Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Genres:
Action Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 07/20/2005
Updated: 01/05/2008
Words: 204,297
Chapters: 22
Hits: 56,754

Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

joe6991

Story Summary:
The Boy Who Lived has survived Sword and Defiance, but his fight has only just begun. Power enough to destroy Existence is growing in more than one source, and the War for Creation will burn all worlds. Beings of higher power, both Light and Dark, battle for dominance and caught in the middle is Harry Potter. But Harry has his own war to fight - against the Dark Lord - and humanity must unite if he is to win. We have reached the end, and change is coming, whether it be for good or ill. Harry must gamble again with everything on the line, even if it means damning his soul to an eternity of darkness... will he pay that price to save those he loves, or will he tear down Creation itself to destroy his enemies?

Chapter 05

Chapter Summary:
With the return of the hero, the Dark War has entered a whole new game. A further war, fought on the last plains of existence is also being fought, but Harry vows to stay out of it. Bringing knowledge of time and space, infinite and destiny, Harry sets about changing his world for the better....
Posted:
08/20/2005
Hits:
2,759


Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

Chapter 5 - End of Nightmares

For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed;
the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not
cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are
responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises,
the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment
we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.

~~ James Baldwin

"What will you do if you actually make it home one day?" Ethan asked, leaning against a tree on the other side of the campfire. They stood upon a barren world following, as ever, the golden scar link.

"I don't know," Harry replied, chewing on a piece of salted meat. He gazed into the flickering flames idly. "I really don't."

"What do you want to do?"

Harry smiled. "Apologise to my friends."

"For what?"

Harry shook his head and lay down on his bedroll, gazing up at the stars now. He was getting old, he knew, approaching sixty five. "I was... I was never the friend I should have been," he began awkwardly. "Ron, Hermione and Ginny were... always there, always understanding. I was angry, distant, and cruel at times. They didn't deserve that."

Ethan nodded. "Not many people get a second chance, you know," he said.

Harry shrugged. "Not many people are me."

*~*~*~*

May 21st

Shifting on something soft, Harry frowned and rolled over, opening his eyes slowly and carefully. His mind was awash with weird dreams and thoughts and he couldn't remember just now what he had done to be brought here - wherever here was. A bed, a comfy fluffy feather bed.

Not that comfy though - he had spent more nights under the stars than he cared to remember, and found it odd sleeping in a normal bed.

Drifting in and out of sleep, he rubbed his cheeks and kept opening and closing his eyes, trying to grow use to the sparkling sunlight streaming in through the window in the ornate gilded frame. He turned to look at the wall on his right and saw an empty picture frame which was very, very familiar....

Memory came crashing down like a tonne of bricks and Harry screamed, jumping up in his bed. Grimmauld Place, he was in Grimmauld Place after so long. Before he knew it tears sprung from his eyes and his weak arms gave way beneath him. He fell back down onto the comfy bed laughing and crying uncontrollably.

The door burst open and friendly, almost forgotten, faces ran in full of concern. Madam Pomfrey was there, Dumbledore followed her, then came Tonks and finally Severus Snape. Well, three out of four wasn't too bad, he thought.

"Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, gliding over and placing her hand against his forehead. "How do you feel?"

Harry smiled and wiped his eyes. "Never better...." he croaked. "It is good to see you again, Madam Pomfrey."

Her stern expression softened slightly. "And you, Mr. Potter. Here, drink this." She removed a potion vial from the front of her apron and lifted his head, pouring the concoction into him.

Harry coughed. It tasted terrible. "God... what was that?"

"A restorative," she said simply. "You'll be taking them for days yet."

Harry snorted. "We'll see about that," he told her, laughing again.

Tonks, purple hair and green eyes, moved up along the other side of his bed and scuffed up his hair with her hand. "Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humour, Harry," she smiled.

"You had a chest infection, more than one, and were mentally and physically exhausted, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey continued. "For a time we didn't think you'd make it, but it seems you still carry your knack for survival."

Harry nodded. "Well... well it is good to be back after...."

"After what, Harry?" Albus Dumbledore spoke for the first time, standing at the end of the bed. "Where have you been for the last two months?"

Harry stared at him for a long moment. He was the same, right down to the beard tucked into his waist belt. Colourful robes, twinkling eyes behind half-moon spectacles. It was Dumbledore. Should I tell them? he mused, now that it had come down to it. Would they believe me?

"One prison or another," he said finally. It was true - a prison of the mind was still a prison. "But we'll talk about all that later... How you doing, Snape?"

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Snape said coolly, his arms wrapped in his dark cloak. "It is... good to see you well."

Harry grinned. "You got a hug for me?"

Angry red blotches appeared in Snape's cheeks but he held his tongue, looking at Dumbledore who was suppressing his own smile. "It is really good to see you alive, Harry," the Headmaster said. "The last two months have been hard on us all."

Two months... I wish it were so. "How is Ginny? Ron and Hermione?" he asked. "Are they well?"

Dumbledore smiled. "They are indeed well, Harry, and have already been to see you once. They have their exams though, and will be here tomorrow. It was an effort getting them to leave, but once Madam Pomfrey assured them you were on the mend...."

Harry nodded and leaned back with a sigh, closing his eyes. "I've missed them," was all he said.

"We thought you were dead, Harry," Tonks said quietly, biting her bottom lip.

"Dead?" Harry chuckled. "No... not me. Still too many things I need to do."

Madam Pomfrey tsked. "Right now you need bed rest," she said sternly.

For once, Harry was not about to argue. He still felt awful. It hurt to blink, his arms and legs felt like deadweight, and even his bones ached. He appreciated, for the first time, just how close to death he had come. And that wasn't good... he was too important to die.

Also, he could get use to a fluffy pillow again. "So how do I check out now, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked the aging matron. "Healthy as a bull?"

"As the headmaster said, Mr. Potter, you are on the mend. You have been healing a lot faster than expected. A week or so should see you back on your feet and well enough for the summer break."

"Summer break..." Harry sighed, still with his eyes closed. "That'll give me a chance to catch up with everyone...."

"You will be staying here, for the time being, Harry," Dumbledore said. "It is the safest place for now - what with the war heating up again and--"

"Voldemort," Harry said calmly, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. "Voldemort...."

"Whatever you and the Dark Lord did on the 20th of March, Potter," Snape spat, "it has made him infinitely stronger. He can destroy with a thought, torture with a click of his fingers. He can scorch land for miles around with a wave of his hand--"

"Can he pat his head and rub his stomach at the same time?" Harry asked, not at all fazed. He and Voldemort were on equal power levels now, perhaps, but Harry had had his longer. He owned the upper hand, the experience, the will....

"Let's not talk about this now," Dumbledore said, clearing his throat. Harry saw that Tonks was covering her mouth with her hand, obviously hiding a smile. "We have your safety to think of, Harry. I'm afraid it may be awhile before you can leave Headquarters."

Harry nodded, as if accepting that. "We'll talk about that later as well," he told Dumbledore. "I... I don't suppose Remus is here, is he? I'd like to see him."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "He has gone to the Ministry werewolf cells for the full moon, which is in a few hours. You'll be able to see him tomorrow."

All four watched for Harry's reaction, and all four saw his eyes darken and his face set in a grim, determined frown. He sat up in the bed, and before anyone could stop him, threw the covers aside and stepped onto the plush carpet.

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "You cannot--"

"I must," he said, pushing away her arms as she tried to force him back into the bed. "Please do not try to stop me."

Something in his voice must have made her agree, or scared the matron, because she paled and looked to Dumbledore for help. He was frowning in concern and looked pensive for a moment and then said,

"You should remain in bed, Harry."

Harry didn't listen. He looked down himself and saw that he was wearing just pinstriped pyjamas, standing Hogwarts hospital issue. Grimacing, he flicked his hand and transfigured them into jeans and a black short sleeve shirt. He felt better already, wearing what he was used to.

Tonks whistled low. "That's some nice transfiguration," she commented. Harry turned and winked at her.

He then took a deep breath, standing as steadily as he could, and looked at Snape. "Sn..." he began. "Professor Snape, I need potion ingredients - and a cauldron, now."

Snape's eyebrows rose. "And why, Potter, should I help you now? You need rest, fool. You're no good to our world dead."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, feeling that it had been washed and was sticking up at all angles again. He almost went to stroke his long white beard, but then remembered that he didn't have one anymore. This would take some getting used to.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said next. "Please, I can help Remus with his... em... werewolf problem."

He was, of course, thinking of all the knowledge he had gained at the Ways of Twilight - time did not pass there, age did not matter. He had spent weeks, or maybe even years, behind the door that had said, Knowledge, and now he knew... things.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Dumbledore said warily.

Harry did not have time for this, not if the full moon was in a few hours. It would take a good three hours just for the potion.... "I can cure him," he whispered, and everyone in the room fell silent and just simply stared at him.

"Oh really, Potter," Snape began after the shock had left, "have you lost your mind? Did you learn this as a prisoner? Or was it a dream? A flight of your arrogant imagination perhaps? There is no cure for lycanthropy."

Harry clenched his fists and bit back on a quick retort. He would need the man's help. "Help me, please, or I'll Apparate out of here and do it myself."

Dumbledore was already shaking his head. "You cannot Apparate out of this house, only within it, I'm afraid. Please, Harry, get back in bed and tell us what you know."

Harry was losing his patience fast. He gently pushed forward with his mind and felt the wards on the house, specifically those effecting Apparation. He almost snorted at their simplicity - he could Apparate across continents from here with no problems.

I don't think they'll listen, Harry, Ethan sighed. Do it your way.

I have to make them trust me, he told Ethan. I can't go breaking all the rules again now - that part of my life is over. I want nothing more to do with other worlds or power struggles on different plains of existence!

Ethan laughed bitterly. When, in all the long years, has what you wanted mattered?

"Are you okay, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry snapped out of his thoughts. For a moment it had seemed he was talking with someone.... "You looked far away, for a moment then."

Harry shrugged. "Just glad to be home," he said. "It felt like a lot longer than two months."

"What is this about a cure for- for Remus?" Tonks asked. "Are you serious?"

Harry nodded, spinning on the spot to stare at her. "I can't tell you how I know but I do, and every minute now is one more minute Remus has to be a dark creature - something I swore I would destroy. I'm going to destroy his...."

Snape and Dumbledore watched Harry's face harden into something... defiant, and both resisted the urge to take a step back.

Everyone else was looking to Dumbledore for a response, for what to do. By all rights Harry shouldn't even be standing, and yet he was - and promising great things. "If this is true, Mr. Potter," he said. "We are going to need to have a long talk about where you gained this knowledge."

"Albus," Snape began incredulously, "surely you do not believe that he is telling the truth!?"

"I do, Severus," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry and not blinking. There was a story here, he knew, a great story. What has he been doing? "Please... please assist him."

Harry threw up his hands in relief. "Someone sees the light," he breathed. "Okay, Severus, to begin with we need powdered dragon's claw, fresh wolf blood, stewed horned slugs, hellebore - if you've got it - if not then aconite, and finally a six-pack of Butterbeer."

Snape was listing all of the ingredients in his head, trying to make sense of them. None of them worked well together, he knew, was Potter just being a moron? He would not put it past a Potter. "Butterbeer?" he asked, scowling.

Harry smiled wryly. "I'm thirsty."

Snape continued to scowl. "Your arrogance continues to astound me," he said.

To his surprise Harry laughed, turning away and stumbling over to the window. Snape heard him mumble... "It is good to be back."

"You have all that, potions master?" Harry called, gazing out at London. It had been many years since he had seen a city. Those last few worlds he had been on were primitive, empty, broken. "Or should I write it down?"

"If there is more tell me now, Potter," Snape practically hissed through his teeth. "I will also be expecting reimbursement for some of the rarer ingredients."

Harry nodded and, with a thought, summoned a piece of parchment and quill and ink from the writing desk across the room. A few minutes later he finished writing and handed the parchment to Snape. The man's eyes widened at the ingredients on the list.

"Bicorn skin... Erumpent fluid... you are mad, Potter...."

"The cauldron doesn't need to be big," Harry said, turning around again with his hands behind his back. "This potion will only work for Remus tonight."

Harry felt Snape scowl at him before he left the room, and when he had gone he heaved a sigh of relief. "I'd forgotten how much work than man could be...." he whispered, speaking to Ethan - Dumbledore replied though.

"While Severus is gone," Albus said, "you might want to get back into bed and wait, Harry. You are not fit to be on your feet."

Harry waved his hand dismissively, but did sit back down on the bed. He gazed at the floor for a moment and sighed again, tears welling in his eyes. He was so glad to be home. When you work for a lifetime to achieve a goal, and then finally reach that goal... there were no words.

"Molly won't be happy if she finds you out of bed, Harry," Tonks said with a grin. "She's been telling anyone that will listen that you're way too thin, and that you need a long rest."

Harry smiled kindly. "No time for resting," he sighed. "Too much to do, too little time to do it in."

"You have to do nothing but rest, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey scowled. "It seems that I only ever heal you so you can go out and get injured again - well not this time. You're not leaving this room for at least two days, and you're going to drink all of the potions I've had prepared."

Harry just nodded. "I'll drink the potions," he said, unable to stop himself grimacing, "but now that I'm back I want to work on preparing this world for the war we know is coming."

What about the war being fought outside of this world? Ethan asked, and Harry could feel him smiling. You want them to tear apart the Boundary or worse?

Not my problem, Harry replied. Existence existed for long enough before I started meddling - it doesn't need me.

"I think that's best left to us, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "You have your holidays to look forward to."

Several hours later and Harry was still in his room, but on a table Dumbledore had conjured a cauldron now bubbled viciously, and thick purple fumes were directed out through the open window into the night sky. Harry looked out of the window for just a moment at the night sky, with its full moon.

"That is forty five minutes," Snape said, and stirred the concoction, his hair and face greasy from the making of it. "What now, Potter?"

Harry cracked his knuckles and thought for a moment. "Silver," he said, taking a sip of butterbeer. Tonks had dug some out of the pantry an hour or so ago. "We need silver."

"Do I need to remind you that silver is fatal to a werewolf, Potter?" Snape snapped.

Before he said anymore, Harry disappeared from the room and dashed down through the almost empty house and into the kitchen. Dumbledore and Tonks were there, as was Mundungus Fletcher and a few others. Harry nodded and waved, before reaching into the cabinets for one of those fancy Black family silver dining plates.

To his relief he found one, thankful that Mundungus hadn't nicked them, and darted from the kitchen again without a word - leaving behind a few stunned and somewhat expectant faces.

"Should he be running?" he heard Tonks say before dashing back up the stairs.

Back in his room, Harry channelled some magic into the plate and broke off a fair portion of it, casting that aside and dumping what was left into the bubbling cauldron.

"I cannot see how this will work, Potter," Snape sighed.

Harry stared into the concoction. "Just watch...." he mumbled.

Snape had had enough. The potion was dead, he knew, none of the ingredients reacting anymore at this heat. It had been folly to even try; he would make sure Potter paid him for his spent ingredients.

"Now," Harry said.

Snape stumbled back as, without warning, the purple brew burst with light so pure that he had to shield his eyes. It died down a moment later, as Harry extinguished the flames, and began laughing triumphantly. Snape blinked a few times to clear his vision.

"Just like the book said it would," Potter was saying to himself. "We need something to put it in."

Still a bit dazed but regaining his icy composure, Snape produced a thick vial container from within the bag he had brought back from his potion stores at Hogwarts. He passed it to Potter without saying a word. Careful not to touch any of it, Harry filled the glass container with about half a litre of the potion. Faintly, it still glowed with a fine white radiance. He waited as Snape handed him the thick cork and then stoppered the large vial.

"This... this will cure lycanthropy?" he asked quietly.

Harry looked up from the potion and met Snape's eyes. "Couldn't have done it without you, Severus," he said with a grin.

Snape grit his teeth. "That's Professor Snape to you, Potter."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever."

Then, with another burst of laughter, he Disapparated with a pop. Snape cursed and instantly flew down the stairs, looking for the Headmaster, or for Potter. Something, he did not know what, told the potions master that he just Apparated through the wards. It would be just like him.

Still cursing, Snape ran into the kitchen.

*~*~*~*

Harry had to close his eyes and wait for a dizzy spell to pass before he stepped off the Apparation pads in the Ministry atrium. He tucked the potion under his left arm and walked barefoot across the crowded atrium towards the golden grilled elevators across the room.

He saw recognition flare in a few of the pairs of eyes around the room, but mostly his face was just another in the crowd. Aurors were lining the walls and stood guard on the elevators, so Harry did his best to just blend into the crowd for now - he needed to find the werewolf holding cells.

Concentrating, he could feel the dark creatures in the building - one of the upshots of being the Darkslayer - and felt them, a fair few, to the south east and further beneath the earth. He nodded, but still didn't know how to get there... if he Apparated he might end up in a wall in such an enclosed space. There were limits to what even he could do.

Thinking about that, Harry took a good look around the Ministry atrium and realised how little it had changed, but realising that made him also realise how much he had changed in the one hundred years. ONE HUNDRED! In the time he had been gone... he wanted to weep again, but just shook his head - he had a job to do, and had long ago accepted his fate.

But how to get to the werewolf holding cells? Probably not just anybody could walk in, and he was a missing person... he should have brought Dumbledore - would have, if he didn't think the man would do all in his power to keep him at Grimmauld Place. Still, he had to find a way there...

Well, he thought pensively, glancing at the Aurors guarding the elevators, I can't just waltz up and tell him my name, ask for directions to the werewolf cells.... Harry thought for a moment and then chuckled. That is exactly what he could do.

And he did.

Confidently, with a small smile, he walked over to the elevators, through the atrium and under the arch into the lift room. He made eye contact with a young Auror and, before the man had a chance to speak, patted him on the shoulder.

"Evening, friend," he began. "My name's Harry, Harry Potter, and I'm looking for Remus Lupin. He should be down in the werewolf cells tonight, so if you could just give me directions I'll be on my way."

The man's eyes goggled and his mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments before he found his voice. "Harry Potter!" he managed, his eyes flickered up to his scar. "I... I thought you were dead!"

Harry laughed. "You're not the first person to tell me that today," he said. "I'm trying not to take it personally...."

The man seemed incapable of speech again, and everyone nearby had heard and was staring in equal shock and awe. Feeling the weight of the potion under his arm, Harry wanted to get down to Remus quickly. He didn't deserve to be a wolf any longer than necessary.

"Harry!"

Harry turned, recognising that voice in the back of his mind. He frowned for a moment, looking for the source, but then another smile spread across his face. "Dermas Trask," he said, stepping across the tiled floor and shaking the hand of the blade master.

"What the hell are you doing here, kid?" Trask asked, forgetting the hand and throwing his arms around Harry in a companionable hug. "Dumbledore will be pissed!"

Harry chuckled. "I expect he'll be here any moment - let's go." Harry led him into the elevators, slamming the grille down. "I need to get to the werewolf holding cells."

Trask was smiling in spite of himself. "You don't seem to have changed a bit," he said, laughing. "Still breaking the rules."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Hmm... no matter, what floor are the holding cells on?"

"Nine," Trask said before thinking. "Shi-- why do you want to go down there?"

Harry had already pressed the button and they were soon whirling down through the floors, the automated elevator voice wishing them pleasant days and voicing the floor numbers. Halfway down a few people got in and then off a floor later.

"I can cure Remus of the werewolf disease," Harry said, balancing on the balls of his feet. "I can do so much now...."

Trask was silent for a moment, rubbing his stubbly cheek slowly, touching his scar there. "You... em... you take one too many blows to the head, Harry?"

Harry didn't answer, he was thinking back to what he knew of level nine in the Ministry. There were only two doors on that level - one to Courtroom Ten - and the other at the end of the barren corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries. Surely they didn't put werewolves in that place... he asked Dermas.

"On the full moon," he said. "Another door appears just on the right as you exit the lift. It leads down into a set of cells that can't be opened until dawn. Guess I should've already mentioned that - you won't be able to get it for at least ten or so hours."

Harry shook his head. "I'll find a way."

"How many times have you said that over the years?" Ethan asked, standing next to Trask. They were about the same height, the only difference was Ethan wasn't really standing there, just projecting himself out of Harry's mind.

Harry looked at him and shook his head. "When have I not?" he said before he could stop himself. Trask just stared at him funnily for a moment.

As Dermas had said, there was a door, an iron door, on the right when the two of them exited the elevator on level nine. Harry glanced once down the sparsely lit corridor towards the Department of Mysteries, and then turned away - he couldn't bring people back from beyond the veil, he just couldn't. He gambled with Death enough without making him even angrier.

He shivered as Dermas flicked his wand and the iron door swung inwards on its hinges, creaking across the floor. "Even if one gets out of its cell," he said, "they won't get through that door."

Harry followed Dermas now down a dank corridor that was damp, smelled stale, and lit perhaps with three torches along its length. They could hear snarling and howls up ahead. "Isn't there a guard?" he asked Trask.

Dermas looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Would you want to be in here if one of them got loose? I know aconite - wolfsbane - helps, but it is better to be safe than sorry."

Harry shrugged.

They were walking past more iron doors now, old iron doors that were rusted and covered in dust. The floor was as well, except for a few footprints here and there. There were scratches in the walls, and two torches sprang to life as they approached. Harry saw that even though the doors were old, the plastic name tags on the door were not. He walked by four cells before he found the one that said, Remus Lupin.

Placing his hand on the door, Harry pushed and knocked once or twice. It wouldn't budge and he hadn't expected it to.

"It won't open until the sun rises," Dermas was saying. "It's magically time-locked. You'll have to wait."

Harry didn't listen. He gathered a small amount of power in his palm, which shone softly in the darkness, and grasped the old iron handle on the door. With a thought, he pushed and he felt the magical time wards stretching outwards as the door moved inwards.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dermas swear and step backwards, reaching for his wand. Harry paid him no mind, and stepped in through the gap he had created. As soon as he let go of the door, the wards sprang back into place and the door slammed shut.

Dermas stared dumbfounded at the iron door for a moment, and then spun on his feet as he heard rushing footsteps from down the corridor, raising his wand he whispered, "Lumos," and his wand tip shone with light. A few moments later and Dumbledore, followed by Snape, appeared in his cone of light.

"Where is he, Dermas?" Dumbledore said quickly. "Harry--"

Trask gestured to the door that was, once again, magically time locked. There was absolutely no way to break the ward on that door... and yet Harry had... "He went in," Dermas told Dumbledore. "I don't know how he did it but he got in there."

Dumbledore and Snape paled in the light and Trask could see that neither of them knew of a way to get through those doors - not before dawn. Before he realised it, Dermas was chuckling under his breath.

Oh yes, everything was not making sense again - Harry was definitely back.

*~*~*~*

It was dark in the cell, which, as far as he could tell, was about ten feet by ten feet, and it held no fear for the Darkslayer, for The Boy Who Lived (or just wouldn't die!), for Harry Potter. He could hear slow, deep breathing in the darkness and sensed the dark creature in the room.

"Remus...." he whispered. Placing the potion vial on the floor at his feet, Harry conjured three balls of shining light and had them float across the ceiling, lighting the room. He caught sight of the wolf instantly, standing before him not three feet away.

Only years of similar dark experiences stopped Harry from flinching then. He could tell the wolfsbane was keeping the creature tame to some extent, but it could probably sense him - as the Darkslayer - and that urge might just override the potion. It bared its teeth and growled deeply in its throat.

Harry's eyes were two chips of emerald, shining in the pure light, and he felt more than saw the werewolf tense to pounce, and stepped as a blur to the side as the werewolf howled and jumped at him, hitting the iron door hard. Harry continued spinning, facing the monster that held Remus prisoner, and with a wave of his hand pushed it hard against the cell wall and held it there.

"I'm going to need some blood, werewolf," he said emotionlessly. "And then I'm going to kill you."

Its eyes spun maddeningly in its head, the black beads glowing with fire. Harry approached the monster and created a small dagger in his hand out of magic. It wasn't real, it shone with red light, and it cut through the werewolf's hide with ease. Harry slashed open its arm and red blood surged down its length.

With his mind, Harry levitated the potion over and uncorked it, placing the edge against the flow of blood. When it hit the potion, the faint white light changed to blazing silver light. Silver...

Harry took a step back, still holding the potion and werewolf with magic, and forced its jaws open, raising the potion before its muzzle. He hesitated before pouring it down its throat for just a moment to say,

"I'm going to eradicate your kind from this world," he said, and fully meant it. Then he tipped the potion vial and the silver potion fell into the werewolf's jaws - some went down its throat but most missed and covered its face and matted in its fur.

Grimacing, Harry released them both and the potion vial shattered on the ground as the werewolf stood tall and growled hate at him. Harry didn't move as it took a step towards him, claws scraping on the stone floor, and then hesitated....

Harry smiled darkly, it didn't reach his eyes, as the creature fell to the floor and began to writhe in pain - he felt sorry for Remus, surely, but this had to be done. Silver beads of light began to pull themselves clean of the fast changing form, hovering in the air above the creature's disintegrating flesh - it was the poison of the werewolf.

It took less time than he had estimated, and left a shaking and naked Remus Lupin on the ground weeping softly. Above him a sphere of silver light still hung, and when Harry blinked that burst into flame and fell to the floor as dust. He knelt down next to Remus, who was looking up at him now with faint recognition.

"Hello, Harry," he managed, his bloodshot yellow eyes fading to white for the last time. "Is it morning already?"

Harry looked around the cell and noticed a tattered pair of robes lying in one corner. They would have been expensive before the werewolf got its teeth into them, as Remus did have money - from Sirius. With a few muttered words Harry repaired them and summoned them over.

"It is not even midnight yet," Harry said softly, as Remus rose and pulled on his robes. They slipped down over his head and dark, suspicious eyes fell on Harry's.

"That's... that's not possible."

Harry was jumping inside with the emotion and excitement of meeting yet another long lost face. He hadn't felt this emotional in years, not for decades. "Come on," he said, throwing an arm around Remus' shoulders. "Dumbledore's probably outside, and then we can go celebrate."

Remus was shaking. "Celebrate... celebrate what?"

"You're well, my friend. You're cured."

There was nothing but truth and honesty in Harry's voice, and Remus did feel as if a great weight - something he had forgotten he carried - had been lifted off his shoulders. He was weeping against Harry's shoulder before he remembered anything else, and when he looked up it was to meet the sparkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus...." he whispered. "Am I dreaming?"

"I would say you have just awoken from a nightmare, Remus," the headmaster said, glancing sideways at Harry. "You are cured."

Remus wept again, and Harry continued to hold him up, silently looking to Dermas and Snape, before meeting Dumbledore's gaze. It spoke volumes... they would discuss this, and everything else later - much later hopefully. Harry felt dizzy as they exited the tunnels, but satisfied. He also felt hungry.

You've started something today, Ethan said in his mind as they approached the elevator. No matter what you do Harry, you bring change. I think the war you're trying to avoid will come to you.

We'll see, he replied and his stomach grumbled.

"I'm an Auror now, Harry," Trask was saying. "And I've still got your sword - Godric Gryffindor's - I'll swing by tomorrow and bring it to you, if that's alright, Albus?"

Do you ever feel like someone, or something, is blocking all the exits? Forcing you towards an end you may not like.

I don't like to think about it....

"Do you want to join the Order, Dermas?" Dumbledore replied. "You will be most welcome."

Trask was shaking his head. "I'll think on it - I will, and tell you tomorrow."

Ethan coughed in Harry's mind. Sounds like tomorrow should be interesting, he said.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny... I want to see them now.

Wait, Ethan told him. Get some rest. You want Dumbledore and the others to trust you? Don't go off on your own unless you must.

"Thank you, Harry," Remus whispered. "Thank you so much."

*~*~*~*

Sitting in a chair in the highest bedroom at Grimmauld Place, Harry gazed calmly out of the window at London. He could see the Thames stretching away in the distance, the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, and the bridge.

He remembered back to the first world he had been in after leaving his own - the one that was near-identical - and the massacre in Trafalgar Square. He had been a military commander then, in charge of his own force that fought Death Eaters and bounty hunters. Perhaps he should do something similar this time....

Sighing, he rubbed his stubbly cheeks and yawned. Here he was already making plans for war again - he wanted a break. Down below he could hear Order members bustling around and running up and down the stairs. Pretty much every ten minutes one of them came in to check on him, to make sure he was still there, but he let them do it. So what?

Before he realised it, his left hand was shaking and a lifetime of vicious memories flashed across his mind's eye. He paled and clenched his fist, slamming it against the side of his chair. He hated feeling weak, feeling fear.... all of that was over, he told himself, and there was only one world to win now.

He'd spoken with Remus this morning - the former werewolf had spent the night in the garden, gazing at the full-moon - and he was full of gratitude and love, friendship and excitement. He and Snape had been set the task by Dumbledore to create more of the potion so it could be distributed by the Ministry to all those infected with the disease.

Ethan had been right, he was changing things again.

I wonder why I haven't felt anything from Voldemort, he asked Ethan, touching his scar briefly.

Ethan sniffed. Dear old dad? Wouldn't know, don't care - be thankful!

It might present a problem if he is as powerful as I am, Harry continued. He will destroy this world before dying.

Ain't that the truth... we won't give him a chance.

I don't see a way out of this one without all out war, do you?

Harry felt Ethan shrug, and then turned back to the window, watching the progress of an aeroplane make its way up into the sky - takeoff from Heathrow. He pinched himself - not for the first time that day - just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. There had been so many false realities and second guesses across his forgotten life, that at times now it seemed impossible that he had made it home. He just wanted to make sure.

The shaking in his hands had started up again, but it was for a different reason - and linked to the nervous/excited feeling he had in his stomach. Any minute now, his friends would be arriving from Hogwarts... any minute. Decades upon decades he had waited and now it was down to minutes...

Harry pictured a clock in his mind, a clock that had been counting down for a century and was, finally, within the last few minutes of its time. He thought he was going to be sick. Laugh, cry, he did not know what to do - and that was a first in many years.

Each time he heard a sound downstairs his heart leapt into his throat and the shakes came back. Finally it became too much, and he rose from the old chair with a sigh and walked across the room to stroke Buckbeak, the hippogriff, across its neck. Tears sparkling in his eyes, Harry recalled all of the amazing and jaw dropping animals he had seen on his... journey. It was incredible that he had made it back.

The hippogriff arched its neck under his hand and Harry smiled. "We'll get you out of here for some exercise soon," he told it. "Hagrid will probably be up with a ferret or two as well."

Walking down the stairs slowly, Harry looked over the banister and down three flights of stairs to the main corridor of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He saw one or two members tiptoeing quietly by the portrait of Sirius's mother behind the velvet curtain. His lips quirked into a smile as he found something to help pass the time.

Down on the ground floor, Harry approached the portrait quietly and stoped when another familiar face appeared from around the corner in the kitchen, carrying a tray full of breakfast and a glass of orange juice. It was Mrs. Weasley.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," he said, and she jumped. "Don't worry, I wasn't sneaking off anywhere."

Taking him by surprise, she put the tray down quickly and then practically threw herself into him, wrapping her arms tightly around him and sobbing.

"Oh, Harry, dear," she said. "It is so good to have you back. I was just bringing you up some breakfast."

"Thanks," he replied, trying to forget his first urge - which was to defend himself. His palms had almost burst with blue power. "It is good to be back."

"I didn't believe Albus when he said the vampires had you, but it seems you managed to get out of there all right in the end." She held him at arms length to get a good look at him, and winced at the scars on his face just beneath his eyes. "You must be starved," she said. "Here."

Mrs. Weasley led him over to the breakfast tray and before Harry could get a word in edgewise she had pushed a bowl of steaming porridge with honey into his hands. "You're much too thin," she said, fussing about his loose clothes. "And those looked slept in. Dumbledore is having Ron bring your trunk from Hogwarts so you'll be able to change. Oh my, you are too thin. What have you been eating?"

Stirring the porridge, Harry just let her talk and stood calmly. He was surprised the portrait of Mrs. Black hadn't gone off yet. His mind flickered back to some of the things he had eaten to survive along the... journey... and he shivered. Porridge was good and he'd not think about the other things.

"This is nice," he said. "Thanks."

Blowing on a spoonful of the porridge, Harry leaned against the wall and stared at the velvet hangings around the portrait in front of him. With a thought, he pushed them open to reveal the hideous portrait.

"Good morning, Mrs. Black," he said calmly. Mrs. Weasley jumped and sighed when she saw the hangings open.

The woman in the portrait screamed. "KREACHER! KREACHER! YOU'VE LET MORE OF THE MUGGLE-LOVING SCUM INTO MY HOME!"

Harry continued to stir his porridge, only glancing up at the portrait occasionally. Mrs. Weasley made to close it but he shook his head slightly and she stepped back. "If I see that house elf," he said, "I'll kill it."

"YOU! THE DARK LORD WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER, BOY! YOU'LL REGRET THE DAY YOUR TRAITOROUS FATHER EVER LAID EYES ON YOUR FOUL MOTHER!"

Harry frowned and set aside his porridge. "Did you... did you feel sad when Sirius died?" he asked the painting. "Did it hurt you?"

"WHY WOULD IT?" she screamed, and more people had rushed in from the kitchen now. There was Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks and Hestia Jones. Harry recalled all of their names and faces as if he had seen them yesterday - he had, some of them, but it was more than that. "HE WAS A TRAITOR TO HIS BLOOD!"

"I didn't think so," Harry sighed regretfully. "No matter - we've grown tired of you. It is time to get you off that wall."

Something in the certain way Harry said that must have transferred into the painting's consciousness, because the woman in the frame was suddenly wary, looking like a snake that has been backed into a corner.

Harry had seen a similar expression on the faces of men and women across existence, in wars mostly, where a fool commander had backed his enemy into a corner. That was one thing he had learnt early about war - never block your enemy in. Always give them a way out, otherwise you learnt the hard way what a force with nowhere to go and nothing to lose could do. They fought as if possessed, and it usually meant defeat for the fool who had caused it.

But Harry didn't have to worry about that from this painting. She had nothing but her sharp tongue, and soon wouldn't even have that. "A permanent sticking charm," Harry mused. "Nice bit of magic."

"You cannot get me off this wall," she hissed, speaking in a deadly whisper now.

Harry laughed and lightning flashed in his eyes. "There is nothing I cannot do," he barked, and with a wrenching motion of his hands the portrait leapt off the wall and burst into flames.

Mrs Black screamed for a time, and the onlookers watched amazed, until only a pile of ash stood at the base of the wall. A large imprint, lighter than the wall around it, remained to mark the spot where the portrait had hung. Harry calmly picked up his porridge and continued to eat in silent contemplation.

You've wanted to do that for years, Ethan said. Well done.

"Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley began slowly. "There is some toast and marmalade here if you're still hungry."

"Thank you," he said, and smiled again. He looked years younger when he smiled and a lot less scary. One or two of the Order members edged away back into the kitchen until only Tonks and Mrs Weasley hung back. "When... when do you think Ro--"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the front door of the house burst open and, after one hundred years, Harry's eyes fell on those he thought lost more than once across time and destiny. His eyes twitched and soul twisted at that moment, for one instant, when everything seemed to freeze.

It was Ginny who walked through the door first - and why shouldn't it be - Ginny who saw him first and stopped dead, blocking the doorway. Time stopped, Harry was sure, and in that one instant all his fears, all his pains, all his plans and all his duty was forgotten.

Time started again, as it has a way of doing, and Ginny was pushed through the door from behind - Ron and Hermione rushing in, followed by Dumbledore, who as levitating his old trunk.

"Where is he?" Ron exclaimed upon entering. "Where... Harry!"

In his mind, across thousands of worlds, Harry had envisioned this moment in a thousand different ways, but the real thing paled to his imaginings. So much hell he had fought through to win this moment, so much pain and anguish and loss - and now he was at a loss for words.

Words were not needed though, and he didn't resist or strike out when first Ron, then Hermione wrapped their arms around him. Ginny followed and he collapsed under their combined weight, whilst reminding himself to breathe. Everyone looked the same, as if pulled from his thoughts. He recalled every freckle, every blemish and even the shade of their eyes perfectly.

He was led upstairs, Ron grabbing his trunk and Dumbledore making his way to the kitchen. His friends - friends... no, family - were speaking but he didn't hear anything. He wasn't crying, he knew, but he was barely keeping it together. Hermione and Ginny were crying but Ron was putting a brave face on things. They all looked exactly as he had left them.

The four of them entered a room somewhere in the house, Harry didn't know, and only recognised it a few minutes later because of the portrait on the wall, the empty portrait. It was his bedroom, the one he and Ron usually shared. He blinked and then Hermione and Ginny were hugging him again, sitting down on the bed.

Harry smiled; he couldn't help it, and hugged them back - just to feel them, just to make sure they were real. After so long... many tricks had been played by other beings before, and he was wary, but they were real. This was all real, he was home! He wanted to groan, shout, scream with the relief.

The nightmare was over....

"We knew you were alive!" Hermione was saying, the first words he could truly hear and understand. "We never gave up hope."

Harry nodded, looking tired but happy, and held her hand, held Ginny's hand. Ron was eating a chocolate frog on the bed opposite him. Ron was! Ron! Really Ron. "It really is good to see you back, mate," he said. "The last two months have been naff."

Harry chuckled. "It was too long," he said. "Merlin, was it long...."

Sometime later, Harry didn't know - he had realised that time slipping could take place both when he was extremely happy or emotional, and when he was near death on a vampire prison ledge - he lay down on the bed with his head on the pillow and Ginny was there next to him, lying in the crook of his arm with her head against his shoulder.

In a century, Harry never had a happier memory than just now.

It was early afternoon outside, and sunlight streamed in through the window and made Ginny's hair shine. They just sat silently, happy in one another's arms. It had been too long. Harry could feel her heartbeat against his chest, she could feel his - all of it had been worth it for this one moment.

Blinking, Harry became more aware of his surroundings, and asked quietly, "Where did Ron and Hermione go?"

Ginny sighed, her breath was warm against his neck. "Hermione pushed him out of here about an hour ago, don't you remember? They went for some lunch... and to give us time to talk alone."

Harry nodded, he did remember. "I don't think we've done much talking yet," he said. "Well... em... how've you been?"

Completely the wrong thing to say, he knew, but it was all he had. Surprisingly, she chuckled. "Oh, Harry, you don't know how good it feels to have you back - you were gone so long."

Harry smiled down at her when she twisted her head to look up at him. Her right leg was tangled up in his left, his barefoot touching her shoe. They were together; a hundred years could not keep them apart.

"I was," he agreed, his voice wavering. "Too long. I'm so sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for," she sighed, sitting up and looking down at him.

"I have worlds to be sorry for," he whispered, brushing a strand of her smooth hair back behind her ear. "You're really there...."

Ginny smiled and laughed, linking her hand in his. "I am, Harry. I don't think I can even begin to imagine what you've been through, but it's done with now."

Harry nodded fiercely and his eyes hardened in that dangerous way that they do. "You're right, I'm staying here."

Ginny grinned. "Here, I kept this for you, just like you asked." She reached into the front of her robes behind her neck and Harry caught the glint of a gold necklace.

"What?" he asked.

"You said, you said you'd be back before V-Voldemort was, and you are. You gave me your ring, that I gave you, as a promise that you would be back." As Ginny spoke she removed the necklace and Harry saw looped on it a familiar looking silver circle of metal. His ring, he remembered.

Ginny gently slipped it onto the index finger of his left hand and twisted it around. It fit as if he had always worn it and she smiled contently. Harry raised his hand before his face to look at it, felt the time he knew had separated the both of them, all the years and war, and realised, for the first time really, just how... large everything he had done had been.

A nightmare... that had ended? He prayed that it had.

Putting that ring on his finger, Ginny had completed a circle started one hundred years ago, and now it was all laid to rest. It was done!

Harry was crying before he remembered anything else, and Ginny was holding him close, whispering kind words and wiping his cheeks with her sleeve. His tears were long, soul wrenching sobs that he didn't think he had in him anymore.

Perhaps I'm more human than they all think, he thought.

"It was so long, Gin, so hard... I didn't think I'd ever make it back here...."

"You're home now, Harry," she said soothingly. "Home. Nothing else matters. You can just forget the last two months."

Oh, how can I tell them, tell her? I never can... I can't... I shouldn't... What do I do?

She smelled of roses, he realised, once he had dried his eyes. Ginny, her scent was of roses - in her hair. What did that mean? He didn't want it to mean anything. He had left all of that behind. Roses, other worlds, different levels of reality, Death and Evil... he was done.

Are you? Ethan asked. Are you really?

"I have an exam tomorrow and two next week," Ginny whispered against his ear. "But other than that I'll be here, and we can catch up. You should see the DA, Harry! We've done wonders with it."

Don't count yourself out of the Game just yet, Potter, Ethan continued. Your dreams, they're of the Destroyers, the Guardians, all of that! You've pissed too many people off to just walk away.

"That's good," Harry said. 'That's really good."

Voldemort! Voldemort is my only concern! Harry replied, angry with himself and Ethan.

What if Existence and Voldemort are one and the same this time?

"We've got our holidays ahead of us," Ginny continued. "Eight weeks off. You are coming back to Hogwarts for your seventh year, aren't you?" she asked nervously.

Harry honestly hadn't thought about it. He didn't need to, at all - not for a magical education. But his friends and everyone he cared about would be there. "I don't know what's going to happen," he told Ginny. "Time will tell."

Time always did.

*~*~*~*


Author notes: Well there we go. Next chapter some more fun and whatnot. Fun, I say. Please review,

joe