Wish Upon A Morning Star

Wish Upon A Morning Star

Harry Potter lay on his bed in Privet Drive staring at the wall. It was very late, or very early depending on how you wished to approach it and he drifted in the grim twilight of insomnia. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept well, nightmares about Sirius, about Voldemort and about the Prophecy rendering it impossible for him to sleep soundly. Night after night he struggled to stay awake until he was so exhausted he would not dream, night after night, the vivid horrors stole his peace.

This was one more night, and the still and sultry summer air filled his room through the open windows. Hedwig was out hunting and now moth's flitted around Harry's bedside lamp. They made ticking noises as they struck the bulb. As he listened, half awake, struggling to think of means by which he could both fulfil and survive Trelawney's prophecy, the ticking grew louder, until it was almost a knocking.

'Those must be awfully big moth's' he thought as he twisted to look at the lamp. The two insects were sitting on the wall, but the knocking continued. He glanced around and realised the noise was coming from his closed cupboard, quiet and insistent. Fumbling his wand from the table and pointing it at the cupboard, Harry struggled out of bed. There was something in there. A House Elf maybe or some deadly minion of Voldemorts? Backing away, Harry called out softly, wary of waking the Dursleys over what may turn out to be a trapped mouse.

"Who's there?"

The rapping stopped, and a cultured male voice replied.

"My name is Tiberius."

Harry gripped his wand tighter. A Death Eater would have sprung at him already, but what was this man doing in his cupboard? How did he get there?

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you. About the prophecy, and ask you a question."

Harry blinked. He knew about the prophecy? The cupboard door swung open - pushed by a silver-topped cane. Harry was sure the cupboard had never been so dark and deep before, and certainly the hinges had never made eerie screaming noises. A dapper looking gentleman stepped from the cupboard, emerging without effort from a space that seemed too small for him. He brushed a speck from his immaculately tailored suit and held out his hand.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?"

Harry gaped, then blinked, nodded and reached out his own hand. The strangers grip was firm and dry.

"My name is Tiberius, as I said."

They stood a moment in silence, and then the stranger cleared this throat and glanced around.

"May I sit down?"

Harry flushed.

"Sorry, yeah, sure."

"Thank you."

The man settled himself on the end of the rumpled bed, folding his hands over the top of his cane, before regarding Harry with an appraising gaze.

"Do you know why I am here?"

Harry shook his head, nervous but not wanting to seem too jumpy. Strangely, nighttime visitors had almost always proved to be friends in the past, and he hoped this stranger could be another. His mother's blood protected him here. He shouldn't be in danger.

"No. Should I?"

Tiberius sighed.

"I had hoped that I wouldn't have to tell you this myself, but so be it."

Harry's stomach clenched and a wash of panic passed over him. This reminded him of Dumbledore when he discussed the burden of Harry's shared destiny with Voldemort. This was the lead up to more burdens, more bad news, and more nightmares. He felt his fingers clench around his wand as he steeled himself for the news.

"Has Dumbledore been to talk to you recently?"

Harry heard resignation in his voice, as he braced for what he knew was to come.

"Yes. He owled me yesterday, asking if anything strange had happened."

"And what did you say?"

Harry frowned quickly.

"Why do you want to know?"

Tiberius smiled grimly.

"Because I am here to offer you a choice, one that Dumbledore does not want you to have."

The man leaned forward, staring at Harry.

"I have come to offer you the chance to be rid of Tom Riddle, the man known as Voldemort, forever."

"How?"

"Perhaps it might be more appropriate for me to fill you in on who I am." The slightest smile crossed his face "Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste."

He watched Harry in such a way that the boy felt he had missed something. This was confirmed when he made a slight wave and stood up.

"Never mind, Harry, I shouldn't expect you to know the Stones."

He held out his hand, palm towards him, and lifted it up before his face. Beneath it, he changed, his mouth now sported fangs, his features seemed sharper and more angular and a flickering flame danced in his eyes. Two short horns appeared on his brow and fingernails stretched into talons. Horrified, Harry's hand snapped up with his hand, but the hex he threw was deflected by the man's deftly wielded cane.

"Please now, I did not come all this way to fight."

"You... you're a demon!"

"Demon! Excuse yourself, I am nothing so lowly, but it's sufficiently close to my origins to suffice. Do you want to hear my offer, or shall I leave?"

Standing facing the disavowed demon, Harry was afraid. When it had deflected his hex, he had caught the barest hint of power, vast and dark as the night sky, looming out of sight. He knew that if it had wanted him dead, he would have no chance to stop it. It said it wished to talk and it offered to destroy Voldemort. Harry felt as though cogs were turning slowly in his exhausted mind.

"The prophecy! It said..."

"That you would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, yes."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I am here to let you fulfil it. As you may guess Voldemort has a substantial account to settle in Hell, and we wish to reclaim his soul. However, he cheated Death, and us, and continues to walk the earth. However no force, infernal or divine, may interfere in the sovereign affairs of man unless asked to, and there in lies the crux. We need you to ask us to destroy Voldemort. That is your power to vanquish him. Do you want our help?"

Harry's jaw had dropped. He was just about to answer, to tell this demon to do what ever he wished to Voldemort, when he caught himself. He could almost hear Hermione's shriek in his mind 'A demon made you an offer and you accepted?' He bit his tongue and thought back.

"This sounds too good to be true."

"Perhaps. It is entirely possible that you will defeat him of your own accord and we will claim him thusly. Dumbledore said that you would be unable to bear this burden, but I argued that you had the right to make that decision yourself, you have always had that right."

"What do you mean always?"

"We have been waiting for you to make this decision for five years now. Dumbledore argued that you were too young to bear such burdens. I have to question how much better it would have been for you to find out after the coming war that you could have ended it all before it had began. Dumbledore argued that we had no right to impose this on you."

Tiberius voice seemed to echo from a distant place in Harry's skull. Five years. Five years ago. He could have stopped Voldemort before he had risen again, he could have prevented all the deaths. Sirius, Cedric, Barty Crouch, Bertha Jorkins, Quirrel. He struggled to believe the demons words, while a voice screamed at him that it had to be a trick. He said so.

"No, this is not a trick. Do you want us to destroy Voldemort for you?"

"You are lying. This can't be true."

"No Harry, nor am I lying. You don't have to believe me, just ask yourself, what could you loose in this? Agree and I fly from here to drag Tom Riddle down to his judgement. Refuse, and the war will go ahead and many will die in his place. Eventually, whether he is victorious or not, Tom Riddle will stand before the Reaper and we shall have our dues."

Tiberius paused a moment then shrugged.

"So be it. It matters nothing to me, I shall be alive to see it either way. I must leave now, as my time here is short. I am intrigued to find that Dumbledore has once more out-gamed me, I was quite sure you would jump at the chance to see justice done for your parents deaths."

He got to his feet, and the doors to the cupboard opened with the distant sound of souls in torment. Harry felt his blood pounding. How could he let this chance pass? As the demon said he would lose nothing either way. He would never be able to live with himself if he refused, all those people who would die, tortured and killed by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, before he had the chance to grow strong enough to face him. If he ever grew that strong - there was no time set in the prophecy, it was possible that Voldemort would rule for decades before Harry could defeat him. He could not risk his friend's lives on such chances. Dumbledore did not think him strong enough to live with the consequences of this action; Harry doubted he could live with himself if he did not act.

"Do it."

The demon paused, as he was about to step into the darkness, turning back to him.

"Pardon me?"

"Kill him. Voldemort, Tom Riddle, whatever you want to call him. Do it."

The demon grimaced, and fiddled with the tip of his long pointed tail with one hand.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"What? But you said..."

"Yes, I said. I made the offer and you did not accept it. The matter is closed."

"No! You have to do it! You still can, can't you?"

"Of course we can, but the offer was made to do it on our behalf, and according to the way of things we cannot make such offers twice."

Harry felt his knees give and he collapsed back onto the chair. The demon paused, his brow furrowed, and then he frowned as he spoke.

"There is one other way, but it has a price. You can strike a bargain with me to do this. That, we may always do. You would have to sign you name to it."

Harry thought quickly.

"You guarantee Voldemort will be destroyed?"

"Before the week is out."

"And no more innocents will suffer? The war will end?"

"If that is part of the bargain, then yes."

"What would the price be?"

"I think you know what the price would be."

"My soul."

"For all eternity. These are the terms, there is no other option."

Harry bit his lip and stared at his wand. Eternal torment. In return for the safety of his friends, of the rest of the wizards, one soul for peace? For the lives of his friend and to avenge his parents and Sirius and Cedric. How could he refuse, when he would know, every day for the rest of his life, that he had had the chance to stop the war? Every time he read of more deaths, every time there were muggle-killings, every time the Death Eaters struck, every life Voldemort ruined, every day that good people like the Weasleys lived in fear of their lives and their loved ones, he would know it was his fault. He could have stopped it and he had not been brave enough.

He was Gryffindor. It was prophesised He had to.

Harry nodded, and the demon gestured with his silver topped cane. Harry noticed for the first time that the handle was shaped like a serpent's head, clutching an apple in its mouth, and then there was a roll of parchment before him.

I, Harry Potter, known as the Boy Who Lived, do hereby pledge my soul, on dying, to Lucifer, the Lord of the Abyss, from that day and for all eternity, in return for which Tom Riddle, known as Voldemort, shall be killed, and his forces destroyed, and the war that Tom Riddle is prosecuting brought to conclusion, all to be done within seven days of my signing below, and without loss of innocent life.

"If you would sign below. Blood is not necessary."

Harry fumbled on his desk and picked up his quill. His hand shook as he dipped it into his inkwell, and he read the short contract again. It seemed to all be there. He thought of all his friends, whose lives were in danger every day solely because of the prophecy and Voldemorts lunatic obsession with him. No price was too great to protect them from the deadly consequences of his friendship.

He took a deep breath and signed the parchment. There was a flash of heat, and his signature dried instantly, the Tiberius lifted the parchment out of his hands and rolled it up.

"I shall see to this personally. It is a shame you didn't take me up on my first offer. You have done us great service tonight, Harry, and we thank you."

The demon turned back to the cupboard, tucking the parchment into his jacket.

"Make sure you have a good time, enjoy your life. And do try not to dwell on this too much?"

Harry nodded as the demon lifted his cane in salute and, with a grin, stepped backwards into the darkness. The cupboard doors swung shut with more dim screams, and he was gone. Harry sat in his chair holding the quill, and ever so slowly tilted sideways onto his desk. His head came down and he fell into exhausted sleep.

* * *

Tiberius stepped out of the shadows halfway down Privet Drive. A long sleek Daimler glided to a stop beside him, the back door opening as it slowed. He sat into the luxuriously appointed interior, allowing himself a moment to straighten his cuffs and set his cane against the door.

"Well?"

Tiberius turned to the darkly beautiful woman beside him, the furnace in her eyes mirroring his. Her porcelain brows were ever so slightly creased as she frowned at his stalling tactics.

"Careful, Beatrice, you shall give yourself wrinkles."

"Did you get an answer?"

"Better than that, my dear." He pulled the distinctive roll of parchment from his pocket and smiled as his colleague's eyes widened greedily. Her smile revealed sharp fangs and a flickering forked tongue as she unfurled the parchment and her eyes raced across the bargain.

"My, my, Tiberius, you truly are a master."

"I particularly like the reference to 'innocent life'."

"So he believed it all?"

"Hook, line and sinker."

They both dissolved into laughter, ancient and wicked, as their expensive car sped towards the dawn.