Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 5: Carry You Home

Trouble is her only friend and he's back again.
Makes her body older than it really is.
She says it's high time she went away,
No one's got much to say in this town.
Trouble is the only way is down.
Down, down.
As strong as you were, tender you'll go.
I'm watching you breathing for the last time.
A song for your heart, but when it is quiet,
I know what it means and I'll carry you home.
I'll carry you home.

If she had wings she would fly away,
And another day God will give her some.

Author's Note: I'm back, probably.. I've been working on a lot of things, school, other writings, other ideas... so many things I want to do, this is continuing where I left out pretty well and the style hasn't changed that much. :_)

anyways, yes I stole from house, its from the first season the episode is entitled "Three Stories" and is one of my favorites. I liked that plot, wanted it for Harry and so used it. You'll find out a lot in this chapter and some things hopefully will be either cleared up now or in the next chapter. I'm planning two more chapters at the most for this prologue of my epic and finale.

I do not own Harry Potter and co., the batcave, and house... enjoy:_)

* * * * * *

Harry felt uneasy as Doctor Caroline explained the procedure that morning. But his mind wasn't focused on the facts before him. Thursday had explained it to him so it removed the unknown. He learned so much the night before, and all the proof he needed was in the past few weeks. There was no need to disbelieve what was being told to him. In fact, the absurdity made sense, especially when Thursday promised to try to visit him after the surgery, just to prove another fact. The worlds were connected, but weren't. Only the Librarian, the Power half can make the travel. He could take the Knowledge half, but no one else. Hopefully, this would help prove who his second half is, maybe not. But right there were more pressing issues at hand.

"Do you understand Harry?" she asked him, Remus and Mr. Granger stood next the bed, watching Harry for any sign of reaction.

"As much as I care," he replied. "and you have my insurance?" Remus was able to contact a muggle insurance agency, thus he was able to even get care at the magical hospitals as well. Only problem was just getting through the surgery. Right now, Harry's leg was hurting him, and Hermione had yet to see him. So he waited.

"yes, everything is taken care," Dr. Caroline replied.

"then fine," Harry said, and shifted around again.

"don't worry, Harry," Dr. Granger placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hermione will be here shortly. We just wanted her to sleep a bit, and make sure everything is taken care of," he waved his hand aimlessly, "before the surgery." Concept of self dictates control over self.

"I'm okay with that," he nodded. It begins with knowledge of who one really is, and why they are here in existence. "just nervous I guess, never had major surgery before."

"A chink in the knight's armor," Hermione said from the door way. Harry smiled at the sight of her, his heart quickened slightly, and his hands twitched as if wanting to reach for her. She was dressed simplistically, a pair of jeans that curved almost perfectly with her hips, cocked to a side, her hands akimbo, and that beautiful face of her with her perfect smile. The blouse was - "so the Great Harry Potter isn't all that great." and it ends with the knowledge that it ends.

"at least in your eyes," Harry replied, his smile grew bigger as she ran to him, enveloping him in a hug, his eyes closed as he returned it with all the strength he could muster. Her arms hold him so tightly, and while his leg plagued him with pain, he gave as good as he got, wrapping his arms around her waist. Neither noticed how the room became empty with Remus shuttling out the doctor. My image is who you think I am.

"sorry, I couldn't get here earlier. Mum had me eat breakfast and everything." she sat down on the bed in the space he made for, his leg touching hers.

"what, you would have come here in your pajamas?"

"I would have slept here, if the nurses would have allowed it." Her smile lighted his worries, carried them away to somewhere that nothing could bring them back. And the thought of Hermione in her pajamas. "I'm worried Harry."

"why, you're not the one who's going to get cut open today." he joked, but she took his hand, her eyes refusing to meet his.

"no, I'm not," she replied. "but I wish I was." his thumb rubbed the back of her hand, soft and gentle, for the strength she had given him, the strength that he needed so much in her mind, he gave to her. I am strong because you believe I am. "I wish this wasn't happening to you."

"But it is," Harry looked at her, her eyes still on the ground, the bed, the wall, everywhere but him. "but I wouldn't wish it on anyone else, certainly not you."

"I would do anything to take your pain," Hermione said. "You are the thickest, strangest, most stubborn person I know." he smiled sweetly at her as her eyes found his. "but you have the biggest heart I know, and if it were up to me, you would never feel any pain." her eyes glistened slightly, and Hermione turned away again. I am weak because you believe I am. "You of all people..."

Harry reached out and touched her cheek, and she leaned slightly into it. "yes me of all people, the pressure of the world is upon my shoulders," he said. "and I hold nothing more than a little stick against it, but you'd be surprised what a little stick can do, Hermione, what a little hope can do." he shook his head and lied back down. "I need a favor Hermione, a big one."

"Anything, just ask," she replied. She would move the world for him. But I can move mountains and drain seas, at your command.

"Make sure they do nothing else to me," he pleaded, his eyes bore into her hers, begging even.

"Sure, but I don't-"

"Mrs. Weasley will try to stop any of my pain, and then Ginny..." he trailed off, leaving her to think of his words. "Remus and Tonks will be gone, and Sirius had made the Weasley's my medical proxy, Mr. Weasley will listen to you, hopefully, as long as you explain it as Muggle means. I don't want anything else to happen, please." She didn't understand, and Harry released her, she never could, why he didn't trust any of them, but her. Even Remus he questioned, but her voice, her eyes, her breathe, everything about her, he trusted. For you, I would kill them all, at your command. "Please, Hermione, you are the only person I trust."

Hermione didn't respond, but Harry knew that she would do as he asked. For you, my heart, I am nothing without. And that was all he could ask for, her trust. "I will Harry, for you," she smiled at him, and her eyes found his again. Searching seemed forever passing in but a moments time but he could wait, and now he no longer needed to.

* * * * * *

Harry sat down on one of the steps, his surgery started and the drugs knocked him completely out. Thursday was nowhere to be found, and Harry searched the entire, well, not entire, about ten minutes worth of it, Library with no sign of him. The man was mean to be here, Harry doubted that he could even make the crossover yet. He knew none of the magic or power that Thursday has, the simple act of waving and creating whatever he needed, nor did he know how to call those who were invisible and worked within the Library. Nor did he have any clue why the world around him was now barren and dry, infertile land. His conversation with Hermione has left his heart a bit more at easy, but he still felt like something would happen, something horrible that would change the entire battleground.

"sorry I'm late," Thursday cam running up to see him, or rather, float up, cause he no longer possessed legs. Harry stared at the absent appendages, and Thursday returned the questioning look. "oh, this... yeah... best thing to tell you is that my time is almost up here, I think. Honestly, don't know, hopefully, I'll get to see my beloved again."

"You mention her so much," Harry replied. "who is she?"

"Well, she was a Seer of her community, and I was a lowly city boy."

"sounds pretty cliché," Harry got up as Thursday walked to the doors and pushed them open.

"It was, but in truth, it was simply the first incarnation of our love, when she died the first time, I was crushed, but my heart was bound to hers, and we found each other again, close to sixteen years later. I was a broken man, figuratively and literally, but I didn't care, I found her."

"What was she like?"

"Autumn brown hair, the sweetest smile for children, she adored them," Thursday paused before he entered, his eyes misting up. "her eyes were what captured me. I know that is cliché, but she saw me and I her, and I knew at that moment, that she would be in my life, that she would be my life." he turned to Harry, "ever know someone like that." Hermione's smile flashed across his mind, and he smiled.

"Maybe." Harry walked past the doors into the Library.

"What is left to learn?" he asked the spirit.

"no much really," Thursday responded sheepishly. "You've accepted everything so well, that I'm really surprised you are even comprehending it all."

Harry shrugged. "so why tell me?" He knew that Thursday stopped behind him as Harry continued down into the pillars and stacks of books. "why tell me, when I could have lived without it." he turned around to look at the spirit.

Thursday didn't move, he stood still, and thought. "The next visit Harry, you'll find out."

"Why then?"

"Because it isn't my place to say." he looked apprehensive. "Today, I just wanted to say goodbye."

"You won't leave," Harry replied, and removed a book.

"How can you-"

"Because I know myself, and memories don't fade any more." Harry replied. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a entire bouquet that with another wave, burst into doves. "You won't die until everyone who knows you forgets you. And since I am the new Librarian, you won't die."

Thursday smirked. "i guess you are a good choice then."

For a while they talked of their pasts, Harry learning a bit about the world where Thursday came from. They talked of Harry's past, and all of his worries and troubles, all his pain. And they talked of who Harry' second half could be. "Any ideas?"

Harry shrugged. In truth, he never thought too much about who it could be. The surgery was on his mind, and then there was Hermione and how strange she was acting at times. And seeing her again certainly made him feel better, lifted his spirits and almost took away that emptiness within him, but she could never return what he felt. "there is one isn't there?"

"huh?" Harry looked at the old man. Thursday's appearance had been changing slowly since they appeared, he still didn't have legs, but his coat covered upon them, and his face was aging slowly.

"You drifted off for a moment, lost in thought. Only time I've seen that is when someone is thinking of their loved one. When you truly love someone so much that their simply thought lightens your load." he smirked. "I've had that same look a many a times, and now, I'm glad to see you with it." Harry shrugged. "so who is she?"

He smirked and looked away. "the one person I can't have." he could never have her, she was perfect in every way, with every flaw, for it was the little things about her he needed so much: a simple touch on his arm, the bone-crushing hugs, the smile, her sweet smile to take him away and lift up his world.

"Ahh, often in life, its the one that you think-" Harry screamed in pain, gripping his leg, and fell off the bench they were sitting on. He was breathing deeply and Thursday stood up. "Knod's Halo." but Harry did not hear another word as he was ripped through time and space into the world of the living. As the pain ripped through his entire body.

* * * * * *

Hermione watched as they wheeled Harry into the recovery room. He wasn't pale, but he certainly looked like death crawled over him. He wasn't pale, per se, but he was sweating for some reason. They pulled him off of the the anesthetic a few minutes ago and he should be waking up soon, they said, soon. So now, she would wait for him, along with her family and the Weasleys.

There had been a slight falling out with them, given that she broke up with Ron, and the fact that she or her parents were not even speaking to Ginny, and Molly increasing need to mother Harry, despite the fact that he had Remus and Tonks, and Hermione. He was Hermione's burden, she decided, simply because Molly's mothering was too much for Harry, a boy who had none. He did not need to be overwhelmed by her antics. Even if Harry never did forgive her and be her best friend again, she would be there for him.

He began to stir and opened his eyes, Hermione watched as Dr. Caroline came up to him, and began to check his vitals through the machines and the him personally. She had taken over the case since the previous doctors failed to do anything for him. And now all she could do was wait....

* * * * * *

Harry gutted his scream for a fifth time, or was it sixth. God, the cruciatus spell mimics this feeling, he could swear. His entire body felt as if it were on fire, the cytokines and potassium through is body. He knew of the risks, just didn't realize how much pain he would be in. The doctors warned him, but still, Merlin this was almost too much. He shifted on his bed, sweating up a storm only hours since the surgery, his leg ached, and the morphine they had given him did nothing for this pain. Dr. Granger, Hermione's mother, was sitting next to him, monitoring his condition since doctors left.

"They really.... need to..." he gasped slightly, unsure if he was even talking at the moment. "up...that morphine." he coughed for a moment, then sat back down, sitting up just hurt even more. Moving hurt.

"Oh Harry," Mrs. Granger took a rag to his forehead and tried to cool him down. "they can't, its as high as it goes without being harmful." he grunted again and shifted away, wishing that it was Hermione who was taking care of him. The Grangers were allowed, since they had medical degrees to deal with some basics, after all going through dentist school to be a doctor still means you've had some training. But Mr. Granger removed Hermione as she cried, she couldn't bear to see him in pain, and the Weasley's well, he didn't need nor want Mrs. Weasley hovering over him. Mr. Weasley stood in the back, albeit fascinated with all the Muggle-ness of the world he was seeing. The majority of them went home, save Ginny, Mrs. Wealsey and Mr. Weasley given he was medical proxy for the minor without his guardian about. And he prayed that nothing bad would happen.

"and those same doctors thought bed rest and antibiotics would take care of my pain." he panting. Harry coughed, and a pain shot through his entire body, racing through the nerves to his brain.

"But Harry-" she started, but he quickly shouts at her.

"I know you think I'm not thinking straight."

"yes, morphine does that to you."

"And so does pain, which is why I'm asking for more morphine, Mrs. Granger." He coughed again. "cause it certainly makes you think straight, those opiates." She reaches for his forehead, and he lightly bats her hand away. "my mouth is dry, I'm not sick, -er than the dead tissue in my body. Now, morphine, please." She pressed a button and he felt slightly better.

"You're a brave boy, Harry," she said, wiping his forehead again. The pain died down and he knew that it would be like that for while. He took a deep breathe and lied back down.

"Some trip, it seems," he replied, breathing deeply. "and I'm not brave, just very, very foolish at times."

"Well," Mrs. Granger said, "whatever you may think, you are certainly are a special child."

"I once knew a child," he said, eyes glossy and dull, "he was in a car crash, and slept for six months, that poor child never did wake up." a machine began to beep, and a piece of paper was printed out. Mrs. Granger reached for it. She quickly grabbed the previous one on it after reading the first one. "nurse, he needs more calcium-"

"Ma'am," a nurse replied, "I understand you are trying to help but, please we already gave him some and you are not his attending."

"Unless you give him more of it in the next twenty seconds, he could flatline," Mrs. Granger said.

Harry laughed as she talked to the nurse. Both sets of eyes went to him. "so you can either waste those few seconds and go find another doctor or you give me what this doctor says." The machine begins to beep. And Harry gasped. "looks like you were wrong." The flatline echoed through the room as Hermione entered with her father.

* * * * * *

Harry was in the Library, he knew that much, but he was in his hospital gown, and felt a tad bit exposed, probably because he was in many ways, physically and mentally. But the strangest thing was Thursday, standing there waiting for him, albeit only his face was there. "Certainly keeps getting stranger and stranger doesn't it?" Harry opened his mouth but He was silent. "don't speak, you don't have much time here, honestly, I didn't expect you until I read about you coming here one final time."

He floated over to his friend, and Harry felt an arm upon his ghostly shoulder. "now, listen," Harry shook his head and tried to turn away, why am I even here? "Harry, you need to listen to me." Harry pushed on the ethereal arm only to find his connecting with it. "Harry, listen! We don't have much time, the doctors will revive you shortly." Revive, shortly, what does- "yes you died from a heart attack, but that is not important, this is. Harry listen to me carefully, when you wake up again, you need to go back to sleep." Harry felt completely confused, what the bloody hell does that mean? "okay, you need to go back to sleep." His eyes darted around, am I even in the right place? "Harry, I need you to wake up please." Thursday said. "Please, Harry I need you so much." What are you talking about​? "Please, Harry. Please, I'm begging you." what is going on? What is Thursday talking about? "I"m crying Harry, you've made me cry-" Crap.

* * * * * *

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. His body still ached and now his mind did, and there was this massive weight on his chest, as if Fluffy had decided to sit on him, and then fell asleep. They must have upped his morphine because he couldn't feel much, well except Hermione's hand holding his. He wanted to groan, but couldn't. "shh..." Hermione cooed, her hand soothing his burning forehead. He felt the wet cloth and smiled with all the strength he could muster, leaving only his eyes twinkling. "everything is alright now."

He looked around the best he could, and found nothing more familiar than Hermione so his eyes returned to her. Everything was blurry but her, so at least that was a comfort. For now. "Hermione," he whispered.

"Don't speak Harry, everything will be alright." he shook his head. She was lying, to herself mostly. She needed the hope.

"I need that favor."

"Anything Harry," He gathered his strength, took her hand in his and ran his thumb across the back of her hand. His eyes never wavered from hers, and as parched as his throat was, his whisper reached her ears.

"I need to sleep again, for a longer time."

"you can't die," she gasped, but he didn't let go of her hand, as she tried to cover her mouth.

"Not die, sleep, 'Mione," he swallowed empty spit and continued. "I need to sleep so my body can recover."

"A Coma?" she asked, and her hand over theirs. Harry nodded. "I'm not sure, Harry..."

"please, I-" the pain wracked his body and he went silent, closing his eyes. It seemed to be forever, but slowly it passed, and when he opened his eyes, Hermione was still there. There were other people in the room, but he saw only her, and heard only her. "I need you to make sure nothing happens when I'm in that coma thingy" he swallowed again. And closed his eyes. "promise me."

"I promise."

"Promise me, Hermione," he whispered.

"I promise, Harry,"

"Promise me, Mione," he knew he couldn't focus much longer, a pain was coming shortly.

"I promise you Harry."

"That's three times, Mione," he coughed again. He leaned further back into the bed, but didn't let go of her hand.

She laughed lightheartedly, and smiled sorrowfully at her friend. Harry closed his eyes, or he would have seen Hermione lean down and kiss his forehead ever so lightly, giving her body and soul to her word. Her word was her bound and by her life, she would protect him; a mother her son, a lover her love. Only a god could stop her, and even then, they better be in for a fight. For no one was hurting her Harry, not by her will.

* * * * * *

The doctors explained what was going to happen to him, to follow his wishes. Harry wished that Remus was there, or Mr. Granger. Mr. Weasley was standing by, acting as his proxy for all of this, and nodded as if he understood. At least the rest of the Weasleys were outside, away from him, but so were the Grangers. Only Mr. Weasley was allowed in the room, and that meant Harry was silent for the entire time. He nodded, and watched peacefully as they injected him with the chemicals, and slowly he drifted to sleep.

He arrived at the Library, as he expected, as Thursday had mentioned. But the man he knew would no longer be there. A floating head was all that remained hours ago, and now, Harry doubted that Thursday would exist much longer. But the library before him was not the library he knew and grew to love in the few days since finding it. It was not Him.

Rather, the serene farm lands and fields that criss-crossed across the terrain, flowers coating the ground, butterflies and bees buzzing about, trees dotting the green grass of a long lost home disappeared from the horizon off the steps of the Library, leaving only the barren lightning-riddled land, no trees to climb, just jagged rocks gutted out from beneath the surface and propped up by sticks of rock and metal. Everything had changed.

"Dear Merlin," Harry whispered. He turned around, and the Library stood as gallant and strong as ever, even with the depressing world that surrounded it.

"This way Harry," It was a soft as the whispers of the basilisk, but as fierce as when Voldemort spoke within his mind. Harry spun again, looking for the source, but he found nothing. It could have just been a voice in his head, but nevertheless, Harry walked into the Library. He figured out a long time ago, when here in this odd world, best accept the odd things that happen, save yourself a great deal of headaches.

The Library was empty.

Yes, all the books were gone, and nothing but the Greek pillars and the shelves remained. The carpets, the tapestries, the artifacts. All of it was gone. But Harry knew where to go. "this way."

He walked the corridors for a while, the further he getting, the more disturbing the empty shelves were. Nothing was moving, and even his footsteps sounded dead.

Step by step, marching through, his feet a dying cadence for the shell of a building, he made his way to the atrium. A place he knew, but never visited. Down the path and through the rabbit hole, he never walked this way before, not that he fear, but that he had no interest in what lied behind all the book and deeper in the Library. Here the darkness crept in from outside, bleeding on the walls and crawling on the floor, alive and well, the darkness was.

It was not fear that gripped his heart, only a heighten sense of restlessness. The darkness groping the ground around his feet, crawling as ants on the shelves. His feet gliding almost across the stone floor, there was only the dead slap of his bare soles on the ground, no echo. The cool air gripping him tightly in the hospital garb, a dead wind around his body. The fire trying to flicker and burn on the dying torches. And the sound of breathing that wasn't his own.

Harry didn't know how long he walked the empty corridors of the Library, only that the cold darkness wasn't lessening, and that he hadn't seen a window in quite some time. But in the distance, which was lessening, he found a roaring fire. It seemed warmer as he walked toward there, and in a way, the darkness was pushing him to it.

Literary, he tried to turn round and Harry felt this wall formed of force and shadow, repelling him forward.

Well, Harry was a Gryffindor for a reason. He steeled his heart and took that step forward into the darkness.

* * * * * *

Ginny smirked as she watched Hermione leave with her mother. There was this sad and depressed forlorn looked on her face, and it would be worth everything. That little bint didn't know what Harry, her precious, needed. Only she did and now... now she was going to do what she needed to.

"Mum?" she was curled up next to her mother, who was sitting in the room with Harry. Mr. Weasley had gone with Mr. Granger to visit the cafeteria for some food, talking about various muggle things and such; she really didn't pay attention, all that mattered was she was able to get her dad away from Harry, and now she could work her magic on her mum.

"yes dear?" Mrs. Weasley petted her daughter's hair as though she were a pet. But the leash was always in someone else's hand.

"Harry's in pain isn't he?" she couldn't push or else everything would fair.

"Yes dear, but don't worry," her mother replied. "the doctors are taking care of him."

"Then why is he just laying there?"

"Because he is in pain, sweety." Mrs. Weasley would do anything for her daughter's happiness including supply a weak love potion that can easily be modified.

"Is there any way we can help him." Ginny smirked in her mother's lap as she waited for the response. She knew of a way, the middle ground that the doctors talked about before, by removing part of his right thigh, that would remove the damaged cells along with most of the problems. And when Harry awakened, he would be proud of her for making sure his wishes were know.

See, they talked the night before, and that Harry wanted this to happen, the surgery, but he needed to make sure that no one knew he was in pain. He was really such a dear, coming to her in his direst need, and seeking her protection. Well she would. Ginny would protect her precious from everyone around him, especially that bint know-it-all.

"the doctors talked about this surgery..." Mrs. Weasley trailed off, but Ginny knew. She had caught what she wanted. A gullible mother who would listen to her only daughter. "But Harry said he didn't want it."

"Could it take away his pain?" she asked. "I mean, I know he wants his leg, but isn't there something we can do other than let him sleep. He still needs to kill Voldemort. He needs his leg. So is there a balance"

"The doctors said we could remove part of his leg, the part that is hurt."

"That will help him?" yes, mother, help Harry and help him see that he is mine. "Harry's not thinking straight, if you talked to dad..." She trailed off, letting her mother come to the idea.

"I think it will." For the first time, Mrs. Weasley took her eyes off of Harry. "Do you think it is what he wanted, because Hermione said-"

Ginny sat up with a glare on her face and anger poring from her words. "That girl knows nothing." the anger dissipated and she smiled sweetly and tired. "I mean, I am the one Harry chose right? He told me last night that he wanted the surgery, just so that no others knew about it until now." Now everything work.

"Okay, I'll go tell your father. Think you can watch Harry for a bit?" Ginny smiled and stood up so her mother could move. She hugged the older woman then took the seat right next to Harry, taking his hand in hers.

It started to smoke.

* * * * * *

Harry reached the inner sanctum. There, in the giant coliseum of nothingness and brick, one the north wall, if he were traveling east, which Harry thought he was, was a tapestry of genealogy. And a table sat in the center of this room, where a man was smoking a cigar.

"See, the important thing to remember son," the man pointed to cigar at the tapestry, "is that we are nothing more than specks, who just so happen to possess the powers of gods."

"I prefer to think of it the other way," Harry said, walking down the stairs. The man paused and turned to look at Harry, but he still couldn't see his face. "You are nothing more than speck, and I doubt you possess the power of gods. Me, I think its nothing more than a god who has the power of the speck."

"Just there is many of them," The man replied. "the specks right?"

"correct," Harry finally got to the base and looked around. The coliseum was massive, stretching probably the length of a football field in every direction from the center. A roman gladiator's dream it was.

"Fair enough," the man replied and blew a smoke ring. "Probably wondering who I am."

"Nope."

"No?"

"Nope." Harry walked closer. "I figure you'll tell me eventually after you're through with your games."

The man laughed and stood up. He was a bit taller than Harry was before the accident, though now it seemed like he was growing a bit to match his height. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Harry. In fact, I'm a little hurt."

"Why should I recognize you?" Harry swore the man was familiar, but other than his build, he couldn't see anything really. The man's face was shrouded in darkness, as one wold wear a coat. "hell, I didn't know Thursday until I saw him here for the first time."

"Well, I'd thought a son would know his father," the darkness cleared and standing before Harry was James Potter, wild hair and blue eyes, glasses and everything. A spitting image of himself standing before him and smirking that famous Potter smirk.

"you're dead." no stumbling, no unease, just fact. Harry knew his father was dead, it was one of the prices of being the boy-who-lived. One of many that Harry paid and will continue to pay until Voldemort was dead. All seven pieces of him.

"I'm glad you noticed," James replied. "and you are right, I am dead, but didn't you speak to Elise? Obviously the dead can come back, at least here." But James smirked again. "Unless, I'm not dead in the figurative sense."

"Because dead is relative?" Harry asked, standing back away from James. "Or because this is similar to Elise. Dead but not moved on?"

"No, I've moved on, Harry," James walked over to his son and placed his hands on Harry's shoulder. The Boy-Who-Lived tensed up as his father touched him. He was still weary of all this, and didn't believe what he was seeing. This was not James Potter because if it was, then someone was playing a cruel joke on him. And Harry was used to cruel jokes. "I'm just in my soul's form that all. Its my time for redemption."

"James Potter was a great man," Harry said, refusing acknowledge the image before him. He hadn't taken his hands off of Harry, making the new Librarian uneasy.

"Yes he was, but his past, his ancestry, like yours, isn't." James pushed Harry's face so their eyes can meet. Emerald met emerald. "Its time you learned why the Potters are in Gryffindor, Harry. Its time you learned why all of this is happening in the first place."

James Potter was a noble man, misguided in his youth by arrogance and pride, but most children behaved in that manner, so many people just accepted it. After all, he was friend with Sirius Black, a known trouble maker. The combination filled the halls with more arrogance than normal, even with Slytherins around, which included Severus Snape. Trouble was often found around the two, and thankfully it was rarely malicious towards anyone. The pranks were physically harmless. But, ignoring the overt amount of pride, James Potter appeared to be a normal wizard.

Problem with appearances was what lied underneath. James' father, Jeremiah Potter died during James' fourth summer at Hogwarts, just prior to his return to the school he knew as his second home. Jeremiah took in Sirius after he ran away from the Most Ancient and Noble house of Black, cared for him as he would son. But Jeremiah would not adopt him, no matter how much James pleaded with his father. Somethings were just not worth the risk, the old man would say, and James never understood why, until he was at his father's death bed, and the family history came out.

The first Potter was from a line that stretched into Gryffindors centuries earlier, and further back, as Jeremiah had researched as much genealogy he could on his family, going back past the time of Jesus Christ and the Pharohs. Not many could hold such a claim, but once he reached a certain point, everything fell in place, including what his Father told him.

"and that is an important distinction, Harry," James said, lighting up another cigar. "I'm not talking about my grandfather, Jakob Potter, but rather my Father, thats with a capital F if you were wondering. All male Potter heir's have two fathers, our birth father, which is me for you, and we have our Father. Its passed down through the father or the mother, it doesn't matter. The name Potter was kept for the most part, as there was a certain amount of prestige at that time associated with the name.

"So Jeremiah found the information that Father told him, the history behind the Potter family and why we are cursed so. Because we are cursed, Harry, to an extent. Cursed through the Gryffindor line, because he was the first, and our family when we joined the line was more willing. The Potter line is doomed to Hell when we die from the moment we're born. Which is probably why a great deal of our family is from war mongers and tyrants. Merlin's beard, we're descended from Pontius Pilate if that tells you anything."

"we're doomed to Hell?" Harry didn't follow Christian beliefs so he just assumed that when he died he would just become part of the magic. Sure the Dursley's took him to Church, but he had a hard time believing in a God who left little boys be beaten and treated as though he was dirt and slave to his family. "Why? We've done nothing wrong if we're just born."

"Because." James replied and put out the cigar in his hand. Brimstone filled the air. "Devils don't have the right to Heaven."

Harry didn't say anything. He stepped back from James and walked over to the tapestry of genealogy and touched it, feeling the old linen on his finger tips. "Library!" the lights all turned on around him, as though a switch was finally turned into its proper position. "I don't want to be searching forever in here. Condense!" the command given and the wind blew in toward Harry and James as shelves condense downward and downward.

"What are you doing?" James asked over the wind, holding himself down to the table, even though everything was coming toward him. "aren't you surprised at all?"

"Thursday alluded to why I was gaining the knowledge of the Library, I figure this is it, this power, or at the very least, a part of it." Harry walked down the stairs back to the center. "Upgrade Library, computers, holograph screens the whole- You know what, Batcave, thats what I want. I want the Batcave." The Light flashed and the Library was no more. All that remained was the Bat-cave, taken directly from the comics of the 'world's greatest detective', the morose and sad cave around them was barely lit. A large computer with many keyboards, black and hidden within the cave-wall, appeared where the tapestry was. "Much better." Harry smirked the Potter smirk at James. "continue the story." He turned to look at the computer, trying to figure out how to work it.

"Certainly have a grasp of this place," James remarked. "Lils would be proud."

Harry paused his inspection. "Mum's alive."

"Sorta, the problem with being a phoenix is that you rarely are dead." Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He was power not knowledge, but that didn't mean he was without wisdom. "Shee's been watching over you too. I've taken the role of your guardian angel of sorts and she is watching over your second half, making sure that she is okay." James walked up a flight of stairs that appeared in front of him, leading him to computer and Harry. "Now, will you listen to what I am telling you."

"I'm a demon so what?'

"devil, and there is a difference. An important difference. But we'll cover that eventually. Now, let me show you our history exactly, we have a great deal of time while you're out cold from the coma." And so the Potters discussed Harry's future, his powers and what it meant to be a unique devil, what all this had to do with the Library now open and the demons and devils entering the world again. The whole world was a mess, and Harry was being charged with the responsibility to handle it when James' redemption quest was over, the same shit different day deal. They talked about how Gryffindor was the first devil to break rank from the Father devil, Asmodeus himself. They talked about how the Gryffindor line, and more specifically the Potter since they were the closest to the original line, were cursed to be half-fiends, . Harry was finally feeling he had a grasp on the new situation he was in: being the Library, being a devil, trying to find the courage to tell Hermione how he felt. Everything was going his way for once. Neither knew of his surgery and how the world was ending in a few days.

But hey, everything can't go right.

* * * * * *

Trouble has always been Hermione's friend. Ever since she met Harry Potter, she has been finding herself getting into more and more trouble. Its made her feel so much older than she really was. And now He's back again.

When she and her mother returned from hotel, grabbing a set of cloths for Hermione as she was demanding, not asking, that she could stay with Harry for the night, they were surprised to find his room empty. No bed, no wires, no beeping, no Harry. The two chairs in the room were pushed off to the side and Hermione could have sworn she smelt brimstone within the room. Something had happened, was he alright, where was Harry? The panic must have been obvious on her face, or maybe it was the fact that she started to hyperventilate that caused her mother to wrap an arm around her daughter. "Hermione," Mary said. "you need to breathe. We can't help Harry if you're dead." The joke didn't help the matter and Hermione started sobbing. Where was Harry?

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Granger appeared just as mary got her daughter to a chair, and was trying to get her to talk. "what happened?" Joe asked, walking over to his daughter. Hermione's hair was a messy, worse than normal, and the pony tail she had she was threatening to pull out off her head if she continued yanking it as such.

"Harry's gone," Hermione whispered, and her eyes didn't move from where the bed was.

"No he's not," Mr. Weasley said. Hermione immediately turned to him. "why, he's in surgery right now." he said it as though surgery was nothing, and a little surgery could fix everything in the world. That cutting off Harry's leg would fix everything.

"Surgery?" Hermione gasped. She sucked in a much air as she could, because she couldn't breathe, taking large breathes, shock over ruled her anger for a moment. But that shock was the spark that burned the white heat within her. "He didn't want anything!" She stood up and screamed at Mr. Weasley. "We discussed this, I remember, I was there, I told you specifically that nothing was to happen to him in the twenty minutes I was away. Twenty minutes. Is that too much-" She was advancing on Mr. Weasley, her magic stretching in red lightning all around her, snapping at the fringe and shocking her parents. Why did trouble have to come and find her?

"But dear, Ginny said-" Mr. Weasley tried to speak, but Joe stood up, straight and tall, the ex-soldier he was, trained to be aware of danger and dangerous people.

"I don't care what Ginny said," Hermione shouted . "What mattered what was Harry wanted, not what your crazy daughter thinks he wants. He said no surgery. He said nothing was to happen to him except to remove him from the coma. It was a simple command." She could barely hold back her magic, the red lightning snapping around them, singeing the drapes and smashing a few screens. Electronics and magic never mixed well. The lights flickered on and off, as she glared at Mr. Weasley, though her anger was mostly directed at Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. How dare they do this to Harry. To go against his wishes. The mothering over-bearing woman would be the death of him, and Ginny.... she better wish that Hermione never got her hand on that bint, because that foolish girl was the reason...why...hermione...

She broke down crying. The magic barrage ceased and she fell down to her knees, tears forming in her eyes. This couldn't be, she broke her promise to Harry: she would make sure no bad happened to him, nothing. That he would be safe. The one thing he trusted her with since they got back together and she ruined it. How does trouble keep finding her.

She says its high time she went away, clearly no one listened to her, no one had much to say in this town. Harry was going to hate her now, for breaking his trust. Her whole world kept slipping away, doing down... down.. down...

"Honey," Mary said, rubbing Hermione's back. "Dear, Harry will be back here shortly, right?" she looked up mr. Weasley, and Hermione could only suspect that her mother was glaring at the wizard. "See? He'll be back here shortly, and-"

"He'll hate me, mum," Hermione replied, refusing to move. "I broke my promise. I gave him my word and I couldn't keep it."

"Hermione," she pulled her daughter's face so she would look at her mother. Joe was ushering Mr. Weasley out of the room, who was still surprised at the whole ordeal. "As strong as you are, you can't do everything. Sometimes things like this happen, people don't listen, and others act selfishly." Neither had to mention the name to know who they were talking about. "Tender you'll go through life, and things like this still happen." Hermione nodded, and Mary kissed her forehead.

"Come dear," Mary pulled Hermione to her feet. "we'll go get a nurse to clean this up, I'm sure they're wondering just what happened." Hermione nodded and wiped her tears away, ruining the little make-up she wore for Harry. She wanted to see him today, and even if he wasn't awake, she wanted to look nice for him. For a moment, she stood there, looking at where the bed should be. Her mother walked out, going to find that nurse.

"I'll carry you Harry," she whispered. "A song for you heart, and when it is quiet, I know what it means, and I'll carry you home. Even when others won't, I will."

If she had wings she would fly away. And another day, God would give her some.

Now was not that day.

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