
It was the power that would save him from Voldemort. The single door that remained in the room of doorways that was locked shattered at this point as Harry's mind cried out. Voldemort, already fighting through the Impediment Jinx, was turning on Hermione as he felt the feeling swelling.
He guessed wrong. Love exploded into the room, battering Voldemort onto his knees, throwing him across the room towards an open door. "This is for Hermione!" Harry shouted as he allowed the power to throw him after Voldemort.
Tom Riddle fell to the bottom of the steps in the Death Room. Voldemort was merely a shadow now, the power overwhelming him. "Harry," he pleaded. "Please, no. I don't want to die!"
"Neither did anyone you killed, Riddle, son of your father." Voldemort drew back in pain, and suddenly leapt for Harry, the last insult enraging him. But the Man-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was ready for him. The wave of love grew around Harry and threw Voldemort back once more.
Like Sirius, time seemed to slow as Voldemort fell into the portal, and then, passed beyond the Veil. On the far side of the hall of doors, a lock clicked back into place, and Harry sagged down on the floor, exhausted.
It was over, and he had not sold his soul to beat the devil. Unlike last time. Blackness descended, and Harry passed out.