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 09

Chapter Summary:
As the world changes, some sparks of light work to keep it the same. Harry Potter has shown the world he's back, but none of them can even begin to imagine how he has changed. He'll show them what one determined soul can do alone however, for without him nothing will survive. Cutting off old ties, Harry steps up to become who he was born to be.
Posted:
09/22/2005
Hits:
2,737


Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

Chapter 9 - A Toss of the Dice

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.

~~Wilcox

"What did we see today, Albus?" Remus Lupin asked Dumbledore.

They were sitting alone with Harry in his room; he had fallen into a deep sleep on his bed next to Ginny. She had woken up an hour ago, had needed a few scrapes healing, and had gone off to lunch with Ron and Hermione in somewhat of a daze.

It had been five hours since the amazing battle in the sky. Five hours since every Muggle in the country and probably very soon the world became aware that there were things in their world beyond all reason and understanding, hiding just in the shadows and spiriting themselves away in the corner of the eye. The Ministry, all Ministries, could do nothing to censor this display of magic.

It was, put simply, too big.

Being reported on the Muggle radio and on pictures and film captured by their cameras, broadcast across the planet - the wizarding war against Voldemort had suddenly become very, very public. Of course the magical world wasn't about to come forward and explain everything to the Muggles - they'd just let them draw their own conclusions.

As it stood though, the Minister, Arthur Weasley, was currently with the British Prime Minister at Downing Street after the man had called a state of emergency after the little incident on the London Bridge, in which one hundred and twelve Muggles had died and Harry and Voldemort had appeared in the sky.

Dumbledore had explained that most Magical leaders were meeting with their Muggle counterparts as they spoke. This was the biggest breach of wizarding security since... well, ever, and they were scared. Voldemort was something to fear, but at least the wizarding world knew why they feared him. Billions of Muggles just saw a monster that was fear.

"I believe, Remus," Dumbledore said slowly, staring without blinking at Harry. "We saw magic beyond our understanding...."

"Do you think Harry knows what happened?" the ex-werewolf asked, looking healthier everyday. The grey in his hair had melted away, his eyes were strong and a lot more confident and a lot less... wolfish.

Dumbledore hesitated. "More than we do...." he managed after a moment.

Harry moaned in his sleep, tossing slightly on the bed as a beam of sunlight streamed in silently through the open window, casting him in a strange glow. Remus found it hard to believe that the sky had been darker than night a few hours ago. That was another thing the Muggles feared now about today. Abnormal weather... magical weather.

Remus shook his head as he beheld the tired teenager on the bed. His shirt had been removed so Dumbledore could get to his wounds beneath it, and it had made Remus shudder and wince when he entered the room. The scars on Harry's body truly were terrible, especially that one on his shoulder. Some of them were beyond explanation though... it was odd.

Remus had seen Harry in the sky against Voldemort, and at a few moments he had almost feared him as much as he had Voldemort. There was defiance... yes, that was the word, in Harry's eyes, a power that spoke of something more than they all could see or even understand. His voice had boomed across the sky:

IT WILL END!

And Remus had almost wept at that. It seemed to have a different meaning than he knew Harry intended it for. For a moment, he had felt that everything would end - life itself, this world, time and fate... destiny and existence. It was an amazing feeling, a terrifying one, and it only lasted for a second. It had been, at the time, like he had been given a glimpse of the future... or picked up a thought from Harry or something.

Another thing beyond explanation.

Yet Harry really was all they had against Voldemort now - that much was clear. He had surpassed them all in magic and perhaps, for some reason, skill in battle. There were not many people Remus knew that could catch lightning and bend the very clouds in the sky, or light that same sky on fire. In fact, he was looking at the only person who could - just Harry.

One boy, his best friend's son, with the weight of truly awful choices bearing him down - crushing him into the earth.

What choice did they have, anymore, but to trust Harry and hope for the best.... none at all.

Something is wrong when the fate of our world comes down to a sixteen year old boy, Remus thought glumly. Very wrong.

"If the world doesn't know he's back, Albus," Remus said, "they will as soon as the Prophet can release their evening edition. What do we do now?"

Dumbledore heaved a sigh. It was rare that he did such a thing. "We face it as it comes, my friend... as it comes. Everything is changing...." The last was directed more towards himself.

Harry stirred again - he frowned while he was asleep - and showed a face he wouldn't let anyone see if he was awake. Even though he was sleeping, he looked tired. His face was creased, marred with what could have been pain. His emotions were open and bear, written clearly across his anguished grimace. There were nightmares there; Remus was sure, dark nightmares.

"The International Confederation still giving you grief?" Remus asked his old Headmaster.

Dumbledore nodded, almost absently. "I fear I am losing control in my seat there, Remus, I truly do. John Rafter has been gathering support against me, and against our efforts for declaring our war a world war. He is telling the other members what they want to hear - and it has always been human nature to take the easy way out."

Anger swam across Dumbledore's usually serene face for a moment and it was looks like this that reminded Remus that the man was human, whatever his power, and that he was old, perhaps feeling the effects of his age, and that was not good. Dumbledore was... Dumbledore, and they needed him.

Harry on the other hand... well, if Dumbledore was Dumbledore then Harry was Harry. Two men who changed and had been changing the world all their lives. Without either of them Voldemort's victory was practically assured.

Harry was planning something though, and telling no one. An owl had arrived a few hours ago from Gringotts. The goblin seal on the letter told them that at least, and if Harry was doing business with the goblins this closely then large funds would be involved. Whatever it was... it would be against Voldemort.

"We have France behind us, and a few others," Remus said. "In time they'll all be dragged into it whether they believe us or not."

"If it happens that way, Remus, then we have lost. We need time to prepare, time to plan... and I... I see no other way of getting that than using Harry."

"How?" Remus asked warily and then before he could stop himself added. "He's been through enough."

Dumbledore nodded, sighed again, and looked down at his linked palms. Too much to do, too little time.

*~*~*~*

Harry swam in dreams and power, floating in the abyss from which he could draw power enough to tear apart worlds - from which he had drawn power enough to destroy worlds - and he felt... calm. Yes, calm was what he felt.

His head buzzed, hummed, and he could see light - fading and rising, fading and rising - in the distance. A voice seemed to be speaking, whispering in his ear over the humming.

"One world," it whispered.

Harry blinked and the universe moved, forming something new. He saw himself; he was floating in the sky looking down upon himself in some lesson at Hogwarts. Sirius was... was teaching. Yes, Sirius Black was teaching Transfiguration. Harry examined himself, noted the lack of lightning bolt scar on his forehead and frowned.

"One world, Darkslayer - one choice."

For an instant he saw himself sitting at that desk, next to Neville - he looked a lot more innocent than he was used to. The universe moved again after that, colour swirling around him much like when using floo powder.

"Another choice."

Again, there was no scar - but Voldemort was there, a more-human looking Voldemort. Harry floated above the scene; saw himself shaking with fear but standing nonetheless. Perhaps he always stood... maybe that was one choice that never changed. The location he didn't know, someplace with high stone walls and an open ceiling looking out into a twilight sky.

That was another constant - the twilight.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort spat. There was a blinding flash of light, Harry watched himself die, and the hope of this world was extinguished.

"One hope - one world - one Darkslayer," that voice whispered in his ear. "You fight a war you cannot win, but can't stop fighting."

Trapped in the world of dreams, floating between realms of consciousness and life, Harry shook his head, if indeed he had a head. Looking down, he could not see his body. "I will win."

The universe flowed, switched, moved, and another possible life unfolded before Harry's eyes.

He had a scar; he had the scar, and was seated next to Ginny on the Hogwarts grounds, before a white tomb raised on a pedestal. All of Hogwarts was out there, along with many other witches and wizards. Hagrid sat at the back with... with Grawp, his giant brother. It was quiet, too quiet, and he caught glimpses of magical creatures in the forest and lake.

A funeral, he was sure, such events always had a certain... feel about them. This was a funeral... but whose?

And then it hit him - where was Dumbledore?

Surely not.

"We all die," the voice whispered, just as the white tomb burst with light and a barrage of arrows flew into the air out of the forest. "One choice, Darkslayer, has led you down many paths on your endless war."

"It won't be endless," Harry whispered as the world shuddered again. "I'll end all the wars...."

"The Stream and Boundary, several layers of many realities have begun to burn away once again," the voice whispered. Who was it? It sounded familiar, but then again not at all. Just a vague sense of... oneness. "Your heroism in reaching the Ways of Twilight was all for naught. You may as well have died."

Harry sighed. "But I didn't, I'm still alive - Death himself saw to that."

"One world is all that matters. The world that you are in, whether it be one or another, is all that matters. You stretch chance, destroy fate, what is left to do, save die?"

"I'm a survivor," Harry whispered. "Always the survivor."

Harry woke but did not open his eyes or give any sign that he had. He could hear voices in the room with him, familiar voices, and felt the absence of Ginny on his arm all in the first second of waking. Eyes closed, he recognised the voices as that of Dumbledore, Remus and.... who was it? It was... familiar.... Ah, Arthur Weasley. It was the Minister for Magic.

"How faired your meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry couldn't see their faces, but felt their tension. They were all tired, all stressed.

"Terrible," Arthur sighed. "The man blames us, of course, our world... and he may be right to. He has millions of people asking questions, demanding to know what happened, and we can't offer him a thing. He almost struck me."

"What did you tell him?" Remus said.

"The truth, Remus, or most of it," Arthur replied. "He knows that it means our war is heating up again. The man even suggested revealing the existence of our world, and working together in this fight against V-Voldemort. Can you imagine how many would die!? It sounded like more of a threat when he said it...."

"Too many," Dumbledore agreed, in response to the Muggle-death question. "We will not use the Muggles as cannon fodder...."

"Well the Muggle world is demanding answers, and they're turning to the leaders of their governments. What do we want them to say?" Arthur sounded like he was asking this of himself. He was, Harry realised. No one answered, and the silence stretched on for a long moment.

"The Prophet has been printing flat out for hours with this story, Albus," Arthur continued, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "Harry and You Know Who will be all over the world by six o'clock. How is he, by the way? Molly was fretting on my way up."

"Sleeping," Remus replied. "Not surprising either - who knows what the effect of using so much power is...."

"There will be owls in their hundreds after him," Dumbledore said next. "It may be best if you can arrange a meeting with the Prophet for him, Arthur. Best the world learns he's alive and well - and willing to fight this fight, as terrible as that is."

Harry agreed with that - he wanted Voldemort to know he was not afraid, and that a war was coming against him. He would not have this world without one hell of a fight! But he'd do it his way.

"Anyway," Mr Weasley said, "I managed to handle the Prime Minister well enough. He knows what he needs to know."

Now, Harry wasn't sure he agreed with that. With the right use, the Muggles would make an effective army against the forces Voldemort was gathering. Harry didn't know what Voldemort wanted anymore - supreme domination or total destruction - perhaps both, but he knew it would not just be him and the Dark Lord fighting. Armies would rise and fall over the next few months.

And I need thousands of men, Harry thought. Hundreds of thousands. Again, if I mix magic and Muggle weaponry... the Muggles would at least stand a chance then.

There were also the concerns over Voldemort's power levels, which were skyrocketing. Harry wasn't certain who had pulled who into the sky that morning, but they had both survived - Voldemort had enough strength to be on par with Allarius, more even, but he didn't know how to use it all effectively yet... but there were hazards in attacking early as well. Too many hazards.

What if he lost? What if Voldemort fled Slytherin Fortress and took up residence else where? No, it was safer to know where he was and do nothing for now - safer, but frustrating, for the entire world.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked against the rush of clear sunlight, rolling over with a groan; he coughed into his hand and sighed all at once. He had the aching limbs that he had always associated with using a lot of magic. His bones hurt, his shoulder hurt, and his scar had been maintaining a constant slight prickling for the last five minutes.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore said with his infinitely calm face. "I must say it was a relief to find you here after the... incident."

"Where's Ginny?" Harry croaked, hand over his eyes. "Ron and Hermione? Is everyone okay?"

"They are fine, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "They are enjoying their lunch."

Harry nodded and threw the covers off himself and spun on the bed, dangling his legs off the side. For a moment the room spun but he took a hold of himself and rose to his feet, his joints cracking as he did. Shirtless, Harry flicked open the lid of his trunk at the foot of the bed, disengaging the sealing charms with a thought, and pulled out an old white polo shirt.

"Hello, Harry," Arthur Weasley said as Harry pulled the shirt down over his head. "You've grown since I last saw you."

"Mr Weasley," Harry nodded. "It is good to see you again. I'm sorry about the mess Voldemort and I caused this morning."

Arthur half laughed. "You did what needed to be done, Harry - nothing more and nothing less. The Ministry thanks you for it. At times it seems it is only you fighting this war for us."

Harry shrugged and raised his palms and his stomach grumbled. Three sets of eyes stood staring at him unblinking though, and he sighed again. Addressing Remus, who was seated near the window, Harry said:

"I know you've probably got a few questions... but they'll have to wait - because I can't anymore. It began today, again, and I know a war when I see it. Another moment can't be wasted... suffer the cost maybe... one world that matters...." Harry trailed away, seemingly talking to himself at the end there. He blinked and seemed to remember he wasn't alone... not anymore. "So no answers now, I'm afraid, because it would take a week - and I'm not even sure we have that...."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked.

Harry grinned. "It means it's time to roll the dice, Mr. Weasley."

Ethan laughed and popped into existence next to Dumbledore. He was about half a head shorter than the old man, dressed in thick black robes and possessing intense shining eyes. "How many times have the dice come up sixes for you, Harry?" he asked. "Not once, in all the years. It is the hard way or no way with you."

"Snake eyes will do," Harry said, answering Ethan without thinking. "I can work with snakes."

"Who are you talking to, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry had been staring at something a few inches to his left. There was nobody there.

Harry blinked and for a moment seemed startled. "Myself, in a way," he smiled. "Yes, that'll do. Shall we go to lunch?"

Lunch it was, and five minutes later Harry was seated next to Ginny in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Mrs Weasley already piling food onto a plate that had appeared out of nowhere in the first instant her eyes had landed on him.

Ginny was strangely silent as they lunched, but Harry learnt that everyone had seen him facing off with Voldemort, and at that his eyes widened. It didn't affect his plans... much... it complicated nothing, but it was huge. He didn't need anymore fame; in fact he needed the opposite - anonymity.

The Prophet was due in an hour or so, and Hermione was certain her parents would recognise him and send the Muggle newspapers as soon as possible. Harry nodded - he wouldn't be here for that... he had decided to leave, and soon... within the hour.

But there were plans that needed plotting, and he had to let his friends in on a few of them for clarity's sake. Things were going to get difficult, complex, and it meant he would be disappearing for awhile - a few days at least. Too much needed doing - and the time to do it in could be counted in days. Voldemort was up to something, of that Harry could be sure, and it had to be stopped.

Roll the dice, Ethan nodded. You're taking a chance on rolling a seven on a six sided dice, you know.

I've had more impossible odds than that, Harry chuckled, attracting confused glances from his friends and the Order members in the kitchen.

"It was possibly the most amazing magic I've ever seen," Hermione was saying. "You scared us half to death, Harry Potter," she continued. "It was such a relief to find you and Ginny here."

Ginny suddenly took his hand in hers and smiled across the table at Hermione. "You should have seen it from my point of view," she exclaimed. "After... after a little incident in the shield, I think Harry set the sky on fire."

"I put it out," he protested, using an invisible thought of power to cut an apple into quarters. He was scarcely aware he was doing it until the first piece hovered into his hand. Crispy and green.

"That's what's important," Ron nodded wisely until Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

The talk went on like this for a few more minutes as they finished their lunch. For a few minutes at least, for the first time in one hundred years, Harry was just a teenager talking with his friends about the mundane, and yet infinitely important points of life.

A tense atmosphere hung over the crowd in the kitchen though, and Harry caught the not so subtle glances the Order was casting towards him. Could hear whispered conversation, and noted that a few - Tonks, even - looked a little afraid.

Harry being Harry of course, did not give a damn. They would probably all fear him before the end - all who did not know the plan, and so be it. The world needed to wake up, in more ways than one.

"Let's head upstairs," Harry said as everyone finished their lunch. "I'm feeling a bit dizzy and need to lie down."

"Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley said with concern. "I'll fix you a restorative potion."

"Thank you," he said, hiding a sigh. He would not see her again for a long time after today, and he knew she would probably hate him for what he was about to do.

Ginny held his arm tightly as they walked up the stairs, probably because she believed he was dizzy. He wasn't, but it had been a necessary lie. This way, the Order probably would leave them alone - knowing he was in the house and tired.

The four of them entered the bedroom and Harry immediately sealed the door and barricaded the room against eavesdropping. Walking over to his trunk, he shrunk it down and slipped it into his pocket as Ron and Hermione sat down on one bed, Ginny on the other.

Frowning, Harry noticed a parchment letter on the bedside table and when he broke the seal, Gringotts' seal, memory came flooding back. These were the forms for selling his estates - sent by his advisor that morning, as promised - and he had to sign them and post them back.

I wonder where Hedwig got to, he thought absently. She had fled the mountain prison of the vampires at the same time he did. She should be very close by now. Harry picked up the quill on the table, pre-inked, and scrawled his scrappy signature at the bottom of the forms.

"Ron," he said, "can you send Pig out with these today. I won't have tine...."

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ginny asked suddenly. She knew him so well.

Harry walked purposefully across the room and handed the property forms to Ron. "I'm leaving," he said. "Today, now... in a few minutes. War won't wait for me, and I won't let Muggles die just so I can have a few more days of peace."

"But..." Hermione began. "Where? Where would you go?"

Harry winked at her. "Better if you don't know, for now, as there are too many who would like to force it out of you, one way or another."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "So... you're leaving, after what happened this morning. We... I just got you back, Harry!"

Harry turned to face Ginny and ended up sitting down on the deep mattress next to her, taking one of her hands from her lap and grasping it a little too tightly. "I'll see you in a day or two, probably less, Gin. I'll keep in touch - I'll have to. You," he said, and then turned to look at Ron and Hermione as well. "You three, are important in this fight in a way I don't even know yet, but you are."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"The dreams and bruises, Ron," Harry replied. "You felt them when I was a prisoner. We're connected, for some reason, and I think it means we have to stick together - four parts of a whole - so I'll never be far away."

"Why do you have to leave?" Hermione asked, but then frowned. "No, if you're going we're coming with you."

Harry shook his head. "I won't allow it. Where I'm going you can't follow, and I mean literally can't. It'd kill you."

"And where is that?" Ginny asked.

"Somewhere not so far away," he sighed and rubbed a hand through his dishevelled hair. "But I do have jobs for you, if you'll help,' he continued. "Important jobs... and secret."

Hermione, Ron and Ginny exchanged dark almost unreadable looks. They obviously weren't happy with Harry's sudden decision to leave, and Harry couldn't blame them. It had to be this way though, had to be. He had grown used to working alone, and would continue to do so for now.

Ginny sighed in resignation. "Dumbledore is not going to be happy with you," she said warningly. "Or us, once he finds out we helped you leave - and he will."

"I have a plan for that," Harry grinned, but his eyes looked sad for saying it. "You'll help me then?"

"Of course, Harry," Ginny replied, and her tone said he shouldn't have had to ask. Hermione and Ron said the same. "But what's the plan?"

Harry hesitated, letting go of Ginny's hand to look out of the window. Thanks to him the sun had risen today, if not a little late, but he swept his gaze towards the just visible London Bridge. Emergency services still swarmed over it, and what he could see of the Thames still looked frozen. How would the Muggles explain that?

"For now," he said in answer to Ginny's question. "For now it's to build up a... defence. I want to tell you more than that, but I can't. It simply isn't safe and I can take no chances."

"You can trust us, Harry," she stressed.

"And I do," he replied without hesitation. "Of all the people in all the worlds everywhere, you three I trust. You three and Hedwig," he finished with a wry smile. "But for now I can't tell you everything. After... after I've shown you what's in the pensieve, which will be a few weeks, I can tell you what we're going to do to win this war. But only after that, for good reason."

Hermione looked sad for a moment and then... excited, maybe, flushed. "You mentioned you had tasks for us, Harry? Something to do...."

Harry blinked and then remembered. "Right. Hermione, I want you to research something for me, in as much depth as you can. As far as I know no library in the world holds this knowledge, but I'll give you a letter of rights to withdraw funds from my Gringotts account to help in the search."

Hermione was, of course, eager. "What's the topic?"

"Prophecy," Harry whispered, his eyes gleamed, and a chill ran through the room.

Ginny squeezed his hand again. They all knew the prophecy between himself and Voldemort. One shall die; one shall live (perhaps). Harry intended to be the latter, although he supposed Voldemort did as well.

"Y-Your prophecy?" Hermione asked, shuddering. "I'm not sure what I can tell you about that, Harry."

"A prophecy," Harry replied. "About someone called the Darkslayer."

"Darkslayer?" Ron repeated with a frown.

Hermione nodded, confusion evident on her face. "I've never heard of that," she said. "But I'll do my best, Harry, I promise."

Harry smiled warmly and the chill seemed to leave the room. "I know you will." He turned to Ron. Ron - his best friend, one of the few he loved and one of the few capable of unlocking the true power inside of him. "Ron, I have a job for you as well - you too, Gin - but I can't let you know for a few days until I know more. It would be wise though, Ron, I think, to read up on military tactics. See if you can get some books on it from Diagon Alley."

"Well what do you wants us to do in the mean time?" Ginny asked, a little heatedly. She obviously didn't want him to go, but knew he had to, and was trying to hide her feelings about that.

"Make sure you go on that trip to Australia with Hermione," he said, thinking and thinking and thinking. All too deeply, he was sure. Already he was juggling plans and straining as more balls were added.

"That's not for another ten days," Hermione said. "I thought you said you would be back in one or two."

Harry nodded. "I will be, but only you three will know of it. And I won't be staying long, just long enough to see how things are going. I have to do this, guys, or we lose. Just make sure you get to Australia with Hermione, you two."

"I don't suppose you'll tell us why," Ron said. "You haven't told us much else."

I don't want you killed for it, he thought. "Patience, Ron," he said. "I will explain more, when I know more."

"Why can't you just work with Dumbledore on this, Harry?" Hermione asked, after an awkward silence had stretched on for a few long moments. "He wants what's best for you."

"It might be a good idea to bring him in on this - whatever this is - you know," Ron added. "He is Dumbledore, after all."

"If anyone can help you do... what it is you have to do, it'd be him," Hermione continued, cutting in before he could say anything.

Ginny, if she had an opinion on this matter, did not say anything. Her sad silence reflected in her deep brown eyes, upon her slightly angular face framed with thin strands of deep auburn hair said more than enough. She was resigned, but would do as he asked. God burn him for it but she would follow him anywhere if he let her, even into Hell... or worse.

"Dumbledore," Harry said carefully, "would not help me with this. In fact I think he'd do everything he could to stop me, Hermione. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to... trust me."

"I do," Ginny said quickly as Hermione opened her mouth. "We do," she finished, shooting a glance at Ron and Hermione, who nodded as she did.

"Well... no matter what you hear about me over the next few weeks, just know that I'm doing what has to be done, okay?" They nodded, slowly but surely. "It is for the greater good - will be for the greater good - and all against Voldemort. But it won't be easy to accept, and if you hate me for it...."

"We could never hate you, Harry," Ginny sighed, and wrapped her arms around him, nestling her head into his shoulder.

"Never, you soft sod," Ron agreed, and Hermione nodded the same.

"Then it is time to get this show on the road," Harry said, biting back the tears he felt bubbling up into his eyes. He shouldn't cry - never show weakness - and at times was stunned to think there was enough emotion left in him to cry.

Is it a weakness? Ethan mumbled.

Harry couldn't answer that, so he didn't.

Heading towards the door now, arm draped around Ginny's shoulders, Ron and Hermione fell in behind him and, just as he touched the door handle, Hermione asked:

"Can't you just tell us something about what you're going to be doing?" she whispered in a strain. "I'm going to worry so much...."

Harry froze, and then forced a tough smile onto his face before turning around. He managed a chuckle and his smile turned slightly wry. "I'm gonna overthrow the wizarding world and unite all the governments under me, then I'm going to destroy every dark creature on this planet." He chuckled again at the end.

Ron snorted and Hermione tsked irritably. "Really, Harry," she whispered with a shake of her head. "That's not funny."

"It was," Ron giggled.

Ginny never said anything. She alone had felt Harry's arm tighten around her shoulders as he spoke, and was sure he wasn't aware it had. A spasm of... fear... apprehension... for him squirmed in her stomach as he spoke, and amazingly she found herself believing that Harry intended to do just what he said.

"Well if you're leaving," Ron said after the moment had passed, "how you going to get by Dumbledore? He'll be all over us if he thinks we know where you've gone."

Harry blinked. "Bugger, I'd almost forgotten about that. Thanks, Ron. Here's what we're going to do."

Harry told them what they were going to do, and although Ron, Hermione and Ginny did not like it, they saw clearly that it was perfect, if not going to be easy, and would require a bit of acting. Dumbledore had to believe it, after all.

"I don't like it," Ginny said when Harry finished. "I don't like it at all."

Harry, holding her hand, pulled her towards him and enveloped her in a hug, whispering softly into her ear. "I love you," he whispered, and only Ginny heard him. "I do - I always have. You brought me home; you saved it all, Gin. Remember that - but we do what we have to do. We have a responsibility to this world, because we're the only ones that can do anything about the evil that threatens it. I know you understand that."

Harry let her go, regretting it almost instantly, and turned to Ron and Hermione. He grasped Ron's hand and then pulled him forward into a quick hug, slapping him on the back. "Take care while I'm gone,' he said, loud enough so they all heard. "And look into those battle tactics."

He turned to Hermione next, and embraced her a lot more softly than he had done Ron. "Make sure Ron doesn't trip over his own feet," he told her, and she laughed.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed.

Letting her go, Harry nodded a final time to Ginny and then, with a sad wink, opened the door, unsealing it and dissipating his wards. "Game faces, people," he told them. "Make it real - I won't be too hard, Ron, but you'll feel it."

*~*~*~*

Dumbledore sat with Remus, Molly, Tonks, and a handful of other Order members around the meeting table in the kitchen discussing, who else, Harry. Arthur had just flooed back to the Ministry when they heard the commotion coming down the stairs.

"I'M LEAVING," an all too familiar voice bellowed, and Dumbledore knew it to be Harry. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"

Even though he was the oldest at the table by a good one hundred years, Dumbledore was up and out of his seat first and bolting to the corridor near the front stairs, a gaggle of Order members in tow.

So much had happened today, so much had changed, and now this... what had happened to Harry? He was becoming a danger.

In the hallway Dumbledore found Harry glaring - yes, glaring - at Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The awful thing was they were glaring back at him. The best of friends, and Dumbledore thought he could see real hate in their glares. Save Ginevra's. She looked sad.

"IF YOU'RE NOT WITH ME YOU'RE AGAINST ME," Harry roared, throwing up his arms. His eyes flashed, and power reverberated through the air in waves.

"YOU'RE BEING AN IDIOT, HARRY," Ron replied, his face full of red blotches of anger. "WHY WON'T YOU TELL US WHAT--"

"WHY DO YOU KEEP ASKING?" Harry shouted right back.

"What is going on here?" Molly Weasley, storming in with her hand on her hips, exclaimed. Her face was flushed red with her own anger, and Dumbledore felt something amiss here.

"Harry said he's leaving," Hermione whispered, her voice shaky with unshed tears. She was grasping Ron's hand tightly, Dumbledore noted. "We just... we just asked him what happened this morning and he starting shouting."

"You didn't have to shout, Harry," Ginny said, and scowled at him half-heartedly.

"You won't listen," Harry stressed, stretching every syllable. "I don't want to tell you, alright?"

"We're your friends--" Ron began, taking a step forward. "SO YOU CAN BLOODY TELL US, YOU IDIOT!"

"RON!" Molly shouted and then cried out when Harry took a step forward and threw his fist into Ron's jaw.

Dumbledore heard Ron's jaw click shut painfully and drew his wand when the youngest Weasley son stumbled back into the table by the stairs, tears springing into his eyes.

"HARRY!" Ginny exclaimed. "There was no need--"

"I agree," Dumbledore intervened, forcing all the power he could into his words. Lately it seemed that when Harry spoke, his words oozed raw power and enveloped the room. It was disconcerting, to say the least. He raised his wand and made to hold Harry in bonds of air, but suddenly found himself unable to move.

Harry glared. "You and your Order, Dumbledore," he growled. "You do nothing but talk when action needs to be taken." Dumbledore grunted as Harry pushed him back against the wall without moving, without blinking, and held him there before turning away.

Ron was holding his split lip, Hermione was trying not to cry, and Ginny had paled considerably, looking a little unsure, Dumbledore thought. The rest of the Order seemed stunned, more than anything else, possibly because they knew they could do nothing to stop Harry doing whatever he wanted.

"Harry," Remus began, angrily, "calm down. You're better than this."

"I'm leaving," Harry said to Remus and Dumbledore would have flinched if he could have moved. Harry sounded so certain that at that moment Dumbledore knew he had lost him. "You lot do nothing but hinder me."

"Harry Potter," Molly, hands still on her hips and face completely red with the infamous Weasley anger now, began. "You will stop this right now and start behaving like a sensible young wizard or you can just go back to your room to cool down--"

"My mother's long dead, Mrs Weasley," Harry growled. "And thanks to him." He nodded towards Dumbledore. "I grew up without a parental figure in this life, so forgive me if I don't listen to you now."

The air seemed to cool as Harry spun on his heels to face Ginny, who blinked under his gaze and shied back slightly.

"It's over, Ginny," he said coldly. His voice made steel seem soft. "Whatever we had relationship wise is done. I can't be with someone who'll probably just end up getting killed anyway. And too much has changed for me to love you anymore. It's better for both of us this way... so... goodbye."

Molly Weasley gasped and all her anger faded away, tears stinging her eyes, Dumbledore could see. Harry was hurting more than himself this day... so much more. A few more Order members moved forward with their wands drawn, but Harry didn't even turn around before waving his hand, freezing them against the wall.

Ginny growled as Harry finished and then, Harry made no move to stop her, she slapped him full across the face. He didn't even blink. Ginny ran off up the stairs in a blur. Harry wasn't done.

"As for you two," Harry whispered, turning to face Ron and Hermione. Hermione was dabbing at Ron's split lip with a tissue, her bottom lip quivering. "I thought we were friends, I was obviously wrong. I'm doing you a favour though. This way you can stay out of the war. Trust me, its better that way. Goodbye, Ron... Hermione. You can't possibly understand or follow me anymore."

And that was it... Harry turned a final time and Dumbledore saw the blue sparks behind his eyes as they connected with his own. The young wizard's fists were clenched and he seemed to be biting back on his anger.

"If you send anyone after me, Dumbledore," Harry spat. "Anyone! And I will not be gentle. Farewell, Professor, Remus. Remember what I said."

With a pop, Dumbledore watched Harry Apparate through wards that shouldn't let him, and as soon as he disappeared the bonds holding him against the wall faded and he slumped forward, unsure really what had just happened. He saw several people close to tears, but what was there to do?

Dumbledore knew, with a certainty, that if Harry did not want to be found he wouldn't be. It wasn't like him though. He had changed since March - changed a lot - but this wasn't like Harry. Dumbledore would have bet Hogwarts that nothing could have split his friends apart - nothing... and now.... It was awful.

I will not be gentle! Those words rung in his head, but Dumbledore had a few tricks up his sleeve, and caught himself when he realised he was already planning on getting Harry back. Was that wise, given his current temperament? Perhaps, given time, Harry would come back on his own... where else did he have to go?

No, Dumbledore knew he could not take that risk. Harry was the key to victory in this war, and no matter what he said he was not ready to fight on his own. He needed guidance; he was only sixteen, after all.

Dumbledore nodded to himself then upon reaching a decision within the first minute of Harry's disappearance. He would bring him back, using whatever means necessary.

*~*~*~*

Aware that the old man had put tracking wards over Grimmauld Place, Harry first Apparated a fair distance across Europe and over into the Carpathian Mountains, the first place he thought of.

He arrived on the ridge near the crater in the earth that used to be a mountain, a vile home of the dark creatures known as vampires, and saw that the ground was still smoking, so many days later. A vast body of steaming water had pooled in the centre of the crater, and eventually, given time and a lot more snow, this hole in the earth would become a great lake.

Harry could also see people a few miles away, on the crater's edge, and judging from their clothes, tents and equipment, he supposed they were Muggle scientists. This was another thing they wouldn't be able to explain. How does one vaporise a mountain?

Harry blinked and Apparated again, free of tracking wards this time, and the first thing he saw when he reappeared were crashing ocean waves on a long stretch of empty beach that stretched far to his left and ended abruptly in vast cliffs three or so miles away on his right.

Turning, Harry beheld a huge manor house built into the side of a sloping rock face that looked out over the glittering southern Indian Ocean on the bottom coast of South Australia. An isolated home, behind which stretched miles upon square miles of empty flat desert that eventually crossed the border of this southern state and completed the Nullarbor Plain. A large, extremely empty, lot of nothing.

The sand was smooth beneath his feet and the sun was low on the horizon, casting forever twilight upon this part of the world. In a few moments it would be gone, and Harry scowled angrily at the 'coincidence', if it could be called so. Why was it always twilight?

Harry walked off the sand onto a stone path that rose in a straight line towards the double oak black doors of the house that Sirius had left him over a hundred years ago, just last Christmas - whichever way he looked at it - and the only one that he hadn't sold off. Simply for the fact that it was huge, isolated, and had extreme... potential.

Outside the house was colossal, and probably invisible to Muggles. Clear shining windows caught the last rays on sunlight that day, reflecting off a hundred different panes of glass and making the house shine. The door was open, and creaked on its hinges when Harry pushed it forward.

Inside it quickly became apparent that this house was magically modified. It was extremely bigger on the inside than out. And it looked huge from the out. An amazingly long hall, long and wide, met his eyes and it was fully furnished if not a little dusty. At least two hundred metres long, a hundred rooms branched off it on either side.

A twirling marble staircase at the end of the hall rose up fifty metres to the next floor, and at periods along the hall dusty chandeliers flickered with flames as he looked at them. The house must sense the presence of its owner, he thought; because a coat stand on his right leaned down to accept his coat. He wasn't wearing a coat though, and it bent back with a sniff.

Not exactly knowing where to begin, Harry chose the first room on his left. It took him half a minute to reach it and inside was a library. A huge library. The one at Hogwarts paled against it. He'd have to bring Hermione here, though if he did he may not be able to get her back out.

A thin layer of dust and mould ran in this room as well. The air smelled and tasted stale, and as Harry pulled the door closed it creaked on its hinges.

This may take some time, he thought to himself, back in the main hall. I wonder how many floors there are.

Instead of Apparating this time, as Harry could see clearly where he was going, he took one step down the long corridor, blinked and thought a whisper, and was standing with his foot on the first step of the marble stairs, hand on the stone banister. He'd jumped from one end to the other.

Jumping was what he called it anyway, and it was one of the talents he had learnt at the Ways of Twilight. It worked along the same lines as Apparation, sort of, and there were no loud pops involved. It also took in aspects of bending reality and slipping into other layers of the canvas of the world. Difficult, hard to grasp and understand, but given time, Harry thought he could make it work for any normal magical person.

He climbed the stairs and lights from ornate gilded torches and chandeliers ran ahead of him, swirling up through the large open winding staircase, shining off crystal and dozens of moving portraits that stared at him warily. Members of the Black family back through the ages, he thought. They'd have to go.

The stairs must have risen for at least a mile, at least, and Harry felt the strain in his legs when he finally walked through a door at the top of the stairs and stood out on the roof of the house, only a few hundred feet above the earth, looking out into the night sky. He could hear the waves of the ocean crashing against the beach down below.

The house was huge, monumental. Perfect. Harry was certain it held ballrooms, bedrooms, more libraries, living rooms, probably quite a few bathrooms - hundreds - and kitchens. It was a house for entertaining guests, rich families from across the globe, and, Harry supposed, Death Eaters from time to time. From what he knew of Sirius' family, it would make sense.

And now.

Now it would be used for a different purpose. Now it would be used against Voldemort, and become his base of operations for his war. He needed an army though, an army bigger than this world had ever seen. Voldemort was planning something; his still burning scar was testament enough to that, and Harry would be prepared.

Gazing up at the stars, Harry's thoughts flickered over to Existence, and the war ravaging it. The War for Creation. He shoved his hands deeply into his pockets and sighed. That was not his problem; it wouldn't come to this world, and could sort itself out. Right now Voldemort was his problem, and the power surging through him.

You won't be able to fight him to the death on this world, Harry, Ethan whispered. He'll destroy it first. Where else would you go?

Harry just shook his head, he had no answer yet, and his thoughts turned to Ginny. Ron and Hermione as well, but mostly Ginny. What was her part in all of this?

Harry touched his cheek which was still a bit raw from her slap and sighed once again. He was sure they had done a good job convincing the Order that they were no longer friends, no longer together. It was hard, but it had been believable. Oh well, he'd see them again in a few days.

Deciding to explore the house some more, Harry Apparated back down to the ground floor to look around. He went into dusty, yet lavish, bedrooms. There were kitchens and stairs leading down presumably into the basement, probably dungeons actually, and came again in time to the giant library.

Clicking his teeth, Harry nodded and entered it. There were a few things he needed to know that could probably be found in here. Least of all the location of the Ministry of Magic here in Australia. Other things as well - laws and regulations, knowledge on the International Confederation and powerful governments.

After all, he needed to know which laws he would be breaking and which governments he would be defying, to find out roughly what he was up against. Alone at the moment, but there were plans to change that as well, Harry sat down at the desk and began pulling books to him with thought magic.

It would take time, but he would find what he needed eventually.

Harry read long into the night, and before he went to sleep for a brief three hours, he spent one hour putting memory into the pensieve he had brought in his trunk, before shrinking it down again back into his pocket.

*~*~*~*

POTTER BATTLES DARK LORD
IN SKY OVER LONDON

Special Correspondent Ian Lighterman

The rumours are true. The truth is known. Harry
Potter has returned from the dead and has once
again fought He Who Must Not Be Named and
lived to speak of it.

Early this morning, as unnatural storm clouds blocked
out the sky above most of the southern United Kingdom,
odd lightning and torrential rain and ice pounded into
our nation's capital. The Thames froze over and the
London Bridge became the latest battle ground for
Harry Potter, as he fought the elements to stop
You Know Who's
in his latest bid for power.

Not much is known about this attack, save that
Potter undoubtedly averted a national crisis,
dispelling the storm and battering back the
Dark Lord, but a glimmer of hope now burns
softly in the hearts of millions, as their saviour,
the Chosen One, Harry Potter, has returned.

Potter has been unavailable for comment and
his current location is unknown, but those
familiar with Potter's exploits know that he
always seems to appear where he is most needed.

With the renewed threat of the Death Eaters, and
the promise of further war on the horizon, our world
called for its hero, and Potter responded admirably.
The Ministry denies knowing where Harry Potter is,
and rumour has it that he may be amongst the company
of the mysterious Order of the Phoenix.

Potter's story is well known-- cont. p2

Harry stood hooded and cloaked in Diagon Alley, the morning after he had spent a few hours asleep in his home on the coast of Australia. His face was shrouded in shadow, but his cloak was white so as not to alert the Aurors overly much.

Around him the consumers in the Alley, and the shop owners as well, buzzed and he caught snatches of their conversations. The words on everyone's lips were Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Glancing down at the Prophet in his hand, Harry tried to ignore the burning in his scar, and looked at the moving picture of himself hundreds of feet tall in the sky. The shot had been snapped from the roof of a building a fair distance away, and as such it took in the London skyline as well as Voldemort.

Eyes shining, Harry watched his face contort in anger as he swung both of his swords at his enemy, and in the blink of an eye saw Voldemort create fiery blades of his own to counter the strike. IT WILL END! The sky shimmered a moment later and their images faded, blue sky rushing in to fill the gap in reality.

Flipping through the pages as Diagon Alley moved around him, Harry found what he was looking for. Near the middle, he found a small column announcing that the International Confederation was scheduled to meet tomorrow to discuss the fallout from what the Muggles had all seen around the world, after what had been viewed in the sky above London.

Representatives from every magical community on the planet would be there. Harry grinned.

This won't work, Ethan told him.

It probably won't, but I'll give them a chance to see the light, he replied.

Well then you better get prepared. You'll need more powerful clothes. No one is going to take you seriously if you go in wearing jeans and a shirt.

All in the plan, Ethan, all in the plan.

Tomorrow it was. Tomorrow it all began with an ultimatum thrown down in front of the world's power holders. Tomorrow Harry Potter would cease to be seen as a hero, as the saviour, of the wizarding world. He would be declared an enemy of many magical nations... and a price would be put on his capture.

But tomorrow was a day away, and there was still too much that had to be done before then. Harry folded the Prophet in half and shoved it up his sleeve, turning away back up the alley. Power whirled around him and his aura shone like the sun, blinding to those who could read such things.

Whether they realised it or not the wizards and witches on the busy shopping street moved out of his way as he walked between them, sensing unconsciously his awesome power. Harry noticed and it made him smile grimly with anticipation.

Tomorrow the Darkslayer would change the world.

*~*~*~*


Author notes: Thanks for reading yet again and please review.

Cheers,

joe