Awakening of the Snake

Zaid Zaid 9 133 2003-04-08T17:04:00Z 2003-04-20T06:42:00Z 3 2393 10774 205 39 13135 9.2720

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. We all bow down to her. I own nothing.

Author’s Note: First fic ever…just had an idea on a year five story and it wouldn’t let up till I wrote the damn thing down. So please read and comment. Have fun. All feedback will be considered and will most definitely be helping with the writing. I’ll be adding more comments at the end. Well, here goes….

Rating: R [vulgarity I guess and some innuendo I tend to add]

Chapter One

“Fuck”

Harry slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the lack of light in his room. His head buzzed and he wondered why his vision was so blurry. He shook off his stupor and realized sheepishly it was because he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He sat up, reached for them and tried aimlessly to forget the memory of his latest dream.

Both of us … we’ll take it at the same time. It’s still a Hogwarts victory. We’ll tie for it

Oh God! He remembered. The tournament. Cedric. Hogwarts’ champion. Sharing victory. So stupid. To think I wanted to share glory. All I shared was death. All he gave out was a curse. His curse. His fault. Always his fault. To think that he was free of Voldemort. How stupid. How naïve. Never. Never again. Never let my guard down again. Poor Cedric. Dead. All gone. And all he did was follow Potter. Poor fool.

Yeah, we’ve helped each other out haven’t we? We both got here. Let’s just take it together.

Yup. Let’s follow Potter. Let’s follow Potter till the ends of the earth. He’ll lead us. Lead us straight to our deaths. "Wands out, d'you reckon?" Didn’t do any good did it? Couldn’t save him could he? What was the point of being a savior if he didn’t save anything. Some wizard! Didn’t do nothing. All I did was stand there like a git and just him die. What was the point of being Harry Potter if he couldn’t save one boy.

Kill the spare.

Spare he called him. Just a spare. Wasn’t supposed to be there then. Wasn’t to be with me. Wasn’t suppose to die! Yet he did. All because of him. So many dead because of him. How many more to come? How many more to die? Led to their demise by the Boy Who Lived himself. I should have helped him . . . saved him. I should have done . . . something!

Cedric’s face, at his open gray eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half open mouth which looked slightly surprised.

A flash of green light, a rushing sound, and the boy crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor. Avada Kevadra. Two words. Yet so potent. So powerful. Such instruments of power. Such instruments of darkness. Two words strong enough to snuff out the future of a bright young boy. Avada Kevadra. Strong enough to kill off the hopes of Cedric’s parents. Oh how proud his father was when Cedric beat Potter. Bet the Diggorys’ despise me now. They should. Let their son die, didn’t I. Avada Kevadra. Strong enough to extinguish the love of Cho’s life. Ha! And here I thought I was falling for her. Can’t have her now, can I? Don’t deserve her. Don’t deserve anyone.

Harry…take my body back will you? Take my body back to my parents.

I have the duty, because there isn’t anybody else, now is there? People are out there suffering, defending themselves against Voldemort. Fighting, searching, and praying for the boy who is supposed to lead them to victory. Dying. And I sit here safe in this house under cover all summer. I . . . I owe them . . . something. Owe it to them to fight. Owe it to Cedric. Have to defeat the Dark Lord. Rid of him once and for all. He’s gunning for me too. For revenge. One of us has to die, and I mean it to be him.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat, tears flowing freely for the loss of a fellow student. His heart ached with Cedric’s death. He still felt responsible. No matter what any of the Professors at Hogwarts said, he realized that he would always blame himself. Realizing that crying wasn’t the best thing for the moment, Harry got up. He was clad in only his sweat pants, he’d found himself rather comfortable sleeping shirtless ever since a heat wave passed by Privet Drive. He glanced around the room, trying to regain his bearings. It was only a couple of hours till sunrise, and moonlight was shining brightly through the window, highlighting Harry as he slowly made his way to the bathroom to wash his face

~*~

“Harry, Hurry up!!! I’ve gotta pee…I’m gonna call mom!!”

Dudley’s annoying shriek broke Harry’s concentration, his gaze fixed on the image of his scar in the mirror. The mark ached often since his return from school, especially after his nightmares. He splashed some water on his face and yelled for Dudley to give him a minute more. He studied himself in the mirror, taking in the image of his whole body this time. Finally got some meat on your bones, haven’t you. Might have to do something about this shock of hair. Can’t have it all long and shaggy, gets into my eyes. I like how it covers up the scar nicely though. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Harry ran his palm across his chin. Hmm. I think I’m getting some facial hair! Gotta tell Ron ‘bout this.

He brushed past Dudley on his way back to his room and ignored the pudgy boy’s glare. Since his time back, Harry and his cousin sort of had an arrangement. They both stopped harassing each other and Harry promised not to slip any of Fred and George’s trick candy into his food or try anything, you know, ‘freakish’. Theirs was definitely not a relationship based on trust. He chuckled inwardly, remembering the effects of the twin’s Ton Tongue Toffee had on Dudley and the look of absolute fright on the pudgy boy. Note to self: Never accept anything from Fred and George. I wonder what other creations they’ve managed to invent over the summer. I think a certain ’investor’ might be privy to the right to some batches. He had to hand it to them; they always had something up their sleeves.

He went round his room silently, retrieving his clothes. Harry slipped on some sweats and put on his trainers. They fit pretty well considering they were originally Dudley’s. Of course that could also be due to the fact that his cousin had last wore them four years ago. The trainers were a surprise though. Aunt Petunia had seen it necessary that he at least wore proper footwear if he was to be out running with her Duddleykins. In one of the most bizarre experiences of his life, Uncle Vernon had dragged Harry to the mall, after making sure he at least looked presentable and threatened him not to do any ‘magic’, and bought him a pair of trainers. I’d never thought I’d see the day Vernon Dursley spend his own hard-earned…well his own money anyway, on Harry Potter himself.

He slowly poked his head round the hallway. He definitely didn’t want to meet up with any of his relatives this early. They always seem extra cranky in the morning, especially this early. Dudley had gone back to his room, now snugly sleeping again. Satisfied no one was awake to bother him, he made his way outside quietly.

He had actually been forced to start running every morning due to incessant pestering by his aunt to accompany Dudley during his notorious diet period. Harry was always amused when she brought up Dudley’s weight. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say Dudley had at least gained a good twenty pounds more. Dudley had long since stopped the dieting and exercise but Harry decided it would be helpful to keep himself fit. He had to be prepared mentally and physically for the future. He spent a few minutes stretching then started off on his jog.

~*~

He liked running. He liked the way the cold, harsh air brushed past his face, keeping him awake, alert. He especially liked running before sunrise, under the moonlight. Privet Drive seemed a whole different place. The neighborhood seemed to take on magical properties, bringing to life childish fantasies. It seemed easy to picture the homes in different realities. Instead of housing a snobbish, rich couple, the Streator house was a magnificent castle, where royalty ruled fairly and huge parties were held. The abandoned house in the corner was a haunted house, full of ghouls and zombies. One could easily imagine a host of different stories each home held.

Even though Harry had actually seen ghosts and experienced events which would practically blow a Muggle’s mind, he still was awed by every magical act. One had to remember Harry had been separated from the wizarding world for the first eleven years of his life, believing himself to be an unfortunate orphan. It seemed to Harry that magic would always astound him.

He paced himself well. During the first few days of his training regime, he found himself having to stop for a breather before he was even half way through his route. He also had to figure out that stretching was a must if he was to avoid cramps. He slowed down to a jog, coming to a complete halt when he reached the nearby park. While he went through his regular exercises, he mulled over his life.

There was only a month left before his fifth year at Hogwarts began. Fifth year, huh. He had lived through a myriad of experiences both wonderful and dreadful. He had discovered a whole new world, where Harry Potter wasn’t just an annoyance that had to stay in the closet under the stairs, but instead he was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. A world where the scar on his forehead was revered. He had discovered a world that accepted him, where he had friends. Wonder what they’re doing now. Ron’s probably experimenting with Fred and George on new mischievous treats. Knowing Hermione, she’s likely going through her Potions essay for the tenth time. Harry stifled a chuckle. He was definitely saddened when he found out that Dumbledore had refused permission for Harry to visit The Burrow during the summer. He also suspected that the Headmaster had something to do with the lack of letters he had received since school ended. He probably wanted to protect me from harm. He didn’t have to keep me in the dark though.

Suddenly a wave of dizziness hit him. Knees turning to water, he stumbled. A shimmering face he could barely make out flashed in his mind. Voldemort? With an effort, he caught himself, forced his legs straight. And the whirling sensation vanished. He took deep breaths, calming himself. His scar throbbed, almost burning to the touch. He worriedly glanced around, searching for any signs of a stranger or an attacker. Wha..what happened? Voldemort, he reminded himself. A vision of the Dark Lord himself. Brilliant way to start your birthday Harry. Hopefully it was just a one off thing. Shaking off the effects of the attack, he slumped down onto one of the numerous benches nearby. He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands, breathing slowly, trying to rid himself of the uneasiness that had settled in him. Well, Happy 15^th Birthday. Another painful reminder of my life. He suddenly realized that sitting alone in the middle of a park wasn’t exactly safe, especially since he had left his wand in his room. He gradually stood up and set off back home.

He blanked out any thoughts of the vision and redoubled his concentration on his running. It was more meditation to him then exercise. He cleared his mind, only taking notice of his surroundings, the beat of his feet on the pavement, his measured breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Sometimes Harry imagined that everything in the world would right itself while he was running. That when he returned home, he’d see his parents settling down in front of the table instead of the Dursleys. But currently, his main motivation for running was to numb the pains of reality. Harry hoped all he could do was just run. Harry hoped he could just run away from it all.

~*~

A/N: Well that was the first chapter. Hope you like it. It’s pretty short. Doesn’t really delve into anything, I know, but I felt I had to at least post my attempt at the discomfort of Cedric’s death. I spent quite a lot of time trying to type the first scene out, trying to include the emotion but still not go over board with clichés. God knows how many fics I’ve skipped out on reading because of bad starts. *crosses fingers* I couldn’t bear to write an abusive Vernon as the subject makes me really uncomfortable. Sorry. Besides it kinda overdone and I don’t really think I can add to it.

Just as a warning for readers, the fic will most probably be leaning towards a Harry/Hermione ship. I wanted to pair up Harry and the only person who I feel could remotely have a relationship with him was Hermione. But realistically, I think JKR would write R/Hr and leave Harry single. In my opinion, Ginny needs a lot of work [can someone remind me if she had any part involving Harry in GoF/PA]. Any thoughts/ideas on her will be greatly appreciated. Be warned though, I will stretch out the UST a lot. Its really more action/drama then romance.

Some story ideas aren’t mine and I will give credit and point them out if I knew where they came from. Such as the Harry’s summer isolation and in oncoming chapters, the Voldie recuperating and needing more potion cos I cant have him up and about just yet.

BTW Harry and Co. might get quite mouthy with swear words. I know it’s not like that in the books but at least let me have this one pleasure. Its mostly just british slang and stuff.

I’d appreciate if people with feedback email em to me so I can answer qns/comments. All feedback is wanted and cherished. Thank you and God Bless.

Zaid Zaid 5 11 2003-04-21T18:52:00Z 2003-04-21T19:05:00Z 3 2025 8913 222 71 14179 9.2720

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. We all bow down to her. I own nothing.

Author’s Note: Second chapter. Its more of a second part of the first chapter. Read and Review.

Rating: R [vulgarity I guess and some innuendo I tend to add]

Chapter Two

Breakfast at the Dursleys’ today was as usual as it could possibly be. Aunt Petunia was still adamant in enforcing a diet on Dudley, who was able to wriggle his way out of her persuasions due to his incessant whining. He even had backing from Uncle Vernon who did not want a continuation of the horrid meals she had prepared for the whole family last summer. Harry observed the events in the house as an outsider. Even after living together for over a decade, he still could not call it home. To him, home was a place where one was safe, where one was accepted. To him, home was Hogwarts.

So it seemed rather out of the blue when Uncle Vernon directed his attention to Harry.

“So Harry, are you going to you friend’s,” he sneered on the word, “house again this summer?”

Harry was able to hide his shock of being addressed long enough to answer, “No, not at all. They’re kinda busy and I think Hermione is still in Bulgaria.” He definitely did not want his uncle finding out about his isolation due to the events in the previous school year.

“Aw, the freak got abandoned by his own friends.” Dudley sneered at him across the table.

Harry was used to Dudley’s jeering and set out to ignoring him. He simply closed himself off from his piercing words and kept his mind empty. He had rediscovered this method to clear his mind and enjoy the empty calm that flowed through him. He found it useful when he wanted to concentrate on a task without any distractions.

Today however, the empty calm had given off a different effect.

Harry was suddenly assaulted by bright flashes all around him. He bolted from his chair, quickly glancing around, wary of a Death Eater attack. He could see…weaves…of some sort. They covered the entire room, in many different patterns, in bright colours. Merlin, it’s bright in here. He studied his breakfast, thinking it might have been poisoned. His observations were cut short by Vernon’s shout, telling him to cut his freakish behaviour out. The weaves were gone now. His eyes still were uncomfortable due to the intensity of the light. Harry turned his attention to his relatives, who were looking at him alarmingly, afraid of him performing anything freak-worthy. He hurriedly apologized for his actions, giving an excuse he had seen a bee. They took it at face value, and Dudley sniggered at Harry’s fear for the insect.

Harry finished his breakfast and carried out his daily chores, worried about the sudden chain of events as Vernon left for work and Dudley retreated to the den to watch some telly.

~*~

The scene at The Burrow was hectic over the summer.

Fred and George had locked themselves in their room, only coming out to shower or get their meals. The only hint of what exactly they were doing were the number of owls that flew to and from their window, mostly sending out for important ingredients. The household also became accustomed to the frequent loud explosions that occurred. The whole family was curious on what the twins were working on but the whole operation was clouded in secrecy, as they refused to entertain any questions.

There was also the added tension between the family and Percy. After the events the past year, Percy had been appointed to Barty Crouch’s former position. He had then proceeded to be bossier then usual, and often ended up arguing with the rest off the family over Harry’s explanation of the what had led to Cedric’s death during the Tournament and the apparent rebirth of Voldemort. Percy simply refused to accept that the Dark Lord had returned and reasoned out that Harry was just hallucinating. He firmly stuck to his belief that enthusiastic rebel wizards that still supported You Know Who had attacked Harry in a vain attempt to raise terror and instability and that Voldemort was still gone. Thus, his relationship with the other family members was very strained due to their contrasting beliefs.

Ginny and Molly were stuck cleaning up after the Weasley males. The only two females had been bonding for the whole summer, strengthening their relationship. Molly was delighted by Ginny’s maturity. Ginny, for her part, had opened up to her mother on the events that took place during her first year that led to the Chamber of Secrets. This resulted in many tears, hugs and promises not to withhold any problems in the future. Ginny also had to reassure Molly that she would remain in contact by letters throughout the school year.

All of this left Ron for the most part alone with his thoughts.

Quidditch. Ron’s main thought in his head was about how he could get the open position of Keeper in the Gryffindor team due to Oliver Wood’s graduation. He was hoping on the twins and Harry to put in a good word for him. He also noticed the lack of activity on the Dark Lord’s front. There had been no sightings of You-Know-Who and newspaper reports had only printed small stories on minor, infrequent Death Eater attacks, claiming them only acts of foolishness. Cornelius Fudge had held a press conference stating that the Ministry was investigating Harry Potter’s involvement in Cedric Diggory’s death. He had squashed any rumors of You-Know-Who’s uprising. It was evident that Fudge was hoping to use Harry as a distraction, and make him take the blame.

Ron also thought about his best friends. Hermione had gone off to Bulgaria to visit Krum. He was very unhappy of Hermione’s choice to travel and had made known his displeasure in his letters, only to receive a Howler from her telling…no…shouting at him to mind his own bloody business. That incident had sent the whole household into bouts of giggles. He read Hermione’s latest letter from Bulgaria, informing him she was returning home after a wonderful holiday and that she was going to Diagon Alley next week. He made a note to tell his parents so that they could meet up to purchase their school supplies together.

The last piece of news was that Hermione had been made a prefect. Ron groaned at the prospect that she would be ordering everyone about even more then before, with the new responsibility. He was also displeased that when he had discovered that he had not been appointed as a Prefect. He knew though that the other Gryffindor prefect was most definitely Harry Potter. First, House Seeker. Then, Hogwarts’ Champion. Now, Prefect too. Ron felt jealous that Harry always claimed glory, and wished that he could at least get some glory of his own.

~*~

Hermione crashed onto her bed, exhausted after the tiring flight home.

“Just leave the bags there, Dad. I’ll unpack them later.”

She had just returned from Bulgaria, after the weeklong holiday with Viktor Krum. She had thought it a great educational opportunity to gain new experiences and learn about different cultures. However, in retrospect, she should have taken Ron’s advice and stayed home. In her opinion, the whole trip was disappointing. She had fallen out with Krum. She had found out that Viktor Krum, in his natural habitat, was every bit the typical celebrity. He tended to misuse his fame to get what he wanted and seemed very unfriendly to his fans that followed him. He acted cold and looked down on them. Hermione was also uncomfortable with his closeness. It seemed to her that all he wanted to do was snog and parade her to the masses as his, expecting her to treat it as though it was an honour to be with him. The atmosphere in his house was also hostile. It seemed his parents disliked Muggle-borns and set out to convince Viktor that she was not good enough for him.

But the final nail in the coffin was when he mistreated his house elf. Before, she had simply disguised her discomfort to be perceived as a grateful guest. However she had lost her head when she saw how he laughed at the plight of the help, amused as they kept beating their heads on the floor. She had then proceeded to ‘rip him a new one’ and ceremoniously decided to cut the trip short and return home as soon as possible.

She could just see Ron looking smugly at her, saying ‘I told you so’. At least she had another week before that encounter. She then decided to ask in her next letter if she could stay at The Burrow for the last week of summer. She always liked the loving family environment of the Weasleys and it would serve as a nice relaxing time before the rigours of school. There was just something special about big families that appealed to her. She wondered if Dumbledore would allow Harry to come over to Ron’s. She had not received any letters from the Boy Who Lived and was certain that he had been isolated by the Headmaster for safety against attacks. She was still unhappy that they could not have celebrated his birthday today together. She doubted that those horrid relatives of his had even remembered it. Sometimes, she was amazed at how a quiet, gentle boy had grown up amid the craziness that was the Dursleys.

Hermione’s thoughts then turned to the latest Hogwarts’ letter she had received. She was very proud that she had been appointed a prefect. The letter had also mentioned all the other students who were chosen as prefects. Unsurprisingly to her, Harry’s name was on that list as the other Gryffindor choice. The only damper was Draco Malfoy succeeding in obtaining a Prefect’s badge. Hermione was already envisioning how the blonde-haired boy would abuse his powers for his own pleasure and how much it would infuriate Ron that he had been elected.

Ron. Now there’s a jealous prat. Hermione still could not believe that Ron had accused Harry of chasing after glory in the tournament. After all they had been through, it was simply far-fetched to consider Harry an advocate of fame and it irked her that Ron did not trust his best friend. She was also deeply displeased in the manner in which both boys had acted in the weeks leading up to the Yule’s Ball. Imagine leaving me as a backup! I don’t think they view me as a girl at all! That had been one of the major reasons she had accepted Viktor’s proposal for the ball. He was the only one who had figured out she was mildly attractive.

Harry. I hope he’s okay. Hermione worried about her best friend. She wondered how he was handling the events that occurred during the third task. She still was unsure what had transpired after the duo had grabbed the trophy, but was certain that whatever had happened would surely surpass what her imagination would come up with. He’s had such a rough year. First, with the Goblet. Then the tasks. Not to mention the horrendous news articles. Hermione blushed, remembering the rumours that had been passed around about their so-called coupling. None of that. I don’t ‘like’ Harry that way. Besides he’s already got enough on his plate without any more issues bothering him. Especially after Cedric’s death. She was sure that the murder weighed heavily on Harry. He always seemed to hold himself responsible for such incidents, acting unknowingly as a martyr. Knowing that there wasn’t anything else she could do,Hermione silently prayed for Harry and his safety.

~*~

A/N: Not my best work. Its more of a chapter 1b. I sorta rushed the chapter as writing it was hard. Linking the passages was tough for me and in my opinion, this seemed disappointing. I may edit the story if I feel I can improve it. I just had to have this out soon as I’m almost through with the third chapter. [my writing jumps around a lot]. Reviews and criticism welcome.

Zaid Normal Zaid Hashim 12 608 2003-04-26T02:33:00Z 2003-06-16T19:50:00Z 4 2776 12770 236 98 19432 9.2720

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. We all bow down to her. I own nothing.

Author’s Note: Here’s chapter 3. A big thank you for all those who have reviewed.

Rating: R [vulgarity I guess and some innuendo I tend to add]

Chapter Three

He was exhausted.

It seemed that Aunt Petunia had deemed it her responsibility to think up everything that needed doing and see to it that Harry had it done by dinner. That include clearing the attic, cleaning the garage, tidying up the house and some form of manual labour where he had to carry rocks around the garden, listening to Aunt Petunia’s instructions on where to place them. But he got the notion that she had simply done it to have him running around, carrying a heavy load, wasting his time. Harry couldn’t believe how Lily was even related to his aunt, let alone be sisters.

Mom. His heart ached at the mention of his mother. He hated that the only strong memory he had of his parents was of the attack on Halloween that led to their deaths. How perverted is it that the only time I’ve heard my mother’s voice, she was screaming for mercy. He had seen them during Voldemort’s attack, when their wands connected. He wished that he’d been able to actually look at them, but he was too busy escaping the Dark Lord. My only memories of my parents involve Voldemort. Huh. He was still uneasy about Dumbledore’s explanation on how the only reason Harry had survived that fateful night was because of his mother’s sacrifice. My mother died for me. He shuddered at the thought, as more guilt grew within him.

He cherished all the stories he had heard about his parents. He often pestered Remus and Sirius to pen down some the adventures the Marauders plus Lily had experienced during and after Hogwarts. He still kept the picture of his parents holding him when he was still a baby under his bed. It was from the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year. By now, of course, the sides were creased and stained with his fingerprints. He realized that he should have it framed, but he could never place it in his room here, nor did he want his roommates in Gryffindor to see it and start pitying him. Well that and the fact that he liked the thought of resting near them. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he swore he almost felt a wave of comfort smother him. You also can’t sleep with a bulky frame under your pillow.

But now, he could barely move to get the photo, let alone do his homework as planned. Fortunately for Harry, after much persuasion and some veiled threats, Vernon had allowed him to place his trunk in his room, giving him full access to his school supplies. In exchange, he was only allowed to do his work after dinner and he had to do more chores. He had agreed instantly. On foresight, maybe he should have thought it through. Maybe this was their plan. Run me to the ground and help me die from exhaustion.

It didn’t help that there was definitely something wrong with him today. It had started with the incident at breakfast and culminated into a display of blinding lights almost everywhere he looked. It had occurred many times, puzzling him. There was no pattern towards the attacks, it had all happened during various times of the day. However, the effects lingered. His eyes hurt, and his was suffering from a headache. He resolved to write to Dumbledore tomorrow. For now, he was content to rest. Without even bothering to change, Harry closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, muttering to himself. “Happy Birthday, Harry.”

If he had been studying the photo, he would have seen the image of the baby, Harry, flickering and being superimposed by a man.

~*~

Harry awoke to total darkness. He spun hurriedly, trying to look all around himself, preparing himself for any possible attacks. Constant Vigilance! Harry remembered with little mirth. Hah! Paranoid’s like my middle name. Sighing after he saw no sign of danger, he took out his wand and magicked some light. Looking around he realized he was in…a forest? Tall, large trees loomed over him, their leaves blocking out any moonlight effectively. Deciding that staying put wasn’t really helpful, Harry set off, hopefully to where the edge of the forest lay.

After some wandering and much cursing from Harry after tripping over unseen undergrowth countless times, he saw another source of light, though very dim. Readjusting his course, he hurried towards it. Next time someone decides to drop me in a bloody forest, you’d think it common courtesy to at least provide some socks, or at least a robe. My legs are itchy as hell!

As he came closer he saw a man, bending over a pot on a fire, stirring it with a large wooden spoon. Harry approached cautiously, unable to determine if he was friend or foe. The man startled Harry from his thoughts as he spoke, without even turning round to acknowledge his presence, and invited Harry to dine.

“Oh, hello. Would you like something to eat? I’ve just started boiling some soup.”

“Um…sure…I guess.” Harry was hesitant to accept but realized that his other option was to continue wandering in the dark. Besides the man hadn’t made any move to attack.

“Then sit down, sit down.” The man gestured to the log near the fire.

The conversation then died as the strange man tended to his meal, muttering softly to himself. He seemed utterly concentrated on the pot, stirring occasionally and dipping a finger to taste the soup. To Harry’s amusement, his stomach started to rumble due to the mouth watering smell of the broth. The man chuckled at the sound, the sound of his laughter echoing in the forest, before continuing to cook the meal.

Harry used the time to observe the man. His clothes were a dark grayish green that would have faded into leaf or shadow, and his cloak swirled through shades of gray and green and brown as it shifted. His hair was long, and gray at the temples, held back from his face by a narrow leather headband. That face was made from stony planes and angles, weathered but unlined despite the gray in his hair. When he moved, Harry could think of nothing but a snake. But there also was a resonance of power that radiated from him, demanding that you look at him with utmost respect. Ignoring his shabby clothes, the man looked almost regal, carrying himself well with confidence. Harry studied his posture; even as he lazed in front of the fire cooking, Harry felt sure that he was constantly alert of any threat and was capable in handling it if the need arose.

Suddenly the man turned and faced Harry, fixing his gaze on the boy, eyes as cold and blue as a midwinter dawn. His eyes transfixed Harry. It was as if he was weighing the youth in his mind, and there was no sign on his face of what the scales told him. Harry felt lightheaded, the hypnotic eyes having a large effect on him. The effect was lost when the man shifted, getting to his feet, before offering a bowl of soup to Harry. Still feeling woozy, Harry accepted it without any comment and the pair both silently enjoyed their meals and the serenity of the location. The quiet was broken however when the man made an observation.

“I hope you're not a Dark wizard. I don't like killing people after I've fed them.”

“What? No, no. Definitely not a Dark wizard.” Harry was certainly surprised at the man’s bluntness.

“Are you an Auror then? I had to kill a couple of Aurors once. Bad business, that, killing Aurors. Don't like it.”

“Not an Auror either,” Harry answered quickly.

The man just nodded absently before continuing his meal.

The calm did little other then distract Harry, making him feel increasingly uncomfortable. He built up his courage and voiced out a question “Excuse me, sir. Ah, where are we?”

The man looked at Harry as if he was an idiot. “In the middle of a forest, of course. I’d thought that’d be obvious.”

Harry barely noticed the tone of his voice. “Sure…. Who are you, sir?”

“I am Salazar Slytherin. And you?”

Beat.

“… Would you repeat that sir? I swore I heard you say you were Slytherin himself.”

“I did.” The man looked questioningly at Harry, wondering why the boy seemed shocked.

Harry shook his head, muttering to himself. “Brilliant! And I’m Bill soddin’ Gates. Now I’m dreaming of Salazar. Must have been working to much. Tired went straight to my brain”

“Nice to meet you Bill. I’m fairly sure I’m right here and that you’re not dreaming.”

The way the man answered Harry, without any pretences or nervousness, convinced him that the man was certain he was actually the Salazar Slytherin and Harry found his next challenge to sway the man back to the land of reality and truth.

“What? No, no. I was just joking. As you can see from my scar, I’m Harry Potter.”

“Oh yes. I’ve noticed that. It looks painful, but kind of nice; a lightning bolt. How’d you get it?”

It was obvious to Harry that the man who called himself Salazar had no notion about Harry or his history. His question wasn’t probing but curious. Suddenly a flash of recognition blazed in his eyes and Harry stumbled to his feet, his bowl flung away, backing himself from the legendary wizard.

“YOU! It was you! I wasn’t having visions of Voldemort. It was your soddin’ face flashing in my mind like a fucking exhibitionist. What the hell do you want from me?”

“Excuse me? I’ve never met you before. What plans could I possibly have?”

Harry was getting more fearful, not liking his odds in facing the Founder. Okay Harry, slowly back away from the Slytherin. No sudden movements. Gotta find a distraction.

Suddenly, Harry was hit with a searing pain from his scar. He fell to his knees and clutched at his forehead. Salazar frowned at Harry’s painful expression, confused at his abrupt discomfort. Harry moaned loudly as he fainted and fell to the ground just as Salazar reached out to prevent him from hitting his head.

~*~

Severus Snape was worried.

Now one would think nothing could rattle our dear Potions Master. But Severus was consciously worried. He peeked around under the cover of his hood, making note of the number of Death Eaters present. This was the first time he had answered the Dark Mark burning on his arm, and he felt out of place, not knowing how the proceedings went about. He cautiously approached the throne at the head of the circle, keeping his gaze on the ground, unwilling just yet to meet the Dark Lord’s eyes. Stopping a few feet away, Severus bent down and unconsciously held his breath, waiting for Voldemort’s reaction to his presence.

“So, Severus. You have finally decided to answer my call.”

“Yes, my Lord. I apologise I was unable to come earlier.”

“Let’s hear your excuse. And hope I find it worthy.”

“Of course, my Lord. I was unable to answer your first summons due to the fact that I was on the school grounds, which forbid me from Apparating immediately. Furthermore, I had to deal with the presence of Albus Dumbledore, who insisted I accompany him during investigations for the Potter boy’s disappearance.”

“I see.”

“After the boy’s return, I had come across Karkaroff. He had been dreading my Lord’s rise for the past year, and it was then he fled, afraid of my Lord’s revenge due to his betrayal. Thus, my Lord, I have spent most of my time searching the gutters of the underworld, looking for the weakling. May I present to you, my Lord. The traitorous bastard.”

Severus rose and turned swiftly, directing his attention to beyond the circle. He withdrew his wand and summoned the former Death Eater to the center of the circle. He was motionless due to Snape’s full body bind and none of his protests were noticed due to a silencing charm. As he settled the large man on the ground, Severus faced the Dark Lord once again before bowing down.

“I offer to you, my master, me and the traitor, accepting all justice you wish to carry out, welcoming any and all punishment dealt by your hand, for my insolence, for not obeying your call, your order. My life is in your hands, my Lord. Do what you wish with it.”

“Well done Severus. Very well done. I’ve heard Lucious’s comments concerning your exploits after my…incarceration…in my less then human form. He gives you many praises. I understand that you’re the Slytherin Head? Nicely done. You fit well in my plans. For that you will live. Do well not to cross me again.”

Voldemort watched Snape as the professor approached him and kissed his robes, muttering his gratitude for the Dark Lord’s mercy, before turning his attention to the renounced Death Eater.

“Well Karkaroff. You finally show your shameless face. Did you honestly I was gone? That some boy defeated me? That Death could proclaim victory over the Dark Lord himself? Foolish boy. I’d always thought you were too weak-willed to join my elite, little pressure required before you broke. You proved me right. Let’s see how much force will be needed to break you tonight. My Death Eaters! Let’s participate in some lovely torture shall we. Crucio!”

The suffering wizard’s eyes bulged and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Deep in his mind, a small voice prayed to whatever higher power existed that the vile wizard would end it quick, but the rest of him knew that he would die a long, drawn out death, just as he had experienced and dealt out himself, during his times of service. He swallowed painfully as more curses landed on him; Voldemort had motioned to his followers to unleash their magic on the fallen man.

His gaze rested on the Slytherin Head. Severus could do nothing to divert his eyes, looking in the depths of his mind, begging silently for forgiveness, pleading for understanding that this was the last option he had. Damn Albus! Damn him and his Order. “You know what I must ask you to do.” He had wished there was some other choice, but he had studied every avenue to regain Voldemort’s trust and all only led to dead ends. He knew it would eventually culminate to these events, that he would have to trade a man’s life to reenter the fray. But dammit, I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. That I would have to sacrifice Igor.

Sometimes he wished he could just leave his life, his involvement with Dumbledore and Hogwarts. But always, the ache in his forearm reminded him that this was where he was needed, this was where he had come for salvation, where he had gained a second chance. And he realized that he could never back away from the man who had granted him mercy and escape from the darkness. He realized that atonement for his past could never end. Silently he prayed for Igor’s soul and his own, before raising his own wand and uttering the final curse.

~*~

A/N: Well there’s Salazar. His speech may seem kinda off cos I have no idea how they spoke a thousand years ago…If you do, tell me…as it is I’m trying to make his dialogue more formal and exclude slang and etc…I needed Snape to rejoin Voldie, and thus the capture of Igor. He might not be dead yet tho, as he still may feature in the later parts…but I may just leave him dead, if the plot calls for it…I don’t like killing off characters…the dialogue between Harry and Salazar was pretty hard to write as I had to pin down the founder’s personality…as a copout, he’ll most probably have schizophrenia, heh j/k…hopefully it’ll be well received…I’m sorry if any of you are offended by the vulgarities but I just type the dialogue as if I were the one speaking…I also use it to show huge amounts of emotion…if anyone feels its really inappropriate I may cut back on it tho…well that’s it…the next chapter will most probably be up by Wednesday latest…

On a different note… can someone tell me how old Figg is?? Is she part of Lily’s school years?? Or is she old and stuff?? And what about Mundungus?? I like to stick to canon…so if anything seems out of place, tell me and I’ll try to fix it…also I’ll appreciate any help if you can tell me bout the school system…cos I’m asian and thus thoroughly ignorant on the british school system…I need holidays, breaks, and Hogwart’s school schedule and anything else that seems relevant…email me rather then leave it in a review if you could…I need to plan out classes…thnx

BTW…can anyone tell me what happened to the Mirror of Maybe??? My bookmark says its lost…I really liked the story and would be happy if someone gave me another link to it. Oh and I’ll be grateful for any fic recs…esp H/H epics…cos I’m kinda busy to search thru ffnet…Thank you

Zaid Hashim Normal Zaid Hashim 21 1130 2003-06-16T18:17:00Z 2003-07-06T07:55:00Z 8 4025 18856 352 160 22743 9.2720

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. We all bow down to her. I own nothing.

Author’s Note: A big apology for a very, very late update. Also like to thank all of you who bothered to review. Well enough of that. On to the story!

Rating: R

Chapter Four

“Ugh. This is what a hangover must feel like.”

Harry remained flat on his back, unwilling to move due to his throbbing head and aching muscles. Glancing at the window, he saw that it was nearly sunrise. Damn. He looked down at himself and shamefully discovered he had gone to bed still clad in his outdoor work clothes, which, unfortunately meant his sheets were dirty. That would eventually lead to an extra load of laundry and at least a five-minute nagging from his aunt. Not to mention I overslept. He groaned audibly, wondering why the day seemed to be doomed from the beginning. He closed his eyes once again in a lame attempt to get some rest before he sat up abruptly, his body moaning in protest, his mind finally remembering last night’s events.

Snape. Death Eater meeting. Voldemort. Karkaroff. He flinched unconsciously when he remembered the curses rained on the Durmstang Professor; he had felt after effects from every one of them. His memory blurred after Karkaroff had collapsed. Suddenly he remembered the events that occurred before the vision. His unnerving encounter with the founder. He wondered if it was one of Voldemort’s schemes; that he had managed to bring the legendary wizard back to life and they had joined forces to run ragged over the wizarding world. But then…why in soddin’ hell am I in my room? I…I thought I was in a forest…

So did I apparently…

“Who said that?” Harry hastily rose from his bed, his eyes shifting all over his room in an attempt to find the source of the voice he had heard.

Calm down child. You don’t need to shout. And stop thinking so loudly. Your random thoughts are very distracting.

“Oh? Is that so? Well I’m sorry mister but I don’t give a bleeding fuck! Now where … Wait. …Did you say you were reading my mind?”

That would be correct. I don’t think you need to speak out loud at all. I figure we can communicate telepathically…if that’s what you call talking to someone who’s residing in your head.

Wh… Why are you in my head?

~*~

Kingsley Shacklebolt surveyed the room from the corner where he was sitting. Severus was lounging near the back, glaring at anyone who dared to meet his gaze. Kingsley was still amazed at the development of his former Housemate. Granted he had only known him for a couple of years in school, the younger Slytherin had left a deep impression on him. He wasn’t surprised when he learnt that that Snape had joined Voldemort. I’d bet it was that Malfoy git who led him astray. He was very pleased when he was informed by Albus that Snape had defected. Over the years, his friendship with the Potions Master had grown; Kingsley was especially amused by his extreme disposition towards the other Houses. His eyes met the lanky wizard, and they exchanged small smiles and nods.

He turned his attention to the others. Minerva and Pomfrey were discussing animatedly on the fates of the wizards who had been attacked the previous night. Hah!
Women and their gossip. …Better not let them catch me saying that out loud. Author Weasley was bending over some documents, Ministry no doubt. Kingsley didn’t particular think much of the red-haired wizard. His gaze then turned to Remus and his fellow Marauder. Studying the escaped prisoner, Kingsley noted that he seemed healthier then when he had last saw him. Of course, during their first confrontation, Kingsley was too busy trying to hex the Gryffindor rather then critique his appearance. Sitting near them was Arabella Figg. She seemed rather troubled, staring at Lupin, or maybe it was Black. Kingsley faintly remembered she had fancied one of them.

Alastor was pacing round the room, his wooden leg creating dull thumps on the carpeting. He was muttering under his breath and often glanced nervously around the whole room. After his abduction the previous year, the former Auror had grown extremely paranoid. He managed to get himself together after a couple of weeks. When he found out of the events after his kidnapping, he had put aside all insecurities to fight the good fight. Alastor had been a significant figure to many of the Aurors who fought during the dark times, and now he was using that influence to spread the news among those he could trust, that the Dark Lord had risen again.

All this stopped when Albus Dumbledore entered the room. He motioned for the lot of them sit down but was content to allow Severus remain standing. He then made his way to his desk, busying about with the files cluttered on it. When his workspace seemed fairly in order, he addressed the crowd present.

“Welcome all. I trust everyone is well? All those present have gathered for the sole purpose to combat Voldemort and maintain peace in the wizarding world. Well then, let the meeting of the Order of Phoenix commence. I know all the members of the Order aren’t present but I have been keeping in contact with them. I have received news of the negotiations involving the giants and am pleased to report that their reactions look positive. It seems they were very intrigued when we sent over Hagrid and Maxime as our representatives. Do we have anything to report from the Ministry, Author?”

The wizard stood up, glancing at the Order, nervous at being the center of attention of this group of powerful people. He cleared his throat.

“Um, it seems that the Ministry’s stand remains. Fudge is adamant in his ignorance of Voldemort’s return. He has convinced himself and many of the other influential wizards in the upper echelon of the Ministry that what occurred during the third task was due to a psychotic Death Eater, and thus the Dementor’s Kiss to Crouch Jr. is all the punishment that he is willing to administer.”

The mere mention of the Kiss sent shudders through the occupants of the room. Author took no notice to their discomfort, continuing with his report.

“In a bizarre twist, it seems that there have been calls for more justice for Cedric’s death. And due to some persuasion from the Minister, the Ministry has plans to bring in Harry for questioning.”

The revelation brought out a gasp from both Minerva and Pomfrey.

“Surely they don’t expect to expose Harry to their dreadful techniques! He is still a boy!” Pomfrey was plainly livid by the thought of mistreatment of one of the students, especially Harry. He’s so young, yet he has suffered so much. She grimly remembered that Harry had spent every year stuck in the infirmary.

Minerva was equally horrified. The Gryffindor Head was very protective of her students, even more so with the Boy-Who-Lived. But before she could voice her concerns, Author spoke up.

“I will try as best I can to prevent the questioning of course, but if it does come to it, the only thing I can do is to have myself present during his session to ensure that he is not abused in any manner.”

Kingsley decided to offer his own query.

“Author, where’s that boy of yours? Pierce or something? Shouldn’t he be in these meetings? One more person in the Ministry wont hurt, would it?”

Author grimaced at the mention of his eldest by Kingsley. “Percy. And no, I don’t think he will be joining us soon. He is resolute in his belief in the Ministry and has accepted all of Fudge’s explanations. It didn’t help that he was promoted to Barty Crouch’s previous position.”

Coming to the end of his report, Author returned to his seat. Albus gave him a reassuring smile before nodding at Severus. The Potions Master stepped up to give his own report.

“Last night, I successfully returned to one of the Death Eater meetings. Voldemort has planned nothing major, to my knowledge. The Dark Lord didn’t initiate most of the attacks over the summer. They were mostly due to Lucious and his cronies out to garner favour with Voldemort. Lucious hints of Voldemort sending out Death Eaters on scouting missions. It seems he is searching for something or someone, for that matter. Fortunately for us, it seems the potion used in his resurrection, while succeeding in restoring him to his corporal form, has not returned his strength. In fact, Voldemort’s health is deteriorating; he is becoming weaker. I suspect that he is looking for any means to regain his powers. He has also ordered me to search for any potion that might do the job. Rest assured that I will hold out as long as possible but in a manner that doesn’t reveal my double status.”

Snape returned to leaning on the wall, signaling the end of his report. He definitely did not want to inform them of Igor nor his torture. He groaned softly when he moved an aching muscle. He himself had not been spared the odd Cruciatus curse or two, even if he had proven his loyalty. Dumbledore’s voice distracted him from his thoughts, as the Headmaster continued with his report.

“Very well Severus. May I remind the Order that Arabella Figg and Kingsley Shacklebolt have taken teaching positions at Hogwarts. They will be jointly taking our Defense Against the Dark Arts. I trust the both of you have completed planning the syllabus?”

Kingsley cringed at the Headmaster’s query. When he had been asked to take a teaching position in Hogwarts, he had accepted, thinking it was important to have more capable wizards defending the one true base of the Light side. However all thoughts of defense left his head once he had been informed by a smirking Severus that he had to prepare the syllabus for his classes. Merlin! I’d actually have to teach the buggers! Unfortunately for the pair, teaching schedules had to start from scratch. Bella had been complaining non-stop about how lacking the standard of DADA was in Hogwarts. It didn’t help that the previous Professors had left little in terms of their teaching schedules. He wondered if Lupin was free to help.

“Ah… Sure we have Albus. No worries.” He answered, not after exchanging noted glances with Bella, who nodded sheepishly along with him.

Albus gave them an all-knowing smile, before turning to Remus and Sirius and giving them the go ahead.

“Sirius and I are lying low, sometimes mingling with the ‘darker’ crowd. We agree with Severus’s statement on Voldemort’s search. Many of the underworld have been gossiping on how valuable whatever he is looking for is. There have also been rumours of recruitment by Voldemort.”

The reports continued around the room, each member giving his or her take on Voldemort’s plan or anything involving Order business. After a particularly long rant about how incompetent and soft the current batch of Aurors were, which had led to some inane muttering about what Kingsley thought were some pink tongs… Kingsley was glad when Albus called the meeting to an end.

~*~

So you’re not with Voldemort?

No.

And you’re not going to kill me? Or do anything evil?

No

After a couple of minutes of confusion and panic, the pair had finally figured out that no evil plans were afoot. Harry had also managed to convince Salazar that the year was 1995 and that they were in his relatives’ house. Harry had gone on to say that he was also a wizard and he attended Hogwarts. He’d given Salazar a brief history involving Voldemort, Death Eaters and his saviour status.

Well then excuse my ignorance…but aren’t you taking things rather calmly?

If you mean I’m not running around like a headless chicken like you were, then yes I am rather calm. Doesn’t mean that I’m not worried about why I am suddenly just a voice in a boy’s head, a thousand years from where I was from. That and whether I can actually return to my time.

~*~

Albus had called back Remus, Sirius and Severus after the meeting; the remaining Marauders lounging in the seats in front of the Headmaster’s desk, their Slytherin counterpart content to remain standing where he was. Severus had closed his eyes, trying to relax his aching body. Sirius was ignoring Remus’s request of removing his cloak, adamant in covering his face, muttering something about annoying ancestors. Severus leaned closer, eager to gain any knowledge that discomforted Black, when Albus entered the office.

“Ah yes. I’m sorry to hold you back any longer then necessary.” Albus made his way to his desk before offering the wizards Lemon Drops. After getting negative responses all around, he shrugged, popped one in his mouth himself, before addressing those present.

“It has come to my attention that it would be beneficial if Harry were to stay in the castle for the last couple of weeks or so. He could do with some extra training.”

“Dumbledore, I’m telling you, remove Harry from those Muggles care. And why exactly are you isolating him? It would do a lot of good if he could write to his friends. I couldn’t even send him his birthday present. ”

“Sirius, his isolation is imperative to keep him safe. It wouldn’t do if any Death Eaters were to follow any owls coming to and from his home.”

“But he hates it there! Can’t he at least stay at the castle? At least I could visit him then.”

“Why would he hate his relatives?”

“Cos’ they’re absolute monsters! They’re mean and treat him poorly.”

“Utter nonsense. They are his family. Of course they love him. Besides, if Harry were really uncomfortable with them, he would have spoken up by now. Tell you what; I’ll bring him over to stay here for the last few weeks of summer.”

“Sure. Sure.”

Dumbledore’s flashback moment was interrupted by Severus’s outburst at Harry’s invite to Hogwarts.

“But Headmaster! Why should Potter come here? As if I need to see his pock-marked face so soon again!”

“Ah. Severus. Young Harry should start some extra training to prepare him for the upcoming struggle. I regret we had to isolate him during the summer, but it was best for his circumstances.”

Severus snorted at the Headmaster’s response and was treated with a growl from Sirius. Remus laid a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pacify the Animagus. Albus was oblivious to the tension that filled his office, instead continuing with the discussion.

“Yes. I’m afraid Harry has a pivotal role in the war

“All this is fine and good, Headmaster, but I still have not seen any reason why I had to be present for this meeting.”

“Oh but you do Severus. Your job is to collect Harry from Number Four Privet Drive. You might want to bring him Diagon Alley, of course, to get his school supplies.”

All at once in the Headmaster’s office, Hell broke loose.

~*~

But you’re a Slytherin! Aren’t you inherently evil?

Who in Merlin’s name told you that?

Um…well I go to Hogwarts. Most of the Slytherins end up as Dark Wizards and Death Eaters. Then there’s the whole Muggle-born philosophy. Oh and don’t forget your heir and your Chamber of Secrets!

So?

What do you mean so? That’s Evil!!!

You’re one of those Muggle loving fools aren’t you? Just like Godric.

There! What’s wrong with Muggles?

You mean other then the witch-hunts?

Huh?

That was the main reason we created Hogwarts, as a sanctuary for gifted children.

But I read that you planned to ban all those who weren’t Pureblood!

Well, I accepted those Halfbloods too. And what’s your problem with that?

Muggle-borns deserve the chance to study at Hogwarts too.

You don’t get it do you kid. Sure, Godric had his whole ideal vision where everyone got along. But that wasn’t possible, especially then. Some Muggles had discovered us and there were attacks. They drove our people out of their homes, with torches and pitchforks and the works. Taking in a Muggle-born who had grown up in an environment hostile to magic would have created a lot of problems. He would look down on all of us, thinking himself better then the rest of us. Or be singled our by his peers, bullied. I don’t condone violence in my school, and Muggle-borns would have created instability.

Huh… But you made the Chamber of Secrets! That thing nearly killed Ginny!

Then she must have done something to attack the castle. Vina doesn’t just attack anyone.

Vina?

The Ballisk.

You named the Ballisk?

Yes.

And you named it Vina.

I don’t see where you’re going with this.

I’m trying to comprehend you naming a 50-foot snake Vina! …Forget that. Ginny wasn’t attacking Hogwarts. Your Vina was attacking the students!

Impossible! Her main priority was to act as security! So if any of those idiot Muggles decided to storm the castle, she’d be our first line of defence. There is no way she would attack a student.

Aha! That’s where you’re wrong. Your precious heir, Tom Riddle, reopened the sodding thing and nearly cost the whole school to close!

My…my heir?

Yes! And he went on to create a generation of darkness under the name Lord Voldemort.

The wizard you defeated when you were a child. But, how could a Slytherin go evil?

That’s just it. Your anti-Muggle stance remained constant all these years, even though the situation has improved greatly. Now, Slytherins think they’re supposed to be dark, that it’s a given to reject all except Purebloods.

Merlin…Surely they knew better!

~*~

“You’re sending Snape? Of all the people you could send, you’re sending that slimy git!”

“Me, Albus? Have you completely lost the plot? And don’t think I didn’t here that slimy insult, Black. I think Minister Fudge might receive a note with his breakfast tomorrow telling, in detail, where to find a certain escaped convict!”

“You here that, Dumbledore? He just threatened me! Sodding Death Eater! Let go, Remus!”

“Aha! Acquitted, Black, acquitted! Unlike you, I might add.”

“He’ll most probably take Harry right to Voldemort’s doorstep! Snakes like him don’t change their scales.”

“You know what, Black? Now you’ve tempted me. I might do that just to spite you!”

“There! There! He said he was still with Voldemort! Lemme go, Remus! We have to stun the bloody Death Eater!”

“OW! You nearly poked my eye out! Sirius! Calm down! And you, Severus. Don’t bait him.”

“Haven’t the faintest idea what you’re saying, Lupin”

~*~

So these bright lights I’ve been seeing. They’re weaves?

Yes.

So what do you do to make them, you know, not blind you?

They aren’t really that bad. Other then some mild discomfort in the beginning, you’ll soon get used to it.

Uh. I don’t see how I’ll get used to staring at the Sun.

You’re exaggerating. Channel. Maybe then I’ll be able to tell you what’s wrong.

Channel?

You know, whatever is it you do to call the One Power.

Oh you mean that ‘empty my mind’ thingie? Ok.

That … is very bright.

You think? When you said I’d get used to it, did you mean it would be due to my lack of corneas?

But… What are you wearing?

Uh…Work clothes. I don’t see why you’re picking on my attire now. …And I only fell asleep in them ‘cos I was too tired!

I don’t mean that! I mean on your head!

You …you mean my glasses?

Yes. Take them off.

… Now that is definitely much more soothing.

Ah. Yes. That’s how it’s supposed to look like.

So what now? I’m supposed to take off my glasses whenever I want to use my superpower? Hey! I’ll be like Superman!

Beat.

Who is Superman?

~*~

“Remus and Sirius can’t fetch Harry personally because they’ll be in Romania, carrying out an errand of mine. Minerva is following me to an important conference, which rules out the Head of Harry’s house. Most of the other Professors have not returned to Hogwarts while our two new colleagues will be spending their time getting to know their syllabus and planning lessons. Both of which Severus has already finished for our Potions course. Thus he is the only one available to bring Harry here.”

Silence greeted the end of his speech.

“Understood?”

None of the three responded.

“Nod your head if you do.”

Nodding was reluctantly carried out.

Pleased, Albus returned to his seat, finished his cup of tea before returning his attention to the three wizards who were now suspended upside down in the middle of his office.

“Now. I will only release the Body Binds and Silent Charms only if you agree not to erupt into anymore fighting.”

~*~

The One Power is drawn straight from the True Source, druid speak for natural magic. Very few people can channel though. Most of the time it shows up passively, like say a Seer or allowing a wizard to be an Animagus or something like that.

Harry was now kneeling in Aunt Petunia’s garden, pulling up weeds. He had been interrupted from his earlier conversation with the Founder after Petunia had shouted at him to stop lazing about and get breakfast ready. After the house had emptied; Vernon left for work, Dudley was no doubt in the local playground bullying some small kid, Petunia had her weekly tea with her ‘ladies’; Harry set about on his chores, relieved that he was exempt from having his aunt hovering about while he worked. Salazar was now educating him on his newfound gift.

So all the Founders could channel?

No, no. Only I could. And I couldn’t find another like me. So I had to learn from scratch. Most of my knowledge of the One Power comes from years of research in Wales, tracking down past and present Druids, looking for appropriate tomes. It seems that most of the Druid High Lords were able to channel.

Wow. And how exactly do I use this One Power? Are there incantations and stuff like normal magic?

No, nothing of the sort. You weave the Five Powers.

I thought you said there was only one Power?

There are threads to the One Power named accordingly to the sorts of things that can be done using them – Earth, Air or Wind if you prefer, Fire, Water and Spirit – which are called the Five Powers.

So I can channel Earth and finish the rest of this damn garden?

I suggest caution whenever you are channeling, especially if you’re experimenting.

Then how can I practice?

I think I can teach you some of the weaves that I figured out.

Salazar concentrated on said weave, willing Harry to be able to see it. The weave imprinted itself in Harry’s mind and The Boy-Who-Lived instinctively channeled. Before his/their eyes, weeds were being pulled out the ground, roots and all, before burning to ash.

“Wow!” Wait! Can…um…can the Ministry track down magic down via channeling? That could get me in trouble.

I don’t think so. That would be like them being alerted by grass growing or a baby being born. The Druids and their One Power were all very ‘Mother Nature’.

Bloody hell! At this rate, I’ll be able to finish all my chores in no time.

~*~

A/N: Seemed like an awful place to end the chapter. Sorry.

Read Book 5. Loved it. So you can see stuff from Book Five in the fic, esp. most of the new chars she introduced. Was gonna use Mundungus for Practical Defense but preferred JKR’s portrayal. Figg’s still a witch tho. So that left Kingsley getting the job…

The magic or channeling idea I’m using is from The Wheel Of Time series by Robert Jordan. [Haven’t read the latest book yet though.] I won’t be using his mythology or anything like that…just liked the whole idea of channeling.

Looking for a beta. Email if interested.

Zaid Hashim Normal Zaid Hashim 4 234 2003-07-07T15:10:00Z 2003-07-07T15:12:00Z 4 2010 9210 168 72 11150 9.2720

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. We all bow down to her. I own nothing.

Interlude: Mentor

“Wow. So where are we anyway?”

“I have no idea actually.”

‘Then how did you get into this bloody forest in the first place?”

“I was … experimenting.”

“Okay, then remind me never to try whatever you did.”

“I was trying to open a gateway, to Travel.”

“Well then, congrats! You managed to travel your way a thousand years into the future straight into my head.”

“I still have no idea why I landed in this forest.”

“How long were you stuck here anyway?”

“Uh, a couple of weeks I think. Strange thing happened when I first entered though.”

“You mean besides the time travel?”

“Yea, there was a blanket of green light covering the forest. And the forest … it was different. Like it was drenched in blood.”

“Fourteen days ago.”

“Yea, so the green light seemed to be killing the trees slowly, I think the blood helped though, in stopping the death I mean.”

“Killing…the forest…and the blood…”

By now Salazar was too immersed in remembering the events that occurred when he first entered the forest to even register what Harry was saying. Harry was pale, his face drained of blood, his mind working overtime, processing what the Founder was saying.

“So I was a little nervous, see. Didn’t want to be attacked by the same light. So I reached out for saidin, that’s what the Druids named the One Power, and channeled. Tried to stop the light. Wove all sorts of defensive spells. Worked too, except now the light was just hanging there. Now I like a greenish tint as much as the next wizard, but there was just something wrong with leaving it there. Like Death was hung over. So I tried reflecting it, sending it back to the source.”

“You…you sent it back…”

“It’s what I said didn’t I. The spells nearly drained me. That was when I heard it.”

“What…what did you hear?”

“There were other sounds too, before that, which came along with the green light. Sounds you don’t normally hear in a forest. There was shouting, like they were arguing, fighting. Then there was a laughter, dark laughter. But the sound I heard later was different. Anguish. It was like someone wailing. Someone in pain.”

“Laugh…Laughter…”

“By then though, I so exhausted I collapsed. But there was one thing though. I thought I saw…a couple. Nearly didn’t see it of course, if it weren’t for the woman’s shocking red hair. Tried calling out to them but they didn’t hear me. Woke up the next morning, haven’t seen anyone else till you came along.”

“Red…hair?” Harry choked out. Salazar didn’t hear him though.

“The forest then seemed to be withering though, for the next week or so. Thought the light was still killing them, slowly albeit. It was kind of dark and gloomy. Then I think some five days ago, Sun came up, nice and sunny. Was nice, seeing the place flourish. Then things started getting weird.”

“Right, like things weren’t weird already.”

“You know what I mean. Heard the laugh again, that night, and the trees started…burning…the next day I heard Parseltongue. Didn’t find any snakes though. Day after that saw some strange animals. There was a wolf, a werewolf I think, a Grim and a stag. Except the stag was silver. Then day after that, that was the day before I met you, was full of incidents. Saw a dragon flying above me. Then that night the green light returned. I didn’t think I’d be able to reflect it again. I was still pretty tired. But then the weaves came, from the forest and drove it away.”

“Priori Incantatum”

“What? Brother wands?”

“Okay I think I figured out what the hell this place is. It’s my mind. Everything makes sense.”

“Explain.”

“Remember when I told you about me defeating Voldemort when I was a child? I blocked the Killing Curse. Avada Kevadra.”

“Go on.”

“That’s the thing. The Killing Curse. It’s a green light. The blood on the trees was my mother’s. The couple you saw were my parents. And…and you said fourteen days. One day here for you meant a year in my life. Four days/years ago, I burned Voldemort out of Quirrel. Next year, I heard Vina. Year after that, Padfoot, Moony and my Patronus, the silver stag. Last year, Voldemort returned and tried casting the Killing Curse again before our wands connected.”

“Makes sense. And yesterday, on your fifteenth birthday, you found yourself in this here forest and met me, bringing me back to reality.”

“But can’t you make another gateway? Back to your time?”

“What do you think I was doing the whole time? Except the gateway didn’t open. Exact same weave and nothing happened. That’s why I thought you were my way out. I could feel your power, could see that you could channel. I thought you had also somehow lost your way into the forest too, and we could help each other out.”

“What if you were meant to come? If it was fate that brought you to that moment, reflecting the Killing Curse?”

“You mean this was Destiny? Sounds stupid enough to be true. So I was meant to come all the way to the future to help fight my heir.”

“So what now? You can’t really manifest to help defeat Voldemort. How can you help?”

“Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.”

“You’re going to teach me?”

“Of course.”

~*~

It was an odd thing Salazar had taught him. Concentrate on a single flame and feed all your passions into it - fear, hate, anger - until your mind became empty. Become one with the void, Salazar said, and you could do anything.

Harry stared at him. "The flame and the void," he said wonderingly.

He closed his eyes and formed the flame. The void came slowly, hesitantly. He knew his own fear was holding it back, fear of what he was trying. As fast as he fed fear into the flame, more came. C’mon, Harry. You can do this! Grimly he forced his thoughts to stillness. He could feel sweat beading on his face. Determinedly he kept on, pushing his fears into the consuming flame, making it grow, and grow. And the void was there. The core of him floated in emptiness. He could see the light - saidin - even with his eyes closed; feel the warmth of it, surrounding him, surrounding everything, suffusing everything. It wavered like a candle flame. He reached for it - he was not sure how he reached, but it was something, a movement, a stretching toward the light, toward saidin - and it filled him, made him alive. He did not move a muscle, but he felt as if he were quivering with the rush of the One Power into him.

Saidin flooded him with life, energy and awareness. Life without saidin was a pale copy. Anything else was a wan imitation.

Reluctantly, with infinite slowness, he severed contact with saidin, gave up its embrace as if giving up life’s breath. The night seemed drab. The shadows lost their infinite sharp shadings and washed together.

“Wow. And that’s saidin. It made me feel so … alive.”

“Yeah, it does that. Enhances your senses, enlightens your soul. But don’t go around reaching for the Power anytime you feel like it. You could burn out.”

“Burn out?”

“There were records where some Druids tried to take in more of the Power then they could handle. It ended with them severing their magic, leaving them as Squibs.”

“I see.” Now, Harry was eager to take on this new challenge. “So can I practice channeling something?”

“Very enthusiastic aren’t we. Very well then. Reach for saidin.”

With the command, Salazar himself seized saidin. So much power from the boy. The Founder then wove flows of Air that snatched a random twig before sending it hurtling towards Harry. Laughing at the attempt, Harry channeled back and the pair spent a couple of minutes just controlling the twig.

“So what else can we do besides the normal elemental stuff?”

“It varies widely from individual to individual and is seldom related to the strength of the individual’s ability to channel. The best known is Healing. Other examples are Cloud Dancing, the control of weather, and Earth Singing, which involves controlling movements of the earth, for example preventing, or causing, earthquakes or avalanches. Then of course, there’s Traveling, the ability to shift from one place to another without crossing the intervening space, but you know how my attempt went.”

Now Harry was feeling more confident on his abilities. He reached for saidin - and caught nothing, as if running his hands through water. It felt like a slimy pond, scum floating atop clean water below, but he could not scoop up any of the water. Time and again it trickled through his fingers, not even droplets of the water remaining, only the slick scum, making his skin crawl. The taint slid off onto him, soiling him, but there was no flow of light inside him. Driven by a distant desperation, he tried again and again. And again and again there was only the taint.

Suddenly the void vanished, contact with saidin fled, and Harry fell with a thud that would have knocked the breath out of him if he had not already been half numb. He felt rough stone under his cheek, and his hands. It was cold.

"What. . . ?" Harry stopped to swallow. He was lying on rough, weathered stone half buried in the dirt. "What happened?"

"A surge of the One Power." The Founder tottered to his feet and pulled his cloak tight with a shiver. "It was as if we were being forced . . . pushed. . . . It seemed to come out of nowhere. You must learn to control it. You must! That much of the Power could burn you to a cinder."

“But…but…” Harry shuddered nervously, trying to shake of the feeling of the taint, trying to figure out what had happened. Wordlessly, he seized saidin, and the One Power surged inside him, no trace of the grime he had felt before. “Never mind. I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

~*~

The pair was now training every day and night. A couple of nights after their first lesson, Salazar had now gotten it into his head that hand-to-hand combat was important. He had been appalled when he found out that Hogwarts didn’t teach it students how to defend themselves physically. He had also increased Harry’s daily exercise routine, including some weight lifting with pails full of water.

He had made Harry imagine swords, which had …shimmered… into existence, noting that as a dream world, as his mind, Harry would have total control of the dimension’s reality. Salazar then went through some forms, instructing Harry to follow him. Not the wild leaping about and slashing that Harry had in mind whenever he thought about using a sword, but smooth motions, one flowing into another, almost a dance.

"Moving the blade is not enough," Salazar said, "though some think it is. The mind is part of it, most of it. Blank your mind, Harry. Empty it of hate or fear, of everything. Burn them away. Form the void, but don’t reach for saidin. You can use it with the axe or the bow, with a spear, or a quarterstaff, or even your, bare hands. Hold the sword as I showed you, Harry. I cannot make a muggle-born youngster into a blademaster in an hour, but perhaps I can keep you from slicing off your own foot."

~*~

A/N: Really short interlude. This wasn’t in my writing plan but I felt I needed to explain the whole Salazar/Harry connection and further elaborate saidin. Wrote the piece in about a couple of hours. Halfway through the next chapter though. Snape meets the Dursleys! Review please!!! Thanks

Legion