Devil's Lesson One: The Death of one Harry James Potter

The Dark Aeon

Rating: R
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 03/07/2006
Last Updated: 03/10/2008
Status: completed

Formerly Nightmares are not Reality: The world is not what it seems, but rather, Harry finds out just how dark and horrible things turn when he sleeps. Problem is, he slept too long and the world is gonna reach rapture soon, and everything will change. Then he can begin his work. He just won't be alive for it. --Please Read and Review--

Chapters

1. Chapter 1: The Valkyrie Mission

2. Lonely Day

3. Chapter 3: Mad World

4. Chapter 4: So Cold

5. Carry You Home

6. My Heroine

7. Chapter 7: A Brand New Day

1. Chapter 1: The Valkyrie Mission

Let's try this again…

Okay, this is the amalgamation of all my psychotic thoughts and absent hopes. My style is finally evolved to the point where I am happy… the absent of details or the over abundance is how I write; I write what is important and stick to it. Don't dismiss the lack of such words, if the details are missing, then clearly there is a reason for such an absence. Given my hiatus from Portkey, I wish to welcome all who are willing to this strange, albeit creative, reasoning of the world of Harry Potter.

Thus, I being with the questions What If? What if Harry was in a car accident and was placed in a coma? What if this awoke some dark and great power within him, and the world? And What if the Potters aren't dead? And What if they aren't really what they seem? And what if something is happening with Ron and Hermione? Or Ginny and Harry? Or even with Snape? What if Sirius is dead but isn't? What if there is some reason for why all this is happening. What if…. ….

I'm sorry I could go on and on but its time to move on so. I have asked these questions, and found this solution. A plot is the works, as the outline will most likely be written with in the next few days, please expect an update by next week.

As to the authors note, well… I own quite a bit, in fact very few parts of this story won't be mine. Places characters, objects, possibly spells, they aren't mine, but rather they belong to J.K. Rowling. I own the heart, which is the most important part in my crazed mind.

Now, go enjoy and please leave a review.

* * * * * *

Chapter 1: The Valkyrie Mission

If only you'll hold on, just hold on

I'm here and I'm with you

I'm here to, I feel you

We'll get through

I know this, I've seen it

A hundred times, a thousand times

Just one more time

With you and I, I'll pull you close

And then we'll say good bye

Angels and Airwaves

* * * * * *

Beep...

Beep...

Only the heart monitor spoke in the almost empty room. A storm danced over the roofs and the roads of the city, shrouding the hospital ward with darkness. There was an emptiness that touched everyone around, given them the cold of nothing and fear of the end. And still the vacant sounds echoed... Beep... Beep...

Through the heart monitor was the only sound, it was not the only movement. The boy's chest rose slowly and surely, falling just as slowly. Outside his dark room, the doctors and nurses rushed around, readying the patients and the hospital for Christmas Eve. No noise seemed to pass through the window peeing into that world, nor from the door that allowed access to the dark room. Only the sound of the monitor was in the empty ward.

With the shades closed, both to the outside and in, no one saw the light that opened from nothing. The energy grew slowly, taking up little of the room. But with each passing moment, the light grew. The light flashed, covering the entire room in white. As the energy died down, a figure formed. It stood before the fallen boy, watching its chest move slowly up and down. the monitor continued its speech: Beep... Beep...

The figure's form grew more evident with each passing moment, growing arms and legs. An arm stretched out and caressed the boy's face sweetly; the form now looked almost human. Long white hair flowed from the feminine face, and a white dress stretched to the ground over her petite body. “My son,” she whispered, “my beautiful son. What have we done to you?” Her words danced elegantly off her tongue with a voice even the purest of angels would be envious of. The boy took a deep breath as the woman touched his face. He wanted to form a smile again, but the empty sleep held him in his place. His breathes were silent, only with the monitor to mark his heart beat. Beep... Beep...

A flash of black light and another form appeared, but the red glow around the masculine form marked his separation from the woman and the boy. “Funny how everything turned out.” he took his form quickly, but hid within the shadows. “He has your eyes.”

“I know,” the woman stood up. “But he will have your temper.” The man chuckled in the darkness; even the woman's radiant light couldn't touch him. He hung close to the window as he moved closer to the boy. The sounds from outside of the room began to grow, but neither took heed. The heart monitor continued its job, watching over the boy. His steady breaths were slow and heavy, but there nonetheless. A fog came from the breathe of the boy as the female caressed his face again.

“And hopefully my power to back it up.” He smiled tenderly at the boy. “God, he looks so weak. That's your fault you know.” the woman glared at him, but the man didn't back down. “That didn't work before and it won't work now.” He smirked at the woman; continuing to hide within the shadows.

“And your kin have left him here.” The woman placed her hands on her waist. “They left him here to die.” Her voice grew louder and louder, shaking the room. “How dare you come here now, just to watch him suffer? What do you have to say?” The boy's breath came faster and faster. Even he felt the power of the woman, but the man's silence cautioned her.

“We'd never turn on our own,” the man spoke softly, but he held more anger and power within those words than the entire woman's body. “No, we have left him here to live.” With a sharp turn, the man faced the heart monitor. Two red eyes stared at it, watching the heartbeat quicken. The boy's breaking was irregular and fast. It was speeding up. the forms disappeared as the monitor took off, going faster and faster. The door burst open only to hear the heart monitor. Beep... Beep... Beep..Beep.BeepBeepBeepBeBeBeBe -------------

* * * * * *

A dove flew down from the soaked trees. The storm clouds had broken open on Christmas Eve, pouring down all over the city. And though no dark pillows hung over the hospital, the air was still deep and heavy with the weight of the heavens upon it. A silent breeze danced over the streets, thought short and empty. The Earth was holding her breath, waiting for that thirteenth hour to strike. She took another breathe without releasing it, praying that he would awake soon. Even Sister Earth knew of what was to bless her soil, and Brother Sky was watching with his sister, hoping that what will come will answer the prayers of the world.

With St. Mary's of Resurrection, the nurses on the coma ward were opening the blinds and windows, allowing the fresh rain's breath to enter the dreary rooms. There were a few rooms left, mainly the longer-termers, but one of the nurses felt that she was done for the day. She had offered to take over a shift for a friend, and now the lack of sleep was catching up to her. The nurse was sitting down in the nurse's station, trying to get a few moments of rest. Her back was leaning against one of the sides of the grandfather, and her feet were crossed underneath her. The nurse's night before wasn't the greatest; she was mentally and physically exhausted.

Christmas Eve was horrible, with him nearly dying on her. She had spent most of the night watching him as he stared up at the ceiling. He looked so alive and awake, but nothing was there. At least that was what the doctors said that day. His mind was lost after his accident; the nurse knew that at least he was still there, despite the blank stare. It was a car crash that took the lives of the rest of his family, and left him alone, taking his aunt and uncle, his cousin. She had thought that he was with them; the smallest bit of hope for the boy meant hope for her.

With the nurse's eyes closed, she dreamt of her family. She had never known them, with her parents dying when she was young. The rest of her life was alone, even through high school. Here was a boy what was all-alone too. No one came to visit him, unlike the other patients. Many relatives left gifts and flowers for their family last night, but no one had come for him.

Maria said it was best not to call them by their first names; caring for the psuedo-dead was easier to deal without that kind of loneliness and emptiness for the patients hanging over a nurse's head. “Elise,” And then there was Maria, the sleeping nurse thought, sighing out of her empty dreams. “Could you get the Potter boy? His windows aren't open yet.”

Immediately, Elise jumped off the ground. How could she forget Harry? Almost running into her boss of their station, she rushed over to room 13-M. Lying quietly in the dark, clean room was Harry Potter, the boy whom she had fallen for. Everyday after school, she would come and visit him. Some days Elise couldn't make it, but those days were rare and far in between. She told him of her dreams, her wishes, her world and everyday he would listen silently. She called him by his first name, hoping that the sound of his name would give him some comfort. Elise prayed that one day, he would awaken and take her away from this world.

She walked slowly over to him, taking a seat right next to him. Elise smiled at her sleeping friend. His long black hair had grown long, but she shaved him about once a week. He didn't look good in a beard; Elise learned that about after a week caring for him. She stroked his clean-shaved cheek. Some how a length of hair had fallen on his face, and moving with such ease and care, Elise pushed it off his face. He was a handsome boy; a scar was all that the crash had left on his face, running from his forehead, over his right eye to his cheek, complimenting his lightning shaped scar on the left side of his forehead.

One dark and one pale green stared up at her, and she smiled. The eyes were the window to the soul, and at least the hope was back. Last night, there was this dullness to Harry's eyes. His eyes usually held a small sparkle. Hope waited at the back of green orbs, and Elise hung on for dear life, hoping for her dreams and wishes. Now, that optimism stared back at her, this time more than ever. “Stop staring at him, and open the windows,” Maria yelled again. The old doctor never let up.

Elise smiled at Harry one more time before getting up and walking to the windows. The grandfather clock in the nursing station struck one o'clock. Elise didn't notice the boy awaking, for as she opened the window, Sister Earth released her breath and the wind flew into the ward. Elise was distracted by the airflow; a breeze strong enough to cause the blankets and papers to fly around the room held her attention. This distraction led her to miss him blinking under his own free will for the first time in over seven months.

* * * * * *

Being in the light had felt like an eternity to Harry. And he was sick of it. The blinding Light was always there, staring at back him with a glare equal to his aunt's. But finally, there was darkness. Sweet darkness. There was nothing left to burn the inside of his eyes out anymore. There was nothing left to stare at, hoping for change. And with the darkness, morning could only come sometime afterward.

Harry groaned silently; the first thought that came to his mind was that his entire body ached. His muscles felt like years had past since they were used. Even his eyelids that held the comforting darkens couldn't be moved. With as much effort as he could muster, Harry tried to sit up. But all he could manage was a groan. The ache was stronger now. Even his teeth hurt him. “Harry?” A soft and gentle voice echoed in the darkness. He had heard it from the Light before, but what the angelic voice had said he couldn't remember. There was only that bright sight of nothingness, and the emptiness of the beyond was what prevented Harry from fully leaving. “Harry?” The voice belonged to a girl. He felt a gentle caress on his cheek. “You awake?”

Again, it took a great effort, but Harry opened his eyes. The Light returned, yet only for a moment. Staring back at him were two beautiful green eyes. The girl's long black hair hung around her face, falling onto Harry's chest. She had a petite body, built from years of insecurities and the media's influence. But it was her eyes that interested Harry the most. Each one held a different story; filled with hope and care. Two viridian orbs stared intently at their charge. A smile came on her face. They reminded him of his mother, but the care in them was someone else's, someone whose name he couldn't remember.

“Hey,” Harry tried to say, but his throat was extremely dry. His mouth felt like it had been months since he spoken. He tried to breath through his nose, but there was something blocking his nasal passage. His hand barely left whatever he was laying on when he tried to lift it.

“Relax.” The girl placed a hand on his forehead. “You're in a hospital. St. Mary's of Resurrection.” Harry recognized the name; it was for long-term patients, he was threatened with it once, most who had no chance of recovery. Why was he here? “It's been seven months.” Seven months, he thought. That was impossible. The day before he was returning for some place, what place was it?

Harry tried to remember, but his head began to ache. Pain echoed through his body. He grunted in as his body throbbed from lying still for so long, bucking his body up. Squinting his eyes shut, Harry held all the pain in. He never complained, he never will. Life was too short to whine, his uncle once told him. The ache subsided, leaving Harry with thoughts of his family. The last night he could remember came slowly back to him, filling his mind with images of the crash.

“the Dursley's,” Harry choked out, whether from the lack of using his vocal cords or from the pain he was holding in. Real men don't cry, his uncle's word echoed in his nephew's mind. But his father's voice wasn't the only thing he remembered. Harry could still hear the screams of his aunt, the busting glass. The heat from the engine still circled around his body even after all this time had passed. All he could do was pray that they were all right.

“I'm sorry,” the girl said. That was all that Harry heard. He let his head fall to the pillow and stared out the open window. Over the past few minutes, depressing clouds had been forming over the city. Harry noticed the dimming sky, and felt comfort from the darken world. There was no reason for light, no reason for happiness.

Angst hit with realization of what happened; the thunder rolled and the lightning struck. Brother Sky began to cry for his brother's loss. The morning birds mourned with Sister Earth, no longer singing joyful songs, but rather dirges and requiems of those who passed, those who were loved her brother, despite their treatment of him. His pain echoed with each crash upon the sandy shores, his tears with each drop of rain, his loss with each breeze. The whole world lamented for this single child. Such loss had not been felt in many years.

“Harry.” He didn't move. Instead, he just watched the clouds breaking their seals and releasing the tears that were pouring down on the city. Harry didn't even hear her speak. It was impossible; they couldn't be gone. “Harry?!” I hate them; I hate them so much, but never wished this on them I would never wish it on any on. Why were they gone? Why did they have to leave like everyone else in my life?

The comforting darkness had returned, slowly creeping upon his emptying mind. There was nothing to hold him to this world, nothing to keep him alive, nothing to bring him happiness. The sweet Darkness called to him, pulling him back into sleep and away from everything that could hurt him.

* * * * * *

Four months passed as Harry worked through a speedy recovery, as much of a speedy recovery one could have while still working on his injuries from the crash as well as the deterioration of his muscles. He required physical therapy once every other day, wearing him out completely as he pushed himself to his limits. It would be a year since his crash as June began to crawl up to them. He watched out the window. His memory, while mangled and mashed from more than just the car crash, had returned and he knew of his quest. And as much as it burned him to wait and hide, he knew he had to. Even Elise agreed.

Harry sighed. “Elise,” his words left his mouth with but a breath. She was there for him, his anchor and his rock. He wouldn't, couldn't, contact his friends. Merlin, he even told Remus to make sure they didn't know. His time away left Harry with a new sense of right and wrong, and something just wasn't right with what was happening. He trusted Remus and Elise right now; they were the only ones who know of his secret thoughts. And she knew only of his feelings.

His hatred that burned for the one who put him here ached within him, his muscles occasionally cramping from his thoughts of the bastard. Voldemort's hands were clean of this murder, as were all death eaters. A simple drunk drive, whom, thanks to Remus, Harry knew was released scott-free. The man should not have been allowed to walk outside. Hell, he was allowed to keep his license, even after that bloody DUI.

His loneliness that echoed in his heart as he thought of his friends who ere far away, enjoying their lives. From what Remus told him, they returned to school with Harry's disappearance, and that was all he could get from his adopted godfather. He didn't talk with them, or even try to contact them. In fact, he told Remus not to contact them. He didn't need or want them now. He needed something else

His love for the girl whose heart help heal him so fast. Elise's beauty grew in his mind each day he looked at her. She was wise, explaining everything with such serenity and acceptance. She was able to help him through the worst of the pain, and got in contact with Remus. He still was unsure about his situation, but he knew he was better thanks to his friends, his new friends. Some time in the past month, Harry asked Elise about being able to get out and see the city. Her green eyes danced with excitement and she quickly worked the doctor so it was possible for them to leave. After the show and dinner, which Harry was able to pay for thanks to Remus getting him money, he asked her out. She looked so beautiful in her simple white blouse and her jeans. Elise was a petite girl, whose despite being somewhat obsessed with the modern world of fashion, held such an inner beauty that he didn't think someone could match it. You are wrong again Potter, he thought, Hermione could. But Harry didn't think about his other friends, he didn't want to. They didn't matter to him right now. From his questioning of Remus, they had no desire to contact him.

Elise, on the other hand, was more than happy to be around Harry. As much as he didn't approve of hero-worshiping, hers was based on his simple ability to listen and be there. She told him about how she would talk to him, Harry smiled, remember the voice of someone while he was out. She was there for him, just as much as he was there for her. Each day, he would look forward to her arrival, despite her troubles with her high school. Elise was something else, and Harry knew that. He knew of her troubles, in school and at home, for Elise lived with her single mother, a squib, who struggled with menial labor. In her school, she was alone, with almost no real friends whom she could talk. Two weeks past, Elise informed Harry about her lack of a social life. As the shy boy he was, Harry looked down at his lap and said softly, I'll be your friend. Elise's small arms wrapped around him and held him tightly. Harry would never forget how much she cried that day, to finally have a friend. And everything was up hill from there, leading to their relationship.

She was his rock, just as he was hers. And in truth, Harry needed her lately. With the lack of information on the war against Voldemort from Remus, and even attacks against Muggles, Harry's mind raced with possibilities of what was happening. Remus' lack of knowledge worried Harry, but he knew that the lycane had very good reasons for dropping off of the radar of both the Order and the Ministry. As did Tonks, whom Harry learned rather recently, two days ago, was staying with Remus. The world was changing around them, and Harry felt like Rip Van Winkle.

He smiled as he felt hands wrap themselves around his waist. “Hey, you,” he said softly, knowing she heard. His hands found hers, soft and smooth, welcoming his own. Peace had returned to him with her. His doubts and his worries drifted away as his hands locked into hers.

“I thought of you,” she whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “I couldn't concentrate during my English class, my thoughts were so focused on you.”

“I know that feeling,” Harry turned around, his hands finding her waist, just underneath her open sweater. She wore a light blouse, and he could see down the neckline to her black bra if it fell just a bit more. The blue blouse hung on her small curves, her waist, while not twig-like, wasn't large either, and Harry could wrap an arm around her, completely. “I thought of you too,” he replied, and leaned down for a kiss. He was about a foot taller than her. She leaned back slightly and welcomed his lips to hers, and moaned softly as he pressed down harder, begging for more. This relationship was so much more than what he had with Ginny. Ginny was… he didn't have the words for it yet, but he would. With Elise, it was love, and it was the most wonderful thing he had. “I've decided something,” he pulled away, smiling at Elise's playful frown. His hand moved to hers and Harry limped to the bed, taking her with him.

He was getting better at walking; his muscles were strengthening just fine. He was a few stories up now, closer to the roof where he could watch the sun rise and set, the moon wax and wane. It was wonderful. Elsie transferred to be his personal assistant trainer. She transferred him to and from the room to the physical therapist, as well as some other patients, but the physical therapist seemed to understand her connection with Harry, and took her on, opening a whole new world for his girlfriend. She had a mentor for physical therapy, and possible a true gift in it. Elise had been talking about college and Harry said she should try for it. “Decided what?” she asked, standing in front of him as he sat down, his hands going to her waist. He just smield as if he knew the greatest secret in the world, a

“I've decided that as much as I would die for anyone, including you,” he looked down, blushing a bit, “I'd kill for you, if you'd ask.” Harry whispered the last bit, he had to. He never wanted to kill anyone, except Voldemort but that was out of duty, not want. To have a life, a normal life, he would kill the bastard for Elise.

A tear came to her eyes, and Elise wrapped Harry in a hug, crying on his shoulder. He was a pacifist, as far as she knew, from everything he said and the way he acted, he was. Harry didn't like violence and only acted in necessity, not want. But his words were true, he'd kill for Elise if she asked him. “You've taught me to live again, even though we've been together for short time. I can't thank you enough for that.”

“There is one way,” Elise smiled slyly and sat in Harry lap. She rested her head on his shoulder. “But I said I could wait.”

“Really?” Harry looked at her then door. As he closed his eyes, Harry concentrated; back at school, he failed at wandless magic, as well as silent casting, but he knew he could do it, but for some odd reason, he failed miserably. Something had changed inside of him, some part, and now everything was different. He waved his hand and closed the door. Elise gasped; she knew of his magic, his abilities to cast spells and such, but she had not seen it until now. His wand was missing, Harry assumed that Remus knew of its resting spot, but had yet to bring it up. He wasn't worried yet, but knew that when the time comes, he would need it again. The lights dimmed slight. “Do you want to?” His hand found the soft silk-like skin of her stomach.

Elise smiled at him, and Harry was surprised as she removed her sweater and then her blouse. “No.” the last cohesive thought in Harry's mind was that she wasn't wearing a bra. And for the first time over in the seventeen years of his life, he was normal; he was Just Harry.

* * * * * *

Harry sighed and pulled Elise closer to him. He was leaving the hospital today, with his girlfriend. She agreed to come with him to wherever Remus was taking them, and for once, Harry could have a normal summer, if just for a bit. He planned to train, but with his girlfriend there, supporting him, he would excel, he would achieve what he could not before, the power he knows not. That power was but a hand's width away from him and Harry could push himself that last little bit to achieve what he wanted so badly: his freedom. Freedom from his damn prophecy, freedom from all the wizarding world, freedom to choose how to live his life. And for once, he had a reason to accomplish all of this, and more.

The wind outside howled, practically pounding upon his window. Harry wanted to watch the sun rise, but the clouds hid the glorious orb of heat from the world. While he still had a slight limp, Harry could walk at almost a normal pace. The mornings were renewal for him, and before the sun would rise, he would and limp over to the window to watch it, and renewed his promise to himself and the world. He couldn't see the sun, and he had no idea when to make his promise. It just wasn't the same.

Harry attention turned to the girl on his shoulder. She was beautiful, in every way. The hero worship was out of fantasy, and she loved the man he was, the gentle caring man whom wished to save her from everything wrong in her life, just as she helped save him from the worst of his memories. She was there when he talked about Sirius and there when he talked about Dumbledore, and even forced him to talk about the Dursley's. Elise was his anchor, more so now that they had slept together.

“Honey?” Harry asked. His hand had found its way to beneath her t-shirt and was tracing circles on her lower back, threatening go down her jeans. Not that she minded.

“hmm?” she asked, snuggling closer to him.

“You up for being with me when I get out?” Harry asked. “I want to pay you as a formality, cause I know you wouldn't mind being with me for free.” Elise kept her eyes closed, focusing on his hand on his back.

She sighed and pulled away, a hand pushing down on his chest. “I told you before,” She said, “yes, I would love to be with you, and I don't care about the money.” She smiled. “but since you are offering, and it will help with college.” Harry laughed as she giggled, nuzzling his neck. She felt so warm and soft, like a porcelain doll who needed to be held, not that he was complaining. She pulled away and Harry could see the beginnings of tears. He was giving her a future, something she wanted so badly. Something he wanted to be part of.

“Good,” he replied and leaned up to kiss her. He kissed her softly, only to have two arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled away. Elise's tears flowed onto his shoulder and Harry whispered softly. “It's okay, shh, I'm here now, and everything will be alright.”

“I know that's why I'm crying,” Elise replied. “You've been so wonderful to me. My life was horrible until you came into it and I-” Harry didn't let her continue. His lips were on hers.

“No more,” he said, gently kissing each tear as they fell. “The past is a horrible, horrible place. Thank Merlin we don't live there.” She smiled at his colloquialism “we live in the present. And in the present, we are together. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, so the best I can say is I love you, Elise. Don't doubt that, cause then your in then past.” Harry kissed her one last time before leaning back down and closing his eyes.

“I love you Harry,” she said, “No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

“Okay,” Harry replied, though didn't understand why.

“I promise that everything will work out for the best.” Again Harry didn't understand, but knew better than to argue with his girlfriend. Right now he was happy to be waiting with her for his new guardian. They were waiting on Remus to come and pick them up. He said that Tonks might be coming instead, cause the full moon was in a few days, but Harry didn't get a straight answer out of him. Still, he wasn't complaining about the extra alone time with his girlfriend.

He left the window open outside, listening to sirens and the wind and all the wonderful sounds of the city. Harry closed his eyes and just listened to the world around him: his girlfriend falling slowly to the land of dreams, her head on his chest: the grabbled words of the people outside, shouting over orders for taxis and food; the birds chirping and singing softly, songs and dirges of the world that bless everyone who takes that single infinitely small moment to just listen, truly listen, and then the world would be right. These sounds were the sounds of happiness to him, they were sound of life, and that's all that matter: people lived and dreamed and moved on, existing while not in total harmony, but enough to understand how their actions affected others. The war was going to change all of that, the refusal of that acceptance of their actions, but rather the acceptance of power over weakness, and refusal to give in. The stupidity was marked by the increase in murders and accidents across the globe, the war shown through the cloudy sky in little rays, saying when the clouds part, I will crush you beneath my heel. These sounds of the world were the warning sirens that exploded as he planned for the war, who was needed, what was need, how many would die before Voldemort truly understood fear. The stupidity of his people marked by that simple Mark, a grave error upon the existence of mankind, an error shown through the arrival of Hitler so many years ago, and Napoleon the years before that war monger. History is doomed to repeat itself, for the good man stands back and watches as the rest as taken away, and he alone stands at the gallows, asking who will come for me when he came for no one. No more

As much as he wanted to sleep, he couldn't; his mind racing through his life and going through all the pain and sorrow, searching for that love he wanted so badly, each moment flashed for an infinitely small period of time, rushing through his life. The experience was exhilarating, a true rush as if Harry was flying. He found all that love, where he could, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall, everywhere he could, but now, now what he had was so much more than simple friend ship, a simple relationship. This must be what Ron feels about Hermione, he thought and stretched slightly. Love was not this simple word that could be said so easily as if `hello' or `goodbye'. No, love was this wonderful state of life where one's happiness is nothing but existence; rather it was him. Each breathe was meant to love this sweet girl within his arms, the one that gave herself fully to him and him to her. This was peace… and he was happy with it…

Peace was not meant to last. Thunder boomed outside, shaking the hospital. Odd that there was no lightning, but Harry did not think of it at all; at least, until the lights flickered he thought nothing of it. At least until the lights flickered again, then went completely out. The back up generators took over, illuminating the hallways and the critical systems. “odd,” Elise sat up. “I'll be right.”

“Elise, just stay here, I'm sure they have people working on this,” Harry said, refusing to release her hand.

“Harry, honey,” she cupped his cheek, “I need to help, kay? I'll be right back with some more information as soon as I can.” Harry nodded, but looked sad. “I'll be right back.” Elise leaned in and kissed him. As she pulled back, Harry tried to come with her, but her hand kept him down. “Everything will work out, kay? I promise.”

“Just be careful,” Harry sighed, knowing that it was a battle he couldn't win.

She smiled her perfect smiled and kissed Harry on his nose then his scar before saying, “I will be.” She ran out of the room, and Harry felt his heart leaving him. He felt his energy too and slowly drifted away, drifting out of the real world to his fantasy where his happiness would never leave him, drifting to the gates of Dream.

* * * * * *

Harry woke up to a red room, the lights no longer their dull white, but red, not brilliant or bright, but this blood red that burned the soul by touch. There were screams in the distance and he sat up quickly, looked around. His room was normal other than the strange colored lights. He figured that they were just part of the generator, nothing wrong. The screams echoed around him and Harry quickly stood up out of his bed. The room spun around him and he grabbed the post to hold his body up; he felt his body racked with vertigo, the room constantly spinning around him. His body regained some sense of balance, but the world wouldn't stop shifting, from one side to the next, as if he was rocking on a boat. He stumbled to the door, his limp and the shifting room gave no help to him. Harry threw the door open, and walked into the blinding red light.

The hallway was just as bad, the door twisted and tormented by some unseen force, groaning under their weight and the weight of another. His nose was assaulted by the stench of something he knew from that fateful night in the Ministry: blood. It had been so long since that pungent aroma plagued him with its pitiful power that Harry forgot just what exactly that smell meant. He continued to walk down toward the screams, realizing that Elise wasn't with him.

This place seemed so dream-like, the walls shifted up and down, left and right, and Harry was falling into them as he walked down the hallway toward the direction that he though the screams were coming. Slowly, he made his way down the hallway, the screams tearing him apart, almost physically. The emotions were brutally, scratching at who he was, trying to burn him in the pain that the person screaming felt. The smell of blood was strengthening, solidifying around him. The room began to swim, and Harry almost lost his balance. Someone needed his help, and that blast saving-people-thing cursed him, even in a horrible moment like this, forcing him to continue down the shaking hallway, shifting left, then right, then right again, oddly enough.

He recognized the hallway as he came to the nurse's desk, the paintings crying blood, the rivers bright red and flowing through the oils and pastels, the screams from the people within it. Unreal, but truth in the wounds on the falsities of the world, it reflected the world around Harry. He took his final step into the lion's den and opened his eyes to the horrors inside, believing and seeing that pain is inevitable and final, that true evil was possible.

A beast was standing over a body, tall and dark with a black cloak hovering over its lanky body. It stood seven feet tall, and arms reached its knees, its hands, claw-like fingers dripping in blood and the other holding a wand rather awkwardly. The beast turned to Harry, smiling and showing the bony teeth beneath its hood. The eyes, Harry had never seen such hollow eyes before, lost and devoid of any true emotion, only satisfaction on the job and the pain inflicted. The skin was stretched, forcing the face into a twisted smile, pale and rotting. “Potter,” the beast groaned, the smiling increasing if possible. “she… was… good.” The smile stretched this time nd drool fell from its lips, a long and diseased tongue slipped out of its mouth and hung there.

The girl moaned and Harry's heart stopped. He knew that voice, no matter what condition it was in; he knew that voice. Harry doubted if he could ever forget it. “Elise,” Harry whispered. Her face, covered in sweat and tears, was peeking out around the desk. Her once beautiful black hair was damp with blood and sweat, both her own, and he prayed that it wasn't anything more, but he knew he was wrong. He was dead wrong. He felt drain, as all energy left his body for but a single moment. His fears were realities, and his reality, his happiness, was no more. He felt her pain, could see her eyes and know that the horror that coursed through her mind and body was something that no one should have to suffer.

Harry felt his body begin to boil as his anger took over. It was his similarity with Voldemort, that eternal anger that control him, rather than be controlled. His power was dark, his soul hardening against he pain he felt and the agony that beset it, body began to glow red, turn the room and the hallway back to its normal color. He just stared at the beast before him, his power increasing, growing and growing. There was no bound for his anger, his hatred, his sadness. Before him, tattered and torn, battered and worn, was his love, and they dare think that they can get away with it. He closed his eyes as he gathered all his power and tried to focus.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was in a small cramped room, with cleaning and medical supplies all around him. In his arms, crying and holding him with all of her strength was Elise. She was raped, repeatedly and in the most painful manner possible. She was violated, tortured beyond the comprehension of man. Harry knew what spell plagued her, a modified Cruciatus Curse to torment her until she was dead. The pain compounded with itself, and there was nothing Harry could do, no cure or counter curse. He didn't know how he knew, he just knew. And the thing that hurt the most, the thing that caused his tears to pour with hers, was that he was losing her in the worst way possible, with no chance of helping her. “No,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Dear Merlin, no.”

“Its-its-its al-alright, Har-Har-Har-” She couldn't speak right; the pain was too much. Her body was suffering and falling on her, the tears didn't stop.

“If only you'll hold,” he sung softly to her, “just hold on, I'm here and I'm with you.” He kissed her on her forehead, tenderly and with all of his heart. “I'm here too, I feel you, We'll get through.” His arm wrapped around her and held her head close to him as she began to seizure. They listened as the pain she felt left her slowly, she would still die, but she wouldn't hurt as much. “I know this, I've seen this, a hundred times,” Harry sniffed, trying not to sob uncontrollable as the love of his life was dying in his arms. “a thousand times,” his tears began to fall, “just one more time,” he leaned in, “With you and I, I'll pull you close,” and kissed her soundly on the lips. “And then we'll say good bye.” The light about them shattered, sparks landing on the Boy-Who-Lived and his died love.

-->

2. Lonely Day

Author's Note: Okay I apologize for updating so slowly. UP until now, I haven't had really time nor drive to write. Working 42 hours a week hurts, but I'm at college now, and I have this weekend off, mostly.

I happen to enjoy how well this chapter turned out. I finally had the descriptions created for everything in my mind and with Harry fighting and the emotions that Hermione is feeling, I enjoy the outcome. Part of my style is to appease no one but myself, so I write a story I want to read. I hope everyone else enjoys this, and please read and review. I 'll field any questions on the subject of my story.

Again I own nothing, but if I did, I would have killed off Ginny, Draco, and Peter, have Harry and Hermione going out, and make sure that both Dumbledore was still alive... read Joseph Campbell to understand what is happening. Honestly, this is a corny series if you read enough fantasy. But I love it nonetheless, enjoy:_)

* * * * * *

Chapter 2: Lonely Day

And if you go,
I want to go with you

And if you die,
I want to die with you.

Take your hand and walk away.

- Lonely Day-System of a Down

As Remus pulled down the street, he couldn't help but watch the fire engines fly past him. Something was wrong. Something was terrible wrong, and here was was, stuck behind blocks of traffic, waiting for this god forsaken Muggle method of movement to hurry up just so he could pick up his nephew. In truth, no blood held them, but they were closer than ever before. Remus spent over seven months of his life, looking for Harry, and when he found him, he refused to let go of the last bit of his family. James and Lily were his family, just as Harry was.

He connected with the boy, spending as much time as his disease and girlfriend would let him, which turned out to be quite a bit. Harry would be surprised to see Tonks with him, but it was a good surprise, one worth having in a world where so much sadness and pain echoed within the remnants of daily life. Nothing was the same with the death of Dumbledore, nothing. And happiness was such a precious commodity, that he couldn't blame Harry for seeking out Elise as he did. Despite the fact that he always though the boy would get together with Hermione, the relationship was good for him, to have someone love him for being him was something that no once could take away.

Traffic was beginning to move and Harry was only a few blocks away. But they were being directed down a side street, away from the hospital. The officers motioned for them to continue down the alley way, cars were filing out a few blocks down the way. Remus slammed on the breaks as he looked at the smoke rising from what remained of the hospital. The driver behind him honked loudly, telling the lycane to move, but Remus couldn't. He just stared at the holocaust before him, an explosion increasing the efforts of the firemen. The flames stretched out, grabbing at the men below, battling courageously against the beast within the building.

“Sir,” the constable said, tapping on the window. Remus rolled it down, but his attention didn't change from the hospital. “We need you to-”

“what happened?” Remus stuttered out, his eyes on fire.

“Sir, please can you-”

“My godson, oh Merlin,” Remus said, his hand covering his mouth.

“Sir, if you would just-”

Remus didn't listen. His body moved on its own, opening the door and exiting. Immediately, he broke into a run towards the hospital, hoping to save what was left of his family. His real family, the one who took care of him during his Hogwarts years. Being a lycane was not an easy life, and to have friends gave him that little bit of hope he needed to survive. Three of his friends were gone, and one betrayed him, now all was left was this boy, no man, who embodied all the good that came James and Lily.

There was so much in his life that Remus had to forfeit because of his disease, and now he had a chance to have it all, and give it all to Harry. That would be his way of repaying James for the kindness, and Lily for her generosity. This was all that he could give them, and now, he could lose that chance.

“Remus,” a reached out and grabbed him. He spun around to see Tonk standing there, tears in her eyes. She pulled her best friend closer and held him tightly as she cried into his chest. She knew of his love for the boy, and the wish for redemption.

“Harry?” the lycane asked, “where is-”

“He wasn't inside, Remus,” Tonks said, pulling away. “Someone said that a boy around Harry's age ran outside just as the fire erupted. He was the only one to leave.” Remus hadn't even questioned the fact that Tonks was here, just her being around him was a comfort to the pain of losing Harry.

“So,” his tears slowed as he tried to think of the words that once meant so much to him, his comfort before friends. “he's-he's not here?” Tonks gave him a weak smile as Remus pulled the Auror closer. “he's alive,” Remus picked up his friend and spun her around, “He's alive. My godson is alive.” As Remus put down Tonks, he noticed the constable staring at them, tapping his foot. “Sorry, constable,” Remus replied sheepishly, and returned to his car.

“Park at the gas station,” Tonks said, “I'll explain what I can from there.” Remus nodded and pulled away, traffic continuing to move down the street, bottle-necking into the abyss and exiting into the peace oblivion of ignorance.

* * * * * *

“Ron!” Hermione shouted at her boyfriend. Honestly, the boy was deaf.

“What!?” Ron replied. He already had shoveled a plateful of food into his mouth, and barely paused to speak anything. Hermione sighed and shook her head. Three weeks since she had given her most precious gift to him, and its been that long since he even touched her like he did that night. It was brief, but it was wonderful. At least, she thought it was. Now, there were thoughts of the past, thoughts plaguing her of 'what if's and 'why not's.

“Can't you slow down your eating for just one moment?” She asked but knew better than to expect a solid answer. Ron was the human garbage disposal, and he wouldn't stop until he was full, or his attention was shifted. Of course, Hermione couldn't get him to focus on her at all. She was drifting out of his mind.

“why?” Again with mouth full of food. Had he any manners at all?

“We need to talk about Harry!” Hermione nearly shouted at him. For what would be a year in a month, Harry had been away, and for almost the same timespan, they had been avoiding the topic of their best friend. Hermione clung to the knowledge that Ron loved her, and that she loved him. Now why past-tense, missy, she asked herself. You do love him. She didn't doubt that fact, he was the love of her life, and that knowledge should be enough to satisfy her. Should be.

“now, Herms,” Ginny came bouncing into the diner hall, smiling and holding a letter. “you know as well as I do that Harry is fine. In fact, he even says so-” She pointed right at a line and Hermione's eyes quickly read it. Sure enough, in Harry's messy scrawl stating that he was perfectly okay, a bit tired and wasted from training, but okay nonetheless. Again, there was no information upon his whereabouts, but Harry did profess his love and undying devotion to the red head girl in front of her. “so relax. Besides, you don't need Harry, you have Ron.” this time, even her boyfriend remained quiet. “What else could you want?” Hermione had no answer. Why did she need more than Ron?

“Well, this is interesting,” Luna said, walking past them, her paper upside down and her eyes staring down at it. Miraculously she avoided all the feet and bags spread about on the floor.

“why? Whats the Quibbler say this time?” Ginny asked with a smirk.

“Oh, its not the Quibbler,” Luna turned to the upside down front page. “its the Daily Prophet. And its about the Library.” Ginny and Ron gasped, while Hermione stared at the girl, hoping she'd disappear. Whenever Luna appeared, all attention from Ron went to her. Not that she was jealous or anything like that, but a girl does like a bit of attention everyone once in a while, and with her boyfriend focused upon the blond, it wasn't really fair to the bookworm.

“Library? Whats happening?” Ginny asked. Hermione didn't feel like asking a question, especially since she would hear no end of it, for not even knowing what so important about a library. But Ron had go and be the gentlemen and properly explain it to her. Bloody git.

“the Library is the home of the dark magic in the world, Herms,” again that dreadful nickname. She'd kill Ginny for ever giving it to her. “thankfully, it hasn't been even close to this world in-”

“six hundred, sixty six millenniums have past, Ron,” Luna said, smiling. “No, not only is it close, its said to be opening.” the Great Hall fell silent. The death of Dumbledore, the numerous losses over the year from Voldemort, and now, the Library was opening up.

Ron leaned close to Hermione. “They say that if the Library were ever to open up, droves of demons would escape and destroy the world.” he paused and leaned back a bit, and Hermione released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Lately her boyfriend had been making her feel uncomfortable. Stupid even. “How long until they escape?”

Luna looked oddly at Ron, which, oddly enough, is a big difference than her normal look of confusion. “Until? They already have.”

* * * * * *

Remus and Tonks were searching the city for Harry, no one had seen him since the hospital fire. There were no survivors, and deep within his heart, Remus knew that his charge was still alive. Hope was a dangerous weapon, and it pushed the lycane forward, searching for that last bit of reasoning and love. It was a gun against his temple, urging him into the darker and empty places of the world, the ones that a person could slip right through. That was where Harry would be. That would be where his hope lied.

They abandoned the car, hoping to find wherever Harry went on foot. That was there only option. Harry must be out there. He had to be.

They searched for hours, walking the decrepit streets of the decaying city. Never had he seen so much decadence, debauchery, even the smell of death lingered around this city. What was the world coming to? What was destroying their happiness? “if only you knew the whole truth, Remus,” Harry's voice echoed down from a what they thought was an empty alley.

“Harry?” Remus broke into a run, trying to find the source of the voice. Tonks followed him, yelling for him to be careful. He couldn't find the boy, where was he.

“If only you knew why this world is falling apart.” Harry voice said. There was no body, the voice came from the shadows, echoing down to the street itself. “If only you saw the pain that coursed through their bodies, Remus. If only you saw that fear that would haunt the very few survivors, Tonks. If only you saw what I saw, then you'd understand, my family. You'd understand why we've failed.”As if stepping out of the shadows, Harry appeared, worn and beaten, blood all over his cloths, his own and that over others. You could not hid the smell of blood from a lycane. His eyes were blood-shot, and his cheeks had trails of tears. “Remus, I-I-she-”

Surprising, Remus was not the first to move to Harry. Tonks reached the boy and hugged him as tightly as she could. “I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry.” his tears began to fall again, soaking Tonks' shirt became soaked. Remus walked over to the woman holding Harry. He knew the other person's blood, Harry cared greatly for the girl. He loved her, he loved a person with his full heart, giving her everything he had. And to know that she's dead must be brutal. But that didn't explain- “Harry, whats with the other blood,” Remus asked, taking a step forward. He knelt by Tonks and looked directly at him. Harry pulled back a bit.

“Other blood?” Harry looked down at this shirt and saw the layers of caked blood all over him. His feet gave out on him, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Harry!” Remus caught him just as he began to fall. “we need to take him back.”

“Agreed,” She said. Remus picked up Harry and carried the exhausted boy back to their car. Tonks stay right by his side, gently petting Harry. This is how it should be, Remus thought to himself. He'd denied any relationship with Tonks, but the sight of Harry in the arms of someone he loved rekindled the notion that maybe he deserved love. He caged his heart because of the lycanthorpy, and slowly, Tonks tore down the walls around him, brick by little brick. Now, when he needed someone the most, she was there, holding his body as he cried at the thought of almost losing harry, jumping up and down with him at the news of him still being alive. She was there in every step, every step that mattered.

Remus paused, standing still and watched at the Metamorph walked a few more feet. “Something wrong?” she asked, walked back to the lycane. He looked at the sleeping boy in his arms (who was a lot lighter than he looked, which was a topic Remus would drill him on later) and back to Tonks.

“For once in my life,” Remus smiled genuinely, “no. Nothing is wrong.” If he could, he would have kissed the woman in front of him, but with Harry in his arms, Remus settled for a smile and a twinkling in his eyes. Tonks returned the smile, knowing what was to come. He finally understood what she offered him, and now, he returned that love.

* * * * * *

“He's resting,” Remus said, walking down the stairs. He took a seat next to the Tonks on the couch, playing with a small vial in his hand.

“Whats that?” she moved closer to him, until she was holding his arm against her chest, her chin on his shoulder. If Remus wasn't so tired and worried about Harry, he would have kissed Tonks, but a smile would have to hold his friend, a smile with a promise of more.

“This,” Remus held up the vial containing a silvery liquid, “Is Harry's memory of the event. Every moment of it. Its been charmed to watch him, not through his eyes, so you can get a better idea of what happened. At least that's what he said.”

“You're not going to watch it,” Tonks asked, her eyes still on the vial.

“I don't need to, Nymph ,” Remus dropped his hand and looked at his lap. “I watched him tell me all of it.”

“You're lucky, I love you so much, Wolfie,” she replied, then snuggled closer. “How-how-”

“I could tell he left some things out, but from what he told me, it was horrible. Not just for him, but-”

“So, When can I watch it?” Remus shrugged. “it isn't that bad, is it?”

“My lunch in the loo upstairs says otherwise.” Remus smirked, but it quickly died. He knew enough of what Harry told him, and after watching the first scene, he exited quickly. It was too much, his senses took over and threw his mind for a loop. The scenes... Nightmares for the next weeks for him, and for Harry's life time.

“Now is better time than any.” Thankfully, Tonks had a bit better constitution than the lycane. She grabbed her wand from the table and conjured a bin for the liquid. Taking a deep breathe, Tonks closed her eyes-

“Just don't look into the closet that he comes out of.” Remus said solemnly. Tonks looked at her love and stared at him, wondering why he would say something like that. She wanted to question him, but knew better. If Remus was going to give you a warning, best be to follow that warning. With a deep breathe, she plunged her head into the memory... .... .... ....

The world was twisted, more so than any other memory Tonks had seen. The usual black and white world was replaced with the blood red horror that was to come. Angles were warped, bending in directions that they shouldn't have. This wasn't a memory, this was a nightmare. How was this possible?

Behind her the muffled sound of something exploding startled her. Tonks quickly turned to look, and saw pieces of a door hanging in mid-air, floating as what looked like Harry walked out of the closet. They were frozen in time, Or, at least she thought it was Harry. His long black hair hung around his face, cascading was the only word she could think of. But it wasn't still, in fact, his hair and his cloths were being buffed by some unseen wind. He also walked as if a weight had been lifted, smoothly and silently, back straight and in charge. But his eyes... Tonks had never seen so much power from one wizard before. The color reminded her of Voldemort's, blood red, and glowing to boot.

As Harry passed the threshold, the pieces flew forward as if they were never even hanging in the air. Tonks ducked out of instinct, and felt the pieces pass harmlessly through her. A memory right, she told herself, then followed behind Harry walking down the twisted hallway. He had no trouble navigating the broken hallway. Tonks felt the heat of a fire from somewhere down where Harry was headed. The power the boy held in his hands was enormous, glowing in purple in the blood red world.

Harry turned a corner and Tonks rushed after him, trying to see exactly what was going to happen. Her curiosity almost forced her to take one last look at the closet before running. She wouldn't look, only to appease Remus.

A scream forced Tonks into a run, she turned the corner so quickly that she nearly fell over, her feet giving into their clumsiness. On the floor, though, Tonks was still able to see the beast that was in front of Harry. The monster wore the cloak of the death eaters, but the mask seemed to be its face, twisted by the nightmarish world they were in. In truth though, the face seemed normal even, as if the world couldn't touch it. That made the face even more fierce then it would be in real life, normality in a blood stain world was horror. Claws hung outside of the robe where the hands should have been, and the smile was infectious and evil, dripping saliva upon the ground. But that wasn't the only thing dripping. Even she could smell what was dripping off of the beast's claws: blood.

Looking at the claws was when Tonks noticed what was in Harry's hand. Where did he get the knife? Like his hands, the bone white knife was glowing purple. Tonks watched as the beast lunged at Harry, its hands ready to draw blood again. The beast was angry and aggressive, willing to kill Harry, and he just stood there. No caring if the beast killed him. Tonks knew that Harry would live, but for Merlin's sake he wasn't even moving. Did he want to die?

Then the world flashed briefly and then everything slowed down again, slowing down around Harry. He stepped forward, each movement heavy with fatigue, toward the beast, only to bring up the knife in the stomach of the attacking monster. The world returned to normal, and the Death Eater gurgled, blood coming from its mouth as it realized that a holy knife was embedded in its stomach. It tried to move away, but Harry snaked a hand around back and forced the knife deeper into the stomach. He wouldn't let go; the grimace and apathy apparent on Harry's face. He pulled back when the monster finally stopped struggling.

For a moment, Tonk watched as the beast remained on its feet, albeit it was a struggle to do so. The Death Eater couldn't remove the dagger, its hands burning the first time it touched the steel within its chest. Where did Harry get his hands on a weapon like thatâ€‹? She looked back at where Harry was standing, but there was no sign of him. He had moved to whomever was behind the counter. He shushed her and Tonks moved quick enough to hear the girl whisper “thank you.” he clamped his hand over her nose and mouth and held her tight as she struggled, trying to break free out of instinct. Broken Harry, whom had next to no strength three days ago, was holding a girl down after easily killing a monster.

Harry closed the girls eyes after she stopped fighting, and kissed her forehead. He withdrew two galleons and placed them over her closed eyes. As he stood up, Tonks noticed tears in his eyes. He wanted to cry, he wanted to badly, she could tell, but the tears wouldn't come. Not yet. There would be time to grieve for the dead later, now he would work on saving the living.

He walked away, solid feet on the ground, and the shadows warping around his hands, forming a sword and great axe. Tonks was surprised to see to other Death Eaters appear out of the hall way, one still holding a shift of one of the patients. Dear Merlin, she thought, her hand coming to her mouth as she watched Harry swing effortlessly at the first one, a head now rolling on the ground.

They weren't just killing people; Tonks stuck her head into one of the rooms just as she heard as body landing on the floor with an axe embedded into its chest. A body, with its arms stretched in the air, frozen from pain and agony, lied in the middle of the room, upon the bed, in sheets of blood and sweat. A single sight at the dead woman, and she knew. She knew what these beasts were doing to the this poor women. She knew what horrible acts. While a pure-blood wizard hated physical acts, they were often more then willing to commit this one. So many cases, so many “not-guilty”s.

Tonks turned her attention back to Harry, but again, he was gone. He had rushed off again, seeking another Death Eater to kill. She heard the screams of another woman, and froze. Did she want to see the murder of another woman, and the execution of a death Eater? Did she want to see that suffering? The women's no, but the Death Eaters deserved so much more than just a simple swipe to the head, or chest. They deserved to suffer as much as the horrors they committed upon the world.

She ran to find Harry, standing over another girl, this one worse off then the one before. She was dead, either from the loss of blood or just the pain of what happened. Her dress was ripped apart, and would be exposing her, except that her rib cage exploded, breaking at the sternum. Ir looked like someone had taken a hammer to a crab, to break open the shell to get the meat. Only nothing was missing. Tonks noticed the hand print of blood around the girl's mouth and nose. Harry's hand was dripping blood when she noticed him. He knelt down, and began to pray softly, asking for the girl's happiness in heaven. The death eater responsible for this heinous crime was pinned to the wall, a weapon impeded in its hand, smoke rising from the wound. It couldn't move.

Tonks watched as Harry stood up and gracefully glided over to the beast. His hand began to glow purple, a dark mist surrounding it. Reaching forward, he touched the Death Eater's chest, and the beast howled in pain. “you are right,” Harry spoke, his voice traveling over the screaming creature. “On almost every account.” He did not turn around. He wasn't suppose to see her, this was a Penseive. “Expect there. Everything has changed. Monsters must suffer according to their crimes. He is paying the penalty now and when I kill him. I care not of what happens after word, but I must make him pay now. The crime of murder, as violent and as heinous as he committed, must be punished.”

Tonks wanted to speak, but didn't think that she could. “The worlds are changing, and I am acting out of instinct. When you leave, I will remember all of this, but I will be confused as you are. This is not a Memory. This is now.” She took a step back at the words of Harry. “It is time for you to go. Death remains on my shoulder, begging for more souls. I shall deliver all that I can to her. Go, and we will talk when I awake.” The beast's cries did not stop once, and Harry placed his other hand around the neck. In a swift motion, he snapped it, snapped it like a twig. He pointed a fist at her, and whispered “good bye.” just as the beast died. He threw his hand opened and a bright light flew towards her.

Tonks gasped as she pulled her head out of the Penseive. “He saw me,” she whispered as Remus wrapped his arms around her. “He saw me.”

“Who saw you,” Remus asked. Tonks held tightly to her now boyfriend. He tried to calm her down the best he could, but somethings were hard. He had seen the beginning of the memory, and knew how horrible it was.

“Harry, he spoke to me,” She whispered into his chest after her tears subsided.

“That's impossible,” Remus remarked. “a Penseive is just a memory, a video. Its not supposed to interact with the user.”

“He talked me,” she repeated. “He killed four Death Eaters, tortured another then killed it. I couldn't believe it. I would have never thought-”

“Think again,” Harry coughed and all eyes turned him. He was holding his side as he stumbled down the stairs. “We need to talk Remus, about a lot of things.” He landed at the bottom of the stairs and coughed as if he was removing a lung. But none of that worried Remus, rather it was his appearance. The once pale white skin from sickness and malnutrition was black as night with tribal tattoos scattered on his face and arms, possibly his whole body, in blood red. Smoke was pouring his skin, light enough as if just a dying fire. Harry shifted his gaze from the ground to the pair, pausing in his coughing fit. Two hollow eyes, one white and one black stared at them; no pupils, no irises, just two blank eyes. Harry nodded at the lycane before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he began to collapse. Tonks was out of her lover's grasp and holding Harry before he hit the ground.

As Tonks gathered the boy, his body now back to normal, she looked at Remus, her eyes showing all the emotion she needed to. “I guess Harry is right. We do need to talk.”

* * * * * *

The train ride was lonely for the first time in seven years. Ron was off with his friends, Ginny with Luna, and here Hermione was alone, trying to read a book, but her heart wasn't in it. Her eyes watched as the country side passed away, just as the days of the school year did. Her time at Hogwarts was over, and with Harry gone, looking for the Horocruxes without them, she had no idea what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

She had another argument with Ron, possibly one that would destroy their relationship. He kept pushing her for more sex, as if that was the sole purpose of the relationship. There was no passion for her, in fact the last time they slept together, she just lied there as he... There was no pleasure for in it, even when he just touched her. It was just sex, not love.

Hermione sighed. She missed Harry, he wouldn't have made her cry like Ron did. They had large fight. She couldn't even remember what it was over, all she remembered was crying as he stormed out of the common room. Everyone was staring at her, as she buried her head into her books, trying to study but the tears kept falling on the pages, making it hard to read.

Tears slowly built up behind her walls, her defenses. Hermione wiped them away and returned her gaze to her book. “well, if it isn't the bookworm,” she didn't move her gaze from her book.

“I don't have time for this, Pansy,” Hermione replied.

“What, you're going to visit your friends?” Pansy asked, Hermione shot a glare at her. “good luck finding Ron. I hear he's found something fun to do.” the Slytherin walked away, laughing leaving Hermione to think about the words. Her friends were gone, Ron was off with Seamus and Dean, Harry was away, and here was Hermione alone like she was her first year. Nothing was going well.

“Hermione, what are you doing here alone,” Like she said nothing was going well. Ginny appeared the door way, holding a letter. She came from the same direction that Pansy left in. “Doesn't matter,” she said before Hermione could reply. “I got a letter from Harry.” Ginny removed piece of parchment from her robe and quickly read parts of it. “'Things are great'.. blah, blah, blah.... 'I think I've found a few'... blah, blah, blah... Here's the important part 'I miss you so much, Ginny, I can't stand it, but this needs to be done. ' .. .. .oh, and here's a question about you and Ron: 'are they going at it like rabbits yet? I always thought they would make a great couple. We could be one big Weasley family.' See it isn't just wonderful.” Someone called for Ginny. “oh, got to go Herms. Enjoy your time with my brother kay.” She hastily placed the letter in her pocket and ran out. Ginny didn't notice that the letter fell out as she exited.

But Hermione did. She watched as the letter dropped to the floor. For a moment, she didn't move, her eyes dancing between the letter and the door, just waiting for Ginny to return and take the letter. How long had it been since she'd received a letter from Hermione. She did not how mcuh time passed, waiting for that door to opening. Daringly, she dove at the letter and held it in her hands, treasuring the fact that she held something that Harry wrote, even if it wasn't to her. Then the feeling changed, it was as if there was magic on it. Something was going on, something wrong, something horrible. Something involving Harry. And Hermione had so many questions. Maybe now, it was time to start asking them. She returned to her seat just as Ron, Luna and Neville returned to the cabin, discreetly pocketing the letter. No one was the wiser.

* * * * * *

The world was perfect, flowers in every direction, clear sky above him, a gentle breeze dancing around him. The world was perfect. He was perfect. His leg didn't hurt, his body was strong healthy. There was nothing wrong with him. He could see perfectly, and when he touched his forehead, there was no scar.

“I'm free.” He whispered. He looked around and smiled at the thought. “I”m free!” he laughed as he ran through the field. At one point, he fell, and tumbled down a hill. The entire time he was laughing. His nightmare was over, that chance for freedom he wanted so badly was finally here. His loife was over, death had taken him

“I'm so sorry, Harry,” he sat up and saw two eyes he thought he'd never see again. Elise was standing in front of him, wearing an amazing white and sunflowered sun dress. She never looked beautiful.

“What do you mean?” he asked. The world changed. The flowers were gone, the land barren, gray clouds replaced the blue sky and lightning crackled in the distance.

Harry shook his head. “no, no no..” this was not suppose to be happening. He earned his reward.

“it isn't you're time, Harr-Bear,” she walked over to him and crutched down in front of him, placing a hand on his cheek. “No, you've a long life to live.” She reached to his back and gently stroked the black wing petruding from his left shoulder. “A life that will be blessed with power and love.”

“Whats happening to me?” Harry asked, tears in his eyes. He reached and gently caressed Elise's cheek.

“Something wonderful.” She smiled at him. “you're part of something so beautiful and amazing, that the worlds known to man will never see something like it again. It'll hurt, but in will make you something more.” She pulled her hand back from his one wing and kissed him soundly. “know that I will always love you.”

* * * * * *

Harry sat in the bed, still fuming about having to remain there, but was happy enough to be eating solid foods. His temperature finally broke, apparently. Remus had informed him that he was running a temperature around 120 degrees, which given his limited knowledge that was brain frying temperature. Given the fact that he was only extremely hungry and bored, Harry felt fine, despite the fact that his temperature hadn't fallen from around 100 degrees. He didn't agree when Remus told him he needed to stay in bed for a fews, rather, he agreed. The only thing that Harry wanted was information. Which, ironically was what Tonks wanted. But Remus wanted to give time for his godson to heal. So seven days pasted as Harry sat in bed, gaining his strength back, reading what he could from the few books that Tonks had, and sleeping. Tonks was the one who mentioned to Remus that Harry was reading perfectly fine without squinting or even pulling the book closer to him. Not once did he as for his glasses. On the eighth day, it was time to talk.

Harry sat on his bed, eating while reading the Muggle paper. Remus watched from the door way. Since the day the temperature had fallen, Harry had been absorbing information at an incredible rate' he read everything, including the newspaper, and all the words and data was held within his mind, then sorted out, removing all the useless parts, then stored. Harry was changing, physically, with the alteration in his eyes, and mentally, his reading. Something had occurred in the past week, and now it was time for answer.

“You can come in whenever you want, Remus,” Harry said, his eyes remaining on th e paper before him. “you're the one who wanted to talk not me.”

“I distinctly remember you saying you wanted to talk,” Remus walked in and took the seat next to Harry.

“Probably,” he turned the page, scanning it and occasionally circling something. “before my fever broke everything is fuzzy.” He reached down and rubbed his leg.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, though he didn't look up. “Tonks you should probably be in here to so I can answer your questions the best I can.” Remus turned around and saw his girlfriend, standing in the door way.

“That has to be what- the fifth - sixth time you've done that Harry,” Tonk said, standing next to Remus. Ever the gentleman he offered his seat, but she refused. “How do you do that?”

Harry looked up and his green eyes stared at them, the twinkle that only was seen in Dumbledore's dancing right at them. “Close your eyes.” he said.

“What? Why?” Tonks asked. Remus was smiling, taking glances between her and harry.

“Just do it,” Harry smiled at her, and she sighed, giving in to his wishes. For a while he didn't saw anything, just watched Tonks with a confused look on her face. “okay, what do you see?”

Tonks scoffed, as if everyone knew that answer. “Nothing, my eyes are closed.”

“I don't,” Harry said. Tonks opened her eyes just to stare at Harry. Remus' jaw dropped slightly, and Harry reached over and pushed it close. “don't do that, your not a frog.”

“that doesn't explain-” Remus finally started after a moment, collecting his thoughts. Harry could not be caught off guard.

“Everything has changed, and I don't know half of it, I'm just acting out of instinct.” Harry shrugged. “My eyes are no longer impaired, my body...” Harry reached over and grabbed the crutches that Remus had found for him. His legs were still weak the last time Harry walked. He expected Harry was going to walk buy instead, he squeezed them, compressing the aluminum, when he pulled his hand away, a clear hand print stared at the couple. “Everything has changed, and I want to know why, Remus.”

“me?” the lycane asked.

“yes, you,” Harry replied. His twinkle was gone, demanding to know what was happening. “I take it you know of a man named Thursday?” Remus' eyes widen. “How does he know about me?”

“Mr. Thursday was a friend of your fathers,” Remus said. “I really can't tell you much other than that until I have some more information. before you ask, yes this has to do with the research I am working on.” Harry nodded, he knew little of the research, but other than that Remus was looking for answers to his problem. “i would like to know how you know him.”

“I met him that night you found me.” Harry looked away, his gaze settling on the scenery outside. “my body was crashing, reeling from all of the magic I discarded that night. I hadn't felt that much pain ever. And then in that same alley way, I met him. He was standing right in front of me, wearing a trench coat and a cowboy hat, smoking a cigar.” His hand drifted to his leg and massaged it gently. “I don't really remember what he was talking about, but something about the Library being opened and its about time, maybe something could be done.” Harry shrugged. “I just remember that he seemed sorta, not fully there.”

Remus nodded, and didn't say anything. “is everything okay?” Harry asked.

“I think so,” he replied, “i just need to confirm a few things.” He stood up and looked at Tonks, then back at Harry. “I promise to keep you informed, but for now-”

“I'm walking around tomorrow, Harry said, his attention back on the paper. “hopefully finding a library or something. Tonk's books are getting boring.”

“Whats wrong with my books?” Tonks asked.

“nothing, except that their basically the same plot with numerous twists and permutations to change the over all story, without actually changing what is happening.” Tonks rasied an eyebrow. “their bloody romances. I need to read something with substance.” Remus got and walked to the door, hoping to avoid being in the center of the arguemnt.

“Where was the Harry that we knew who hated to read?” She asked, and Remus paused as he heard the answer.

“Still burning in that fire Tonks.” He turned the page then stabbed the center of it with the marker he was using. Like a sharp knife, the marker stood start up. The article was on the destruction of a local building, where a man walked in and simply exploded, killing three people before the building lit on fire. There was one survivor, babbling about the Dark Lord and his eternal reign. “I just happen to have temporarily escaped that fire.”

-->

3. Chapter 3: Mad World

Chapter 3: Mad World

And I find it kinda funny

I find it kinda sad

that the dreams in which h'm dying

the best I've ever had

I've find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles its a very very

Mad world, mad world

Mad World - Gary Jules

Author's Note: I know I've been missing for quite some time. In truth, school caught up with me, as well as personal and I've been struggling to maintain a semblance of normality in my life, and failing miserably.

To this story: I plan on having at most four more chapters before I start the sequel, the second chance story. This is meant more as a prequel than anything else.

Please R&R, and the characters are not mine, just the situation.

* * * * * *

Hermione sat down on her bed, just happy to be home. She missed her parents dearly, and was a tad bit upset that she wasn't able to see them over Easter break; Ron had insisted that she come home to the Burrow to spend time with him. He actually wanted her to stay the entire summer. He may want to be a professional Quidditch player, but she had no intention of leaving her family just yet. In fact, Hermione wasn't even sure what she wanted to do in her life. Her dreams changed so quickly this year, and in truth, so many of them involved Harry being there with them. He was a constant until this year. The Order didn't even know where he went. Only Ginny.

“Hermione dear,” her mother called. She sighed and walked slowly out the door, taking the letter with her.

“Coming mother,” she replied as she was two steps down the stairs. Hermione wasn't really in the mood to talk with anyone, even people as loving as her parents. She sighed again when she walked into the kitchen where her father was reading a sports magazine, and her mother was opening the mail. “What is it?”

“Do you know anyone named Tonks?” Hermione's eyes lit up, and she quickly crossed the room, trying to read the letter in her mother's hand.

“What she say, anything about Harry?” she tried to read the letter, but it was nothing asking for nothing but Muggle methods of lowering a temperature. “Why does she need to know this?”

“I don't know,” Mary replied. “But it came through regular post, so I guess she's incognito, and has to stay under the radar. But apparently, it's important.” Her mother was a petite woman, who age was finally beginning to show through the light graying in her hair. Her body was larger than it was before she met her husband and had Hermione, but it was still beautiful in its own way. Hermione just wished she could turn out as beautiful as her mother did when she had children. If she had children. Family was simply not an option for her right now, not with Harry still missing.

“From what Professor McGonagall was saying, Tonks disappeared a while ago.” Hermione pulled back, and thought of what was happening. Why was Tonks gone and even Lupin was missing? She could assume that they were together, but it wasn't an Order mission, so what was happening?

“What there you have there, pumpkin?” her father asked. Joseph Granger was a big man, not fat like Dursley, but big as in a wall big. He was an ex-marine from across the pond, and met her mother when he in his thirties, they married within months of knowing each other, and Hermione was born after some trouble. There was a reason why Hermione was an only child, and despite having to leave for Hogwarts, she loved her parents and they loved her dearly.

“It's nothing,” Hermione said, trying to hide the letter. She placed it in an envelope back on the train, hopefully to hide the fact that she had it.

“Now, dear,” he replied, “I know when it's something, hand it over, unless its an private letter?” Joe raised an eye brow, and looked at his daughter. She quickly handed over the letter. It wasn't that it was private, but Hermione just didn't want to hide the letter lest he find the ones that Ron sent her, vivid ones that she blushed when ever she read them.

“It's a letter from Harry to Ginny,” Hermione said, no use in lying either. “She dropped it, and I was just going to send it back.”

“Really?” her father said, quickly scanning it. He handed it off to Mary who just nodded.

“What?” Hermione was worried at the way her parents were acting. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” Joseph smiled at his daughter. “Have you ever sent a letter to Harry? I'm sure he's missing you quite a bit.”

“Ginny's the one who usually take the letters,” Hermione replied, her hand out for the letter again. She spoke as if there was no other option. “She says that Harry won't receive them unless its from a special owl.”

Her mother smiled. “Try again this time, I'm sure Ginny won't mind if you send one, will she? Hermione shrugged. “I bet it would help with your nerves.” Again another shrug. “Even if you don't send it, I'm sure that you'll feel a lot better once you write.” She realized that it was more of command, that her parents wanted her out of the room, but she wasn't leaving without the letter. It was right now her only connection to Harry. It was a connection that would hold onto for her dear life, and never give up.

“Of course, dear,” Hermione smiled as the letter was slipped back into her hand. “Now, go write that letter” She nodded, tears hanging in the corner of her eyes as she turned around and ran back upstairs to send her letter.

Once they were sure that Hermione had closed her door, slammed rather, Joseph spoke up. “Our girl, not noticing it?” he asked his wife.

“She has always been blind where the heart is concerned,” She shrugged and sat next to her husband. “She talked about Harry so much until this year, and then we hadn't heard a single thing about him.”

“Do you think?” Joseph looked back up at their daughter.

“Could be, but why would a girl go to such lengths to hide the fact the fact that Harry isn't in contact with them.”

“Did you actually read it, or just look at the handwriting?” Joseph asked, Mary shrugged. “the girl's words are all about how wonderful she is with Harry, and how our daughter is with the Weasley boy.” he took a sip of his coffee, and put his glasses back on. “Hopeful this will clear up and soon. I doubt our daughter can go on like this.”

* * * * * *

Three days had past since Harry had talked with Remus and Tonks about his changes, and in those three days, his temperature had not fallen. His body was healing at a remarkable speed, recovering from the loss of all of his magic and energy, plus the wounds and mental fatigue. But somethings changed as well, his eyesight continued to develop until Harry was picking up threads on a shirt twenty yards away. He could relax until his vision was perfect 20/20, but if wanted to and focused his core onto it, Harry picked up cars over a miles away on a high just visible on the horizon. Things were definitely changing, but there were always consequences. Right now he was waiting to find out exactly what those penalties would be. “Poenas Do*” he whispered to himself, not even realizing that he had no idea what he said.

Every once in a while, Harry's leg would hurt. Not a shooting pain, but a dull ache. It wasn't often, but enough to be annoying. Right now, he was alone in his room, the guest in Tonks' Muggle apartment. He had three newspapers open in front of him, scanning again. There was nothing of interest since he stabbed the bed with his marker. His mind wouldn't sleep if he didn't want it, and since his dream of Elise, which terrified him, he didn't want to.

Harry still mourned his love, his heart. She was gone and he would not see her again until he died. But he couldn't die, Voldemort would need to be taken care of, then he could rest. And not until then. Until then, he would be working to destroy Voldemort.

His pleasure reading had ended over a day ago, with a little cat nap to regain just enough energy not to be fully tired. He finished the remaining romance books from Tonks, as well as the noir that Remus had brought with him. The worlds away from him, the worlds that he was able to escape to, that was was Harry searched for. This world was beginning to be too much for him and without any release, something anything, he would be consumed by it. So he turned to reading, escaping away from the pain and suffering and taking him to a world where he was free of his life, and in someone else's.

“Harry?” he didn't look up, rather, he continued to read through the papers, turned the pages occasionally.

“I know you are worried, Tonks,” Harry said, “but I don't want to go through another reaction like before.”

“No, I just want to apologize about that. I mean-” Harry waved her quiet and turned another page.

“You didn't know, its okay. I forgave you the moment you turned off the spell.”

“I was only trying to help.” Harry finally looked up at Tonks.

“So we learned that I can't be healed magically,” He patted the seat next to him. “Its okay, really. I'm much better. I feel so much stronger than before, just trying to recover from it right now. No foul.” Harry turned to his papers and continued to scan. “but I don't think that is the only reason you came in here, is it?”

Tonks shook her head. “No, you have a letter.”

“Really, I thought that none were suppose to-” Harry looked up surprised. Remus had explained how basically they were hidden by numerous charms and spells. Harry was too tired to actually listen so he gave up figuring it out and fell asleep rather than worry about it. But the basic idea was that owls and any other form of communication unless wanted was unable to find them. It is a basic Fidelus charm compensated with the arrival of an owl, with a letter to Harry especially, was something worth note.

“It's from Hermione.” Harry didn't respond. He didn't know if he wanted to know what the girl was up to, or if he could even talk to her. So much had happened over the past year, and he was still recovering from all of his pain and injuries, could he even talk to her? How were things with her and Ron? And Ginny? Did Hogwarts reopen? Did they remember him? Did she matter as much as she used to him?

Tonks had pulled the letter out from her robe and before it was a inch away from her body, Harry snatched the letter and began to read it.

Harry-

Please don't be mad at me for sending this letter. I know you told Ginny not to have any letters sent to you, but I just needed to talk to you, and hopefully, I'll be able to talk to you more.

How long has it been since I've mailed to you, let alone seen you? I know it was since last year, and it seems like probably longer. Since your departure for your trip, so much has happened and I'm sure Ginny has told you about everything so I won't bore you about the little trivial things, like my relationships or problems. Rather, I need to tell you something.

I miss you Harry. I miss talking to you, having you to lean on when everything gets so hard, and times are troubled. Ron is a replacement, but he doesn't match you, or your hugs. Merlin do I miss those. You were so awkward when I gave you your first hug our first year. Remember that? You nearly jumped out of your skin when I hugged you. Your arms make me lose all my cares and worries. I wish I could be as calm about the whole Voldemort thing as you, but I worry. I can't stop, but I don't think I want to, I feel like I'm not worthy of you if I don't help out. I want to help, and I can't help you if I don't' know what to do. Please talk to me Harry. I need you to talk to me so I can help you. I feel so useless right now, and I (she must have scribbled something out here, because Harry couldn't read anything for a few words).

Just please return this owl with my letter if you don't want to talk to me. I'm so sorry that I failed you, and understand completely why you are not talking to me. But if there is any room in your heart for forgiveness to me, please, Harry I'm begging you, talk to me. I need you.

Love
Hermione.

For a while, Harry didn't move, or do really anything. His eyes remained on the paper, just staring at the words before him. Hermione, fail him? He never heard such a phrase uttered before, and now to see it in her own handwriting, it drove home the falsity of the concept hard to his heart. She could never fail him.

“Harry?” Tonks asked.

“Hmm?” His eyes began to take into the other words.

“Is everything alright?” He didn't respond, rather he found what he was looking for. The insecurity, the self-loathing, the fear, and then most obvious, the ignorance. How could she not know where he was? And what was Ginny telling them? He hadn't even thought about the Horacruxes yet. Riddle was weak, and with a little effort, he could destroy them. In fact he could name them all... and... exactly...

“Fuck.” He swore. He knew. Harry knew where every Horacrux was, and how to destroy all of them. But that was impossible. He tried every night since he arrived at Remus' to make contact with Voldemort through the link, but nothing ever happened. He couldn't feel the beast any more. It was one of the many blessings from his accident. But he shouldn't know, he should have no idea of how to stop him, what was the right method of destroying that pesky third one hidden in the alps away from everyone. There was no way he should know that. But he did, and that worried Harry.

“Language, Harry,” Tonks replied. Harry stood up quickly, his leg nearly giving out on his as he tried to step on.

“Fuckin'” he said, as he regained his balance. His left leg hurt him occasionally, but it nearly gave out on him, forcing Harry to worry. Something was wrong. But now was not the time, he needed to start this. “I need an atlas, paper and pen.” He quickly exited and headed to the living room.

Remus was just returning from shopping, with arms filled with food and necessities. He noticed Harry hopping down the stairs of the two stair condo. It was Dumbledore's but he listed it under Tonks' name, saying that it belong to her. It was going to be an Order meeting place, but with the problems with Harry, they quickly changed it to their hiding spot, away from Wizarding world. Dumbledore had left Harry a large sum of money, and possibly even more, given that he was named the heir of the Dumbledore estates, odd seeing as there was no familial connection between them, but in the Wizarding world, there isn't much that can be argued about a charmed will. So that left Harry being the the one of the richest wizards in the world. He trailed behind many of the other pureblood families, but between three estates he could hold his own. More importantly, though, was the number of the magical libraries and items left to Harry through all three.

Given Harry's wealth and the information he had access to, Remus could not figure for the life of him why he was searching through the old National Geographics in the bin. “Harry, is there something I can help you with?” He wasn't supposed to be up and walking around.

“No, I know what I'm looking for.” He pulled out three magazines and set them down on the table. “Tonks, where is-” he began to yell, but he paused as she walked down the stairs, holding everything he wanted. “On the table with me.” Harry sat down and opened up the three magazines to distinct and different advertisements. Tonks set the atlas right in front of him and pen and paper off to the side. He didn't regard them yet, focusing on the advertisements.

“What are you-” Remus started, but stopped as Harry raised a hand. He closed his eyes and placed a hand over the first advertisement. When he opened his eyes, pure white stared at them. He held his other hand over the atlas, and the book flew open, the pages turning until they stopped on an large map of England. A spot began to glow black, somewhere along the northern coast. He turned to the next advertisement and repeated whatever process he did. Each time, his eyes growing blacker and blacker until finally on the third, his eyes were completely black. Slowly, five spots turned black on the atlas, a few on different pages than the others, signifying something. His hand floating over the atlas was smoking now, but Remus was too mesmerized to do anything. As Harry lowered his hand, he sighed heavily, then began to rub his leg. “There, thats all of them.”

Remus took a step forward and placed a hand on his adopted godson. “All of what?” His temperature was higher than normal, which wasn't saying much, but his lycane senses told him that everything was alright, while his newly acquired parent senses were telling him just the opposite.

Harry looked up at Remus and smiled, his eyes still pitch black. “the Horacruxes of course.” Sitting in front of them was an atlas of England with five holes burned into them, one of them moving ever slowly, the others stationary. Before Harry, with just wordless, thoughtless incantation that he didn't even know he knew, he found every last Horacrux needed to destroy the anchor that Riddle had created.

Tonks didn't say anything. The magic preformed before her was formidable, and by appearance alone, dark. Harry's power washed over them, shallow wave after shallow wave. But from what she felt, it could have been a tsunami if he wanted. The power that he showed, where did it come from? It should not be possible to do what Harry did. “Remus?” she asked, taking a small step forward. The lycane sighed. “I need to know the truth.”

“I still don't know it fully,” He replied, and turned to her. “I'm working on it. It will take a bit more time, and when I can tell you everything, I will.” He returned his gaze to Harry. “I promise you the same thing.”

“I'll find out when I need to,” he responded with finality. Harry didn't say anything else as he lied down on the couch, exhausting himself for the simple magics of finding where to end the battle against Voldemort. Single-handedly, he turned the entire tide of the war. But to Harry, the war against Riddle was the last thing on his mind. Even Elise was far from his thoughts. Rather, he worried about something else, something dark, something that when released, could destroy everything.

“Remus,” Tonks looked up at her boyfriend. “There's something you should know.”

“Hmm?” he stood up from Harry, but kept his gaze on the boy slowly turning to a man. He worried so much about Harry, only to be completely surprised each day with a new feat that he did. Who would have thought that Harry handed them the means to find a way to destroy Voldemort? Certainly not the old lycane.

“Harry received a letter from Hermione today.” he turned around and raised an eyebrow. They were suppose to be hidden from the world. Tonks was holding the letter in her hand. She picked it up when Harry ran down the stairs, in a hurry to find what the tools he needed.

“I know, but take a look at it.” she handed him the letter. Remus began to read the letter, his eyes widening as he skimmed it. “I know, apparently they think Harry's out hunting the Horacruxes.”

“He hasn't been contacting Ginny has he?” Remus asked.

“No, in fact he's been avoiding talking about anything of them.” Tonks walked over and looked over his shoulder to reread the letter. “You notice how much she cares about him. It's as if, I don't know, it was always there, but...”

“Something affected them.” Remus said, looking up at Harry. “Something, or one, did something, and it shifted everything out of focus. Maybe now, with him away from everyone he knows, we can fix it and get him on the right path.”

“From the performance he just had, I'd say he blew through the path and straight towards the victory line.”

* * * * * *

Hermione sat on her bed, tears beginning to form in her eyes as she looked at a simple picture taken over two years ago. There she and Harry were, laughing about something, she couldn't even remember what they were laughing about. Colin gave her the picture, and she had forgotten about until recently, just after she sent her letter. Now with Harry's unopened response sitting next to her, she couldn't help but look at one of the last times she saw him. His smile almost brought one to her, but she couldn't with not knowing what was going on with him.

“Hermione?” her mother stood in the doorway, waiting for the permission to enter.

Hermione quickly hid the letter and wiped away the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks. “come in.” Mary entered and walked over to her daughter. “hi mom, something wrong?”

“Just about to ask you that.” She took a seat next to Hermione. “I didn't know you had a picture like this. When did you get it?”

“Colin gave it to me at the beginning of the year.” Hermione laughed. “I don't even remember when this was, only that it was one of the few times that both Harry and I got a chance to hang out, without Ron around. It was fun.”

“You just said that you don't remember it.”

“doesn't matter, I was with Harry.” Hermione gentle touched Harry's face on the picture. Picture Harry seemed to lean into it. “Everything seemed to change, mum. I mean, we were so close, then Harry went off without us, and I don't know what to do.” She looked up. “I once thought that I knew everything, that I could figure it out if I had to. But now... I don't know anymore.”

“Honey,” her mom asked. “Did you look at that letter, the one that Ginny had?” Her daughter deserved to know what was going on. She couldn't keep it a secret.

“Of course, Harry said that-” Hermione started.

“No, dear, he didn't,” Mary got up and took the letter off of the bed stand, where it was thumbed constantly, read close to a hundred times as her daughter tried her hardest to connect with Harry. “She did.” she held the letter in front of her, and hoped her daughter would see. “the letter isn't from Harry, its from Ginny.”

Hermione looked at the letter again, this time more closely. Her eyes slowly grew wider as she scanned the page. How could this happen? Ginny was her best friend; why would she lie to everyone like this and make them think that she was talking to Harry?

“I-I-I don't understand,” Hermione finally said. For a while she didn't even move, rather just stare at the false worlds. “So she hasn't even had contact with Harry. Then what about-” she pulled out her other letter, the one from supposedly Harry. Could this one be a fake? Hermione doubt she could handle it.

“no, I think this one is the real one.” Mary looked a the letter. “Have you even opened it?” Hermione shook her head. “Why not, its your chance to find out exactly what he thinks of you?”

“I'm scared.”

“Scared of what, dear? Harry? Your best friend since you've met him? One year is not going to change that.” she sat back down. “listen, Hermione, I know things have changed, and sometimes, change is tough. But from what you've told me, Harry is not the type to simply throw away his relationships with his friends. There is a logical reason for why he hasn't contacted up until now. I'm sure of it.” Hermione didn't reply, but the tears she had started to fall. “Things change, you have to accept that.”

“But thats just it, what Harry and I have, doesn't.” Hermione spoke with such certainty that Mary almost wished it were true. Her daughter needed someone like Harry, and until she realized it, fully and willingly, then she would be doom to loneliness and pain. “I miss my best friend.”

“Ron?” she had to ask.

Hermione shook her head, and laughed softly. “no, no. not him. I think I know what Ron and I are meant to be.” Rain began to fall as Hermione's tears increased. Thunder cracked in the distance. “He was a distraction mum.” Mary nodded and hugged her daughter tightly. “I miss him so much.” She sobbed as she curled into her mother's arms. “Its like a part of me isn't there, and it hurts so much.”

“Maybe, it's because that's true.” She offered. Since her daughter came home from her first year from Hogwarts for Christmas Break, there had been nothing but talk of the Boy-Who-Lived, and how he willingly fought for her and protected her, how he befriend her when no one else would. It wasn't until summer did she learn of Ron Weasley, but she knew the truth already. Her daughter found the one person who made her life worth everything. Years past, and stories of Harry's care, courage, and generosity continued to find their way into the Granger home. Mary was surprised to find out that Hermione was dating Ron, especially when all signs pointed to Harry, the one who would do anything for her.

For a while, neither moved. Hermione hugged her mother, striving for that contact of a loved one, hoping to use what ever love she could receive to fill that whole. Her daughter loved Harry, there was no doubt about that in her mind. Now, if only she could get Hermione to see that, but the girl was stubborn when she wanted to. She denied the truth when it stared at her daily, protecting her, holding her, until the truth was gone and the world was so different, the light of her life was gone. Mary could only hope that he would see the light too.

* * * * * *

“Remus, I really don't care 'bout my leg,” Harry said, taking one final turn around it with a medical wrap. “We are going to the mall, and that's final.”

“Harry, we need to get you to a doctor.” Remus said, handing Harry his shorts. They were able to pick up a few pieces of clothing for him from a store near by. Harry just wanted to get out. He was tired of seeing the same walls and for some strange reason refused to watch the television before him.

“Later then, not now.” Harry grabbed the door as he began to walk out, his leg giving out on him. “Its fine, I just tripped.” He turned and looked at his guardian. “Can we go, please? I've been stuck here for over two weeks now, I want out. That leaves us with two options. Either A. I walk out of here without you, and come back when I'm done. Or 2. We walk out of here, and we go shopping and we get back around three. Those are your choices.” He smirked, knowing that he won.

“Fine, we'll take the second one,” Tonks replied, “But only if you go to the hospital first.” Harry wanted to go out, so he would give in. even with this little concession.

For a while, Harry just glared at his surrogate parents. They were determined to take care of him, and he couldn't think of a good reason as to why they shouldn't. He sighed and nodded his consent. A trip the hospital would be worth it to get out of the bloody room for while. “Then lets go.” He walked past them, and out the door.

An hour later, after waiting in line for what seemed like forever, Harry was able to go shopping. The doctor's appointment took longer than he wanted, which was obviously planned as they walked right in, and all they were given was to rest it and to heat it. They figured that it was just a cramp. That the pain was nothing. Harry shrugged as they walked to the mall. Today it would be fine, they would just have to place a heat pack or something on it when they returned home.

He wore transfigured cloths of Remus, the sizes changed just so they would fit. The lycane was a worn man from all of his transformations, so his cloths, the ones Tonks made him buy, were small for Harry. With a way of a wand and a few simple words, the cloths were big enough to fit the Boy-Who-Lived. He would rather have his own, hence the trip today.

Between Sirius, Dumbledore, and his parents, Harry held a great deal of money. He wasn't rich, at least no in the wizarding world terms, per say but he could buy anything he wanted and as long as he was smart, his children would have a great deal of money. Trick was though, he couldn't touch it. Kingsley had him legally declared dead, while Tonks was able to upgrade that missing in action, that didn't change the fact that he was missing. Until he official returned to the wizarding world, he couldn't touch that money. Legally. Harry was never one for legality when enjoyment and peace were just what he needed and that 'legally' issue stood in his way. Hence this trip.

Remus dropped him and Tonks off right in front of the mall, and drove to park the car. The moment his car turned the corner to park, he stumbled a bit, bracing against the wall to hold himself up. His leg was still in pain, but he would be fine. “You say anything and I'll-” he grunted as he stood back up.

“Won't say nothing, Harry,” Tonks replied. It was the least she could do for him. The pain was nothing compared to that lost-feeling he held each day, as if his connection with the world was being turned off. He sat around all day, trying to figure out why he was so empty. Right now, though, there were more pressing matters then to deal with this emptiness inside of him.

Remus reappeared, and Harry smiled at him, eager to get shopping. He needed some more books to read, and Remus gave him two hundred pounds just for that. But clothing was required first. They went through the mall, and after what felt like hours, they were finally done, with new clothing for Harry. Remus and Tonks were forced to buy some too as Harry refused to move at one point unless they bought anything.

Finally, book shopping came. Harry smiled as they walked over to the book store. Remus and Tonks offered to hold his clothing as he went to explore. He walked in and almost felt at home. There were lines and lines of shelves, stretching only thirty yards or so, filled with books. He walked slowly, searching for whatever sparked his fancy. After finding a five books, Harry grabbed a cart that someone was using to restock the books and had left there empty. Philosophy, religion, history, cookbooks, fantasy, science fiction, romance. Indeed, Harry filled the cart with instinct, each book pulling him to them, each one telling its own story. And then he found his last book.

Hidden away in the corner of the store, stacked together with the some other old looking books, Harry found a manuscript to something known as the Library. This book was meant for him, for while the other made him gravitate towards them, this book was a force on its own, holding a special gravity meant for him. The brown cover was ancient, and locked tight with a clasp that hadn't been moved for what looked like forever. Harry was sure that there was a layer of dust permanently caked on from a lack of use.

With his last book in hand, Harry pushed his cart towards the register, proud of his selection. The clerk slowly priced each book, finishing with his last discovery. “sir,” she said sheepishly. “I'm afraid there is no price for this book.” Harry's smile at his find quickly disappeared. That book was important.

“is there any way-” Harry started to ask.

“let me call my boss, see what she says.” she smiled again at Harry, and he returned it graciously. He knew in his heart that the book he found was important. His heart almost ached for the book, telling him that his existence required it. As if it wasn't just his existence...

“Sir,” an elderly man approached them, the clerk right behind him. “My clerk here tells me you are seeking that book that has no price correct.” Harry nodded, but didn't say anything. “Since you are buying an awful large amount of them, then I don't see a reason as to why you can't have a book that isn't on stock. In fact, there seems to be no record of that book at all.” Harry nodded, and the clerk quickly bagged all of his books. Apparently around five hundred pounds worth of books carried some weight. He noticed Tonks and Remus standing at the entrance waiting for him.

The bags were three thick, bursting with the large collection of books. Tonks was ready with a comment when she stopped dead, staring start ahead. Harry turned and saw the people she was looking at: Hermione with her mother. They had yet to notice the lycane and the metamorph, but when Hermione turned and faced them, her eyes connected with Harry's, and never had he seen her smile like that before, as if she was simply waiting for him, as if the the whole world didn't matter until that very moment. But just as quickly as that moment came, it left, for she saw the look on Remus' face. “We must go, now, Harry,” Remus grabbed his arm and began to pull Harry out the door. Tonks flashed a look down at the Grangers before following her boyfriend and his charge.

“But I want to speak to Hermione.” Harry replied, trying to get a look back at her. The last vision he saw of her was her running down the aisle trying to catch up with them. “Remus, what gives?” The lycane didn't stop pulling Harry as they rushed to the door, Harry stumbled a few times but was able to keep up even with the bags in his hands. “Remus stop.” He planted his feet, as if roots grew out of them, Harry was a mountain, unable to be moved. “I want answers.”

“I can give them to you later, but not here,” Remus said, looking over Harry's shoulders. “please, this isn't safe.”

“Why can't I speak to Hermione,” He asked. He crossed his arms, and glared at his guardian.

“Please, Harry, I promise-”

“Why, Remus, or I'm waiting for her,” His eyes shifted for a moment, darkening as Harry's anger grew. He deserved answers; he would not be kept in the dark.

“There's a breach in security, a mole if you will,” Remus said, still looking around.

“What, like Snape?”

“Worse, someone close,” Remus replied. “Before you ask, I don't know who for certain, but all I know is they've been drugging you Harry, weakening you.” He stood on his toes and saw the Granger's coming towards then, Hermione practically running. “Harry please we must go.”

“Fine.” Harry said and they were gone.

* * * * * *

Remus opened his eyes to find themselves back at the apartment, in Harry's room to be more specific. In truth, he couldn't explain how they were here. The world went dark, as if Remus just blinked and they were here. Tonks was here and Harry… He looked around and saw Harry leaning on the bed, breathing hard. He rushed to his charge and tried to help him, but was thrown back weakly. “I'm fine.” He said, although a bit gruffly. He struggled to pull himself onto the bed fully and once there he took deep breathes.

“What just happened?” Tonks asked, walking over to Harry. She sat down next to him and touched his forehead. “You're burning up again.”

“Aren't I always?” He replied, coughing. Through his fit, his leg started to hurt and he reached forward to rub it. “Merlin, it hurts.”

“I knew that it wasn't just pain.” Remus said. “Some thing's wrong.”

“I'm fine,” Harry coughed again, still weak from the trip. “It's just from the accident, maybe. Probably. Hopefully.”

“I'd never thought I'd see the day when I would hope, sir.” A man appeared in the door way, but his manner told them it was as if he was there along. He wore a dark brown cowboy hat, and a long brown trench coat. “seem to remember me always avoiding that?”

“'fraid I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Thursday.” Harry looked a the man, still wary of his trip and the very first meeting. “Though, I seem to remember you were never a fan of doors, were you.” Thursday shook his head, a smile on his face. “In truth, I don't seem to remember much about you at all, and its strange that I do, since the first time I've met you was that night on the street. Given that knowledge, what does it tell me about you?”

“it says that there is more to you than meets the eyes.” Thursday walked in, and smiled at the group. “hello, my dear Remus, tis been too long.”

“I've met you from somewhere, haven't I?” Remus looked a the man, whose eyes were hidden beneath the brim of the hat.

Thursday shrugged. “A long time ago, I had a conversation with your father and mother about their child. They seemed to be afraid of the fact that he was only half.” Remus' eyes grew wide, while both Tonks and Harry looked confused between the very brief conversation that the two men just had. “in truth, I told them they should just be proud of how great of a son they were going to have, and not to worry about what would come.”

For a while Remus remained quiet, watching the eyes of the new man and Harry as he glared at the man. “I don't like secrets.” Harry sat up fully, a cough itching his throat. “and I certainly don't like surprises. Out with it.” Harry's voice was demanding to say the least. The Power that his words held was something that Remus had never heard before, as if they were magic alone, just by being spoke.

“you are more than what you appear to be, sire,” Thursday said. “in truth, though, I doubt that this means much because you have always been special, but this... this is something that I've been waiting for, something many of us have been waiting for. For while it is a sign of great trouble to come, it is also a sign of great hope that we so desperately need. Something is going to happen and we can not stop it, for it has all ready happened. Rather you are the one we desire so much, our last chance. There are those who don't believe me, but I know it is you, sire. You are meant to save us. You are our last hope.” The man laughed sharply, as if in disgust. “I mean, how can we not? We've seen it happen so many times in so-” He closed his mouth slowly. “but this is not the time for your knowledge of what you are, but rather, simply a meeting, my friend. I will be here when you need me the most, please do no forget that.” He tipped his hat goodbye and left without another word.

For a moment, everything was silent, peaceful, almost dead. Nothing moved, waiting for what was to come next, in anticipation of the words to follow the strange man's departure. Finally, it was Tonks who broke the silence, and the bed side table she was sitting on awkwardly. The legs just broke underneath her, and she fell as gracefully as she always did to the ground. No one moved, until Harry started to laugh. It started soft, but Remus could hear it, and slowly that laugh grew, until Harry fell back, he was laughing so hard.

He had been worried about his surrogate god-son, but now, Remus could ease a bit. Thursday had dropped a bombshell, but Harry's laughter had brought all that sadness and fear to the back of the room, to the back of their minds as he just laughed at his friend's clumsiness. How could he not, the tension was broken, and even Remus was willing to join in the laughter, with Tonks adding her sweet soft giggles to the roar of Harry. It had been weeks, since he had laugh, truly laughed. Elisa's death crushed his spirit, and now that hearty laugh of a boy who had no troubles, replaced the man who sat on the bed, obviously in pain. But now, maybe, his silent, heartbroken days were gone, and maybe they could just survive what was to come.

* * * * * *

Hermione finally opened the letter, after seeing Harry, Remus and Tonks disappear in the middle of mall, after watching Harry's sorrow at not being able to talk to her, at least that was what she hoped was on his face. He didn't want to leave, but he had to. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. And now, with the open letter in her hands, her tears flowing freely, she knew that there was nothing she could do to help him. He was alone, and so was she.

Mary found her daughter curled up on her favorite chair, the letter fell from her hand after she had cried herself to sleep. The chair that had been a place of comfort was now her only haven left, and Mary knew it, hence the reason for Hermione grasping the picture of her and Harry so tightly. She picked up the letter after covering her daughter with a blanket, a safety net for her dreams.

Walking down from the library, she sat on the couch, next to her husband, who was avidly watching a documentary on dinosaurs, snoring away the worries. He awoke when she sat down next to him, turning the letter over in her hands, feeling its importance. “she finally read it?” he asked, stretching and yawning. Joseph pulled his wife closer, and looked over her shoulder as she nodded. “good.” but Mary didn't reply, her eyes and mind were focused upon the letter.

Hermione-

I pray that this reaches you safely and that you are safe. In truth, I am worried about the security of your home, but you are worth the risk, always.

Formalities out the way, I must say I am disappointed in you. To think that you could ever fail me, ever, hurts. I have the utmost faith in your skills, your mind, and your heart. It is because of you that I live today, albeit I think also because of what you taught I was able to find a small amount of happiness, but I learned how swift and fleeting said happiness could be.

Right now, I am with Remus and Tonks, and let me tell you everything has changed. The world I knew it when I woke up had moved on, even you have a bit with your relationship with Ron, which I do hope everything is working out with you two. You deserve happiness. Ginny still mad at me for breaking up? Its hard to catch up when you're over a year behind. So fill me in, whats happened, especially with Voldemort. I need to know. I've found them all, just so you know. Made myself useful while being crippled and cooped up here.

The world is turning mad my friend, and everything has changed. The people around me I can not trust, the places that I once lived in feel strange, worn out even in my memories. The familiar faces are displaced by my turmoil of my emotions. Bright and early I rise for the daily races, and go nowhere, but this room I write this letter in. I drown in my sorrow, and feel like there is no tomorrow, at least until I think of you. Even now, I feel that emptiness that I can only describe as “Hermione-less”.

Its a mad world, my friend, and I pray that everything is alright with you. I wish I could tell you more, but I can't not yet. Please don't stop your letters, yours is pocketed right now, and I read it whenever I need a pick-me-up, which you would be surprise to find out is quite often. I hope that this letter can bring some comfort to you, knowing that you still matter to me.

I NEED YOU HERMIONE GRANGER, never doubt that. And never doubt that I will return for you. Just give me my time.

Poenas Do,

Love

Harry

Mary sat back after finishing it, Joseph placing his head on her shoulder. “I thought you said she didn't even mention her relationship with Ron and how its falling apart.”

“She didn't,” Mary replied. “Harry's changed, and its his handwriting, thats for certain. But this is something else, something darker.” She looked at the bottom of the letter. “Poenas do. If my latin serves me right-”

“I pay the penalty,” Joseph replied. “he needs help, dear, and I doubt that many people know how to deal with a boy like him.”

“But did you see him today? That was no child.”

“Despite all the hardships and trials, he is a child with the weight of the world, even more now. He lost someone.” Joseph pointed to the line about happiness and how swift and fleeting it was. “Someone close. No, Harry is near the edge dear and I doubt that Remus or Tonks can take care of him,” Joseph said, curling into his wife to sleep. “Certainly, he was right though, the world is going mad.”

-->

4. Chapter 4: So Cold

hapter 4: So Cold

Crowded streets are cleared away

One by One

Hallow Heros separate

As they run.

You're so cold,

Keep your hand in mine.

Wise men wonder, while strong man die

Show me how to end this alright

show me how defenseless you really are

Satisfied and empty inside

but that's alright, lets give it another try.

-“So Cold” Breaking Benjamin

Author's Note: wow... I mean... damn... I churned this one out as quickly as I could, considering the massive amount of ideas plugging through my head right now. Hopefully this answers a few questions, at least some directly, others indirectly. Anything that is still confusing, leave a review, I'll work it into the next chapter.

Standard warning: library is mine, everything else isn't.

* * * * * *

Dusk had long past, with the moon rising slowly over the horizon. Hermione had found solace within her books, hoping to remove her fears, and ultimately her tears, from the world, and at the moment was failing miserably. The worlds that once brought her comfort were gone, with a barren wasteland standing in the pasture that once was. She could no longer escape as she had in the past year. Fantasy was not a replacement for reality.

The world was wrong, and with Harry's letter, she knew that much. Everything had changed and was not the way it was meant to be. Ever since Luna had told her about the Library, Hermione felt a part of her missing, as if the illusion of what she saw every day could no longer hide what was truly gone. Her mother told her that things changed, and now that change was evident. Something was wrong and with her broken Eden, her lost innocence, Hermione would, could, no longer sit back and watch the world. She did not need nor want Ron, and she knew that her place was fighting at Harry's side, protecting him from everything.

Hermione closed her book and stood from her favorite chair, the one place that gave comfort since she had been home. But home was where the heart is, and as much as she loved her parents, home was not with them. Home was a distance away, and now it was time to find it. Walking over to her desk, she knew what she must do.

As she began to write the letter that could change her course, her place in history, Mrs. Granger came in to the library. “Mum?” Hermione asked,. Something was wrong, why was everything falling apart. “What is it? Mum, whats wrong?”

“Your father,” she gasped, she must have run from the downstairs to their library. “He just called.” What was so important about a phone call? “He's found Harry.” Hermione nearly jumped from her chair to her mother, almost falling in the process. “Easy dear.” She caught her daughter, and held her as she tried to run.

“I need to go to Harry,” Hermione replied. “Where is he?”

“Honey, Hermione,” Mary said, “Dad's at the hospital right now with him. Harry's in trouble, he's been hurt, and he's getting worse.” Hermione froze. Harry, hurt, this couldn't be happening. Harry was strong, he'll be fine. “Honey, I need to tell you this now, he might die.” No, he couldn't. Harry was going to live and marry and have many children and treat them a thousand, million times better than the Dursleys did to him. He was not going to die. She would make sure of it. “Grab a bag with a few cloths, we're going.”

Hermione looked at her mother. “I figured you'd want to go and not leave him alone right now. Might as well try to be comfortable about the whole thing. Come, get ready. Our ride will be here for us shortly.” Hermione nodded, and with tears in her eyes she ran out the room, ready to see Harry again for the first time in over a year.

* * * * * *

Harry sat ideally, waiting for the tenth test results to come back. Though, sat and ideally were not the words he would have chosen had he them. Lying down and in constant pain were his words. It had taken his urine turning a teaish color before any one suggested muscle death. At least that was what Dr. Granger had told him. Now, three days after see the doctors three different times, muscle death was dreadfully obvious to the doctors after an MRI was done on his leg.

The past three times, Harry went alone, and just requested something for the pain. Given that pain is not the greatest symptom, the doctors recommended heat and bed rest, and each time he did just that, but his leg grew worst. Probably didn't help that he took the syringe of morphine from one of the doctors and injected himself with it. Thought he was a drug addict, but three days and the urgings of another doctor, albeit oral surgeon, brought forth this new knowledge. Remus had sat in his room as they told him of the news, of the infarction that had occurred within his right leg.

The moment the results came back in, they began to believe him and started morphine before he was told the results. “I am terribly sorry about this, Mr. Potter,” the head doctor of the hospital stood in front of him. Her black hair was like his, but bushy like Hermione's. And she almost was kind like Hermione, but the stern exterior was nothing like her, and possibly a bit cold. “The MRI revealed a problem. I am truly sorry that none of your doctors found the problem earlier.”

“No kidding.” Harry glared at her.

“Whats the damage?” Remus asked, standing up from the sit across from Harry's hospital bed. “Doctor...”

“Caroline,” she replied. “The damage is significant enough that we may need to operate and possibly remove...” She sighed and continued. “The MRI showed a aneurysm that had clotted in your leg, thus leading to an infarction.” Harry nodded; he understood, though he didn't quite know how he knew what an infarction was, or an aneurysm or the effects of such an infliction upon his body, but he knew. He did know what operate meant though.

“you're going to cut me open, aren't you,” Harry asked.

“We may need to amputate.” She didn't cut around the bush.

Harry didn't wait for a response. “No,” Harry sank into his bed. “I happen to like my leg.”

“it may be the only option.”

“find another one,” Harry replied, and grunted in pain. The morphine was working, just not well enough. “My leg and I have been through a lot. Really can't see a reason as to why I should lose it.”

“there have been a great advances in technology these days. Kids with prosthetic legs are running the hundred meter dash in 12 seconds.-”

“Yeah, they're just not as pretty.” Harry had developed a nasty bout of sarcasm since the accident. His anger showed through it. “You're not chopping off my leg.”

“the blockage of blood flow-”

“Four day blockage,” Harry corrected.

“-Yes. It could have caused a great deal of muscle death.”

“if its a blockage, then remove it.” Dr. Granger entered the room. Remus had found him at work earlier in the day after Harry had trouble getting to the bathroom from the pain in his leg. While Harry was not happy with the decision to get help, he could not deny that he needed it. He was a kind man, warm was welcoming, as well as large, like a former soldier. He did have a slight American accent that showed when he was anger, like at the receptionist who refused to let them see a doctor right away. Hence this situation and the anger from both men. “Restore circulation.”

“that would release-”

“cytokines and potassium into the blood stream. The cytokines will cause organ failure and the potassium could cause cardiac arrest.” Dr. Granger turned to Harry. “Are those risks acceptable?”

“I get the use of my leg back?” he asked, and grinned as Dr. Granger nodded. “then yes.”

“Mr. Potter, the post operative pain alone could kill you,” Dr. Cuddy replied. “Are you sure that this is what you want?” She looked at Remus, who was legally Harry's guardian.

“it's Harry choice, no one else's,” Remus said, and petted Harry's sweaty hair. The pain was harsh before they came in, and he was running a slight fever. They had been able to persuade the doctors to ignore the elevated temperature and look just at the leg.

“The leg stays,” Harry said, and shifted again, trying to get comfortable. Dr. Caroline nodded and left. “Thanks, Dr. Granger.”

“Joseph,” he corrected, and walked over the other side of Harry, across from Remus. “ How you doing?”

“I've seen better days.” Harry said, shifted on his bed again.

“you okay,” Remus asked. Harry raised an eyebrow. “other than that.”

“I feel like something missing,” He replied. “Maybe its just nerves.”

“Maybe,” Remus nodded. “why don't you get some sleep, we'll take care of the surgery and all the paper work.” Harry closed his eyes, shifted again, and then relaxed. Joseph left the room, and Remus didn't leave until Harry's breathing patterns settled down and fell into the quiet rhythm of sleep.

“Missing something,” Joseph asked as Remus stepped outside. “Sounds like my daughter.”

“probably is,” Remus replied. “he's missed her dearly, even when he dated Elisa for a while.”

“They aren't still together?” That would not bode well for his daughter and her plans, even if they were subconscious. But Remus' somber mood was enough to tell that they weren't' dating any more. “I take it something happened?”

“Something big,” Remus gave a final look at Harry before looking back at Joseph. “Something that changed everything.” He remained silent, thinking of just how everything had changed.

“Wotcher,” Tonks shouted. She had driven to pick up the rest of the Grangers, but Remus was surprised at her company. Apparently, word got out to the Weasleys too. She ran up to her boyfriend and hugged him tightly, becoming the crutch that he needed, taking his twofold pain away. The full moon was but a day away and Remus would have to leave soon. Thus problems would arise, but for now, they focused on Harry's. “do we know-” Remus nodded. He turned watched as Hermione tackled her father, enveloping the man in a hug. “She wouldn't shut up in the car, panicky about him.”

“I figured as much,” Remus said with a smile. “and the Weasleys-”

“Their own car, so we were free to talk about what happened.” Tonks kissed her wolf softly on the brow, giving him the comfort he needed right now. “If what you told me over the phone is true, their in for a rude awakening about Ginny and the lies that she's been telling them.”

“Joseph and I talked to Harry about it while we were waiting for his test results to come back. He said don't. I'm going to assume that he doesn't want them to know. Probably thinks that a unified front would be better than broken, especially if it was over something a little as lying for the sake of hope.” He noticed how nervous Ginny was, hanging to the back of the pack away from Hermione. Luna Lovegood was their and staring like a lovesick child at Ron. “but somehow, I doubt that this will end in any good way.”

* * * * * *

Harry didn't feel like moving, in fact, if he could just get comfortable, he would be the happiest man in the world. Why? Because he had drugs, plain and simple. That right; as of ten o'clock that morning the kind doctors began to pump him full of morphine and other anti-pain drugs. Harry could understand why everyone was addicted to them, honestly, drugs took away all that pain. Even that one... where... he... Maybe he was wrong, the pain wasn't gone, it was masked. Such as the pain of losing Elise, and not seeing Hermione for over a year, though Harry could not fathom why both thoughts caused him pain, they were far from the same severity. He lost Elise entirely,and he knew he would see Hermione, but that single year caused him enough grief to match Elise's death, why. Why was that some harmful? Why was he hurting so much over simply lost time, not love? He lost his first love to a brutal murder by the hands of Death Eaters, and all he could think about was Hermione and how upset she must have been at him for disappearing. Clearly it was the drugs missing up with his system, in fact he could assume safety that all this confusion was due to the drugs. He sighed and shuffled around on his bed, trying to get comfortable for sleep. The thoughts came from the drugs, and that should comfort him alone.

“But not the pain, Harry,” it was her voice. It couldn't be, she was dead. He saw it, watched her die in his arms. “and don't assume, it makes an ass of you and me.” He opened his eyes to see himself standing in the meadow again. Elise stood in front of him, smiling, looking beautiful in her sundress with large sunflowers on it. She giggled and ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him. “I've missed you Harry.”

“Elise, its you, its really you,” he tightened his arms around her. “I've died, then, I'm here with you finally.” She pulled away, and frowned at him.

“No, silly, you are far from dead,” she smiled at him again, and took his hand. “in fact, we're about to be see the beginning of your new life.” Elise giggled as she pulled him towards a large building standing in the distance, lightning crashing around it, echoing even were they stood.

“where are we then, if I'm not dead?” Harry asked. “A dream?” It could as simple as that, this was nothing more than his imagination, giving him what he wanted. But she didn't answer. “If not a dream, and I'm not dead then what?”

Some how they hand crossed the immeasurable distance in a matter of moment, leaving them standing right outside the columns of the behemoth of a place. “This is Home for you Harry,” Elise said, waving her hand to show him everything, a tour guide on a simple tour. “Thursday, as the name you took this time, was kind enough to explain it all to me.” she smiled sweetly at him. “he's inside, waiting for you.”

“Explain what?” he asked.

“why you and I could never be together, silly,” she kissed him on his nose. Elise giggled as she pulled back, that smile intoxicating to him, drowning all of his sorrows and worries. If only he could stay, if only this was real, and he could remain by her side away from all of that pain. But her words would haunt him, they were not meant to be together. She was meant to die. Why was such an innocent soul meant to be tortured and ruined by the night. He was about to ask a question when he hears something. Elise looked to the horizon miles away. A voice echoed in the distance, as if it were nothing but the thunder that roared over head. “oops, time to go. Next time you come back, I'll tell you all that I can, and make sure you enter this place. Just remember where you are, who you are, Harry.”

“Elise, wait,” Harry said, but it was too late. He woke up, and the meadow and the dark clouds and the thunder were gone.... fading into nothing, into his memory.

“Harry?” it was Remus' voice, kind and fatherlike. The old lycane would never try to replace his father, and Harry and Remus knew that, but each knew that he could be a friend and a guide, and it was something Harry always wanted.

“I was dreaming Remus,” And the lycane understood. It was through his dreams that Harry began to understand just what was happening to him, how he found all of the horacruxes and who Thursday was. The illusion was but a few steps away and he was so close. It hurt to hear the words from Elise' mouth, about how he couldn't be with her. Why? What was so important that he couldn't stay with his first love?

“Harry!” Hermione tackled him from the doorway. If he wasn't so happy to see he, he would question how she dove that far, but in truth, she was here again, and that was all that mattered. Her vice-like grip held him, almost cracking his back it was so tight.

“Hermione, as much as I love to see you right, I also have this dying desire to breathe.” She pulled back and smiled sweetly at him. But she did not pull away. Rather, she took a seat next to him on the bed, a place he would gladly give for her. For after all, she was Hermione, she deserved no less. After a bit of less enthusiastic hugging, she pulled away, removing her arms from his body, but casually they slid to his hands, where they gripped almost as tightly as her hug was, as if ensuring that he would not disappear again.

For a moment they were quiet, content with the fact that they had each other again. It was then, Harry's observational skills took root and showed him something that old Harry would not notice: that Hermione was crying, or would be shortly. Tears built up behind the barriers that she developed to prevent the world form seeing her pain. “Hermione, whats wrong?” He reached out, wiped away a stray tear that had fallen down her cheek.

“you're alive, Harry,” Hermione replied. “Nothing's wrong. You're alive and everything is right again.” Her tears did not fall though. “so much has changed.”

“I can see that,” he gave her an appraising look, smiling the entire time. “And in truth, some changes at good.” Hermione's blush was adorable, beautiful even. He could never get Elise to blush, hard as he try, but Hermione, with a simple truth, Hermione could turn as bright as Rudolph's nose. “But I assume we aren't talking about those changes.”

“They certainly have been good to you.” Hermione was no longer that shy girl. The few times with Ron had given her a bit of confidence, but not enough to look Harry in the eyes as she flirted with him. But the smile, or rather smirk, on her face and the glances to him as she played with a stray string from the bed told him that it was truthful.

“My dear,” Harry laughed as he had so long ago, “That sounds like an attempt at court me.” Her blush deepened and she turned away from her, trying not to show her smile. “I heard you were taken.”

“yes, well...” Hermione couldn't reply, whether it was her conscious or her desires pushing her towards an answer, she couldn't tell Harry that she was dating Ron, not after what happened everything. “Some times change, Harry. I grew closer to Ron since you were gone.” She moved further away, barely sitting on the hospital bed any more.

“I figured as much,” Harry's smile slowly disappeared. “When should I expect the wedding?”

“wedding?” She didn't appear to understand.

“Yes, you know, the vows of love and honor, til death do you part.” Harry tried to look Hermione in the eye to find out the truth about her and Ron, but she refused to met his stare. “Come on, you love him don't you?” But she never got the chance to answer. The Weasleys entered the room.

“The nurse said-” Remus started to say, but Mrs. Weasley, the eternal mother, smothering to no end refused to listen.

“We are family,” She said, and her face softened to see Harry, but quickly hardened again at the sight of how close he was to Hermione, or rather vice versa. “Harry dear.”

“Not right now, Mrs. Weasley.” He replied, curt and short. They shouldn't be here. Why were they here. Remus knew better than to contact them, and he made sure Mr. Granger knew that he didn't want to see them. So what were the family of red heads doing here. “I have surgery soon, I need rest.”

“Dear, Ginny and Ron are here to-”

“I'm talking to Hermione right now.” He turned back to Hermione, but knew that his chance of getting answers had ended to moment the matriarch had entered. Her defeated face told him so.

“Surely, you could talk to us,” the woman was too stubborn for her own good. It was clear where Ginny got that same streak from. “Ginny has told us so much.”

“she has, hasn't she?” Harry stiffened at he words. He knew of the lies, Mr. Granger had been kind enough to inform Harry what the female Weasley had told everyone, including their continued relationship. “Well, then you know that it is on a need-to-know basis, and you do not need to know. And my name isn't surely.”

“Harry, if you thought that something needed to be done, you should have allowed-”

“Allowed, as if this is really your war? As if I'm some child?” He barked. “who has Tommy boy been after for so long? Who was the one who survived the killing curse? Who-”

“Harry,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted him, and Harry was not pleased. “you're too young for this, let those who know what they are doing. Thats why we are here, you are hear to get an education and marry-” But he would not let her finish.

“Then clearly, I shouldn't tell you.” Harry's voice froze the blood of everyone around him. His cold words stopped Mrs. Weasley in mid-sentence. No one dared to move, but Harry felt Hermione's hand tighten in his own, giving him a bit of strength. “i think its time everyone leaves.” Hermione looked hurt, but she nodded, understanding. “I want some sleep before my surgery.”

Mrs. Weasley, still shocked at Harry's outburst allowed herself to be led out by Remus. But as Hermione tried to get up, Harry's grip wouldn't let her. He needed to tell her something before she left, or else he couldn't get that sleep he wanted so badly. There were no secrets between them, not any more. He needed to tell her. “Hermione,” Harry smiled at her sheepishly. “You are right, I've changed, I've grown.” She nodded. “as you can see, I no longer need my glasses.”

“I figured it was contacts to help you hide from everyone.” Such an obvious answer, but so far from the truth.

“No, I can see perfectly, and now realize just how blind I was before. So much has happened, and you need to know part of the reason why I've grown.” Harry took a deep breathe. Elise was his past, his heart knew she was gone and he could not have her back. Hermione was not his, and would never be his, especially since she did not see him that way. So he could be here friend, but there were no secrets between friends. So he needed to tell her. “I had a girlfriend for about six months, we were... intimate.” Hermione didn't say anything. She seemed to want to as a question, but couldn't bring herself to ask it. Harry was surprised at her reaction, her kind expression slowly transformed to one carved into stone, her hands pulled away and she refused to look at him. “She's dead, if you wanted to know.” That emotion, whatever it was disappeared quickly, his words bring her sympathy. The old Hermione was never this emotional, as far as Harry could remember. Her arms tightened around him, holding him as close as she could.

“I am so sorry, Harry,” she whispered through her tears.

“thats not what is important right now,” Harry replied. The nurse was standing at the door, waiting for Hermione to leave. He pulled away and looked into the chocolate eyes, almost losing himself in them. “the surgery will occur early in the morning. I want to see you before it. Tell Remus and your dad, and I'm sure they'll get it taken care of. Please.” she nodded. “This is important, Hermione, more than anything else, please.”

“I won't fail you again,” Hermione said, and kissed him on the forehead before leaving him alone in the darkness, with nothing but his dreams. She turned off the lights, leaving only the ambient light from outside the glass wall separating Harry from the lobby, and closed the door, allowing the Boy-Who-Lived to be come the Man-Who-Dreamed.

“What was that about, young lady,” Mrs. Weasley demanded the moment Hermione left.

“I have no idea,” Hermione replied. Ginny was no where in sit, but Ron was in the waiting room, with Luna sleeping on his shoulders. They couldn't continue. Not like this, she didn't love him.

“He refused to speak to me,” She said.

“I noticed, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione walked past the matriarch and straight to Ron. They needed to end this, she couldn't continue on with the facade. Mrs. Weasley placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder, but the young witch shrugged her off. “please, I need to talk to Ron.” This was the of her old life, and the beginning of her new one, where she wasn't afraid of escaping her mold and being who she felt she was meant to be not who she was told to me.

* * * * * *

Harry opened his eyes and found himself back in the meadow, only this time, he was lucid. He knew of the world around him, at least its false existence, and he knew where he needed to be. The moment he found library, so far in the distance, he ran towards it, his feet no longer under his control. His body was no longer under his control. Harry ran towards the behemoth of a building, picking up speed with each step. At the last step, his entire body jolted to a halt, ending just beyond the stairs leading to the Library. “Harry!” Elise's arms wrapped around him. “I knew you'd find us again. Come, there is so much we have to discuss.” She pulled away, her hand finding his.

“What is this place?” Harry asked.

“Simply put,” Elise smiled at him. “Its the Library.”

“What, it holds books?” Harry paused as they began to walk up the steps. “What so special about that?” He watched as she dropped his hand, and gave him a once over, looking for something specific about him.

“So we know which one you are.” Elise smirked at him, and grabbed his hand. “now, can you hold your questions until we met him.”

“I guess,” Harry returned it and followed his girlfriend, while, ex-girlfriend up the stairs. She opened the large wooden doors, and Harry was greeted with an immense building, with rows and rows of books stretching further than he could see. A few tables were placed in between some rows, but the horizon that appeared at the end of the rows was but a singular point, infinity.

“You know,” Thursday appeared on the second story balcony, with more books on the walls. Dear Merlin did it ever end? “I was surfing a perfectly good brain wave and then you have to enter.”

“What does that mean?” Harry replied, glaring at the man in the duster.

“It means we found the right one. At least one of you.” he jumped down over the railing and landed a few feet from them. “Knod's Halo, its felt like only yesterday it was me.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry watched as Thursday removed his hat and duster, underneath wearing a black business suit. The man carefully placed the discarded items on a chair. “What in Merlin's name is this place?”

“I believe Elise called it the Library correct?” Harry nodded. “Well that is the best name that mortals have been given. They just simply can't speak the name in the true tongue.”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“Am I?” Thursday had bright blue eyes. “A name is the beginning of the story, it tells people where to start. So the idea that the true name of this place can not be spoke except by those who are not mortal states that this is-”

“A place of immortality.” Harry finished. He looked down one of the aisles, trying to see the end. “So is this a place of infinity?”

“sorta, most people can not reach it, even after death. Why, even sweet Elise hear had a hard time finding it and would not have had I not spirited her away before her death.”

“I fear that I do not have much time left here, soon I need to go to my final resting.”

“I thought you died?” If she wasn't dead then-

“No you misinterpreted what I said,” Thursday took a step towards Elsie. “She is already dead, but there was unfinished business she needed to take care of, and I needed some help.” He looked ashamed about it. “Probably will get some ribbing for ti too when I am done.”

Harry looked back and forth between the two people, completely and utterly confused. “harry sit down, I'll explain it the best I can.” Elise said. He trusted her, and at least hoped she would be able to tell him what exactly was going on. He took the nearest seat, and accepted the glass of water from Thursday, though had no idea where I can from.

“You know of angels, right?” Harry nodded. “And how demons came from the Fall, correct?” Another nod. “There was a fall before the great battle, the one that split heaven into two factions. though only one angel fell. His name has been last to history and time in memoriam, but what we do know is his that his punishment was not one for lack of obedience, but necessity. This angel had found a way to gain power through knowledge, for no knowledge was forbidden at that time. It was his duty to record the events of time.”

“In truth, he gained it too rapidly, and was growing too quickly for the sake of God,” Thursday interrupted. “his power, knowledge came from the task of recording what happened before the making of the world. And the accumulation of that knowledge, led him to the belief that it was his sole duty to record knowledge.” Elise glared at the man. “Sorry, Continue.”

“The angel had too much power basically, so God, being the pragmatist he was, used that power to his advantage. By creating a separate realm from heaven and earth, He was able to house all that knowledge, that power. And by casting the angel from heaven to that realm, he was able to ensure his hold on power in the realm of Earth So with his new power in the realm of Knowledge, this fallen angel was able to record all of history, from every realm, and at all times, becoming a god within the realm. Outside he was still angel, albeit fallen, so he still could be commanded by God. The knowledge that this angel had gain lent himself great power, but God's blessing did not come without a price.”

“Even angels have souls, Harry,” Elsie said. “and to ensure complete obedience out of his servant, God split the angel's into two, sending one to earth to live as a mortal. Thus the angel, whom is called the Librarian throughout history, took mortal form in the most dire of times to find his second half. With the possibility of infinite realms due to choices, it is easy enough to decide what is the true realm by what one the Librarian is currently incarnated in, as he searches for his love. And it is from him that we get the term soul mates, as two halves of his soul are in two bodies.” Harry nodded.

“Being immortal, the Librarian is reborn for the times of strife and danger to help out, as if he was an angel sent down from heaven. The collection of knowledge comes from the dead. Its all in a contract between him and God to ensure the chance to be meet and reunite with his love.”

“most of the time, the Librarian doesn't even know the truth, like me. And most of the time they are ordinary people, unlike me. ” Thursday said, “until they are dead. And then their soul splits again so both parts can leave in harmony in the after life...”

“Again?” Harry asked.

“Yes, for there are two parts, well now four, to the Librarian. The mortal soul and the immortal soul, so when the mortal body dies, the souls are reunited in heaven, and they can have the peace they deserve.”

“but that doesn't explain why I am here?” Harry replied. “I mean, its a wonderful story. And you've completely confused me further with the vagueness of it. But what does it have to do with me.”

“You changed the interior of this place, you have power beyond that of a mortal man, even a few immortal beings Harry,” Thursday said, “Your eyes are perfect because you want them to be. Your strength is a byproduct of all this new magic in your system. The thing with the Horacruxes? You knew how to do that. That knowledge came from here.” Harry was still confused, he looked back and forth between the two of them, as if he couldn't see the answer. Elise smiled at him and knelt down in front of Harry.

“Harry, it means that you are the next incarnation of the Librarian,” Elise took his hand, caressing the back softly, lovingly. “you are meant to save the world.”

* * * * * *

Mr. Granger watched silently as his little girl broke up with her first real boyfriend, there were no tears, no words exchanged above normal decibel, nothing that would entire a normal breakup. But then again, their relationship was anything but normal. He had heard so little from Hogwarts, that he was worried about how the relationship was going, and when his wife reported Hermione was looking for muggle contraceptives, he knew that they were serious, somewhat. Joseph never expected much from the relationship, and hoped that it would end peacefully. At least he could entertain that his daughter was still innocent and wasn't going to be dating any time soon again, even with what was happening with Harry.

“Joe?” Mary asked. She was currently reading the paper. “is everything alright?”

“Hmm?”

“you've been staring at the wall for the past hour,” She reached over and touched his forehead. “everything okay?”

“I do not know.” he shook his head. An hour had past, which meant that night was falling soon. The Weasleys, well Mrs. Weasley, would want to stay near to find out what would happen, so hotel arrangements needed to be made. He stood up and stretched. Remus had been able to inform him of what was happening in the Wizarding world during the car ride and while waiting for the test results on Harry. The world was going to be in a terrible place, and he was insane to remain in England waiting for it to happen. A trip across the pond to America with Hermione would ensure safety for their family, maybe even bring Harry, Remus and Tonk along, since he doubted Hermione would want to leave Harry after this, and the boy would not want to leave his adoptive god-parents in such a dangerous situation. But for now, the matter of Harry's health needed to be dealt with. And then in turn, those who showed up to see him.

“Honey, do you know if the Weasleys will be staying around for the night.” Mary had chosen to stay and wait for Harry, since Hermione would refuse to leave, and Joe was one of the few adults Harry trusted. Remus was being locked away for his transformation, and Tonks was there with him, taking care of him the best she could under such conditions.

“Best ask them dear,” She replied. “though, I could guess that Harry would not want them to stay.”

“Why would that be?” he smirked as he looked at the waiting room, Mr. Weasley was fascinated with some magazine, constantly asking questions to himself about whatever was in it. The Twins had left to take care of their shop, leaving Ron sitting there with Luna and Mrs. Weasley had take to yelling/talking to Hermione about the whole manner of Harry and breaking up with her son. Ginny had disappeared. “Mary?”

“Hmm?”

“you see Ginny.” His wife shook her head. Joseph didn't trust te girl, not after how she manipulated their daughter into a relationship and into believe that she was in contact with Harry. But they couldn't prove anything, so right now they waited. “I'm going to go check on Harry.” He gave one last look at the waiting room a few meters away and walked to Harry's private room.

The room was almost completely dark as Joseph walked in. Ginny was inside, sitting right next to Harry, petting his hair. Her red hair looked like it was soaked with blood in the darkness, and her pale white skin looked even paler with the horrible light from outside. If she noticed him, she did not move. “I know the truth,” he said, hoping to get answers, for himself and for her daughter.

“I figured as much,” the girl replied, but did not move from her chair. “after Hermione broke up with Ron, she must know that I've been-”

“lying to everyone about you and Harry,” he finished. Ginny did not reply.

“he's meant to be mine,” Ginny said. “I know it, he loves me and I love him.”

“if that were the case, you would not need to fabricate the letters.” she did not reply. “you've hurt my daughter, and I will never forgive you for it.”

“I don't care about your daughter,” Ginny snapped, turning around. Her eyes had sunken in, and she looked almost gaunt. This was not a healthy normal girl. “She was nothing but a means to get my Harry.”

“you can never own a person,” Joseph replied. “He's free. You can not cage him.”

“not when I'm done,” she said, turning back to Harry. “he's my precious and I won't let you get him.” the words remained him of a book he had read so long a go, of a man who became obsessed with a single object, killing himself and destroy the object. “Besides, what could you do, you're just a Muggle.” She was right about that, but he was far from just a Muggle. Over fifteen years in service of Uncle Sam, black ops nonetheless, so Joseph Granger was far from just anything. He had kept in shape and practiced in the basement, in a room behind their wine cellar,. No, he was dangerous, just no one but Mary knew how dangerous he was.

But he would not allow this little girl to learn it now. That time would come later. But he would not allow her to get the last word in. “you may be devote, Ginny,” Joseph said, “But what you like is vision, and you will never see what is truly in front of you: your obsession will be the ruin of you. Now get out, before I call the nurses.” Ginny did not challenge him, and she would not. Slowly, she got up and with one last longing look at Harry, she left the room, leaving Joseph to plan his next move to ensure the safety of his family, which from his daughter's reaction to Harry's predicament, would include the bi-speckled wizard.

* * * * * *

“So let me get this straight,” Harry said, walking the aisles of the Library. “I am some uber-angel with power that could annihilate the entire planet with a breath.”

“Basically,” Thursday replied. “Actually, you are more the incarnate of the original uber-angel. You are draw power from here.” He pulled a book from a shelf and began to flip through it. “But truth be told, you might be one of the more powerful ones.”

“Right, there are countless ones before me, correct?”

“Yes.”

“But I am only half, the power, not the knowledge.”

“Correct.”

“but I can still use this knowledge.”

“to a degree, you can do things at brute force, like change the world at a whim, but it is brute force. Without control, without knowledge, you'd burn yourself out literally.”

“And Elise?”

“Shortly will be going to heaven, so I shall take my leave, and allow you to say your goodbyes,” he said, and looked at the blond haired girl, standing shyly in the background. “I hope you are ready.”

“in a few minutes, I will be,” She kissed Thursday on the cheek, who had the decency to blush. The man walked towards the entrance, only a dozen meters away or so. “Hey you,” she said, walking towards Harry.

“Hey,” he responded. For a moment, he didn't know what to say. But when he opened his mouth, Elise spoke first.

“Before you say anything, let me say thank you.”

“for what?”

“for loving me,” she replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “you were the first person I had met who loved me for me, no pity, no 'oh she's a shy little wall flower who just wants attention.' while the latter may be true, you gave and did not ask for anything in return. You held me as if I were the most precious thing in the world. Thursday was kind enough to show me who your second half was, and if you gave me but a sixteenth of what you gave her, I know I have been blessed. You-”

“Elise,” Harry started. She had tears forming in her eyes, and he couldn't help but reach to her. But she refused his hold.

“No, it would make this harder.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “thank you, Harry James Potter, for showing me what love is. I can only wish that this second half of you learns how wonderful you are and cherishes you. If she doesn't I'm coming back and haunting her.” This time Harry didn't take 'no' for an answer. He hugged her as tightly as he could, as he did the night she died. Her tears flowed freely, she cared no longer if she cried or did not.

“i can offer you nothing more than the knowledge of the fact that were you go, you will finally find that love you yearn for so much.” Harry whispered.

“You already sound like him,” She said, hiccuping as she pulled away.

“Who?”

“The Librarian.”

“well, I guess I must get used to the fact that I am something more than normal.” Harry smirked. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, listen to the music that started but a few minutes again. Trumpet, glorious heralds proclaiming it is time. “I can hear them calling for you, you know that.” He opened his eyes again, staring at hers.

“An angel always could,” She replied. Harry nodded and turned away, a part of him knowing that he could not watch, by law or by reason, it was not his to watch. He quickly turned around and kissed her with as much force of love as he could manage. She would remain in his heart, even if he would someone new. He walked away, his hand running against the books, his tears flowing down his cheeks. As a bright light appeared behind her, he could not hear her last words, “or a devil.”

* * * * * *

Back in his room, alone in the darkness, Harry dreamt of halls of books, of columns of knowledge, of a place known only to a few. He did not know that when the Grangers had left, hours after the Weasleys had returned home, that he was not alone. It wasn't those who cared for him for the doctors had left him alone for a while know, he was in stable condition. No, his visitors were ones that had seen him once before. “My, he's grown,” the woman spoke, walking from the window to the the seat next to the bed.

“Have you seen the streets,” the man said, perched on the open windowsill. “They have been clearing away, as if the world is awaiting his arrival.” his black cloak covered his entire body, hiding in the darkness.

“What are you talking about, my heart?” the woman asked, she wanted to touch him so badly.

“He's no longer that hallow hero we spoke of,” the man said, he stood far from the windows to the hallway, far from the light. “he is drawing them closer to him.” The woman sat next to him, her hand so close to him. “you can touch him, it won't hurt him.”

“but-”

“My love,” the man said, walking carefully over to her. “We have risked much by coming here, no more damage can be done. Trust me.”

“thats what you said that got us into this mess.”

“my family will not hurt him.” the man said, “he is, after all, the son of-”

“A good man,” the woman finished. “you are not who they make you to be. You've shown me that.” She took his hand, caressing it softly, her tears forming. So long had it been since she had held her son, now, with seventeen years on him, he had grown so much. “he's so cold.” her free hand touched his cheek gently, as a mother would. So much death, so much destruction would come shortly, and now, they were unsure of everything. “Wise men wonder.”

“And the strong men die,” the man finished. “he will live, and he will make you wonderful grandchildren, I promise.”

“I remember the last promise you gave me,” she smirked lovingly at him. “you were right, he is strong.”

“And he'll be stronger,” the man repeated. His eyes no longer glowed red. He gave up much for the form he had now, as had she.

“James?” she looked up at her husband. “Show me how to end this, alright? You've shown me how defenseless he really is.”

“I can't, I am a guide now, my time will be shortly,” he replied. “Lily you know that. We are hear for a reason and-”

“The man who Hunts him,” Lily caressed his cheek one more time. “he will not be satisfied with just Harry.”

“he'll be empty until he has the second half.” James placed a hand on his wifes shoulder. “It'll be alright, I promise. This is our second try to protect him, and by Merlin, I'll make sure it'll work this time.” He squeezed the shoulder softly, and kissed her cheek. “come my sweet little angel, his surgery is tomorrow. Thursday is finishing up with him tonight, he will need the rest. Tomorrow will be possible one of the most trying days of his life.”

“yes my handsome devil,” she replied. She kissed Harry's forehead softly, whispering her love for him before she pulled away. James was already at the open window, ready to leave. He climbed out and stretched his black crow wings, ready to fly away. James was always a natural fly, and it was time to go home. Lily gave once last look, said a silent pray for her son and his trials, left through the open window, her red wings spreading as she flew away.

-->

5. Carry You Home

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 clichÃ©,” 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 clichÃ©, 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,Â 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 aboutâ€‹? “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.

-->

6. My Heroine

Chapter 6: My Heroine

the drugs begin to peak
A smile of joy arrives in me
But sedation changes to panic and nausea
And breath starts to shorten
And heartbeats pound softer.

You wont try to save me
You just want to hurt me and leave me desperate.

You taught my heart
A sense I never knew I had
I can't forget
The times that I was lost and depressed from the awful truth
How do you do it?
You're my heroine.

You won't leave me alone
Chisel my heart out of stone
I give in everytime.

You taught my heart
A sense I never knew I had
I can't forget
The times that I was lost and depressed from the awful truth
How do you do it?
You're my heroine

I bet you laugh
At the thought of me thinking for myself (myself)
I bet you believe (bet you believe)
That I'm better off with you than someone else

Your face arrives again
All hope I had becomes surreal
But under your cover's
More torture than pleasure
And just past your lips
There's more anger than laughter
Not now or forever will I ever change you
I know that to go on I'll break you, my habit

You taught my heart
A sense I never knew I had
I can't forget
The times that I was lost and depressed from the awful truth
How do you do it?
You're my heroine

I will save myself.

* * * * * *

A/N: Another chapter up and I would like to say anyone who has problems with the story, please email, especially since you are offering to be a beta for me, which would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for the reviews and pleaes continue. I do take critcism(hence I'm looking for a beta), even flames, just please review.

* * * * * *

Harry did not want to move. When he awoke from his coma, he already knew the damage; he could feel what was missing, the chuck of his right leg that was removed in surgery. That and pain. The pain was definitely there. He did not want to move simply because if he did the pain would be worse. The majority of the pain was gone, so it wasn't like before, where he was aching all over; now the pain remained in his leg. So Harry did not want to move. He kept his eyes closed, took deep breathes and just wanted to go back to sleep, into his coma, where he could talk to his father, or someone, anyone. He shifted down in the sea of darkness again.

Everything had changed with the knowledge he gained from his father, but wisdom was not part of the deal, Harry figured out. Harry had the knowledge of who he was, but not the wisdom of what it all meant. He was a half-devil, as par with the curse afflicted upon the Potter line back to Gryffindor. He was the Librarian, meaning infinite power but itty-bitty living space for it. In other words, Harry was powerful. He just had no idea how to use it.

The second act of knowledge that Harry possessed was the knowledge that somewhere out in the big world, there was a person who was his second half, a knowledge to his power. Who it was Harry had no clue. In fact there were no clues to the identity of this person. For the love of Merlin, let her be a her! A little prayer to the dead world around him, and Harry drifted further along the black river under the black sky and surrounded by black earth. So he thought about his second half, the brain to his brawn if he could be clichÃ© and he was alone so he would be so there. Don't fight him on this, its not how things work.

There was a telephone ringing in the distance, and Harry wished someone would answer it. Maybe she could. Well, the question of who she was important and had to be taken into account of his plans. Harry drifted on the river, thinking of who he knew that would fit into this idea of his 'second half'. He quickly threw out Cho as an option, followed by the rest of the Ravenclaws. Knowledge was one thing, and while the Ravenclaws had what he required none had ever interested him, save Luna but that was because she was interesting. The Slytherins weren't even considered, which may be a bad thing, but in truth, Harry didn't want to deal with any of them.

Hufflepuffs were a choice, Harry liked a good loyal woman, but again he never really met most of them, save knowing Susan Bones. And Gryffindors, well, most of them were brave yeah, but who could he, well there was Ginny. Yeah that seemed like a good choice. Ginny was smart, brave, loyal and ambitious, all the qualities that a person would look for in a second half. But the problem that Harry saw, especially now with an awaken idea of what Ginny was doing to him, was that she was obsessed with the idea of Harry.

For somewhere, else where, in the land in the light away from the dark ocean/river he floated on, there was this idea of Harry Potter. The idea of Harry Potter was a convoluted and messy topic that scholars to the next five hundred years would debate on the wrong topic. The idea of Harry Potter revolved around the Hero, and myths form and die around the Hero. Harry could not fall for a person who saw him as just the Hero, not just Harry.

Just Harry. He smirked and began to backstroke in his mind. He was bored again, despite thinking about this, and as tired as he was, he wanted to resolve the problem at hand. It wasn't necessary that Harry knew who was his second half at the moment, but he figured that he already knew who it was, someone who was close to him all his life, who had been there every step of the way. Someone named Hermione Granger. There was doubt, and there would be until he talked to her, but for the moment, he was content with the knowledge that there was a possibility that his heart belonged to a bossy know-it-all with bushy hair and legs to die for. Made more sense then anything else.

He just wanted to sleep at the moment, given his thinking had tired him out, not the coma thing, even with the pain, he decided that it was better that he was out of it, not he could react. He was just below the surface, waiting. How long was he waiting, he didn't know, but he did know that his leg only throbbed a bit, the morphine it must have been. That bloody phone was still ringing, why doesn't someone answer it. He couldn't get up yet, his feet not under him but before him. Harry waved at his feet when he looked down at his body, they were still there at least. Ginny didn't screw that up.

Harry knew. He knew everything that happened the moment it happen, and it wasn't because he stood in the Library or his father told him. Harry expected it, or rather, he forced the premonition and knowledge to come to him. It like hell too, doing that, but it was something Harry figured was necessary. At least now, when ever he decided it was time to break the water's tensions and surface from beneath the darkness, he could begin what he needed to do, which he figured was a lot. Problem equal to the number of questions he would be required to answer once he awoke. He reached for the surface, but his arm fell down and slowly, Harry drifted back into the darkness.

The ringing hadn't stopped.

Harry drifted back to just underneath the surface, feeling that it was time to get to work. His leg hurt, the telephone hadn't stopped ringing yet. And now was not the time to be resting. He just couldn't reach the surface of the darkened water, stretching and stretching. His arms would break the tension and he could not be free.

He growled in anger. He hated when things weren't going his way. Reaching out again, ignoring that damn ringing, Harry grasped the edge of the light and the darkness, where both of the world met. Just beyond his grasp was consciousness and he lied still in the slumber land. Someone was holding him, offering their help their strength, which Harry took gladly. Never had he felt safe before as that person's hand on him, but now was not the time for just relaxing in the glow of safety. He hated when plans didn't go according to what he wanted.

And Harry had been planning for a long time.

The surgery kept him under for almost eight hours. In that time, Harry extended it enough so that he was able to exist for eight days, absorbing the information of his life, as that was the most he had access to as well as talk with his father about his further as a devil. In those eight days, since Harry had little access to any of his powers, only what being in the Library allowed him, which also excluded any knowledge he didn't know, but a devil's blood contained a great deal of knowledge, so Harry was able to keep himself informed of what was possible, but not how.

This was not time for sleep. Now was the time for action. Action could not be conducted lying down, but rather, a person had to be up and moving.

Harry wanted to be moving.

He needed to be moving.

Fuck this.

* * * * * *

Hermione was sitting next to Harry, holding his hand. Her parents were standing their with her, watching the young wizard breath in and out slowly. She wanted to Weasleys sent away for what they did to Harry, but there was nothing they could do for the crime they committed. Well, no one else considered it a crime except the Grangers, especially Hermione.

It was a betrayal against Harry, the worst crime a person could commit, she blamed no one but Ginny, and maybe Molly. Ginny for conspiring and setting up Harry so he would be injured and dependent, for going against Harry's wishes. Molly for allowing Ginny to indulge in the Boy-Who-Lived fantasies, and for feeding them to her daughter in the first place.

Molly was outraged when Hermione demanded that both of them leave, and she was shocked when the Matron of the Weasley refused to do so, simply because she could take care of Harry better than the doctors, or her parents, or Hermione. No one took care of Harry, that was her job.

Was her job. Recently, he's been so injured and in dire need of medical attention, her job was taken away from her. And placed in the hands of one Ginny Weasley, a crime that there was no greater. Now Harry was lying in a hospital bed with a hole in his leg, wounded more than he wanted to be, as if he wanted to be hurt in the first place. Harry would have thrived through the pain had he been given the chance. But that chance was taken away from him, and now he was left in pain for the rest of his life. There would be therapy and there would be more doctors and there would -

Red lightning tore through the room and her parents jumped back. Hermione did not move, she would not move from Harry's side. The lightning was coming from him, and his grip tightened on her hand. If he could, he probably would have pulled her closer into his arms, but the dead hand that held her was no longer dead. A guttural groan came from the shadows, willow-wisps of purple light flickering around the room. Screams of pleasure and pain echoed through the occupants ears, the light turned the room the shade of blood as a red liquid filled the fluorescent lights above them. Runes in a decadent purple flashed around, ones that she did not recognize from her studies. Hermione pulled herself closer to Harry as the room's angles shifted slightly, bending unnaturally beneath a phantom weight. Her parents were hold each other tight as the lightning continued to stretch out and reach beyond the darkness. No one spoke a word, the screams that enveloped the room came from outside, the room, the world, the existence.

Then Hermione blinked.

When her eyes were opened again, everything was back to normal. No lightning, nothing singed, no willow-wisps of darkness, no screams, no blood-red vision, no abnormal angles. Her parents were standing next to the window surprised as she was. Because she was laying next to Harry and he was slowly stroking her hair, her head on his chest, rising slowly and falling effortlessly. For a moment, neither said anything, and Hermione had never felt as safe as she did at that moment. In Harry's arms, him the injured one, there was nothing that could hurt her. And like a mother lion, no one would hurt her Harry from this position. It was time that she took an active role in protecting him, rather than assuming someone would watch him. “That,” he whispered through his dry throat, “hurt.” She didn't move from her comfortable lumpy pillow.

Hermione didn't know if she should cry or slap him for scaring her, so she just stayed there. “at least the ringing stopped.” he continued, and laced his finger through her hair. Every muscle tightened and her fear gripped her. Why was she afraid. She wanted to move, but his grip was tight, and Hermione relaxed. Harry would protect her. Wasn't she suppose to protect him. “You try to move again, Hermione, and I'm stupefying you. I needed a warmer blanket and you work great.” she giggled against his chest, and he joined in her laughter, only to begin coughing.

“Am I hurting you?” Hermione sat up and looked with worry, her eyes searching his green ones. Sharper than ever, and something sparked behind them.

“You are now,”he replied, and pulled her back down. “You aren't dating Ron, so that means for now, you are my blanket. Now, lie flat and keep me warm.” he paused for a moment, and screwed up her face. “that wasn't meant to be sexual.”

Mr. Granger was the one who snorted, while Hermione tried to sit up again. “Blankets don't move.” Harry smirked and pulled her back down. “Now stop moving. Missus Granger, Mr. Granger? Can you get a nurse, I'm sure they'd like to check on me.” Apparently, he wanted them out so he could talk to her alone. Which was fine by her. Hermione had developed a case of blushing and couldn't stop, so she buried her face into his chest. And Harry gladly pulled her closer. “Thank you,” he said, his voice husky and gravelly, sending chills down her spine.

“You gave me quite the scare, Mr. Potter,” Hermione said once her parents were gone from the room.

“You?” Harry chuckled. “I'm the one who just had their world turned upside down by everything, including Ginny's folly.” Hermione sat up. “What did I say about you being my blanket? Merlin, I thought you listened well.” He tried to pull her back down, but Hermione fought him this time. She wanted to look at his eyes and figure out where the boy she knew went.

Hermione slapped his chest. “Hitting a cripple, how low of you, Ms. Granger.”

“Making light of your problems, Mr. Potter?” Hermione replied. “You could have died.”

“But I didn't.”

“But you could have.”

“But I didn't.” Harry began to sit up. “listen Hermione, after I kick the nurses out of my room, and the doctor, you and I are going to have a long talk okay?” He groaned but slowly pulled himself up. Hermione let go, but didn't move from his side. “A lot has changed as you could tell from my awakening here.”

“I'll say,” Hermione replied. “Like you knowing-”

“Shh...”Harry placed a figure over her lips. She playfully nipped at it for silencing him, and had the decency to blush after wards. “I swear on my Father's life, Hermione, that you will know everything that I know.”

“You're father's dead, Harry.”

“right, well, thats one of the things I'll tell you.” he smirked. “And here come the Nazi Nurses, banish them quickly, before they start doing more inane tests.” Two nurses came in and glared at him and her. Him for his attitude, despite just waking up from his drug induced coma and surgery, and her for lying in bed with a patient.

Hermione's blush deepened and slipped away from Harry, not before he squeezed her closer, hugging her with one arm. “You kept your promise,” he whispered. “And for that I love you.” He let her go and then returned the glare of the nurse. “see I can do it too, now are we going to get these pointless test that tell you exactly how stupid your surgery was?”

Hermione started at Harry as he let her go; he didn't ignore her, rather his eyes kept on drifting to her as he bantered with the nurses, insulting them, the doctors, everyone he could think of for their stupidity. She left the room, unnoticed by the nurses, but the forlorn look on Harry's face told her that he really didn't want her to leave. She just needed to work some things out.

The Harry Hermione knew and loved, yes loved, was not this forward and so...so... hot for the lack of a better word. Lying on him, she felt his chest, and never realized how built he was. Harry was still scrawny and thin, but underneath all those bag robes and cloths was this skinny built man. And his eyes, Hermione got lost in them, now that he wasn't wearing his glasses, the emerald, and they were emerald not just this bright green, there was this sparkle to them that Dumbledore couldn't imitate. The power within them... the chills returned.

A witch could tell a powerful wizard from the rest of wizards. It wasn't necessarily the most important thing in a relationship with a wizard, but she could always tell in the men she was attracted to. It was simply another thing that attracted a witch. And for Hermione, it wasn't that important until now. She never understood what all the fuss was but with Harry so...primal, so powerful, so Harry, she understood now. Hermione knew that Harry was power, not simply powerful like Dumbledore, but power; he was always more powerful than Ron, but now....Now Harry was almost radiating power, and that pull towards him, the attraction she felt before all of this, before his changes.... The animalistic part of her just wanted to...

Hermione sought out her parents, hoping that they were near by. At least she would find some comfort there. She couldn't be with Harry, but she was always a daddy's girl, so talking to her parents might help a bit, especially her mother. Mary Granger seemed to understand her daughter so well that often it was her mother who sought out the only child and helped her. Joe Granger knew more about people than anyone she knew. Maybe between the two of them, they could help her with her emotions. Maybe that was why she held them in, because the two people who could read her, one being her mother, weren't there for her the last two years. The other was seated in the other room, apparently throwing things now at the nurses. Their sixth year he was focused on Ginny and last year he wasn't even around. And now he was the cause of her rampant emotions.

Which she hoped it hide once more. Harry did not need to deal with another fan-girl swooning over the Great Harry Potter, the Chosen One. Now that he returned to the wizarding world, certainly people would send him after Voldemort. He didn't need that kind of trouble that came with a girl friend like her. He didn't need to worry about her. Besides, why would he want to date a little know-it-all like her?

“You finished your tests yet?” Harry shouted from his room. The Grangers were standing next to the nurses station, smirking and laughing between them. “I want to sleep, I want my blanket.” her father burst into laughter, and her mother only hid hers behind her eyes. Hermione's blush deepened further. One of the nurses came running out as a bedpan flew and hit the wall.

“He's a bit of a trouble maker, isn't he?” Mary asked her daughter. She opened her arms and welcomed Hermione into them. She hugged tightly, thankful that her mother was there.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied and took a step back, looking at the door where Harry was hidden behind, curtains hiding him further.

“You wouldn't have it any other way would you?”

“No,” her eyes didn't move, they stayed focused on where Harry should be. Hermione didn't notice the approaching Weasleys, talking with the Doctor. Mr. Weasley had learned enough how and what to say, and now that Hermione refused to speak with anyone, his relationship with the Grangers was tense. The rest of his family present had no relationship with the Grangers. “I wouldn't mum.” She smiled at her parents and watched as the doctor entered the room with the Weasleys, and wished she could be a fly on that way.

“I wouldn't.”

* * * * * *

“I see you are awake,” Dr. Addy said. He was the surgeon who operated on Harry, removing the tissue from his muscle. “Though much earlier than we expected.”

“Well, despite your riveting surgery that you just preformed without my consent, or maybe because of said surgery, I figured that it was more important I stay awake to make sure that we don't have that again.” He paused for a moment waiting for Dr. Addy to reply. “though I must say that your surgery works better than warm milk. Just can't hold my attention like it used to.” Harry smirked. He hated his hospital gown, but was forced into it as it was procedure. First chance he got, he was transfiguring it into something more comfortable, like a hooded sweat shirt or something. A nice long robe. Something to hide his scrawny ass in.

“Yes, well,” Dr. Addy half-smiled, confused. In silence, the man worked, while Harry ignored the look from Mrs. Weasley and how Ginny was inching her way over to him. Harry sat back and watched in his silence, fuming about what he knew was going to happen. Mrs. Weasley would attempt to baby him, and Ginny.... well, Harry really doubted that the girl would survive another attempt like she did before.

For a while no one spoke, though Ginny kept trying to inch her way over to Harry. A firm grip by her mother held the girl away. Despite the obsession each had with him, one a husband the other a son, and Harry hoped that he was right with who was who there because other wise it would be creepy and wrong, definitely wrong.

“Everything seems to be okay. In fact great. After a simple blood work test, we'll be able to know for certain but I believe that potassium and the cytokines are gone from your body.”

“Which is what would have happened if you listened to my orders in the first place.” the doctor ignored him for the moment.

Dr. Addy okayed him and began to speak about physical therapy, and Harry shook his head. “No.” He did not want to deal with this hospital any more than he had to and that was including physical therapy. There would be pain, yes, and there was pills for that, medicine. But his muscles, despite the atrophy would be fine, were stronger than before. He was Harry now, not the Boy-who-Lived.

“What do you mean no?” Harry sat up and pushed the doctor away. Molly made a move, but was stopped, as though by a wall of air. Which was what Harry placed between them.

“I mean that since you doctors can not follow orders, one as simple as “do not touch my leg while I am under that coma”, I do not want to deal with you. Which includes any and all treatment from this point on.” He let his anger at the whole situations throw and snap and spark the air around them. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny could see the magic, while the doctor was left wondering when the air became so static.

“but we were following orders.” Harry acted surprised. The forced premonition told him all of this, but they needed to see Harry learning all of it. Then he could continue on with his plans.

“Whose?” Dr. Addy, the pentacle of being cool. Harry must have scared him because the man was threatening to wet himself as looked at the Weasleys, Ginny still trying to reach Harry, to be next him, and Mrs. Weasley smiling sweetly. Harry nodded.

“We've discussed my not staying here, so leave, there is nothing left to be said,” Harry didn't move his eyes from them, allow Dr. Addy a swift exit from the room.

“Well, so it wasn't against my orders,” Harry said. “Someone decided they knew what's best for me.”

“Harry, dear, we were only looking out for what was best for you.” She wanted to come closer, but he wouldn't let her.

“And you don't think I know what my body wants?” Harry asked. “what it needs? Why? Do you think it is yours?” His glare focused on Ginny's, only to find that it was returned in full and then something extra behind those eyes. Plans can change but this change was not anticipated. Something had happened to Ginny, something that was from a long time ago, before he had met the girl, before the obsession was obvious. For a devil at least.

Harry was still learning to be a devil though.

Ginny was about to reply when Remus showed up, tired and haggard looking, a few scratches here and there on his face. “Harry!?” His new god-father, friend and confident next to Hermione, was terrified for what had happened to Harry. “Dear Merlin, you're alright.” he rushed over, pushing Ginny aside and hugged him tightly. “When Tonks finally let me out, we came over as quick as we could and-”

“Breathing helps,” Harry replied, but returned the hug deeply. “Now, everyone leave, while Moony and his missus and I talk.” There was no room for debate or questioning in his voice. “That especially means you, Ginevra. Out now, or we'll see who is the stronger one.” His eyes flashed, the room darkened slightly. His skin slowly began to crawl, bugs from within, stretching outward, reaching with his power. Each a bastion of magic and raw ether, yearning to burrow from within and strike out.

It was a change over; he first felt it when he burst through the wards he placed around him to keep him asleep until his body was ready. His power was surging, growing and thrashing as waves along a cliff. A storm was held in his arms, the bugs he felt the trickling of that power edging outward and stretching to the world around him. “Begone demon!” he uttered, not shouted not whispered, only a breathe escaped and so did the words he did not know he said. Remus jumped back and looked at Ginny, whose appearance had not changed .

The little witch slithered away, out the door and Harry's sight for a moment.

“now,” Harry smirked and relaxed. No more bugs and no more anger threatening to destroy the room. “that company is much more pleasant, we can talk.”

“Harry, I....” Remus knew. The old werewolf knew about the demon and devil, and the difference, the ever important difference. If anyone of the Marauders knew about Harry and his family's secret, it would Remus. Tonks stood back, confused, worried about Harry as she would a little brother.

“How much do you know?” he asked.

“I researched it after your father came of age in his sixth year.” Harry nodded, which made sense given that the only thing that delayed Harry's transformation was his accident and subsequent coma. “That is when everything changed: between him and your mother, him and us. That was when James understood his role and purpose in life. The time to be a rule breaker was over for him.” Remus shrugged. “I figure you know a lot about it.”

“I met my father, and we discussed many things, including our Father,” Harry replied. “Now, enough of depressing matters. Its time I get out of here, we start planning our victory party, and possibly get slushed, and I make passionate wild hot love to Hermione for a week straight.” Remus paused at that, while Tonks snorted. “What?” Harry looked as though it was the werewolf who had spoken rather than him. He glanced at the metamorph, who was threatening to burst into laughter. “Wait did I say that out loud?”

“Yes you did,” Tonks began to laugh at the poor teen, Remus just stood there, shocked he had said anything like that. Harry at least had the decency to blush, “Are those your plans, Harry?”

“I meant to say sleep,” he replied, “but that is just as dirty isn't it?” Tonks laughed harder and came over to hug Harry. The old werewolf took a seat next to Harry and picked up the remote, while the metamorph took one on the old werewolf.

“You're okay, thats all that matters.”

“I'm allowed to be a randy teen thank you very much.” It wasn't often that Harry got himself caught in a bind, well, really.

“I don't know if it was what you said versus who it was about.” Harry shrugged; it wasn't something he was worried about. As long as Hermione didn't hear about it, he should be fine, even then, he seriously doubted that there would be much of -

Harry's back arched as pain echoed throughout his body. The potassium and cytokines were still in his system, along with the drugs that knocked him out, and his leg ached, and his body was fighting off the morphine. He was able to mask all of them, ignore them, simply because he wanted to be awake. He needed to be awake, and now this-this-this was ruining everything. Something was wrong, another was trying to invade and control his mind. How it got by his careful systems of protection, he'll never know, but for the moment, Harry was in trouble. Voldemort would be unable to even step close to him right now, figuratively speaking of course. No, the attack was coming from within. Remus stood up quickly, with Tonks frozen in place and falling to floor. The werewolf rushed to the door. “No!” Harry gasped. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, work lungs work damn it.

“Harry, I can't just-”

He took another breath of air, willing his body to work again. His pulse was slowly dying and his magic was allowing it. He wouldn't. “I said no!” He needed to fix his body himself, the doctor's medicine would do nothing but hindering his work. Harry took another breathe, taking the energy from the world around him. His mind shut off and instinct took over. Something was wrong and he had no idea what it was. The lights dimmed the machines hissed, and the room got colder. Another breathe.

Work damn it.

Work!

He was a half-devil of the first order, rivaling the dukes themselves. Mephistophiles and Baalzebul wouldn't hold against him. Even his half-sister would tremble beneath his power. And that was solely fiendish, not including his Library powers. He would make his body work right, despite all its problems.

Even if it killed him.

Another breathe, and the room grew much colder. Harry could focus again, and with instinct driving, he pulled the rest of the energy in. The room went dark, machines turned off, and ice formed on the windows. Remus shivered as the temperature continued to drop. He opened the door and stepped out to escape, Tonks right on his heels. Both peeled off in different directions, looking for someone to help him. Harry did not notice.

Twisting the angles, drawing in the power from the reality itself, Harry fought what was plaguing him. He couldn't sense it before, but now, with his breathe threatening to leave him he finally felt the danger, the poison in his body, trying to destroy his mind and his heart. A devil was immune to most poison, but poisons came in so many flavors that it was often hard to judge what was a poison and what was just tasty.

But a love potion was a poison of the mind, and Harry's mind skills were lacking in most parts. Voldemort was one thing, but a potion, something internal... Harry was screwed. Even with his devilish transformation, he was still having trouble with his thoughts and knew that for the most part was exposed to all things psychic. Rather, Harry was in charge of his body though. He was human and devil, and with intimate knowledge of his body's machinas now, he could force the potion out. It would just hurt.

How it was placed in his body he had no idea. Harry could handle most of the problems left over from the surgery and the induced coma. Hell the drugs were still in his system, he was lucky to mask them when the doctor came and visited . Now he was fighting all of it. He stopped breathing again, and couldn't focus on his lungs. The potion/poison needed to be removed from his system or else something bad would happen.

Like the hospital blowing up. No biggie.

With one final breath in, Harry drew in all the power from the hospital for a single moment. The lights flickered and the temperature dropped dangerous low in the room. Ice was forming on all the surfaces, a deadly blue hue. His skin was pale, icicles were hanging from his nose and his hair. He was glowing dark purple, as the aura slowly picked out all the particles that remained of the love potion. A pink gas flowed from Harry's skin, spiraling around above him as he expelled the potion. The process hurt. It hurt a lot. Normally a potion digested is expelled in the same manner which all things digested are. Waste is waste. But for the potion to be removed through his pores, removing every trace from his blood system through the smallest holes of his body, hurt.

If he could breathe he would have screamed. For now, Harry dealt with it by screaming anyways, just silently.

The potion flowed out of his body, expelling all the poisoning of his mind and the rest of the potassium and cytokines in his body. He couldn't remove the drugs, his energy draining. His leg hurt, his chest hurt, his heart hurt. Harry simply hurt. Worse than before, but he was no stranger to pain. His bones felt like they were breaking and his skin was being flayed. This was the first second, the second one got interesting. And then he blacked out.

Bloody hell, he just awoke from the darkness.

Damn that telephone too.

* * * * * *

Hermione was eating with her parents in the cafeteria, her mind was focused on Harry four stories above them. She wanted to be with him, talk to him, protect him. No one was able to protect Harry like she could. Conversation did not interest her and food did not either, and her parents were silent at the moment, finally letting her think in peace.

Something had happened in that room, something powerful. The walls of reality were bent for a moment as the energy bleed into their world. Hermione read a few books before she left Hogwarts for the final time about the Library, as the leading theory behind it was an alternative reality. Sometimes, when the realities over lap, the perception of reality alters to compensate for the change in realities. Often when something was entering the current reality. Granted this was what one of the books said, since none of them could agree on anything about the idea of alternative realities. Most books argued that there was no such thing and that the Library was just a polite euphemism for Hell, which said something about the metaphor for knowledge and logic.

To her, the Library was the home of what was known about everything. Every book in existence, along with everything thought and everything that will be thought. The Library was knowledge. Which lead to the idea that those who were corrupted by the power of knowledge were the demons, not necessarily that the Library was the home of these people, but rather their origin for their greed. The power lied in what was known. The old saying “knowledge is power” proved true with the Library, especially from what Luna was saying about its purpose to record all events and knowledge.

Her salad tasted bland and the drink was luke-warm, nothing was right. The room seemed duller and the sounds deafened a bit. Everything she touched felt slightly off, Hermione couldn't explain it. Even her cloths felt uncomfortable, and she choose them specifically because they were. Hermione just wanted to be with Harry. He promised her answers.

Hermione liked answers.

Which always lead to questions like why the hospital suddenly became really, really cold all of the sudden and lights flickered on and off. Hermione shivered and looked around, everyone's breathe hung in the air as though winter had come five months early. For the temperature to drop from twenty two degrees, thank you air conditioning, to freezing, something had to be drawing a great deal of heat, or more importantly energy. Probably why the lights flickered. But what could have that ability to-

Remus came running into the cafeteria, shivering worse than the rest of the room. He must have been close to the...the...source. “Hermione, there you are, thank Merlin I found you.”

She stood up and looked at the exhausted werewolf. “Its Harry, isn't it?” The older man nodded.

“Something's happening to him, I don't know-”

“Harry drew in a great deal of power, how or for why I don't know.” Hermione said before looking at the ceiling. “He's in pain; I have to help him.” the worried look quickly turned into a glare. “if that bint lays so much as a hand on him...” Hermione ran out of the room, needing to see Harry, to be with him.

She ignored the elevator, running for the stairs. Her first step on them and she was standing outside Harry's door. Doctors were there, along with nurses, who were trying to warm up his body. No Weasley's, for which she was thankful for. Whatever the temperature was outside of that room, probably around ten degrees Celsius, she could have sworn that it was way below that in Harry's room. The windows were open, and the sunlight was melting ice that had formed around the room. Harry was pale, deathly pale. None of the machines made any noise, but Hermione figured that was from lack of power in the room. The three nurses and two doctors were around him, debating about transferring him from the bed to a gurney, where she could only assume that he was being taken to a room with power.

But the worst of it was the two doctors giving his heart CPR. He was breathing, she could see his breathe in the frigid air, but his heart wasn't working. And Hermione felt the magic in the air, all from his breathe. He must have willed his magic to keep breathing, but forgot about his heart. “Miss, we need you to leave.” Hermione ignored the nurse and walked over to the wall. Harry was fine for the moment. He was alive. Right now, her mind was focused on something extremely odd.

The burn mark on the wall in the shape of a person.

Hermione pushed past the nurse and walked to the wall, her hand out. She was afraid to touch, the magic was stronger than what Harry was releasing in his breathe. Probably because it is so concentrated. Her finger tips grazed the image, and she gasped, pulling her hand back quickly. She felt a shock throughout her body, but also, love. Concentrated obsessive love. Towards.... Hermione touched it again, forcing herself to ignore the tingling and focus on that love. How this was all working, she had no idea. There was no contact love potion, thank Merlin. It had to be digested and travel through the blood stream. Closing her eyes, moving through the love, her palm on the image's chest, Hermione focused further, biting her lip in thought. Then she found the smell.

She pulled her hand back. Blood was in the air, burned into the image, taking all of the love potion with it. Harry was poisoned and did what he knew best, made magic work for himself. He twisted the laws of time and space and magic to remove what was hindering him, preventing him from being Harry. A love potion is a poison of the mind, and Harry's defenses, magical and none, were horrid. The boy could not lie to save his life, especially to her. He wore his emotions on his sleeve with a bright neon light telling the world.

“Miss, you need to leave the room now.” the nurse repeated. But Hermione ignored her.

The two doctors were still doing CPR, while the nurses were warming him up. They were waiting for his heart to start up before moving him to a gurney. Hermione walked back all of them, moved the doctor away from Harry's mouth, leaned down next to his ear. Her hand petted his sweaty hair and whispered as sweetly as she could. “now, Harry, you know better than sleeping like this. Its time to wake up.”

Harry sat straight up, taking in deep breathes. He threw a doctor off of him and pushed the nurses away. Hermione smiled and walked around to the side of his bed. Power had finally come back on and the room was warming up slowly. All the machines registered him awake and well. She placed a hand on his chest, his bare muscled...chest...

Hermione swallowed and shook her head. She had felt his body before when he demanded that she be his blanket. But this, this was something else. This was Harry 2.0, the new version of Harry, who had power unlike anything that walked the earth before, and was smoking hot. Hermione didn't even notice Harry's hand on her until his other caressed her cheek gently. She found herself leaning into it. “My blanket has returned.” he said softly, smiling the entire time. Eyes blood shot, filled with care and something she didn't recognized, his pale skin sweaty and warm, and that Potter smirk that never changed.

Harry turned his attention to the doctors. “See what happens when you let things happen the way they should. Now that we found out how useless you all are, we can get my release papers, I can leave with my blanket, and everyone is happy” Harry waved his hand, the bed went back into its proper position, the burnt image on the wall disappeared, and the temperature returned to normal. Which of course lead to the machines around him exploding in sparks. “Now leave. You can hook me up to new gizmos after I have eaten and talked to my blanket.” he waved his hand again, as a king would dismiss his vassals and the doctors and nurses quickly left, none of them understanding what had just occurred but accepting it completely.

Hermione smiled as she watched them all leave. Turning to Harry, she said, “These aren't the droids you're looking for.” He gave her a confused look, not quite understanding what she was talking about. “We'll watch the movie later, then you'll understand what you just did.” Harry nodded and closed his eyes. She felt his weariness and tiredness. Whatever he just did used a great deal of energy. He was shivering and whatever warmth he was giving off before was gone.

“I wish I could give you all the answers you want Hermione, but I-” Harry started but Hermione placed a finger over his lips. And then climbed into bed with him.

“answers later, what ever you did to your drained all of your energy Harry. You need sleep, honest to Merlin sleep, not the coma, not the unconsciousness you seem to be so fond of.” she snuggled into his chest, and his breathing steadied. The shivering stopped as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “And if you call me your blanket one more time, I'm hexing you Mr. Potter.” Hermione looked up at him, yawning and nodding his response, ignoring her glare.

Hermione felt his breathe steading out, until his chest rose and fell in a pattern a metronome would be proud of. His heart beat lulled her into sleep, as she wrapped her arms around his chest, her leg intertwined with his. Ginny be damned, Harry was hers.

The past few days have left Hermione's mind on overdrive, thinking about her friendship with Ron, with Harry, and her life in general. Ron was a great boyfriend, but only for a while. After they became more intimate, everything went down hill, that was all the relationship was about to him. Not being held and talking to someone when your down. But it was Ron, her crush for years right? Only all those emotions, that 'love' she felt for the boy she knew disappeared after that one night, though they were together for almost two months afterwards. They ended things after Harry was finally found, here at the hospital. And now, she was thinking about the boy-who-was-her-pillow.

Harry was a confidant for the longest time, a person she could talk to, and the person who would come to her if he had a problem. But sixth year changed everything, with the Prince book and Ginny... Hermione snarled, and Harry pulled her closer, his hand on her back, running in small circles. He was asleep, she knew that much, the smile on his face gave it away, and even now he was comforting her. Everything changed when she saw him again. Ginny had taken Harry away, apparently on purpose compared to what she once thought.

The image burned into the wall, the intense feelings of love and obsession, Harry expelled a love potion through his skin. Hermione didn't know how he was able to do it, but apparently, it took a great deal of energy, given that he stole almost all the heat of the building and the electronics around him. And the image that came to her mind when she touched the wall was Ginny. Normally, a love potion does not create love, it creates an infatuation, and allows the chance for love. The problem lies in overdosing. The love portion of the potion comes from the constant and ever increasing dosage of the potion until the physiological and psychological aspects of love are duplicated by the body. But like a drug, the body is addicted and without it, severe hatred and anger come through the withdrawal stages.

The amount of love and obsession that she felt though, Hermione was worried. The dosage must have been exponentially increased, and at that level, if she was dosed, she would be in love with the girl, despite having firm groundings in her own sexuality. She would have to guess somewhere around 64 times to 256 times the normal dosage which is around a teaspoon at a ratio of one part to five hundred. How Harry fought it amazed her, and only added more questions to her list.

But right now, sleep was calling for her and Harry pulled her so close that Hermione really wished there weren't cloths between them. Damn priority sake's, she smiled as she snuggled into Harry's chest for the sleep she desperately needed.

Mary smiled to herself when they finally arrived at Harry's room. He was sleeping again, with Hermione in his arms, and she knew both were smiling. Her daughter had been all out of sorts the past couple days and now with Harry safe, relatively speaking, she was almost herself again.

Almost, because the daughter that Mary knew was not open enough, nor foolish enough, to climb into the bed of a boy while her parents were right there for future blackmail. Though she doubted that Hermione cared that her parents were any where near the two of them at the moment. The two of them clung to each other as though they were the only ones in the world, an anchor to each other.

“everything okay, honey,” Joseph asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. Mary tended to worry about things, but Joseph was always calm and collect, understanding that everything happens in its time. And here, their only daughter was lying in bed with a boy whom she talked about for over six years of her life, who was her life for those six years, who brought out the woman in the girl and was the reason the girl was no longer a sole, lonely bookworm.

“it couldn't be better.” She smiled and leaned back into her husband. Her daughter was happy, with a boy who would almost be good enough for her, despite all the oddness that surrounded him. She wished that this moment would last forever, but knew that ideal wishes and dreams would rarely come true.

Like now.

“Is Harry okay!?” Ginny came running up, in hysterics, trying to make her way to Harry's room. Thank the Lord and his servants that the blinds were closed, otherwise Ginny probably would have become even more hysterical. Mr. Weasley was fascinated by all the Muggle activities, but he followed his wife and daughter nevertheless.

“he's fine, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley grabbed hold of her daughter as she was rushing towards the door. The woman feared for his daughter, and as did Mary, but for two different reasons. She feared for Ginny from the display of power that occurred in the hospital. A elderly witch must know what has occurred, especially when she was a mother. Harry's wild magic had disrupted the hospital, she had heard the various doctors rushing around, trying to help the patients whose life support diminished as the power failure for that single moment. Mary on the other hand, feared that Ginny would do something incredibly stupid, like try to harm Hermione or Harry. Harry was powerful yes, and since it was looking like he was, for the lack of a better term, claiming Hermione, any harm that would come to her he would respond in full force to protect and avenge. Hermione on the other, had taken it upon herself to be Harry's protector. Saving the world and he couldn't save himself, so that left Hermione with the job of ensuring Harry's safety and health. “He's probably just sleeping right now.” A pleading look at the Grangers begging to help was almost enough for Mary to keep quiet. The matriarch of the Weasley clan angered many people, and help should not be given freely to those who do not deserve it.

“Yes he is,” Hermione replied, walking out of Harry's room, stretching. She looked like she had woken up from a long sleep, her hair bushier than normal, standing on ends, and her cloths rumpled. If it weren't for the fact that Mary knew better, she'd say that Hermione was caught red-handed snogging. “I'd prefer he'd stay that way. The past few days have been really tough on him and sleep is the best thing for Harry right now.”

Remus and Tonks were talking off to the side, quietly and shooting looks at Hermione and Ginny. Remus was smirking, while Tonks looked as though she was about to bolt from the room. The sheer difference was enough to make Mary pause. Did Remus know something odd about Harry, something that was truly dangerous? Then again, Tonks slowly smiled and still looked like she wanted to bolt from the room, probably to return with a camera. The smile on Remus' face never left as he was talking with Tonks. Something was going on, that much was certain.

“What were you doing in there, young lady?” Mrs. Weasley asked, shocked and bewildered. Her eyes moved back and forth between Mary and her daughter, questioning both of them. “That is not-”

“The behavior you would expect a girl and her friend?” Hermione finished. Mary didn't know what to say, but the hand on her waist calmed her down, waiting for the explanation. “Harry has been through a lot these past few days, two surgerys, a medical coma, heart failure from potion overdose, along with-”

Tonks stepped forward, the Auror taking charge. “A potion overdose?” Hermione nodded. “How do you know?” Ginny was glaring at Mary's daughter now, making her question what exactly the redhead's role was in the situation.

“I felt the effects.” The confusion must have been evident on everyone's faces. “Harry expelled all of the love potion from his body. I don't know how, but I do know that the ratio had to be extraordinarily high, enough to make me attracted to a girl...” Hermione mumbled something and trailed off, blushing as she looked back to Harry's room. Hermione once talked about love potions, how it can not really make love but build on the current relationship that existed, so infatuation turned into lust, destroy inhibition. It takes a controlled mind to prevent love potions from truly controlling a person. If the potion was in a large enough ratio, then it could potentially make a man homosexual, a woman lesbian, building off of friendship. It could even turn a brother or sister into a lover, but at level the potion would have stopped the heart and destroyed the brain. If something like that had occurred to Harry... “No, he burned the substance out through his skin. I don't know how he did, but he did. Through every pore in his body, the blood and the potion was burnt out.”

“How can you know that happened?” Tonks asked, ever the investigator.

“A potion leaves the body like any other liquid. But Harry had to bend what his body could do and then bend the laws of physics along with biological and magical laws in order to do what he did. Hence the power surge. His room was empty of any heat and all the electrical equipment was completely dead. His heart stopped while was using magic to force his lungs to work. There was this image on the wall, burnt into the paint. You could taste the blood in the air and when I touched the image I felt that overwhelming love and lust.”

Hermione shivered and hugged herself, wrapping in the warmth and the emotions she was holding back. Mary knew her daughter well enough to see that behind the terrified facade lied a lioness protecting what was hers. Often that lioness would never show, a being of power and desire and emotion and life that never reared its head in fear of reprisal, but now, maybe Hermione had found something to stand up for, if she couldn't stand for herself.

Tonks walked up to her daughter and they talked in hushed tones, words for just them. Whether it was magical and Tonks was taking her role as an Auror seriously right now, or the comfort of a friend, Mary did not know. Hermione looked at her mother, eyes watery, begging for the arms of her friend to be wrapped around her, for that friend to be standing up and with her, giving her the strength to be herself. Her eyes glistened, and she blinked and that cover was gone. Mary glided over to her daughter and hugged her tightly. The world was falling apart around them.

Terrorists were attacking governments and public works around the world, with focuses in the English Isles. Not all of them were connected with Voldemort, Mary figured this much out, but that did not deny there was a great evil within the world at the moment, an evil spreading across the lands and inflicting everyone it touched. Murder, rape, theft, hatred and fear bleed through the air and nothing was stopping it. The world had gone mad.

And they were left alone.

Everyone in this room, The Grangers, Remus and Tonks, and the three Weasleys.... well two, where did Ginny go?

* * * * * *

Harry was trying to sleep, trying to follow Hermione's orders, he really was, but something was off in the room. His body itched, little creatures running thousand of furry legs over his arms and legs. He didn't want to open his eyes, because Hermione wasn't there, but he needed to: something was wrong and required to be fixed.

He opened one eye, then the other. Ginny sat next to him, leaning over him. Merlin did she look sick. Gaunt and circles beneath her eyes, her once beautiful red hair in clumps and ragged brunt color, no longer vibrant and alive, this was not the Ginny Harry knew. But he held his tongue and waited.

“I guess you know now,” she said, her voice tired and sick. She wouldn't lock eyes with Harry, hers downcast, his shifting in and out of focus.

Harry was silent.

“I knew you were meant to be mine when I first saw you, at the train station, all alone and scared, like me. I knew you were meant to be mine when ours eyes meet and you greeted me, treated me like a person not a sister. I knew you were meant to be mine when we first kissed, and I tasted you. Heaven. Something I've never had before.”

The drugs in his system peaked: morphine and whatever else was used in his coma cocktail. He fought back his smile, there was no joy right now. Finally Ginny looked up at him, and Harry, but a stroke of luck, focused just enough to see her eyes before she turned away. For a moment, a single moment, Harry understood: he finally understood just what Ginny was.

Devils make pacts for their own advantage, giving but mostly taking. Demons on the other hand just take, and here Ginny was taken and never returned, at least as she was. Probably since the Chamber of Secrets incident. Which mean she was searching for what was taken. In this case, innocence, and in turn, love. Hence the potions and the overwhelming lust and desire. This was not the Ginny whom Harry knew, that Ginny had died along with the Harry from before. He had no idea what grew from the ashes of Ginny's demise though.

He took a deep breathe, and the sedation in his system changed into panic and nausea. Harry was tired, exhausted with no energy left to do anything. He wanted to puke, his breathe shorted again, his heart slowly down, softening. This was not the same as before, this was acceptance of loss and the inability to do anything. He wanted to be mad, but could he? Could he be mad at Ginny when this beast was in control.

“You were mine Harry, and you will be again.” Well that answered his question.

“You won't try to save me, Ginny.” He replied, his voice tired and weak. “you just want to hurt me, or leave me desperate.” He started to sit up and ignored the look of dissonance.

She reached from but he pulled away. “But I bet you laugh at the thought of me thinking for myself, that you know best.” Ginny didn't move, her eyes glared at him, glazed and heavy. “I bet you believe that I'm better off with you than someone else.”

“Because you are Harry, there is no one else for you or me. We are meant to be together.” She was pleading, begging to be with him, her life depended on it. But did it? Who was in control? The beast's desire to live or the girl and her obsession?

“I am no one's property.”

“but you will be.” She looked up at him again, and the evil that burned within, the fiendish desire and lust for power and control glistened behind screaming eyes. Everyone has their addictions, Ginny just found hers early. Control was important to the youngest Weasley, as she had nothing she really could control, why not a potential boyfriend, because that makes perfect sense. Harry saw the potion, the vial, in her hand, she kept on shifting back on forth.

Her face arrives again, a hope he had became surreal, but under her cover was more torture than pleasure, and just past her lips more anger than laughter, not now or forever could he ever change her. It was time to move on, break his habit.

“this potion is the only version of the love potion that works through contact, Harry,” he didn't move. He didn't think he could move at the moment. “I've had it since Snape left, stolen from him, I didn't think a dead man needed it.”

Harry shifted again, trying to sit up to press the call button. Ginny noticed and pushed him back down. His body fell like a limp doll. He had no energy, not even access to what ever demonic powers he had, even if he had any. He couldn't figure out whether or not she killed Snape or how she had the chance to, or even if this conversation was occurring, which was probably the morphine kicking in.

“One drop would make you mine, but only for a little bit, contact isn't enough, which is why I injected it into your... your... whatever that stuff is.” She pointed at his blood dripping down slowly into him, and Harry tries not to look terrified. The slowness and everything that he's been feeling, thats the potion.

“You taught my heart ... a sense I never knew... ... I had, and I can't forget... the time... I was lost and ... depressed ... from the awful truth.... And I thank you for it.” he couldn't stop the potion. He didn't know how to counteract it, all the variants and everything. And even if he did, he didn't think that it would work. He couldn't do what he did before. Energy takes time to acquire and charge up, it requires sleep, something Harry was greatly lacking. So Harry did the one thing he knew how to do well: stop his heart.

-->

7. Chapter 7: A Brand New Day

Chapter 7: Brand New Day

Its a brand new day

And the sun is high,

all the birds are singing

that you're gonna die

how I hesitated

now I wonder why

its a brand new day

Dr. Horrible, Its a Brand New Day

I can remember the day my life ended but I did not die.

I can also remember the day I died, but my life continued on.

I don't remember much that occurred after that point, or between or even before.

I can still see Hermione rushing in through the door, throwing Ginny off of my body, and cradling me in her arms. Her tears mingled in my hair. I can feel them still on my head, I have scars that you can see if you look in the right light at the right time, almost a crown that dripped blood down my face. I wake up some nights, after remember the thoughts I can't remember and wipe my face, trying to remove the tears I didn't cry.

I don't remember much between me waking up for the their time, just Hermione sitting in my lap as Mr. Granger pushed us out of the hospital, Mrs. Weasley chasing us out the door, begging for us to forgive Ginny. I couldn't, all i could hear was Hermione's heart beat in my ears, my face held so close to her chest, for a moment, the closeness of her beating heart gave me strength and power that I had never know before. My heart in beat with hers. To feel your soulmate so close and stand in that presence is enough to orgasm the first time if you are unaware.

Hermione learned this, but just giggled her little giggled which I never knew she had and kissed me deeply. Which apparently gave her one.

She blushed as I wandlessly and wordlessly cleaned up our respective messes, her face buried in my neck... I can still feel her breath on me even now. Its my cloak, a wisp of what was, the breathe of life extingiushed.

When we walked out, a storm came, raining all around us. Pounding the ground, covering use as a torrent of blue and clear, darkness swarming in the distance, lightning dancing across the sky above the buildings. I never even heard the first shot, a bullet. I was prepared for everything except for something so mundane. I had shield layered over shield through pure power to protect Hermione and myself, and those we cared about. I was willing to be reading the thoughts of everyone within a hundred miles, searching for anyone who sought to do us harm, but Hermione talked me out of it, saying that such an overload would kill me.

She was always the smart one.

Why'd she have to die first?

The shot came from over a mile away, and shattered parts of buildings in between us. Everyone slowed down, and I felt the air bend for the bullet. Even with time moving slowly as my reaction was, I didn't see the bullet. Magically transformed and mimicking the surroundings, my unrefined abilities were blind to the object. And Hermione knew it. Which is why she shifted to straddling my lap.

She coughed up blood and I knew she was dying. The sounds of apparition roared around us, the rain pouring down heavily, and all I could do was hold Hermione, begging her to be alright.

But everything wasn't. I was a devil of the highest order, almost dead because of some possession by a lowly demon-soul of a dead man refusing to die. Hermione, my equal more so than Voldemort, who was more my foil, merlin damned prophecies, was dead because someone desired me dead, more than Voldemort. I can't remember who, mainly because of my actions that followed.

Everything is a blur. Hermione was in my arms, dying, and all I could do was whisper my love to her, beg her not to. Remus was transforming before our eyes, and Tonks was drawing her wand, but neither was able to move, from what I was able to figure out later. A torrent of silver were unleashed. From where I sat, two shots were fired before Mr. Granger died. Three from Mrs. Granger. The Weasleys... I do not remember them. Everyone around me died, and there I sat immobile with my love in my arms, her blood on my skin.

I still am stained, my arms, slightly whiter than the rest of my tan self, almost pure in comparison to my sins.

I remember silence, then a bright blood light. London died that day, at least half was destroyed in what Muggles would call “an explosion worse than Hiroshima”. A crater was left, and the bodies were gone, of my enemies, of my friends, of my love. Only I remained in my chair, holding nothing. My column was still there until the day I died, the chair fused into the ground, granite and concrete, no metal any more. No rubber, no body in it.

I was still alive, my heart was beating, but I wasn't really aware of what was happening. I was dead. The dead have no memory of time. So the months, maybe years that followed me stalking Voldemort down could have never happened or they could have been many life times.

An unstoppable force tried to destroy an immovable object. Problem was, Voldemort was a puppet, and I was seeking the puppeteer. Took two weeks of torture in lava, me healing and burning him before he would talk, I think. Maybe I refused to listen until the two weeks had past. And I doubt talk would be appropriate, more like, I stole all his memories and his core. For a while, my smile was a scar.

Many nights it still is.

I don't remember my end, I just remember waking up, sitting on this throne and nine devils prostrate in front of me, a staff in hand and horizon before me. Red lightning on a orange sky, with heaven no where near me.

I don't remember my beginning. I remember walking and talking, I remember stealing the knowledge of one man and trading the rest for passage. I remember a bright light and gates that stretch farther then the orange sky and red lightning. Behind the clouds behind the light behind everything there lied a mountain and I remember climbing it, and falling and climbing it. There was no boulders to push, only walls with no edges to climb, no where to walk to the top, no stairs or ropes, just my hands tearing into the mountain of the sky.

I don't remember my nights, because I never slept.

I remember my first real morning, when the sun finally rose again, as I jumped off the summit of the mountain of the sky, deals struck and words exchanged. Me to where I belonged.

Its a brand new day.

Maybe I'll be able to live this time.

* * * * * *

Authors Note: So I come to the end of this mini-epic, and thus start the end of my fanfiction career. I have planned out for the most part, the final tale of Harry Potter, son of the First Devil and Librarian. Prior to the launching of the sequel to this story, or rather, the story of this prologue, I will be attempting to edit my story and give proper due to all those who have helped me with it, along with varios problems and ideas that I have been working on. I will probably still have plot holes, but in truth, this is a journey more than anything. So thank you and please enjoy what is to come. I can not guarantee that this will be in the final draft of the epic, but the ideas will carry over:

“Harry you can't.” Click. All noise, all movement stopped around them and eyes moved to the Boy-Who-Lived. “This isn't right, you shouldn't-”

“why shouldn't I?” Harry replied. “After everything he's done to us, why shouldn't it?” Below him, the quivering form shook as Harry pulled the trigger on his revolver, a gift from Sirius. No sound came as the hammer fell. Sighed and pulled the hammer back again. “Where is it!?” He demanded. Click. The barrel shifted closer.

“please Harry, we can't-”

Bang! Harry shifted the barrel just enough to graze the nose of the boy before him. The smell of a poorly washed urinal filled the air. “I have one more bullet. Two chambers. What is your luck? I didn't miss, that is your warning.” He pulled the hammer back and waited. “Where is it. Tell us or die horribly painful.”

“fine, fine its... its...” he was mutter and Harry leaned over to listen. Once the information was given, he stepped back and fired. The bullet left the chamber silently and the man would have plead for his life if he could, but there was no time. The body fell and blood did not fly through the air, covering anyone it. A orb around the man and blood floated within it.

“Harry you didn't have to-”

“Of course he did Ron,” Harry walked away, back up the stairs to his room to sleep. “Harsh times call for a harsh master. And Harry is the master of his fate now.” She left and ran after him, hoping that he would accept her arms to cry in rather then simply the bed they shared.

-->