Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

"Ah, Harry," Lucius says. "There's some people here who wish to speak with you regarding the New Year's incident. How are you feeling?"

"Conscious," I reply with a crooked grin. "I'm fine and alert. Go ahead and send them in. I'll speak with them."

Lucius leaves the room, and then a woman and two men come inside. "Greetings, Mr. Potter," says the woman. "I am Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I wish this meeting could have been under better circumstances."

"Am I under arrest, Madam Bones?" I ask.

"Not at this time, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones says. "Normally, we would ask you to come in for a hearing, but Mr. Malfoy convinced us to come here instead, since you are wounded. I merely wish to ask you a few questions regarding the death of one Mr. Yaxley."

"I'll answer as best as I can," I reply.

"Please describe what happened that night, in your own words," Madam Bones says.

"I was attending the Malfoys' New Year's Eve party," I say. "I got tired of the crowd and went out onto the balcony for a bit of fresh air. Then, Yaxley came out and started ranting about how the Dark Lord would reward him well for killing me. We jumped off the balcony and started exchanging spells -- I caught a couple curses myself, but thankfully I dodged most of them. Then I used a Severing Charm to drop a tree limb onto his head, and took advantage of that to turn the battle in my favor."

One of the men Amelia Bones brought with her is taking notes with a quill as I talk. "I see," Madam Bones says. "Where is your wand? I must examine it."

"Here," I say, pointing to the stand beside the bed.

Madam Bones picks up the wand and says, "I must check which spells you have performed recently." The spells seem to come out of the end of my wand in reverse order, and I identify them one by one as they emerge. Scourgify, Thermos, Petrificus Totalus, Accio, Petrificus Totalus, Expelliarmus, Diffindo, Flipendo, Tentacula Tenebrae, Wingardium Leviosa, Expelliarmus, Thermos... and then a long string of failed Patronus Charms.

"Dark Tendrils Curse?" Madam Bones says. "Where did you learn that?"

"From a book..." I say vaguely.

"No matter," Madam Bones says. "It's unusual and a bit questionable, but not illegal. I would advise you to stay away from delving too deeply into dark magic, however."

"Of course, ma'am," I agree insincerely.

"Did anyone witness the fight between you and Yaxley?" Madam Bones asks.

"I don't think so," I say. "All of the guests were inside, so far as I know. It was awfully cold that night, and snowing intermittantly."

"You must have been very lucky to have been capable of taking down an experienced wizard such as Yaxley at your age," Madam Bones says. "Although your spell repertoire shows skill above your grade. You must have been putting a lot of effort into your studies."

"Yes, ma'am," I say. "I've got to become the best wizard I can be. I don't want to meet the same fate as my parents."

"That's understandable," Madam Bones says. "Some, however, believe that you should be taken in and questioned under Veratiserum regarding the matter."

I groan inwardly at the suggestion. Veratiserum is the last thing I want to have to deal with. What if they ask the wrong questions and I say more than I mean to? What if they find out my secrets? What if they find out about the dagger?

"However, I do not believe that should prove necessary," Madam Bones. "Tell me, Mr. Potter. Do you remember what the last thing Yaxley attempted to cast at you was?"

I nod. "The Killing Curse," I reply. "I was fortunately able to disarm him at that point because he decided to stop and proclaim how he was going to kill me, rather than merely attempting to kill me instead."

Madam Bones nods. "I already performed a Prior Incantato on Yaxley's wand, and it matches up to your story. He cast quite a number of nasty curses, including several illegal ones, plus an Unforgiveable Curse. The evidence seems pretty clear that you were merely defending yourself. However, I must ask, if you had him disarmed and helpless, why did you not simply disable him rather than kill him? Why didn't you cast a Stunning Spell or something at him?"

"I don't know the Stunning Spell," I reply.

"I see," Madam Bones says. "Understandable. But was there nothing else you could think to do?"

I shake my head. "No. He was resisting my Petrificus Totalus, it only even held him for a few seconds before he could talk again, and then he started talking about what he was going to do to me when he could move his arm and grab his wand again. Taunting me, saying that he would torture me to death, bragging about the horrible things he did as a Death Eater... All I could think was that, given the chance, he would kill me horribly. I didn't want to give him the chance."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones says. "Very well, I think we have what we came for now. I see no reason to question you further on this matter at this time. I wish you a speedy recovery and a happy New Year."

"Thank you, Madam Bones," I tell her as they leave the room.

Lucius returns to the room a few minutes later. "I trust things went well?" he says. "They aren't hauling you off to Azkaban, so I take it this informal hearing didn't go too badly."

"It was pretty obviously self-defense," I say. "Although she did give me a bit of a lecture about using dark magic. How many spells back does Prior Incantato show, anyway?"

"Forty-nine spells," Lucius says.

"Seriously?" I say. "Ugh! That's bullshit."

"There are ways to clear it, however. But a cleared wand looks awfully suspicious. It's merely preferable to being caught with actual evidence of having done something illegal. Alternatively, some wizards use multiple wands."

I'm now making mental notes on how to get away with murder. If it should ever become necessary, that is.

"I don't like this Department of Magical Law Enforcement poking their noses into everything," I mutter. "Why can't we all just settle everything with honor duels? Things would be so much simpler and less obnoxious."

Lucius chuckles softly. "Indeed. But don't worry about them for now. If they want to bother you again, I'll try to keep them off your back."

I glance at him. "Did you tell them about the dagger?" I ask.

Lucius shakes his head. "Certainly not," he replies. "I have enough artifacts of a questionable nature in this manor as it is, and thankfully they only wished to speak with you rather than look around more. I didn't need to give them reason to investigate further into the case."

"Good," I say. "I want to see it."

"Harry..." Lucius says.

"What?" I snap, looking at him sharply.

"We did a thorough analysis of the weapon," Lucius says.

"And?" I press.

"It would appear that you performed a blood sacrifice during the hour of midnight on New Year's Eve," Lucius says. "The dagger was designed to store magical energy, and this generated quite a bit of magical energy that it now contains, waiting to be used."

I blink at him. I did what now?

"I'm certain that you were feigning ignorance, and in fact, knew of this beforehand, perhaps even lured Yaxley out in order to kill him for just that purpose," Lucius says. As I open my mouth to protest, he raises his hand and shakes his head. "No, I will not dispute your choice in targets. I was never particularly fond of him, regardless. I'll retrieve the dagger for you when you wish to utilize it. May I ask what you intended to do with this energy?"

My head whirls. Alright, I can't exactly tell him that I somehow managed to perform a blood sacrifice accidentally. "I need to sneak it into Hogwarts," I say quietly. Yes, let him think that I have some vague, nefarious plan. I'll just have to figure out what that nefarious plan is later.

"Of course," Lucius says. "I'll prepare some charms to mask its presence for you, so that it won't be discovered."

"Good," I murmur. "I need rest."

Lucius nods and leaves me alone in the room. Once he's gone, I let out a ragged sigh and rub my temples. I just can't shake the horrible feeling of dread that this is all going to come crashing down spectacularly, and I just keep digging myself in deeper.

The next week, I'm back in Hogwarts with the other students. My leg is still sore, and I have a bit of a limp when I walk, but at least I'm recovering. I have to wonder if it might not have been preferable to have just died, rather than taking a permanent injury in the process. No, that's a silly train of thought. I survived. I not only survived, but I won. And that's something I should feel good about. No matter what the consequences.

By this point, however, the rumors have already managed to escalate to the point where I apparently spent my Christmas holiday single-handedly wiping out an army of Death Eaters. And a dragon, for some reason. They're already calling me the Boy-Who-Killed.

Naturally, Dumbledore calls me to his office immediately after dinner on the day we return to Hogwarts. All things considered, I'm a little surprised that he didn't find an opportunity to talk to me before I came back. Maybe he just didn't want to visit Malfoy Manor.

"Stormseeker, I am disturbed by these reports I have received," Dumbledore tells me. "Am I to understand that you killed someone over the holiday?"

"Yes, Headmaster," I reply. "A 'former' Death Eater who tried to murder me."

"I see, of course," Dumbledore says. "Did you have any trouble with the DMLE?"

"They seem to have decided that it was a clear case of self-defense," I say.

"They didn't question you with Veratiserum, did they?" Dumbledore asks.

"No," I reply.

"Understandably, you being questioned under Veratiserum is something that must be avoided at all costs," Dumbledore says.

"Indeed," I say.

"If you ever wind up in a situation where it seems like they're going to force you to do so, you need to mention my name and wait for them to contact me to intervene," Dumbledore says.

"Yes, sir," I say. "I was covered this time, though. Lucius Malfoy was looking out for me."

"I'm almost as disturbed by that as I am regarding the reports about you killing someone," Dumbledore says.

"Don't worry," I say. "He may be on my side for now, but I know that position could change on a moment's notice. I may not be able to keep him as an ally much longer. I'll have to see what I can do."

Dumbledore nods, and says, "Regarding Yaxley's attempt on your life. Do you think Voldemort might have set this up?"

"I don't know," I reply. "He did say something about the Dark Lord rewarding him for it. Have you noticed any odd behavior from Quirrell? I mean, odder than usual, that is."

"I have not, but then, he's been keeping to himself for the most part," Dumbledore says.

"I'll have to see what he says when I see him next, then," I say.

"Be careful, Lexen," Dumbledore warns me.

"Relax," I say, smiling at him reassuringly. "I'm used to being in life-threatening situations."

"You are far too cavalier regarding your own well-being, my dear boy," Dumbledore says.

"Perhaps not so much as you fear," I say. "Do you know how many times I died fighting Yaxley? None."

"You were most fortunate," Dumbledore says.

"I don't believe in luck," I say. "So many times that I've died, I just kind of gave up, and didn't even bother trying to avoid it. But this time, I decided to fight with everything I had. I figured that I would probably still die anyway, but at least I was going to go down fighting."

"Just be careful that you do not allow one victory to go to your head," Dumbledore says. "There are few things more dangerous than overconfidence."

I nod. "I'll take your point to heart. And I suppose it's also true that I have been reckless at times. But I've learned not to throw my lives away casually."

"So, Harry," Hermione says at breakfast the next morning. "Care to tell us what really happened over your holiday?"

"What, don't believe the rumors?" I say, snickering softly.

"I find it hard to believe that you killed even one Death Eater, never mind an army of them. And two dozen Dementors, and a dragon."

"What, it's still only at one dragon?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "That's nonsense, anyway. I'd never kill a dragon."

"I wouldn't believe anything the Slytherins say, anyway," Ron says acidly. "It's all probably just hero worship on the part of the little dark wizards in training."

"Anyway," I say. "What really happened is that one Death Eater tried to kill me. And I did kill him. By dropping a tree limb on his head with a Severing Charm."

"So you got lucky, in other words," Ron says.

"It's not luck," I say. "It's called using the environment for a tactical advantage."

"Whatever," Ron says.

"But still," Hermione says. "You really killed someone?"

"It was self-defense," I say. "He was trying to kill me first."

I think, the next time I kill someone, I need to make it a little less public. What a mess. Half of the school seems terrified of me, and the other half in awe. This is going to be an interesting term. I just hope that things eventually calm down a bit.

Professor Quirrell calls me into his office after dinner. Not an entirely unexpected development, but one I'm not particularly looking forward to, nonetheless. I put on a calm, controlled mask and stride into the Defense office.

"Ah, good evening, Potter," Quirrell says to me pleasantly. "I hear you made your first kill over the holiday. Congratulations are in order, I believe."

That's not exactly the sort of reaction I was expecting. "Thank you, sir," I reply.

"So, what happened?" Quirrell says excitedly. "Tell me all about it! Did your heart pound in your chest when you realized your had your foe in your power? Did you savor the rush when his lifeblood poured out of his body?"

He's not even pretending not to be evil now. "I think I need to learn more spells," I say neutrally.

"Of course, of course, my boy," Quirrell says. "We'll get back on our regular schedule again. There are so many things that I am dying to teach you."

"I would like that, yes," I say.

"So tell me, how did you kill him?" Quirrell asks.

"I dropped a tree branch on his head," I say for probably the hundredth time today.

"And that's it?" Quirrell says. "That was enough to kill him?"

"No," I say. "After that, I disarmed him, hit him with a Full Body-Bind Curse, and then cut his throat."

"Ah, such a clever display of skill from my favorite pupil!" Quirrell says.

I think I would prefer the useless, stuttering Quirrell. He was less creepy. "I didn't even think to use the Lightning Curse," I say. "And I ended up wounded as well. A victory, but not a flawless one."

"Still, at your age, that is quite the accomplishment," Quirrell says.

The announcement of a Dueling Club starting up comes the next day, met by murmurs of excitement among the students. At least it's enough to distract them from talking about me for a change. And with Lockhart not around at the moment, it might even not be a complete disaster.

There's quite the turnout at the first meeting on Saturday. Professor Snape comes up onto the stage and says, "Welcome to the first meeting of the new Hogwarts Dueling Club. In addition to my normal duties as Potions Master, I will be presiding over this club."

I applaud. A number of the Slytherins join in. The Gryffindors just look at me strangely. I'm used to that, though.

"First, I'd like to give a little demonstration of how a proper wizard's duel goes," Snape says. "Potter, since you're such a fan, would come up and assist me?"

"Yes, sir," I say, heading up onto the stage across from him. So much for attention being diverted away from me for the moment.

"Who will face Potter?" Snape says, looking across the crowd. "Who will go up against him? How about you, Weasley?"

"Not a chance in hell," Ron retorts.

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cowardice," Snape says. "Get up here, Weasley."

"Fine," Ron spits, stalking up to the stage. "Just remember to stick to non-lethal spells, Potter."

Snape sneers. "Now, face one another, and bow, yes, just like that, Potter," Snape says. "And then begin on the count of three."

Once Snape signals us to begin, Ron casts, "Flipendo!" A bolt of blue energy flies out of his wand toward me.

I sidestep Ron's Knockback Jinx, and snap off, "Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!" Ron's wand goes flying out of his hand, and before he even has a chance to react to that, his limbs snap together and he topples over like a board.

"And Potter wins," Snape says. "An apt demonstration. Weasley attempted to cast the Knockback Jinx, but Potter dodged -- a vital skill in dueling. Potter responded with a Disarming Charm followed by a Full Body-Bind Curse, disabling his opponent."

Only after detailing the rundown of the fight does Snape even bother to go over and dispel my curse upon Ron. I have to give a small snicker at that.

"We haven't even learned those spells yet!" Ron protests.

"Five points from Gryffindor for whinging," Snape says.

"Maybe if you spent more time actually practicing your spells rather than playing Exploding Snap in the common room," I say.

"Now, I want you all to pair off and practice casting the Knockback Jinx at one another, and dodging," Snape says. "None of you should be getting hit with that."

As we pair up, everyone seems to shy away from being my partner. Then Neville pipes up with, "I'll pair off with you, Harry."

I chuckle softly. "Good on you, Neville," I say. "Push yourself to succeed, and you will go far in life."

Neville has trouble even casting the spell at first, but he soon improves with my encouragement. With the dodging, I'm going easy on him, giving him plenty of opportunity to see my spells coming at first. As the session progresses, we're snapping off spells faster and faster, and breaking a sweat at the exercise. My leg is aching terribly by this point, and my reflexes are slowing down.

Then, one of Neville's spells strikes a glancing blow on me, sending me spinning and tumbling into the floor. The room goes quiet as everyone turns to look. "Good job, Neville," I say, chuckling and climbing to my feet with a small grin. "Very good."

"The Boy-Who-Knocked-Back!" exclaim several people.

"Alright, that's just getting ridiculous now," I say, laughing aloud. I go over and clap Neville on the shoulder, and in passing I say, "If you don't mind, I think I'll sit the rest of this one out."

"You're limping, Harry," Neville says.

I nod. "Leg's hurting me. But it's alright. Don't be afraid to take whatever advantages you can get in a fight. You did great today."

"Thanks," Neville says. "Are you sure you'll be okay? I didn't mean to actually hurt you or anything."

"I'm fine, really," I say. "You didn't hurt me. I just haven't quite fully recovered from the injury I took over holiday. I'll go have Snape take a look at it and maybe give me a potion, alright?"

"Just be sure he doesn't poison you," Neville says.

I smirk. "He won't," I assure him, and limp off over toward where Snape is watching the students.

"Your wound acting up again?" Snape asks.

I nod. "Figured it would be best to take a break," I say. "I don't want to push it too much."

"Sit," Snape says, pulling a potion out of somewhere and handing it over to me. "And drink this."

I obediently take a seat beside him and drain the vial of its foul-tasting liquid. "Thank you, sir," I murmur.

"I hear it was you who was responsible for suggesting this club," Snape says.

I nod. "And I'm glad that it's you directing it, and not someone like Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Who?" Snape says. "Oh, is that the bloke all the witches are swooning over who supposedly vanquished a number of monsters?"

"Yeah," I say. "Such a joke. As you might have guessed, I doubt that he actually did anything that his books claim that he did. Sadly, Dumbledore is likely to want to hire him as a Defense professor."

Snape makes a face. "Quirrell was a pleasant surprise, at least," he says.

"Not really," I say. "Did Dumbledore tell you about him?"

"What about him?" Snape wonders.

I snort softly. "I'll take that as a no," I say. I wave my wand and mutter, "Muffliato."

Snape raises an eyebrow at me. "The fact that you even know that spell is more proof that you were a close associate of mine in another life than any memory you offered."

"Well, I did learn it from you," I say.

"Yes, I created that spell," Snape says.

"It's very useful," I say. "Anyway. Quirrell's possessed by the Dark Lord."

"He what?" Snape says.

"Yep," I say. "He's looking for a way to get resurrected."

"And Dumbledore did not see fit to warn the teachers of this, not even me," Snape says. "Typical."

"That's Dumbledore for you," I say. "Anyway, I've been keeping a close eye on Quirrell, myself. He's been behaving radically differently than before. Last time, he feigned incompetence to make everyone underestimate him. Now, I don't know what he's playing at. I'm wary of this."

"I will watch him carefully as well," Snape says.

"I'd honestly rather trust you than Dumbledore, but Dumbledore didn't think you 'needed to know'," I say. "I'm not going to rely on his judgment calls, however. I didn't even tell him everything."

"Is Quirrell an immediate danger?" Snape asks.

"I don't think so," I say. "Not to anyone but me, at any rate, and I can handle myself if need be."

"Yaxley," Snape says. "Did he have anything to do with Yaxley?"

"I don't know," I say. "It's possible."

"Don't tell me you snuck the dagger into the school anyway, did you?" Snape asks. "You did, didn't you. Haven't you considered that that might be exactly what he wanted you to do?"

"That's ridiculous," I say. "That sort of plan would have required Yaxley to lose. I'm not going to assume that the Dark Lord is capable of playing a bizarre, omniscient roulette, employing absurd gambits within gambits that allow him to win even if he loses."

"Perhaps it would be best to err on the side of paranoia," Snape says. "What did you intend to do with the thing, anyway?"

"Nothing, right now," I say. "But maybe you're right about the paranoia. I'll drive myself mad quick doing that, though, I think."

"Better mad than dead?" Snape says.

"Eh, it's alright," I say. "I think I'm already quite mad anyway."