Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

Harry Potter and the Soul of the Hero

Chapter 12 - Twilight Guardians

Even memory is not necessary for love.
There is a land of the living and a land of
the dead and the bridge is love, the only
survival, the only meaning.

~~Thornton Wilder

June 25^th, 1997

That Wednesday began like any other, but that was always the way of these things. On days such as these, one could expect roiling thunder clouds, a feeling in the air, a glimpse of the impossible happening, but more often than not it just feels like another ordinary day.

To Harry, anyway.

Today was the day he made his first move against a Ministry that had denied him in the International Confederation. Today he would overthrow the Australian Ministry and, for all intents and purposes, make himself Minister. For a time, anyway.

So with that planned, Harry started his day with a bowl of cornflakes and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Ginny had insisted - said he was too pale, even - and watched him swallow every spoonful. It was unnerving, in a way, as he and his friends sat around the breakfast table.

"And you need more sleep," Ginny pressed him. "We've been here four nights and I bet we've had more sleep in one than you have in all four!"

Harry shrugged, swirling around the last few soggy cornflakes. "More sleep," he said in agreement. It probably wouldn't happen, but it would appease her. She just stared at him as if she knew he had told her what she wanted to hear.

"I want to ask you something about the pensieve, Harry," Hermione said after a moment of silence had flittered away. "To do with time."

Always and never it was time - we are ruled by it.

Thoughts of the pensieve made Harry want to shudder but he suppressed it and waved Hermione on. He had a fair idea what she wanted to ask though

"We've seen memories of you in this... this other world!" she exclaimed, and her eyes widened at the implications. "But the date is later in that other world. You were there longer than two months, and yet you got back to... you got home in less than that. Did you... I can't understand? Does time flow differently there, or in the Boundary or Stream?"

Harry sighed. "Time doesn't flow at all in the Boundary, it exists outside of time, but the Stream... if you can fight the currents then you can go to any time in any of the mortal worlds. The Guardian told me that, and don't I have a surprise in store for you about him! No, you're right - the times don't match, but I can't explain it. You'll just have to... watch it."

They hadn't quite reached his Nundu fight yet, where he lost an eye, and, whilst Harry tuned his plans yesterday, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had spent yet another few hours living Harry's memories. They were passed the Trafalgar Square bombing, and nearing the Nundus. After that things got faster... well, after the battle with Allarius things started to skip ahead in years, but it would take time. There were at least three or four days worth of memory in the pensieve still to be viewed.

"Did you travel through time?" Ginny asked. She sat next to him, her hair tied in a long braid down to her waist. Her skin was clear, fresh, and glistened softly in the sunlight through the window of this part of the house, just through the sitting room and the suites where they were all staying.

"Eventually, I did," Harry said, fighting back the tremors.

"How?" Hermione urged. "Time turners only take you back a few hours, a day at the most. Harry... you must have gone back weeks!"

"Quite a few weeks," Harry agreed wryly, running a hand through his messy hair. "Just watch it... I wouldn't want to spoil the ending."

"Did you fight Evil Ethan?" Ron asked, piling some more toast onto his plate. Jam and margarine as well. He was also fond of Coca-Cola, the Muggle drink, of which Harry had stocked several pallets of in the storeroom. Paid for in full, of course. He wasn't a thief.

Yeah, he did, Ethan grumbled. And I gave him an ass-whooping!

"Near the end, I did," Harry answered Ron, chuckling in his head at Ethan's response.

Ron nodded, bit his lip, and then blurted out another question. "Did you kill him?"

I wasn't that lucky, Ethan sighed.

Long since adjusted to who and what he was, Harry just shook his head. "No, I didn't kill him."

What did you do to me? Ethan wondered, and Harry felt he was talking more to himself than, well, himself. Ethan was talking to himself, in Harry's mind, and Harry didn't know how to answer the question anyway.

"My parents have decided to spend a few days here, on the beach in the sun," Hermione said suddenly, trying to move the conversation away from death. "But they still want to take me up to the Gold Coast for a few days, and the Great Barrier Reef."

"Just tell me when," Harry nodded, filing the knowledge away. He was wearing a black cloak over a tight fitting sleeveless shirt and leather pants, with strong magically warded boots, and around his left wrist was a band of metal, secured tightly - that had just begun to vibrate. It meant the Twilight Guardians were ready.

Harry checked his watch - 0900 - right on time.

"Well," he said. "Do you... do you want to go back into the pensieve?"

His friends had been uncomfortable jumping into it without his permission, and even more uncomfortable about asking him to view the memories that pained him so much, so Harry gave them the option now. He needed to, anyway. It was time to get on with the day.

Slowly Ginny nodded and Ron and Hermione imitated her. Although they were pretty much in the same room as the glowing pensieve on the coffee table, it was still a walk of two minutes across that room. The sitting room was huge, the centre of a series of suites and bathrooms, the kitchen and even a small library. Hermione had spent a few hours in the large one downstairs - the one that even the Hogwarts library paled against.

"I've been researching this Darkslayer, like you asked," Hermione said to Harry as they moved across the room. "I haven't found much... well, I haven't found anything, Harry. I need to know more."

That prophecy was always on the edge of Harry's thoughts, gnawing at him when he had a calm moment. He knew that he knew nothing about it, just that it was about him. Voldemort seemed to know more - but there was a greater chance of the sun rising in the west than of Voldemort telling him. He sighed.

"I'm the Darkslayer," he said. "Which you already knew." He glanced at her sideways and caught her quick nod. Ron held her hand, and Ginny came to his right and took his. "I know next to nothing, less, even, but the vampires knew something, I think. That might help. One of them could have actually spoken the prophecy. You'll see what I mean when you get to the memories of Hogwarts being attacked again."

"Anything else?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Harry grinned, coldly, it didn't reach his eyes - but then, not much else did either. "I'm feared in more than one reality...." he whispered. "Stick to older books on prophecy."

Not much to go on, not much at all - but more than she knew a minute ago. It might help, it might. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny just once, not wanting to worry her, before they fell into the pensieve. He checked his watch - 0903 - and promptly Apparated across the house into a large chamber that would have been used, at one point, for speeches at dinner parties or something equally frivolous now.

He appeared before thirty heavily armed, heavily trained, heavily shielded and heavily charmed individuals. Each carried a long black automatic rifle, which still shone faintly and crackled with blue sparks at the edge of the barrel. The thirty British soldiers didn't blink an eye when he appeared on the stage at the head of the large empty room.

Earlier in the week Harry had destroyed the dining tables and other furniture and replaced them with steel benches, chairs, and an armoury. The armoury was a steel cage, locked at all times, in which he had been building a store of arms more deadly than any other in this world, and many others.

The soldiers saluted as he stepped forward, cloak still swaying from the Apparation, and clasped his hands behind his back. He nodded to them respectfully. They had earned his respect, after all. None of them had panicked at magic, and none of them had fled after he had thoroughly explained what the future could hold.

"Good morning," he began. "Today we make an enemy of the entire world, but only to save it."

Not quite true. He had a sprinkling of allies - one or two - and some would see he was doing the right thing. Especially when no one, save Death Eaters, died for it.

The soldiers were all dressed similarly. The only difference was the letter and number on their left shoulder plates. Standing near the front of six separate groups of soldiers, were six separate men and women, and on their shoulders were the following designations: A1, B1, C1, D1, E1, and F1.

Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot. Six squads and each of them had magically warded armour and a number of charms on them that cancelled those used by the Ministries to distract or repel or persuade Muggles. For the only magical person in the room was Harry.

Also, on the chest piece of the Kevlar armour was a white rose, etched right into the piece. Like on his banner, the drops that, in times of peace would be dew, were blood. The rose was crying blood and it stained the white petals.

"You are the elite," Harry continued. Standing tall with his hands clasped behind his back. Whether he knew it or not, he cut an impressive powerful figure. The soldiers saw it, recognised a born leader, and knew they followed a just cause. "The Twilight Guardians will become known as the first line of defence against the Dark Lord. You will be the best because you are the best - and the world will know it."

Each and every one of the soldiers stood taller, looked grimmer, and handled their weapons expertly. As well as the automatic rifle, which would fire stunning balls of magic at a rate of two thousand a minute - an astounding rate - they carried a sidearm designed to do the same as the rifle but at a much slower rate. Instead of explosive grenades, on their belts they carried shining crystals. Again, these crystals only stunned anyone in their path, but they could take out a whole room if needs be.

Every member of the six squads was shielded against stunners, of course, and there was no doubt that some people at the Ministry would be as well. So the rifles had other functions, other disabling settings. A dial fitted to the right side of the body of the weapon had the following settings:

Stun
Shock
Kill

Shock needed some explaining. It fired a ball of magic, again at a rate of two thousand per minute, but this magic didn't stun like the stunning spell did. This one hurt, like a high voltage electric shock, and could cause death in extreme cases, but wouldn't if used sparingly and wisely. The majority of victims would be stunned harmlessly.

The 'Kill' setting was another thing altogether. Much to Harry's disappointment, he had been unable to make that setting fire at a rate of two thousands shots a minute. With that rate, a five man squad could wipe out an entire country. But the crystals simply were not strong enough to take that much magic from so strong of a spell. It wasn't the Killing Curse, Avada Kedavra - that could not be tamed - but a lesser curse that could be blocked.

Vestic!

Purple spheres of the light exploded from the barrels of the weapon and grew to the size of a soccer ball or so, before streaming across the air towards the intended target. The gun could only manage a rate of twelve a minute - after that the crystal exploded. Harry had had to heal three men earlier in the week to find that out. They had been burnt pretty badly.

Also, beneath the main barrel of the weapon was a smaller, secondary barrel. From this a small hook attached to a strong rope could be fired. Strong enough to hold up to two hundred kilograms, at least.

Still, it was a lot faster than a wand. That, plus the element of surprise, would be Harry's biggest advantage today.

"After today," Harry continued up on the stage. "After today you are in this to the end. The world is going to need every soldier it can get in the coming months, and it is you people, and those that will follow, who will show the world that."

An army was what he needed; an army was what he'd get. Not all of them would be Twilight Guardians - not many at all - because, as he had said, that was the elite squad. The people who would show the rest the way. No, he'd leave the Aurors as Aurors. A world of united Aurors from every nation he conquered.

It was a good plan, a little rough around the edges but doable... maybe, with luck. No, not luck - hard work and a hell of a lot of determination.

"Now, be ready," Harry said finally. "I'll open a gateway and then it will begin. Remember - no killing."

Without another moment of hesitation Harry did just that.

Heads or tails? Ethan asked.

In the centre of the room a long doorway opened in the air, cut through reality and joined one thread of the canvas of this world with another thread of the same world. It was, really, a lesser version of the gateways between worlds. A tunnel that connected two points in one world.

At times like this, Harry was shaken when he remembered that with a thought he could open this gateway, a feat beyond all the magical folk on this world, and with another thought he could scour continents, turn mountains into fiery volcanos... end time.

On the other side of the gateway, in the foyer of the Australian Ministry with all its steel furniture and tinted windows, Ministry personnel stopped in shock as they looked back through the gateway and into the house - at Harry and the Twilight Guardians. Some froze, some screamed, some dropped whatever they were holding.

Harry ran ahead, issuing swift commands for the Twilight Guardians to follow him. They all had their missions inside the Ministry, were all supposed to secure a certain area. Alpha Squad was with Harry up to the top floor and the current Minister's office. Bravo, Charlie, and Delta were to take out the Aurors. Echo and Foxtrot were to secure the foyer.

Harry had walked through the entire Australian Ministry hidden in plain sight in a lower level of reality. He knew the layout, had sketched it for the Twilight Guardians, and knew he would need them if he was to secure the Aurors and stop them from abandoning the Ministry when he took it over. As painful as it could be, he needed fear to rule these men and women until Voldemort made his first move.

And he would, Harry knew. Voldemort would do something - and thousands would die, perhaps millions, for it. But you can't save everyone. Only then would the world see he was in the right... well, some would. You can't have all the cake, but if you're lucky you can get more than one slice.

Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living, Ethan whispered, as Harry stepped through the gateway.

Uncertain about what was going on, some people gaped when they recognised Harry - others began to run, which was wise. Harry stepped through, flanked by thirty men and women, and raised his glowing palms.

Arcs of fire raged from those deadly palms and spiralled through the air, scorching the ceiling and blazing across the windows. They were harmless to flesh, but very impressive - something to fear. His voice, magically amplified, boomed across the busy foyer.

"I AM HARRY POTTER!" he roared. The Twilight Guardians, all of them excellent marksmen (and markswomen) opened fire at those reaching for their wands. About ten had so far stepped past Harry and were heading down the left and right flanks. Another squad manoeuvred in front of him and two remained on his back whilst the gateway remained open. "I AM HARRY POTTER, THE LORD OF TWILIGHT! SURRENDER OR DIE!"

It was an empty threat, but they didn't know that. Also, the things being written about him in the newspapers made him sound very capable of cold-blooded murder. He was, in a way, and that terrified him.

Alpha and Bravo moved swiftly, almost like they were floating, in front of him, and the very air turned red with their barrage of stunning spheres being propelled from the weapons at an enormous rate. At the elevators at the end of the hall, Alpha moved away and Bravo entered the lift, accompanied by Charlie and Delta. It was their job to secure the Auror offices.

Intelligence, what Harry had counted the other day, said there were three hundred Aurors currently upstairs. Fifteen Twilight Guardians was more than enough. Unless the Aurors were quick with the Avada Kedavras.... Harry expected casualties of his forces, maybe....

Echo and Foxtrot, five men and five women, had moved behind the still open gateway and were firing at a gathering of Aurors around the main door of the Ministry. A large revolving door. The Aurors there had been fast, knocking over nearby desks and counters, creating sloppy barricades that protected them against the storm of stunners.

As Harry watched, and only about twenty five seconds had passed since he opened the gateway, one of the Guardians was knocked back ten feet or so by a bone breaking hex. Their armour repelled the actual spell, but not the force of it.

Alpha were, in a way, Harry's guards. Not that he needed any, but it made sense - and helped win the soldiers loyalty. Setting to work now, Harry began to mentally attack the buildings wards. Quickly, he created his own anti-apparation ward around the entire building, disabled the floo hubs and put up a Portkey Net.

A Portkey Net was something of his own making. It caught outgoing Portkey travel and stopped it. Caught it in a net and brought the user back to the point they left. No one was getting out. This would be a clean takeover, a renouncing of power and an assuming of one.

A lot of the civilians in the foyer were cowering and dodging fire anyway they could. Not many had drawn their wands and now not many could Apparate away. Some were unconscious, having run into the stunners; others were under desks, behind tables or counters. A few were just face down on the floor with their hands over their heads.

None were dead, and all of the Twilight Guardians were standing.

A rainbow of spells were centred on Harry as Alpha knelt around him, providing covering fire as he worked his magic against the Ministry wards. Raising his arms, he deflected the blue, red, yellow, purple, green, and white lights up into the roof of the foyer. When they struck, a large jagged crack rippled across the roof, showering down plaster onto those below.

"To the lifts," Harry whispered, but his voice was still amplified. Alpha heard him well and began to move off.

Harry just walked. As chaos reined around him and the last few Aurors and those civilians who'd put up a fight hid behind their cover, firing off an odd spell, Harry walked across the foyer like he owned the place and into one of the large open lifts. Similar to the elevators in the British Ministry, Alpha got in around him and closed the golden grille.

Three minutes, the target aimed for, was all it had taken for fifteen soldiers, plus Harry, to secure the foyer in the Australian Ministry of Magic. Further up in the building, Harry could hear the churning of the automatic rifles belonging to Bravo, Charlie and Delta. The Auror offices were under siege.

As planned, Alpha One hit the button for the ninth floor and the lift took off. Harry silently hoped that no one had died in the disaster strewn foyer. Once it was secure, the two squads, Echo and Foxtrot, were ordered to heal anyone they could the Muggle way. There should be no need, unless someone had gotten in the way of one of the Aurors' nastier spells.

"End of the hall, ten Auror guards," Harry repeated his instructions for the Minister's floor. With luck, the Aurors on other floors wouldn't know what had happened until the takeover was complete.

As they rose through the almost too quiet building in the lift, Harry felt a lot of people pushing against all of his wards. The anti-Apparation, the Portkey net, and the disabled floo outlets. None of them were going anywhere.

The lift grille opened onto a long corridor. One side looked out from a high rise over Canberra in a long line of tinted large windows. The floor was grey carpet, and another plaster wall ran along to the right with various doors and portraits along its length. At the end of the corridor, a set of ornate wooden doors stood barred with a squad of ten Aurors guarding it. They had heard him coming.

The lift opened and instantly Harry and the five Guardians were not in a safe place to be. The Aurors had a clear shot with whatever curses they wished. From his observations earlier in the week, Harry had learnt that these Aurors, the Minister's Guard, were given permission to kill - to use the Killing Curse.

At the sight of Harry, and five heavily armed Muggles, they did just that.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Ten curses, fired as soon as the grille was up down the empty corridor, which was about one hundred metres long. Harry and Alpha had prepared for this, had expected it.

Harry raised his right palm and fired a transparent shockwave of power at the large windows. They exploded, shattered outwards, and the five Guardians immediately engaged the hooks in the secondary barrel of their automatic weapons. Aiming at the floor, five identical small silver hooks were thrust into the ground with enough pressure to propel a cricket ball into orbit.

The hooks held, and a rope spiralled out from within the guns. The five members of Alpha jumped out of the open broken windows and into the air. They fell all of six feet before the ropes went taut and dangled from the window whilst Harry dealt with the Aurors.

Harry stepped forward to meet the Avada Kedavra curses. Out of his left eye he caught the black-armoured Twilight Guardians jump out of the window and as they did he crossed his arms across his chest and reached for the two glittering swords of Gryffindor.

They appeared, as always, with a shower of red and golden sparks. Harry was fairly high up above the city and a cool wind blew in through the window, messing up his hair and cloak.

Seven seconds had passed since the elevator grille opened, and it was then that the ten green Killing Curses descended upon Harry. A wall of death, and he stood against it.

Well... not stood. Harry knelt down on one knee and bowed his head, holding the two swords before him in a cross across his body. Whatever magic was in the swords had been enough, one hundred years ago, to split the Avada Kedavra curse in two. Harry and Ethan learnt that the hard way, but now it was perfect.

Seven of the ten curses missed Harry completely, going to his side or over his head, meant for the Twilight Guardians, but three of them did hit his glowing swords, and were split against those old and deadly blades.

One green curse hit the blades just where they crossed, and that was split into four different smaller streams. One went up before Harry, hit the ceiling and brought down small chunks of brick and plaster upon him. One part went down, eating through the floor and the remaining two pieces fled to his left and right.

The other two full curses hit the tips of his swords at the same time. Symmetrically, they veered away to the left and right. One flew out of the open window and another hit the wall on his right. Several portraits went up in flames. An inferno of icy heat washed over him, the fingers of death, and squeezed his heart. With a supreme effort of will, Harry fought it off.

The other seven full curses that had missed him impacted against the open elevator. It simply melted, exploded, fell away back down the shaft screaming and screeching the whole way. It left a trail of sparks that were hot enough to light the shaft on fire, the belt and the pulley chain. Most of the wall nearby disappeared in a cloud of dust that billowed out and veiled Harry from the ten Aurors' sight.

That's when he made his move.

Harry jumped, stepped once and was all the way down the corridor in a blur, having travelled close to the speed of light. The journey cushioned by magic. One millisecond he was standing one hundred metres away from the Auror force, and still in that same millisecond he stood before them with a cool grin.

Before the men and women had a chance to think, Harry disarmed them all with a thought and spun their wands back down the hall. Aurors were highly trained, and at the loss of their wands some made a dive for their secondary wands, hidden around their bodies.

Most of them did, anyway. A big bloke with hard eyes and arms like tree trunks took a swing at Harry. He broke his hand against Harry's jaw, around which a small shield just a millimetre thick rested. The man howled, and at that moment every one of the Aurors fell stunned to the ground.

A barrage of stunning spheres converged around Harry, and he turned to see Alpha back inside and on their feet. Three hundred stunning spells propelled the ten Aurors back into the door on which they were now slumped unceremoniously.

None of the stunners touched Harry. They came close, but never touched him.

And with that, the Ministry was basically his. A few small things remained to be done, but it had been almost pathetically easy. Ten minutes work.

Aware that quite a bit of damage had been inflicted upon the building, and from the sounds of things was still being inflicted below in the Auror offices, Harry merely flicked open the magically locked doors before him with a thought. He didn't act rashly and blast them off their hinges.

With the Alpha Guardians flanking him, Harry stepped through the clean and meticulous room on the other side of the doors - noted the desk and table, waiting chairs, and knew this was for the Minster's secretary, and that the Minister himself should be beyond the door ahead.

It was a simple door, like millions of others, and Harry knocked before entering. With a small smile playing around his lips, he entered the office of the Australian Minister for Magic. Five heavily armed Twilight Guardians followed him.

"Don't move, son!"

A lot had changed since Harry had entered the magical world on his eleventh birthday. A lot had changed the first year he was born. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to escape war, dodge fights, they always found him. Rarely a week went by these days when he wasn't caught in some titanic struggle for his life.

So it was then, as the Minister, flanked by a single Auror, gaped at him, that Harry disarmed the man with a thought and tossed the wand aside. There was really only one thing on this planet that could harm him - and that was Voldemort. Everything else was... good practice? No, wasted time? No... child's play.

That'd do.

Harry recognised the Minister from the International Confederation. He had been one of the first, after America, to deny him and his wisdom that day. One of the first to doom the world in order to keep peace for a little while longer. There was no excuse for that - none at all. Voldemort had done and killed enough to be considered a world threat.

"Good morning, Minister," Harry inclined his head. "Although I should say ex-Minister."

The man was of average height and was right now trying to meet eyes with Harry from around the side of his large desk. He had thinning grey hair and a moustache, greyish eyes and reminded Harry a lot of what he could remember of Cornelius Fudge.

The little Fudge-clone was red with rage. His real name was William Orison, and he had been Minister of Australia for the last three months. The previous Minister, a man who had given two hundred and fifty Aurors to England, was ousted after two hundred of those Aurors were slaughtered at Hogsmeade.

"Now see here!" Orison exclaimed. "You... you... you... you...."

"I, I, I, I, I'm taking over," Harry smiled. "As of right now you are no longer Minister of this country. I am."

Five rifles were pointed at the man and his wandless Auror from behind Harry, and Harry himself had sparks crackling across his eyes. Fear is a powerful tool, if used correctly. Harry didn't need these people to like him - they could hate him for all it would matter in the end, but as long as they feared him... well, it was one way to rule.

"You can either leave peacefully or in a box," Harry continued, his voice grim, eyes hard, fists clenched. "The Auror forces in this building have been disabled by my Twilight Guardians. No one has been killed, but that will change if you refuse to give up your office."

Harry waved his hand towards the fire place and for a moment green flames roared into existence. "This floo hub has been reactivated. Make the right choice and give up your power without giving up your life."

William Orison was ninety eight and had lived through several wars, had spent a career becoming Minister, and had, in the end, been swayed by the Americans and others into avoiding becoming caught in the war raging in the United Kingdom. It was also what gained him the office three months ago - promises to stay out of this Dark War. Now though, now....

Orison fled. He knew when he was beaten. No fighter, the man scurried to the floo casting fearful glances at Harry Potter and the Muggles he had brought with him. Muggles! This boy would reshape the world before he was done, Orison knew that much, and was more than a little relieved that now he would not have to worry about it.

Harry watched the ex-Minister disappear in an explosion of green flames. He didn't care where he went.

"Alpha One," Harry said when he was gone, turning his eyes onto the unarmed Auror who was standing behind the Minister's desk, arms crossed over his chest and unflinching. A hard man.

"Commander," the broad shoulder Alpha leader replied.

"Take your Guardians and do a sweep of the stairs floor by floor and bring me a report on any casualties - our side or theirs - and order everyone you find into the auditorium annex out of the foyer."

"Sir," Alpha One said, saluting before leading his team back out into the hallway. The elevator was, of course, so much scrap metal now. It would have to be the stairs.

When they were gone, Harry calmly gazed around what he supposed was now his office. All of the occupants of the portraits save a brave few had long since fled, and they were all of previous Ministers. A few muttered choice comments whilst Harry took in the room. A single desk looked out over Canberra from the three large panes of glass. From here Harry could see the Muggle parliament. He mused briefly over that before turning to the unarmed Auror.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The man didn't flinch. "Steven Cornwall, Deputy Minister and Head of the Auror Department."

Harry stood in his usual position. Standing tall with his hands clasped behind his back. He could taste magic on the air and almost see its weaves and residues. "Do you wish to keep your position for as long as I am in charge here?"

Cornwall gritted his teeth and smoothed his robes, staring intently at Harry. "I was in Hogsmeade on March 20^th," he said. "I saw you there... I know you saved as many Aurors, my Aurors, as you could. What are your reasons for doing what you have now done?"

"I'm sending Australia to war. There is no chance, whatsoever, of saving this world from Voldemort if all of our magical nations are not united as one front, under one leader."

"And you believe you have what it takes to do this? Lead so many to war? Forgive me, but you're a teenager."

Harry laughed. He instinctively liked this man. At least some people in the world still possessed a backbone. "I swear on my magic and on my life that I'm doing this for the world, and that I do have the experience needed to fight this war. I've been fighting it for a long, long time. There will be death, and blood, before the end, but I'll swear a Wizard's Oath, an Unbreakable Vow even, to do the best for the world."

The Auror blinked when Harry tossed him his wand back with a thought. "Something tells me not to doubt you, Potter... or should I say Minister?"

Harry shrugged. "Call me Harry."

*~*~*~*

One Hour Later

Several thousand people had been crammed into the large auditorium, used for press conferences, just through the large doors in the foyer opposite the lifts. Several thousand people sat in a daze as, for the first time in history, their Ministry had been taken over by a foreign force.

Harry surveyed the anxious crowd before him. Many looked dazed, an after effect of the stunners, some angry, others frightened - the majority seemed frightened - and it was at him they cast their fearful glances. Him and the fifteen Guardians behind him. The other fifteen were at the back of the room, silent sentinels holding enough firepower to quiet any unrest.

For a moment then, Harry felt unbelievably sad that everything had turned out this way. He thought that if everything went on like this for much longer, there would be no hope left to fight the future, to fight Voldemort. It wouldn't do if he killed Voldemort, only to take his place as the most feared wizard on the planet.

All he wanted, all he had ever wanted, was a normal life. Great men dream of such things - the mundane, the everyday, the normal. Harry dreamed of monsters, of Death itself, and of Twilight. Always of twilight.

He realised he had already begun to speak before his mind caught up with him. "I am now your Minister of Magic," he said to the silent crowd. "The previous Minister has abandoned his post and therefore his claim to the position. As I have assumed control of this building I am now the Minister. That is final, for now, for the war."

Steven Cornwall stood warily behind him. The man was pale, shock obviously holding him. He was fighting it though. Over the last hour Harry had come to an agreement with the man, an agreement sealed with a Wizard's Oath - a real one, sworn on magic. If Steven broke it his magic would leave him, die, and his body soon after. The same for Harry.

They would not break it.

As Deputy Minister, and Head of the Aurors, this man was everything he needed to control Australia whilst he turned his sights on to other... gains. Cornwall would act as Minister, under Harry's orders, and begin training more Aurors, sending them over to England, and keeping this country running. The Aurors would follow him - he was something of a legend, apparently. On the scale of Mad Eye Moody but without the paranoia.

"Life, for the most part," Harry continued, "will go on as normal. The workday is still nine to five," he said that with a smile, but the people seated before him seemed to nervous to laugh.

There had been a few broken bones but those had been quickly healed once the fighting was over. No one had died, thankfully, and every Auror had been given back their wand as a sign of good faith. Steven Cornwall had commanded them not to fight, that the previous Minister had indeed abandoned them (not that he'd had much choice) and that Harry Potter was in charge for now.

There were velvet drapes aligning the smooth white walls in the auditorium, all of them bearing the crest of the Australian Ministry. A native flower, wrapped around a silver wand. Harry raised his hands and, in between those banners and drapes, cast his own.

A resounding gasp echoed through the crowd as azure, the colour of twilight, drapes, marked with the Bleeding Rose, fell out of the air and joined their crest. Beyond the gasps, no one uttered a single word. To do so, the crowd thought, would mean death.

"I also want it to be known that Australia is now at war against the Dark Lord Voldemort," Harry continued. No one said anything. "Voldemort is the single greatest threat facing the world, and with his destruction I will renounce my position as Minister. I'm only here for the war...."

Thousands fidgeted in their seats, obviously not happy with being at war. The Aurors, seated in the front rows, nodded resignedly. Some had already fought against Voldemort, and Harry could see grim determination on those faces. It seemed they had already accepted his role now. A large part of that rough loyalty probably went to the fact that he hadn't killed anyone in his takeover.

Still, Ethan muttered, I think if someone was about to stab you in the back, none of these people would say a thing.

Harry agreed, and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder.

"From this moment on, Deputy Minister Steven Cornwall will be your acting-Minister. Any questions you have for me will go through him. Good day." He nodded to the thousands of Ministry employees and, with Cornwall, Apparated back up to the Minister's office.

The Twilight Guardians would stay behind to oversee the repairs and to make sure no one tried anything... stupid.

Harry collapsed into the minister's large leather chair with a sigh, running his neck in circles to work out a few aches. "How'd you think I went?" he asked Cornwall.

The Auror shrugged. "Who can say, Minister? It is too early. They fear you, certainly, and I think at the least we can expect a few assassination attempts."

Harry grinned. "I'd be insulted if there wasn't. But you'll need protection, as well. You're cooperating with me and that puts you on the 'To Kill' list of a lot of people."

Cornwall grinned and then seemed surprised that he had done so. Harry felt that he was a laid back kind of person - took life as it came. Loyal, cared for the Aurors under him. Harry had met his type before. Quiet, but not shy. Slow to anger but dangerous when he was. A man who would be found at the front lines of a battle, first to take a hit, last to drop. There were too few of those people in any world.

"I want you to begin the interrogations immediately," Harry said and Cornwall nodded. This was not part of their Oath, but it was the right course of action.

A full interrogation of every member of the Ministry. To uncover spies, Death Eaters or Death Eater supporters, dark wizards... anyone associated with anything like that. Harry expected to find a fair few.

"I'm authorising the use of Veritaserum. Any Death Eaters you find, any with the Mark, are to be executed," Harry continued, his voice hard and his eyes chips of stone. "Do you understand, Cornwall?"

Stephen Cornwall did, and was once again reminded that he was not dealing with an underage wizard here. There was a harsh, cold, and unforgiving monster buried in the scarred and insane Harry Potter. Merlin, Cornwall feared him like the rest.

"Inform me, use a Twilight Guardian - they have a way of contacting me - when the interrogation is complete. I've ordered these executions, so I'll watch them." It was, he thought, the least of his responsibility to this nation now.

But he could not feel sorry or regret for the Death Eaters who would die in the next few days. It was a war, a war on a greater scale than any knew save Harry, and those individuals with the Dark Mark had chosen a side when they let Voldemort brand them.

"How do you want it done?" Cornwall croaked. His voice wavered.

As hard as it was to say, Harry said it, "Find someone willing to be an executioner. Use gold or whatever," he mumbled, waving his hand absentmindedly. "The Vestic Curse should do the job."

You're a harder man than I, Ethan whispered. You're a harder man than any, Harry. Don't lose yourself over this.

Harry clenched his fists when they began to shake. He wasn't as hard as everyone thought, not by a long shot. He felt sick to his stomach. "Leave me," he whispered to the Deputy Minister. "Begin your interrogations. Make a thorough search for the Mark."

Harry was left alone, pale and scared of what he was capable of in that office of power. No doubt right now news was travelling all across the world that he had overthrown the Ministry. Voldemort would know of it, and it would make him pause for thought. Dumbledore would know, and Harry believed the old man would be disappointed, perhaps a little surprised.

None of them could see the truth, could possibly understand the truth. He was the Darkslayer, one of Existence's biggest jokes, he thought scornfully - hating himself. He did what had to be done, and had long ago been damned for it.

Survival of the fittest didn't count for much when you juggled entire universes.

But no, Harry sat there alone, thinking of Ginny, by God it was always Ginny. His last anchor to a life that had almost abandoned him, to a life he had destroyed - an innocent life, where his Godfather fell through a veil, where one of his worries had been his OWL results.

What would Ginny think about the executions?

What would Ron and Hermione think?

They were the three that mattered.

Alone with your thoughts, Harry, Ethan sighed. If you were not already clearly insane this could drive you mad....

Be quiet, Ethan, Harry growled. It came out as half anger, half plea. His strength had fled fast.

Harry had left the floo open in this office, closing it had slipped his mind after the previous Minister fled....

So it was Albus Dumbledore who found him some time later, head in his arms, silently cursing himself against the broad oak desk and fighting back tears. Dumbledore strode across the room silently; so far he had not made any noise, and calmly sat down opposite Harry - again without a sound.

The old Headmaster linked his hands before him and did not say anything as he studied the Boy Who Lived. His breathing was ragged and Dumbledore had the feeling that he was slouched forward on the desk as he was because of the great weight that was almost always pressing down on him.

"You didn't make an appointment to see the Minister," the raven-haired boy said, still not looking up.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. He should have known, after everything he had seen, that Harry had known he was here as soon as he arrived. "You seem tired, Harry," Dumbledore commented idly.

Harry sat up and Dumbledore bit his tongue when he saw the red rims surrounding the boy's eyes, the salty tears still floating on the emeralds and the haggardness of his face. He was pale, seemed a bit thin, and struggling to put the hard mask on his face that the world saw.

"Have you come to take me back to your Order?" Harry asked, his voice neutral.

Dumbledore raised his palms towards the ceiling and shrugged. "If you wish it, Harry, we can go. Molly is beside herself with worry, as is Remus. When they hear of this... I fear they may think you have turned Dark....?"

There was a hint of a question in the last that Harry noted. He scowled and leaned back in his chair, looking now every inch the powerful figure he was. "I miss them," he said, surprising Dumbledore. "But I'm Light, Professor, and I always will be. No one has died today in this Ministry."

Dumbledore showed no reaction to that but Harry could tell he was immensely relieved. "The international backlash from this is going to be monumental," he said. "You will be declared an enemy of freedom, a world threat."

Harry laughed harshly. "So they'll condemn me, their fucking saviour, but they won't lift a finger against Voldemort. I don't know what world they think we're living in, Dumbledore, but I'm sort of an expert on that. Does the fact that I went out of my way not to harm anyone today mean nothing?"

Harry was trying very hard not to lose his temper. He grasped the arms of his chair hard, could feel and hear the leather stretching, and his voice trembled with anger.

Dumbledore shrugged. "John Rafter, the American Sorcerer who was so vocal during your display at the International Confederation." There was the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye when he mentioned that. "He is adamant in his protest against dragging the world into a conflict against the Dark Lord. You, on the other hand, have shown mercy - this will be seen as weakness to kill by some, Harry, I'm afraid. It is just the way the world works."

"America...." Harry mumbled. "I'll be turning my attention there soon enough...."

Dumbledore sighed. "And what about us, Harry, the United Kingdom. Will you overthrow Arthur Weasley as well?"

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. His scar was burning - something he had yet to grow used to again. It itched now, more than burnt, but it would get worse. "I do..." he began. "I do what I have to do."

"Towards what end?"

"The end of a war."

The two men fell silent at that. Harry in his dark clothes, Dumbledore in his ever-vibrant robes. Two men who had and will change the world on opposite sides of a game board and yet working towards the same goal.

"I assume, Harry, it was you who removed the Grangers, and young Ron and Ginny from our protection. Again, Molly has been very upset with their disappearance."

Harry felt a pang of regret for that, but it would take a lot more to break him. If anything could break him this late in the Game.

"They're fine," was all he said about that.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm relieved to hear it."

"Is there anything else, sir?" Harry asked, standing up and moving over to the frosted glass liquor cabinet against the wall. He poured himself a glass of something - he wasn't sure what - but it burnt his throat quite satisfactorily on the way down. "Drink?"

"No, thank you," Dumbledore inclined his head. "I must confess, I did come here with the intent to bring you home."

Harry didn't turn as he poured himself another glass of this amber liquid. It wasn't Firewhiskey, but it wasn't half bad. He remembered a drink on a world a handful of years ago that had damn near blinded him for a week. Good stuff if you didn't need to look into natural light for a few days.

"I expected as much," Harry sighed. "I'm not going, Professor. This is my war now, and I'll fight it my own way."

Dumbledore was hesitant for a moment. "Yes... yes, I see that."

"Any other news from home?" he asked, returning to his seat.

Dumbledore nodded. "There has been an increase in Death Eater attacks all across the UK. We also believe that Voldemort is summoning Inferi to boost the number of his forces."

Harry frowned. "I'm not familiar with Inferi...."

Dumbledore sighed. "They are re-animated corpses, Harry - the dead returned to a sham of existence to serve Voldemort. Our best estimate is that he has raised five dozen Muggle cemeteries in the last week alone. That is seven thousand Inferi - seven thousand mindless loyal soldiers. If you encounter one, know that their weakness is fire."

As soon as Dumbledore began Harry had realised what Inferi were. He had encountered them before. Many times, in fact, but under different names. Zombies being the most prominent. The Undead another. The Living Dead, Axman, Fists, Scitars....

On one world, a powerful necromancer had summoned ten thousand corpses from a field of war and set them against Harry. He had destroyed them, but it was awful. The smell of decay was what he recalled the most about these creatures.

So Voldemort was commanding the dead now. This was a development, one that changed his plans. He needed an army himself, and fast. A force of Inferi could ravage continents if left unchecked. Especially a force this side, and there were plenty more recruits for the Dark Lord.

Bastard, Ethan breathed. Although I don't know why I'm surprised. He used Inferi in my world, but was only strong enough to summon a few dozen.

"There has also been a vigilante force combating Death Eaters and even a few Inferi," Dumbledore continued, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't me."

He recalled the article in the Prophet about a group of wizards and witches who had saved the life of a Wizengamot member. Maybe it would be in his interests to find these vigilantes... He could use more magical people to work on the crystals for his weapons.

"How are the Muggles reacting to the grave robbing?" Harry asked.

"Badly," Dumbledore sighed. "Arthur and the Muggle Prime Minister almost came to blows over it. Although something held the man back... I cannot imagine what. Our war is being hard to keep from the Muggles."

Harry made a mental note to see the Prime Minister before the week was out and explain what was happening, give him a report. He looked back up at Dumbledore and met his twinkling eyes stare for stare.

"I'm afraid I have to be getting on with today, sir," he said, making sure the dismissal was heard. Dumbledore rose calmly, but not before a shadow of displeasure had crossed his face. "I've..." Harry began. "I've enjoyed speaking with you again."

Dumbledore brightened and smiled warmly, like an elderly grandfather. He and Harry drew close near the fireplace and the old man put a hand on Harry's hard shoulder. "You've grown, my boy," he said, sighing yet again. "I hope this will be the start of quite a few talks between you and I."

Harry didn't trust himself to say anything so he just inclined his head and watched Dumbledore leave in a blaze of green flames. Once he was gone, Harry sealed the fireplace. He would loose all his wards before leaving, and he was leaving within the hour, but first he had to write out a few orders for Steven Cornwall and the other Department Heads he now commanded.

Gathering a scroll of parchment and inking a quill, Harry set to work.

*~*~*~*

One Hour Later

Four hours had past since Harry had left his friends floating in his pensieve, and it was there he found them still when he returned back to his manor house with five of the six Twilight Guardian squads. He had left Foxtrot as a personal bodyguard for the acting-Minister Stephen Cornwall.

Harry ran his fingers gently through the misty memory in the pensieve basin before stepping into it. He found his friends once again huddled together, and saw himself kneeling protectively next to Ginny's body in the memory. He was atop of Slytherin Fortress, just about to kill Voldemort and have Ethan fused into his mind.

Silently, Harry did not approach his friends yet but watched himself step over to the lifeless body of Ginny from another world. His Ginny, the real one, looked extremely pale but was managing. The other Ron and Hermione had died a memory or two ago and they seemed to be coping better.

In the memory the sky was twilight, almost always at these critical moments the sky was twilight. Fate or whatever decreed it so.

"You see the price of defiance now, Harry," the Dark Lord Voldemort hissed in the memory. A weaker Voldemort - compared to the real one this man was a pale shadow.

Harry watched his face harden to something cold, made of stone, and he watched the silent tears fall from his eyes. He remembered thinking at the time that he would have nothing left to cry about after this.

But it was Voldemort, as always it was twilight it was also Voldemort. Harry had crossed worlds and universes and no matter, the most painful moments in his life were always brought back to the hand of Voldemort. He couldn't escape them; mayhap he was doomed never even to have the chance to.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort screeched.

The Memory Harry was kneeling on the ground, face pain warped and not looking up at the incoming curse. Ginny, the real Ginny, screamed, "HARRY!" just as he stood up.

In the blink of an eye, as the first cold tendrils of the curse began to buffet him, Harry was on his feet, glittering sword in hand and a scream of power issuing from his mouth. Inches away, the green light split as the long blade defied it and blue raw power surged up the length of the precious metal, setting the sword alight.

The shards of the Killing Curse streamed past him and some even went right through his friends in the memory. They were harmless, nothing but thought, but Ron tried to jump out of the way.

The four of them watched the Memory Harry grin insanely and they all saw the anger on his face as Voldemort and Ethan raised their wands to kill him.

"We're all going down together," Memory Harry smiled, and then pointed the blade towards the marble at his feet. With a cry of strength and of building power, he thrust the blade into the stone of the fortress.

Behind his friends, Harry silently mouthed the same words. Even now he thought he looked so innocent - nothing like what he had become. His friends, too engrossed in the memory, still had not noticed he was there.

"Get him, Harry," Ron growled as the Memory Harry took a step forward, pulling the sword out of the stone as the entire fortress began to shake.

Ginny was crying, so was Hermione, as Harry thrust Ethan backwards with a wave of power and advanced on Voldemort.

"Die, you bastard," Harry growled, one moment before he thrust his flaming blade down into the Dark Lord's flesh - as he tried to get out of the way. There was a surge of power down the length of the blade, and then Voldemort exploded. One madman dead in a universe of madmen.

A few more moments went by in a haze of smoke and destruction, before Ethan crawled to his feet and spat, "Just die... POTTER!"

He charged at Harry, his hands balling into fists. Memory Harry saw him coming, clutching his wand so hard, and reacted mercilessly in the end. He rushed forward to meet Ethan, moving in a blur and impaling the Dark Lord's son upon the blade in his hand. Ethan screamed and an explosion of blood from his mouth covered Harry's face, as he drove him back against the wall - sword still in his stomach.

Fury and hate were replaced by confusion, a look of deep regret and, surprisingly, a gripping of his wand even harder than he already was. Memory Harry reminded himself that they had killed Ginny, a defenceless girl whom he couldn't help but love, and didn't remove the sword.

"This game's over for you," Harry said, the foundations of the fortress shaking underneath his feet.

Ethan scowled, and then, unbelievably, he laughed. "It will never be over, Potter. Not for you...."

Ethan fired the Killing Curse and Harry watched his pure magic leap to his defence and battle the green light. They melded together, fused, and then exploded. Ethan was incinerated; Harry was thrown back with light tendrils of Ethan himself already embedding themselves into his mind, where they would stay right up to this very day.

Harry screamed when that happened and his friends screamed along with him. He remembered the pain well, as Memory Harry writhed on the ground and the fortress crumbled beneath him.

Falling to his knees, Memory Harry cried at the top of his lungs, "IT WILL NEVER BE OVER!"

At this point, the ground beneath Memory Harry exploded and the four real people followed his descent through the twilight sky to the ground below as the fabric of the time pocket was torn apart, ripped to shreds, burnt out of Existence.

"Oh Harry...." Ginny wept, on her knees with Hermione. Ron didn't know what to do. He just stared at the crumpling world in disbelief as it faded to black. This was all that Harry could remember and so the memory ended here. Harry approached his friends as he did, and got down onto his heels next to them.

"I think that's enough for today," he whispered. They looked up, tear stained eyes and all, but didn't seem too surprised to see him. They all nodded, all wanted to leave this nightmare.

Harry had to help Ginny to her feet, and she clung to him strongly when they left the pensieve, floating up and back into the real world. She still held him strongly when they fell onto the chairs near the coffee table that the pensieve rested upon. She was shaking, her breath was warm against his neck, and biting back on tears.

"We had no idea...." she whispered. "Oh, Harry, how could we? It's awful. How did you make it home? What... what..."

"It's okay," Harry whispered, putting his arm around his back and running his hand in small circles around her shoulder. "Hey, it was just a memory. Nothing more now, over and done with."

Harry was not used to a person being so kind, so sensitive, so honest and innocent towards him. All of them had lost their innocence in certain ways, none more so than Harry, but at least his friends managed to hold on to a few tattered pieces.

"Just tell me...." Ginny whispered a few minutes later, when she had calmed down a bit. Her head was nestled into his shoulder, and Harry had been resting his cheek against her hair. He had almost fallen asleep right then, as tired as he was.

He noticed that Hermione was pushing Ron across the room, obviously to give the two of them a few moments alone.

"What?" he asked.

"Allarius," she whispered, her voice shaking. Sniffing, Ginny continued, "Did you... do you meet him again?"

Ginny felt every muscle in Harry's body tense at the question and that was her answer. She sighed, put her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat and listened quietly as he spoke...

"Ginny," he began. His voice was softer than she had been used to in the last few weeks. More like the Harry she had known before all of this had happened. "The memories in the pensieve they... they get a whole lot worse before they get better. There are wars, death, destruction, chaos... It took me a long time to get home, to get back here." Nervously, he added, "To you."

"How long?" she whispered.

"Too long," Harry dodged the question. She would have to see for herself. "Anyway, Allarius does some pretty terrible things before I kill him... a lot of terrible things, actually. I put those memories in there because you're strong enough to see them. Just know that what I did... in getting back here, home... fixed it all in all the worlds. I undid the damage."

Ginny was quiet for a moment. "I trust you, Harry," she said eventually.

"I never doubted that," Harry replied.

She sniffed again, but it seemed it was for the last time as she sat up and let him go, only to snuggle in closer again a moment later, draping one of her long legs over his. "What're we going to do with ourselves, Harry?" she asked him a moment later, tiredly. Her arms were wrapped around him, once again her head rested in the groove of his shoulder.

"How do you mean?" he asked, putting one of his arms around her, the other on her leg. He was slowing falling asleep, like that. He could sleep for hours just like that, with Ginny's comforting weight alongside.

"I mean I know pretty soon the war is going to start getting serious again, and I know you'll be in the thick of it..." She sounded close to tears again at that. "But we rarely have time together, you and I. Five minutes here and there isn't enough... It doesn't...." She was struggling for words. "It doesn't... feel right."

Harry blinked and really thought about that. He had learnt to trust his instincts a long time ago and right now they were sending him plenty of warning signals. "I'm not sure I understand--"

"I think," Ginny went on hurriedly. "That something bad will happen if we don't stay together. I really feel that way, Harry, I do. I've even had nightmares of you dying... more than usual... when I'm not there. I don't... I just...."

The sun, the warm Australian sun, filtered in through the window as it swam across the sky. The beams highlighted the dust particles in the air and Harry felt warm basking in it next to Ginny. A strange silence fell on their world, the two of them there, and for all Harry knew they were the only two people on the planet. If they were, he would not have cared.

"Then I guess...." he said after the long moment. "Then I guess we'll have to stick together then."

They fell asleep together there, and were undisturbed until the world descended into twilight. Harry Potter, the Hero of the Light, and Ginevra Weasley, the one being in all of Existence capable of breaking the Darkslayer. For she held his heart in her hands, they both knew it, and that scared Harry.

Not because he did not trust her - there was no one else he trusted or loved more. But he feared what his enemies would do to her when they knew that. If she were to die... Harry would fall, Existence would be denied and Creation damned.

It would be the end of everything, all for the love of her. A dangerous gamble, for love, but one Harry would never sacrifice.

*~*~*~*