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Harry Potter and the Demon's Soul by Hotaru
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Harry Potter and the Demon's Soul

Hotaru

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the 'Harry Potter' universe, nor of the lyric bits reproduced here.

A/N: Postings will be slowing down a bit from here on. I apparently am left without betas again. Once I get my literary problems back on track, I'll be pushing them out again. As you know from previous chapters, Harry is in a coma at St. Mungo's. This starts as another one of his 'visions.' These 'visions' may seem confusing, but they're an important part of the story, and it'll be made clearer a bit later. The very astute among you have already figured out what these 'visions' are, and have a good idea what they mean and what's causing them. If you have NO idea what's causing them, you will by the end of this chapter, and you're probably going to hate me for it!

I notice that nobody's paying attention to the lyrics I'm putting up… Are they too obscure? Chapter one was 'Plowed' by the band Sponge. I mean I've quoted Oleander, Metallica, Missing Persons and others… Should I forget about them? In case you're wondering about the lyrics below, they're from 'Breakdown' by the band Tantric. Am I too much of a 'rocker' for your tastes? Come on, people, I may be old, but I'm not dead yet!

Anyway… on with the show!

Chapter 7: The Awakening

-----~-----

In your life, you seem to have it all,
you seem to have control,
but deep within your soul
you're losing it.


You never took the time.
Assume that you're to blame.
You think that you're insane.
Won't you spare me?

-----~-----

Harry was walking. He was casually strolling through a vast field of multi-colored flowers. There was no sound. There was no wind. Small clouds of vapor escaped his mouth and nostrils with every breath he took. It was very cold. Even though the sun had been out all day, the temperature hadn't changed at all from the night before, and it was just as cold the previous day.

He couldn't quite remember when he started walking. He couldn't remember where he was walking from, or where he was walking to. He scanned the horizon before him. He couldn't see any hills or mountains in the distance, the landscape was perfectly flat. He briefly glanced behind him, and found the view pretty much the same. He could see the path of disturbed flora behind him, marking the perfectly straight path that he had traveled directly in line with the setting sun.

'I seem to be traveling east…'

Harry was walking. He could still see the field of flowers, even though the sun had set long ago. He glanced at the cloudless sky as he walked. There was no moon, no stars… just blackness. The sky slowly turned from a flat black to a velvety purple. The sun peeked over the horizon to his right.

'I must be traveling north…'

He glanced behind him and saw that the path of bent and crushed flowers he had made through the vegetation still led in a perfectly straight line. The thought that he appeared to be traveling in different directions, even though he hadn't remembered turning at any time, didn't seem to trouble him. All he knew was that he had to keep walking. He couldn't stop.

He was tired. He could feel the fatigue in his legs. He felt the heaviness of his eyelids, but he kept walking. Something he couldn't quite hear kept telling him he had to keep walking. A presence in his mind kept urging him forward.

He had been walking for days. How many days, he couldn't count. He couldn't recall the last time he stopped, if he ever did. He knew he needed sleep, but he honestly couldn't remember when the last time he slept was… he couldn't remember if he had ever slept, as silly as that notion sounded. Sleep almost felt like a foreign notion to him. Every time he considered stopping to lay down amongst the flowers to rest, a desperate, almost pleading voice pushed him along.

Something was urging him to keep walking, telling him that resting was a very bad thing, as if sleeping would be fatal to him. As he pondered the idea of resting, Harry noticed the sun setting to his right.

'Strange, I must be traveling south.'

As he walked, he noticed that the strange voice that had been continually prodding him on was getting fainter, increasingly more difficult to hear and understand until the voice died completely. He suddenly felt as if he lost some kind of a vital protection and became very aware of a darkness creeping towards him from behind.

He looked over his shoulder and saw that his wake of disturbed flowers was still in a perfectly straight line trailing off into the distance behind him. It was then that he noticed a brooding darkness in the distant sky. Clouds of black and grey, moving impossibly fast towards him from the horizon. Brilliant red lightning flashed down from the clouds leaving large, dark circles of blackened earth and burnt flowers around the smoking craters where it had struck the ground.

With his eyes fixed on the maelstrom that was quickly overtaking him, he started running blindly, vainly trying to stay ahead of the wall of 'rain' that he knew would eventually catch up with him. The wind suddenly kicked up from behind him, almost knocking him forward off his feet. The clouds boiled angrily as they raced towards him, and a moment later, the darkness swept past him and panic set in as the 'rain' started. He felt the large heavy drops pelting his back and head as he ran. He watched as the pretty pink, red and blue flowers that were all around him were slowly turning red by the thick, glutinous rain that was showering down over them. He pushed his sodden bangs out of his eyes, which widened in horror as he realized that the rain was actually blood. He stopped suddenly and watched the thick, crimson liquid dripping from his hands. He then noticed through his stained, outstretched fingers a lone gravestone about twenty meters in front of him. Somehow, he knew to whom that grave belonged, but he needed to see the name for himself.

Just as he stepped forward towards the headstone, a bolt of lightning struck the grave, the force of which knocked him back to the ground. He unsteadily got to his feet and staggered to the rim of the crater where the headstone had just stood. He looked down into the crater and saw the shattered, smoldering coffin lying at the bottom., It's splintered lid had been blown off and laid in fragments along the inside of the crater.

He saw the lifeless young girl lying in the casket. He saw her pallid, gaunt face and brown curly hair. He fell to his knees on the charred, blood-soaked earth and put his face in his dripping hands.

"Hermione…"

A peal of rolling thunder sounded out from the blackened sky above him that sounded suspiciously like menacing, gleeful laughter. He pulled his bloodied hands from his face and looked up at the dark, swirling clouds where he briefly caught a glimpse of red, snake-like eyes leering down at him.

Far ahead of him, he noticed a tiny, golden-white sphere of light emerging from the horizon. The sphere quickly brightened and expanded, much like an explosion, and engulfed the entire sky, almost instantly driving the storm back beyond the skyline behind him. The intensity of the golden light forced his eyes to close. The light faded as quickly as it had appeared. A gentle, whispering breeze that carried with it the scent cinnamon drifted across his face, leaving within him a peaceful sensation, as if he were resting in a comfortable bed, or wrapped in someone's warm embrace… or… or both?

He heard a soft, familiar voice whispering in his ear, "Please wake up… Oh please, Harry, don't leave me… I need you… Please, just wake up…"

With great difficulty, Harry pried one of his eyes open and found himself sitting up in a bed being gently rocked by a sobbing and trembling Hermione. He glanced around the unfamiliar room through the mass of her golden brown hair and saw at the foot of his bed Ron, Tonks and a someone he didn't recognize, a person who appeared to be wearing the green robes of a St. Mungo's healer. All three were staring at him with their mouths open, although it was hard to tell their exact expressions without his glasses.

"I feel like hell…" was all Harry managed to murmur through his dry, cracked lips. Hermione momentarily tightened her embrace before she pulled back to look at his face.

He gave her a weak smile and said "Hi." He heard Hermione let out a soft sob as she once again pulled him into a crushing hug, only to be pried away from him a moment later by the healer.

"Out! Out! We need to examine him!" said the mediwitch as she ushered the 'visitors' from the room. Within minutes, Harry's room was filled to capacity with healers and assistants, who were casting diagnostic charms and analyzing his magical aura while poking and prodding every inch of him with their wands. A short, portly healer entered the room followed by a floating chart and quill. He sat down after conjuring a chair next to Harry's bed and noisily cleared his throat.

"Do you understand what I am saying?" asked the healer as the quill scratched across the parchment on the chart.

Harry was lying back on his pillow, trying to clear the blanket of fog in his mind that was making it difficult for him to think. Barely opening his eyes, He briefly glanced at the healer and nodded slightly.

"I'm Healer Aubrey, I know this is difficult, so just do the best you can. Can you tell me your name?"

"Harry Potter." He managed to croak out.

The healer smiled, "Good, good…" Noticing his discomfort, the healer conjured a cloth and a bowl of water on the bedside table. He dipped the cloth into the water and carefully placed the sodden end into Harry's mouth to alleviate the dryness, "and do you know where you are?"

Harry simply nodded, knowing that he was obviously in St. Mungo's hospital.

"Good, now can you tell me where the last place you remember being?"

Harry was having a very hard time putting his thoughts in order. His body felt weak and exhausted, his limbs felt as though they were made of lead and there was a steady, painful throbbing in the scar on his forehead. He remembered most of the trip on the Hogwarts Express, although it seemed to him that he slept most of the way. He could remember the dressing down by Hermione at the King's Cross Station, the visit to Surrey and the empty Dursley house, and the meal at the Leaky Cauldron with the auror, Benjamin Bones.

"The Leaky Cauldron," he said weakly, "I was in my room there."

The quill was busy scratching out notes, while the healer looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to continue. After a few moments, when he saw that Harry had nothing more to add, he asked, "You don't recall leaving the Leaky Cauldron?"

Harry suddenly remembered his ill-fated trip to Gringott's Wizarding Bank. He opened one eye and glanced again at the healer, "I only left there to briefly visit Gringott's. I went back to the room and didn't leave again after that."

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, thinking about his empty vault. He leaned deeper into his pillow and asked, "Can you tell me what happened to me?"

"We were hoping you could tell us…" The healer went into the story of how he was found in Hyde Park by the muggle police and was taken to a muggle hospital, where he was in a coma for almost three weeks before being 'rescued' and brought to St. Mungo's.

"Three weeks?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, and you've been here at St. Mungo's for an additional two weeks…"

Harry's eyes were fully open for the first time since he awoke, "What's today's date?"

"July Nineteenth." Replied the healer while tipping a potion bottle into Harry's mouth. "Now, this is a dreamless sleep potion. I know you've been out for a while, but it was hardly restful. You still need peaceful slumber. We'll talk again in the morning."

Moments later Harry fell asleep as the gang of healers continued to poke, prod and examine him.

In the hallway outside of Harry's room, Ron and Hermione sat on a bench while Tonks stood by the door carefully scrutinizing each of the healers that passed through the doorway.

"Whatever possessed you two to go barging into the room like that? I was about to stun ya both! I should have stunned ya both!" Tonks was pacing the corridor as she chastised them while still keeping a close eye on the excited healers buzzing through the doorway.

Ron was sitting with a blank expression, still trying to absorb what happened in the room. Hermione didn't say anything, she just gave Tonks an indignant glare before lowering her head with a tired sigh. She was lifting one of her heels off the floor and nervously bouncing her leg as she sat nibbling a fingernail.

"And what in Merlin's name were you thinking, casting a patronus at Harry? That much magical energy could have killed him in his condition, and since when could you cast a Golden Patronus? I've only seen three wizards cast them before, and that…"

"Excuse me," Said Healer Aubrey as he emerged from Harry's room, "could I have a word with you, Miss Granger?"

Both Ron and Hermione leapt from the bench, "How is he? Is he OK?"

"We gave him a sleeping draught, so he'll be out until tomorrow morning. As far as we can tell, it looks like he'll be ok. We're going to keep him for a few days, though. We need to find out what's wrong with him, and now that he's out of immediate danger we can hopefully determine the cause of his condition."

Both Hermione and Ron visibly relaxed. Hermione hugged Ron and buried her face in his chest, "He's going to be OK…," she whispered to his shirt.

"Miss Granger, Healer Willoughby said that you brought Mr. Potter out of the coma with a Patronus Charm. Nearly everyone is aware of your reputation, and I certainly don't mean to disparage you, but I would like to know how you determined that a Patronus Charm would work, I mean it's never been used medicinally before..."

Hermione did some very quick thinking. She didn't really want to say that she was told by a ten-year-old Half-Demon to send her 'otter' to the 'stag,' nor did she think that lying about from where the information came was a very wise idea, either.

She pulled herself away from Ron's chest and faced the healer, "What does it matter? It worked. Let's just say I was told from a competent source to try it," and deciding to turn the table a bit, she continued with a discernable edge to her voice, "It's not as if all these dodgy 'specialists' you've been importing have done him any good."

Healer Aubrey was slightly affronted and after recovering, he opened his mouth to retort when Hermione spun around, took Ron's hand and pulled him towards the lifts.

"Let's go back to the tea room, Ronald, I'm famished."

Ron looked back at the speechless auror and healer and gave them a sympathetic shrug before allowing Hermione to drag him away. A slight smile came to him as he realized that this was the first time in over a month that Hermione actually expressed any desire at all for food, and that he was feeling a bit peckish himself.

They were once again seated in the same booth that they vacated less than an hour before with a fresh sandwich in front of each of them. Ron let out a small smile as he watched Hermione roughly tear off a bite. She quickly chewed, swallowed, sent him a patronizing smirk, gulped down a sip of pumpkin juice, and then ripped off another bite. Ron had yet to touch his own sandwich, being too busy watching her ravenously devour her meal.

"Hermione, how did you know a patronus would work? What happened in Kotone's room?"

Hermione was about to take another bite of her sandwich, but upon hearing his question, she sighed and lowered it back to the plate.

"Miss Melanie wasn't joking when she said that people are afraid of Kotone. When I first saw her, she had the mask on so that the lower half of her face was covered. Honestly, I thought she looked rather beautiful, but when I saw what was under the mask, the fangs and horns…" Hermione visibly shuddered at the memory, "Well, let's just say that I have no doubts now that she really is a half-demon."

"Fangs?" asked Ron, "Like a vampire?"

"No they were thicker than that, and much longer, more like an ogre's fangs. Anyway, when I spoke to her, she told me that she was protecting Harry, but she called him 'the lion' and 'the stag.' She sounded so weak when she said that the stag needed 'the otter,' specifically my otter. After she told me to hurry, she passed out. I just assumed that she meant my patronus, after comparing Harry to the stag and me to the otter. That's when I ran out to get you and to go to Harry."

"You mean that you just took her word for it?"

"Back at King's Cross Station, Harry said that she told him that she was protecting him, and I think he believed her. He said he had a kind of connection with her, but he didn't elaborate any further."

Ron looked thoughtful, "Anyway, I'm just glad it worked. You did scare the hell out of us when you drew your wand, you know."

"It's strange, that she called me the otter, and she also called me the eagle. I understood the otter part, my patronus, but why would she call me his eagle?

"His eagle?" asked Ron, with his eyebrows raised. Kotone's word 'his' didn't escape his attention.

Hermione shrugged and picked up her sandwich, "'His eagle' is what she said, along with Harry being the stag and the lion.

"Do you think she could tell what animagus forms people would be?"

Hermione shrugged again, "Maybe she was referring to the school houses, maybe she thinks I'm in Ravenclaw, or should be." She quickly stuffed the rest of the sandwich half into her mouth and picked up the second half, hoping that it would give Ron the impression that she wasn't interested in continuing that topic of conversation any longer, remembering what Kotone said about her being his eagle, the 'mate' of the lion.

A sullen look came across Ron's face. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. "Why do you suppose he called out your name when, well, you know…" he asked through a mouthful of bread and tuna.

Without taking her eyes from her sandwich, she casually sipped her pumpkin juice then said in a calm, matter-of-fact manner, "Because he's in love with me, Ronald, you know that. I've been shagging him for ages."

Hermione quickly discovered that teasing Ron like that was a bad idea when she found herself covered with the bits of tuna and bread that had sprayed from his mouth.

"WHAT?" Ron practically screamed, causing a pair of medi-witches sitting nearby to start in alarm.

"Honestly, Ronald, how am I supposed to know why he called my name?" she shot back with a frown, sounding slightly annoyed as she brushed the food from her blouse.

Ron tried to compose himself, but looked like he was unconvinced that she was merely taking the mickey out of him, "Well, your father said that he called your name out before when he was in that muggle place, too."

"I see, so you think he is in love with me?" asked Hermione, clearly getting more annoyed by the minute.

"Of course not! That's mental to think that Harry would fancy…"

Hermione stood and tossed the remainder of her pumpkin juice into Ron's face. "Oh? So there's no way Harry could fancy anyone as ugly as me, is that what you think?"

A look of dismay appeared on Ron's dripping face as he realized what was implied by what he said. "No, I didn't mean that! I… I meant… I…"

"Don't bother, Ronald. You're right, there's no way anyone could love a dreadfully plain and boring witch like me!" Hermione stormed across the tearoom and disappeared through the door, leaving pair of stunned medi-witches and a stuttering Ron sitting alone in the booth.

-----~-----

Ginny was sitting at the writing desk in her room on the second story of the Burrow. She had made sure that she placed locking and silencing charms on her doors and windows. She tapped her wand on the wooden panel that spanned the upper tier of the desk and muttered quietly, 'dissimulo.' A small, secret door sprung open revealing a hidden compartment containing a page that another student had given to her two years before. The page was torn from a book that was banned from the Hogwarts library, a book that she didn't know the title of, nor did she care. The page contained the recipe for a perfume, a very special perfume, one that held the promise to make her fondest dream come true. The dream that was spectacularly realized up until the end of the last school term, at which time things began to go horribly wrong. She was almost ready to believe that the misfortunes that were befalling her life were due to her own ambitions, were caused by the very thing that brought her dream to life.

She withdrew the paper from the small, concealed compartment and carefully unrolled it and spread it out onto the blotter on the desk. She carefully scanned both sides of the page, going over every step in her mind, to convince herself that she hadn't made an error.

Distraho Careo Diligo Venenum

Elixir of Love's Distraction

Ingredients:

1. 10 Firefly Abdomen (dried; finely ground)

2. 50 ml Marigold Root Extract, fresh

3. 1 gm. Marrow from the Bone of an Eagle Owl Wing, fresh

4. 3 gm. Irish Emyr Horn, Dried, Powdered

5. 15 ml Fruit Bat Blood, fresh

6. 16 ml Oil of the Black Rose, Concentrated

7. 5 ml Rylalah Urine

8. 3 Hair of Object, > 5 cm in Length

9. 3 Hair of Subject, > 5 cm in Length

Hermione's hair was easy enough, as she had slept in the same room as her on numerous occasions. A few strands extracted from her hairbrush was all it took. Harry's was a bit trickier. She had to check the bathroom every time he used it, eventually collecting the black strands from the shower drain. After all, who else at the Burrow had black hair?

Combine items 1 through 5 into a standard pewter caldron, type 1, grade C+.

Heat until rolling boil; stir CCW 30x immediately after boil. Allow to boil for at least 60 hours, stirring CCW 30x every three hours.

Remove heat, add items 6 and 7, continue stirring CCW 5x, CW 5x for 16 Hours, 21 Minutes, 30 seconds (Time must be accurate)

Return mixture to boil within 20 seconds.

Add item 8, stir CW 10x, CCW 1x

Add item 9, stir CCW 10x, CW 1x

Reduce heat to simmer - minimum of 50 hours.

Remove heat, introduce mixture to crystal bottles and seal with standard wax. Allow 5 weeks to cure before use.

Ginny was positive that she used the correct ingredients in the proper amounts. She turned the page over and continued to read to see if the effects turned out differently from the ones stated.

Effects:

Subject- will begin to feel animosity towards Object within 30 days of exposure, and at the same time acquire a certain degree of awareness for the wearer. Feelings of abandonment from the object will take hold after 120 days. After 200 days, object should be totally disregarded by the subject while attention should be being paid to the wearer to the point of distraction.

Object- will begin to feel jealousy of subject within 40 days of exposure. After 100 days, object should begin to actively avoid, if not be repulsed by the subject. After 150 days, the object should be actively seeking to sever all relations with the subject. There should be no discernable reaction between the object and the wearer.

Wearer- should see an increased level of attentiveness from the subject within 40 days. Effects should remain constant from day 40 to day 300, after which the effect will slowly, but steadily increase to the point where the subject's true feelings are converted to the wearer's advantage.

A detailed Arithmantic formula followed the effects list. Ginny had no idea what the formula meant or how to read it, Arithmancy wasn't one of the subjects she studied. It was considered by all to be a 'Ravenclaw' subject.

At the bottom of the page read,

Application:

1 drop behind each ear, 1 drop center of throat, 3 drops on chest, triangular pattern, over heart.

The full effects should be realized within 400 days. After the initial exposure, the re-application of the elixir should…

"Be performed as often as required." Ginny said to herself. The page ended, but she could tell what it would say. She read through the formula one more time. She was absolutely sure the ingredients were correct. Four hundred days had indeed passed weeks ago, the elixir worked exactly as promised by Penni Pinder, the seventh-year Hufflepuff that had given her the page almost two years before. She remembered how she spent many sleepless nights brewing that elixir, following the instructions to the letter. It was a difficult potion to make, but she put her mind at ease knowing that she brewed the elixir correctly. She was now sure that the reason it stopped working was because of Harry's illness and not from her ineptitude at potion-making. She had top marks in her year in potions, she was confident in the ingredients and her abilities.

The last time she used a dose was in the carriage from the castle to Hogsmeade Station. She thought he got a whiff when she tried to hug him before getting on the train. She knew it made him angry, he stiffened uncomfortably and refused to meet her eyes. She was upset at the time when he just stared off into the distance. She ran into the train crying and when she looked out at him through a window, he hadn't even bothered to glance back at where she ran to. She surprised herself, and embarrassed herself by breaking down like that, she didn't even cry when he broke up with her just hours before. She tried to talk to him again in the train. He still wouldn't even look at her, never mind talk to her.

'Why did it stop working?'

She reached into the back of the cubbyhole and withdrew the nearly empty vial of elixir. She had gone through most of it in the past year. Brewing more of it may be a problem, it took almost all of the money she had squirreled away to buy the ingredients for the first batch. She had to wait for the right moment to use the remainder of the elixir. She knew Harry loved her, he just needed a nudge in the right direction, or more specifically, a nudge away from the wrong direction. She couldn't afford to lose Harry. Not after she held on to hope for so long. Not after she had worked so hard to get what she wanted. She would not lose him now. She would not lose Harry to her. Ginny loved her like a sister, but losing the man she's loved for years to that 'plain Jane' would be more humiliation than she could bear.

Ginny heard rushed footsteps ascending the stairs outside of her door. She hastily stuffed the vial and page back into the secret compartment, sealed it, and then removed the wards on the door. A moment later, her excited mother burst into the room.

"Tonks just flooed from St. Mungo's, Harry just woke up! He's still very ill, and the healers put him to sleep for the night, but we'll be able to visit him tomorrow if he's feeling up to it."

Ginny jumped from her seat and rushed into her mother's arms, with tears of relief leaking from both their eyes.

-----~-----

In the garden that lay just behind the house, a garden gnome was dangling from a branch of a bush, his curled toes just barely brushing the ground as he tried to free the juicy strawberry that was tenaciously clinging to the branch. Suddenly, a furiously scampering rodent that was racing through the garden and away from the house crashed into him, knocking him to the ground. With a flash of silver, the gnome felt a quick stinging pain across his throat, and then knew no more.

The rat glanced around, as if to make sure it wasn't spotted by any of the residents of the house, and then clambered over the gnome's lifeless body to continue its frantic dash out of the garden through the hedge, across the field and into the shadows of the woods.

-----~-----

A/N: Ok, now you know that our sweet little redhead has been up to something, and our favorite bloke with the red eyes has been monitoring the situation. Now's your chance to let me know how much you disapprove of me treating Harry and Hermione so wretchedly by leaving a review!