Stormseeker: Unwanted Destiny

Chapter 11: Known Secrets

---

I opt not to get out of classes the next day, but I'm pretty tired even with a Wideye Potion. Not too tired to keep going, though.

"Grackles, Stormseeker?" Luna says to me at breakfast. "Both red and black ones?"

I frown a little. I haven't heard about grackles in quite some time. The invisible insect-like things that appear around a person when they have killed. Red ones for a violent death in combat, black ones for murder. Black ones for killing Bellatrix? But that didn't wind up actually happening. Strange.

"What's she on about now?" Draco says.

"What is she ever?" I say.

As breakfast ends, I catch Neville leaving the Gryffindor table and gently pull him aside. He seems quiet and haunted this morning, but reluctantly stops to speak with me.

"What is it, Harry?" Neville asks.

"You heard about last night, I take it," I say.

"How could I not?" Neville says. "It's all over the paper. Everyone's talking about it."

I lower my voice. "Rest easy, Neville. She'll get what's coming to her. One way or another."

"You know?" Neville murmurs, eyes widening.

I give a small nod. "I know. It's alright, Neville." I put my hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

"Thanks," Neville says.

We head along to class. I can't help but keep thinking about what we might have done differently last night. Should we have just evacuated the Aurors and let the Death Eaters take everyone they wanted without resistance? At least nobody would have died then, but it would set a bad precedent, I think.

Professor Malfoy comes up to me in Politics and jabs me with his cane. "It would behoove you, Mr. Potter, to pay attention in my class."

"Yes, sir," I say, straightening. "Sorry, sir."

"Tired, Mr. Potter?" Malfoy says. "Have a late night, did you?" He looks over to Cassie, who is trying to hide how sleepy she is as well, although she's less so than I am. "Was there an exciting Ravenclaw Halloween party last night? Or were the two of you up doing things you weren't supposed to?"

"Wait," Draco says. "Were you two snogging?"

I snort softly. Cassie is blushing. I put my face in my hands.

"Fine," Malfoy says. "Then why don't you demonstrate to us the ability to remain calm and smooth, and react to any situation that arises, regardless of your physical and mental condition? Mr. Potter! Miss Black! Up front!"

Cassie and I go to the front of the classroom obediently. Malfoy commands the class to bombard us with questions, accusations, demands. Cassie fares better than I do. I wind up stammering and staggering, nervous and weary. I'm most terrified about anything slipping that would connect us to Azkaban, but it seems everyone thinks Cassie and I were having a liaison instead. I don't care to try to dissuade them of that. In fact, I try to encourage it as much as I can without being obvious about it.

"Sit down, Mr. Potter, Miss Black," Malfoy says. "Five points from Ravenclaw for Potter's poor performance. Come and see me after class."

"Yes, sir," I mutter.

After class, I take a seat across from Professor Malfoy in his office, nervous, twitchy. He's not a Legilimens, so far as I know, and even if he were, he wouldn't be able to get through my Occlumency barriers. But I'm still really, really nervous. I wonder what the Dark Lord has told him about last night. Could he possibly connect anything to me? No, I must relax. Act normal. I was obviously snogging Cassie last night. Not defending Azkaban from Death Eaters.

"So, Mr. Potter," Malfoy says. "Is there anything you'd care to tell me about last night?"

"No, sir," I reply firmly.

"Nothing at all?" Malfoy says. "Nothing about your dear sweet Cassiopeia? Or perhaps you'd just like to take a nap?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business, sir," I say.

"It is precisely my business when it interferes with my classes," Malfoy says. "Especially given what happened at my Yule party last year."

"Oh, I thought we were pretending that didn't happen," I say absently. "I don't see what that has to do with your classes, either, though."

"You were sneaking around alone with Miss Black then also," Malfoy says.

I stare at him. Of all the things that happened that night, that is what he fixates on? "Yes, sir. What's your point?"

"Mr. Potter," Malfoy says. "Do you intend to marry Miss Black?"

My jaw drops in shock. "I-- I-- wait, what? Marry? But we're thirteen!"

"Traditional pureblood marriages have been arranged for at younger ages," Malfoy says. "Of course, you're both half-bloods. Still, you could certainly do worse. What does her father think of this?"

"I'm not a Legilimens," I reply. "And if I were, I certainly wouldn't go near the mind of Sirius Black."

Malfoy snickers softly. "Wise of you."

---

The Weasley Twins had been pretty subdued in their pranks last year, following Ginny's death. This year, however, following Halloween, they're back in full force, hitting the Slytherins especially hard. Hardly a day goes by that I don't see one Slytherin or another the victim of a prank of varying levels of maliciousness.

Theatre Club is putting on a rendition of "A Christmas Carol" this year. I'm a little surprised when I hear that it was written by a Muggle. I mean, not that Muggles are exactly inept or anything, but I wouldn't have expected them to know about ghosts and whatnot. Although perhaps I should be less surprised. They apparently made books and movies about my father and grandfather, after all.

Then, it's off for holiday. Caer Danas seems pretty crowded now. Even more members of the Order of the Phoenix have been staying here, with the breakout at Azkaban and all. But there gets to be a point when I just want some time to myself.

I slip out of Caer Danas, take on my adult form, and Apparate to Diagon Alley. This place is also crowded, full of people doing their Christmas shopping, milling about, both cheerful and worried. There's a tension in the air, holiday joy sullied by concern for the future and their safety. There haven't yet been any attacks on anyplace so public as Diagon Alley, and I don't know whether the Dark Lord and his forces are likely to do so. I can't say that these people are wrong to be so worried.

I shake my head a little, and head for Knockturn Alley. This part of wizarding London is darker and less crowded. I can appreciate being away from everyone for a little while. I make my way into a pub, looking for some firewhiskey.

As I'm sitting at a table working on my second firewhiskey, someone comes up behind me and says, "Hello, Lexen. Fancy seeing you here today."

I glance up to see Tom Riddle with his hair dyed blond. "Oh. Hello, Marvolo."

Tom takes a seat across from me. "Haven't seen you here in a while. Did I scare you off?"

"Been busy," I say, shrugging.

"So what brings you here today?" Tom asks.

"Eh," I say. "Had to get out for a bit. I've got entirely too many house guests at the moment, and they're driving me up the wall."

"Family?" Tom says.

"I wish they were all at least related to me," I say. "I don't even know some of these people. I had to get out before I murdered somebody."

Tom laughs softly. "What does it say about you for that to be a legitimate concern?"

I shrug again. "Probably nothing good."

"So," Tom says, lowering his voice and leaning across the table at me. "What were you doing in Azkaban on Halloween?"

So, he did recognize me there after all. Or at least, he recognized 'Lexen'. "Terrible lapse in judgment," I reply, downing my firewhiskey and gesturing for another one.

"You were with him," Tom says, scowling at me. "Does he realize what sort of person you are, Lexen?"

"Not really, no," I say.

"You wouldn't have to hide who you are with me, you know," Tom says. "I don't see why you even support him."

"I don't," I reply.

"Then why?" Tom asks.

I snort softly. "I'd really rather not go into it all right now."

Clumsily, I accidentally knock my glass of firewhiskey onto the floor, where it shatters. I grumble and pull out my wand, cleaning it up with a wave and a muttered spell. As I'm sitting upright again, Tom grabs my left wrist firmly.

"Left-handed," Tom says quietly. "And I recognize that wand." He reaches over and brushes my hair away from my forehead. "Hello, Harry Potter."

My heart leaps for a moment in panic. "So, you've found me out after all."

"Aging Potion?" Tom guesses. "Not much of a disguise, is it?"

"Neither is dying your hair," I comment.

"True," Tom says, still clenching my wrist in a vice-like grip. "So, that's why you wanted to kill me."

"No, not really," I say.

"Then why?" Tom asks.

"It's personal," I say, glaring at him, anger welling up inside of me. He tortured me, he controlled me and forced me to kill my friends, he killed me more than once. Perhaps not this him, but some version of him did these things to me.

"I see," Tom says. "Why don't we take this to a more private location to discuss further?" He grins at me darkly.

"No, I don't think so," I say.

Before he can do anything else, I rapidly force my age down until I wink out of existence.

---

I wake in my room in Caer Danas, and sigh. A cowardly move, perhaps, but there's no way I'm going to allow myself to be taken captive again. And best that he not find out anymore about me than he's already figured out.

"Dobby!" I snap.

Dobby appears before me. "Yes, Master Harry?"

"Bring me firewhiskey," I say. "A lot of firewhiskey."

"Right away, Master Harry!" Dobby says, vanishing with a pop.

Sometime later, after getting thoroughly drunk, Draco comes into my room and prods me with a foot.

"Harry!" Draco says. "You smell like a brewery. What have you been doing in here?"

I groan softly and peer up at Draco. "One Draco would have sufficed. You didn't need to bring your twin brothers, too."

Draco hauls me to my feet and sits me down in a chair. "Why are you drinking so much? You're thirteen!"

"Because it was better than using hallucinogens that make me see the Dark Lord," I reply.

"I'm not sure if that's much of an improvement," Draco says.

"Besides, I thought I locked that door," I say.

"I Alohomoraed it," Draco says.

"That's grammatically painful," I reply.

"Shut up," Draco says, smirking.

"And anyway, I was drinking in here because if I went out to get drunk in Knockturn Alley, I'd probably wind up getting captured by the Dark Lord," I say.

"I suppose that's sensible, by some twisted definition of sensible," Draco says. "What I want to know is why you felt the need to get drunk in the first place."

"I'm in a house full of people I don't know, who are making war plans over my holiday," I say. "And while I realize this is important and all, it rather leaves me without much of a holiday."

"I see," Draco says. "Well, I suppose that's understandable. Except for the fact that you're being utterly pathetic about it. Spending your holiday getting drunk isn't any better. Get your head out of the gutter already. What would Cassie think if she saw you like this?"

I sigh. "You're right. This is bad. I know."

"You aren't getting a hangover remedy, either," Draco says. "You're going to get a clear reminder of why you shouldn't do this."

"Fine," I mutter. "Fine. Just don't tell Cassie, alright?"

---

Another Christmas comes and goes, and between Draco and Cassie, I manage to have some fun and relax a little despite myself.

We've been invited over to a New Year's party at Terry Boot's place. I'm glad to accept. A much less obvious trap than the Malfoys' place, if it's a trap at all. Not that I won't still be paranoid anyway. Still, I'm going to make an effort to have fun and relax.

I haven't been to the Boots' place before. It's not nearly as upscale and spacious as some of the homes I've been in, but it's still pretty nice. The party mainly winds up consisting of several Ravenclaws playing games. I haven't heard of Boggle before, but it seems pretty fun.

"Gorilla! Right there!" Draco says, pointing at the board triumphantly.

Around eight o'clock, Dumbledore shows up, and I start to get a sinking feeling that something might have happened somewhere. After speaking briefly with Terry's parents, he comes over toward me.

"Harry, may I speak with you in private for a moment?" Dumbledore says.

"Of course," I say, following him off to a side room. "Did something happen?"

"The Grangers have been attacked," Dumbledore says.

"Oh, Merlin," I mutter. "Are they alright?"

Dumbledore shakes his head. "The parents, dead of the Killing Curse. Hermione... fared worse."

I feel sick. I haven't interacted with Hermione much in this life, but she deserves better than this. I put out a hand to steady myself against the wall.

"I know you may not know Hermione very well, but--" Dumbledore begins.

"I'll go," I say quickly. "I'll go back."

"Are you sure, my boy?" Dumbledore says.

"Absolutely," I say. "You always ask if I'm sure. But very often, trying to save a friend is the only thing I can be certain of. What time did the attack take place?"

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "We estimate that the Granger residence was attacked between noon and two o'clock. Good luck."

I'm doomed. My luck is never good. I sigh, and give a small nod, and age myself out of existence.

---

I wake in my room in Caer Danas. I'm glad I didn't sleep in today. I get up and get dressed, and send a Patronus off to Dumbledore asking him to come to Caer Danas to talk.

Dumbledore meets me in the main hall, where there's a couple other members of the Order up and about already. "Is something going to happen, Harry?"

I nod. "The Grangers are going to be attacked between around noon and two o'clock."

"Who?" Moody asks.

"They have a daughter in my year," I say. "But her parents don't have magic themselves."

"Damn Voldemort, targeting the Muggleborns," Moody says. "We'll stop him."

We set about to making preparations, gathering up the Order, and make our way to the Grangers' house well ahead of the time of the attack.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Granger asks in alarm.

"I'm the Headmaster of the school your daughter attends," Dumbledore says. "We've received information that your home is to be the target of an attack. We are here for your protection."

"Oh, my goodness," Mrs. Granger says. "Come on in, then."

The Order members conceal themselves about the house in order to ambush the Death Eaters. Cassie and I remain near Hermione, not bothering with any disguises. We're in Hermione's year anyway, so why shouldn't we visit her for the holidays?

"Why are they coming after me?" Hermione wonders.

"Because you're not 'pure' enough for them," I say, snorting in disgust. "Don't worry. We'll protect you with our lives if need be."

Then, as we're waiting for the time of the attack, the air suddenly gets very warm, and there's a roaring, unearthly sound. Flames burst through the walls and roof of the house, like living things in the shape of dragons, serpents, and demons.

"The house is on fire!" I exclaim.

"Not just any fire," Dumbledore says. "Fiendfyre!"

The Order members frantically try to put out the flames, to no avail as they die screaming, consumed by the Fiendfyre. The flaming monsters seem to chase around its victims, pouncing upon them and devouring them alive. It's not long before the demonic blaze takes me as well.

---

I wake with a gasp. Burning to death is never a pleasant way to go.

As I get up and reflexively get dressed, I think about what happened. Obviously, the Dark Lord was watching the house and knew we'd arrived, and trapped us inside with the Fiendfyre. So, instead of catching the Death Eaters in a trap, we wound up being caught in a trap ourselves. Well, that's just lovely.

I send a Patronus message to Dumbledore, and go into the main hall to slump into a cushy chair pensively and wait for him to arrive. I don't have to wait long.

"What is it, Harry?" Dumbledore says. "Is something about to happen?"

"The Dark Lord is planning an attack on the Grangers at about noon," I say distantly. "So we went to go protect them. And he engulfed the whole house in Fiendfyre and killed everyone."

I keep my emotions carefully in check. If I allow them to budge even a little, there's no way I'll be able to think this through logically and reasonably.

"Voldemort laid a trap for us?" Dumbledore says, frowning. "We will need to be cautious."

"We can't let him just kill innocents, though," Emmeline says.

"Of course not," Dumbledore says.

"We can set up positions around the house in disguise, and watch for any sign of dark activity," Moody says.

We quickly get everything set up, with Order members disguised as Muggles to casually walk through the area, or hiding nearby under Disillusionment spells. I Apparate Cassie and I directly into Hermione's house.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Granger says in startlement at our sudden appearance, dropping a book.

"Sorry," I say. "Didn't mean to startle you. We had to come directly in so that they wouldn't see us coming in from outside."

"What's going on?" Mrs. Granger asks.

Hermione pokes her head out of a hallway at the commotion. "Harry Potter? Cassie Black? What are you doing here?"

"We're here to protect you, Hermione," I say. "The Death Eaters are targeting you. We've got friends standing watch outside to back us up."

Hermione pales a little. "Why would they want to target me?"

"You're Muggleborn, Hermione," Cassie says. "That's reason enough."

It's strange how quickly Cassie dropped the whole blood purity thing. Well, she's a good actor, and she fell easily into her role as a half-blood. Whether or not she still thinks any such thing, she wouldn't dare say anything aloud and risk her cover being blown.

Soon enough, there are sounds of battle outside. The Obliviators are going to have a field day cleaning this up. Magical battles in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood. As curses fly outside of the house, Tom Riddle steps in through the front door and approaches us.

"Protego," Cassie murmurs, putting up a shield around us.

"Fancy seeing you here, Harry Potter," Tom says.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione cries. "Stupefy!"

Tom readily evades her attacks, and hurls her against a wall with a curse. "Foolish girl," Tom says. "You don't really think you stand a chance against me, do you?"

Where's Dumbledore? He's probably outside, fighting. We need him here. Damn it.

"Fulgoris!" I shout, shooting a bolt of lightning at Tom. It splashes against his shield and dissipates harmlessly.

"Potter," Tom says. "If you had come by yourself, I would have spared your friends. Now, they all will die."

Cassie and I exchange curses with him, and Hermione collects herself and tries to help as well. But Dumbledore is nowhere in sight, and even with three of us, the Dark Lord still outmatches us. A curse eventually brings me down.

---

I wake in Caer Danas, and rub my eyes tiredly. Too many more deaths, and I won't be able to keep at this. I pull out one of the Wideye Potions that Snape had supplied me with, and drink it down. It only helps a little, though. My real problem is magical exhaustion, and fighting hopeless duels doesn't help with that.

I get dressed, take on my adult form, and step outside. I Apparate to the street where the Grangers live, coming in behind a hedge out of sight. This is a terrible idea. What am I even doing? But I'm sick of leading people to their deaths.

"So, Lexen, I was wondering if you would come," Tom says, approaching from around the hedge, wand pointed at me. "Risking yourself for the sake of one Mudblood?"

"What do you want, Marvolo?" I say pointedly. "Or would you prefer 'Lord Voldemort'?"

"Ah, so you do know who I am," Tom says, grinning a little.

"I do," I say. "Killing one Mudblood seems pretty passe. What do you really want out of this?"

"I was hoping to kill you and anyone you brought with you, of course," Tom says. "Dumbledore would have been a fine prize."

"I came alone," I say. "Going to kill me now?"

"Not just now, I don't think," Tom says. "I've a few questions for you first."

"Ask," I say.

"How did you know I was here?" Tom says. "I've been watching this house, by myself, for several days, and haven't told anyone that I was doing so, not even my inner circle of Death Eaters. I was considering going in and killing them already and getting it out of the way already, and then you show up. Funny, that."

"I have my ways," I say vaguely.

"Afraid to come out and say it?" Tom says, smirking. "I doubt you're a Seer. I've never heard of a Seer that had seemed to have such clear foresight as you. But perhaps you're simply better at it than that hack, Trelawny. Or perhaps you're using time travel instead, hmm?"

I blanch. Was it that easy to figure out? I've been tipping my hand, giving away the fact that I have future knowledge.

"So, is this the power that I supposedly know not?" Tom says. "Harry Potter?" He grins at me.

I sigh. So there hadn't been any point in me killing myself back in Knockturn Alley before. He'd already figured it out, anyway. "Yes," I say. "I am a time traveler."

"And I'm also guessing that you've found some route to immortality," Tom says. "You put yourself in harm's way, showing not the slightest fear of being killed, despite knowing that you do not have the skill to match me yourself. So, how did you do it?"

"I go back in time when I die," I say. "I didn't do anything for that. I was born with that power."

"I see," Tom says. "Your cooperation has bought your friends' lives. Now, there's one more thing I want to know. Why are you supporting Dumbledore?"

"I'm not," I say.

"No?" Tom says. "Then why were you at his side in Azkaban? Why did he come to your aid at the Yule party at Malfoy Manor?"

"Because I asked him to," I say. "He's not the one in control anymore. I made him bend to what I wanted."

"How did you accomplish that?" Tom asks in amusement.

"A bit of blackmail, and a bit more of goals coinciding, if for entirely different reasons," I say.

"And what are your goals?" Tom asks.

"At the moment, primarily learning," I say. "But I can't abide by anything unfortunate happening to anyone I care about. And if you start up the crap you were doing in the last war, I'm obligated to try to stop you."

Tom gives a nod. "Very well. You have bought your freedom, today."

"You're not going to kill me?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"I see no point in it," Tom says. "Oh, and don't bother trying to kill yourself in hopes of making me forget this conversation. I've had my suspicions about you for some time, and this only has confirmed it. And if you don't come here, this Mudblood will die. And if you come with friends, all of them will die."

I make a face. "Understood."

"I'll give you fair warning," Tom says. "Don't interfere with my plans, and I will leave you be, for now. But if you do, I will find a way to make you regret crossing me."

I give a nod. Tom Apparates away, leaving me standing there behind the Muggle hedge, heart pounding in my chest. I focus on Caer Danas, and Apparate away. I don't want to splinch myself after all that. And I'm certainly not going to admit to Dumbledore that I had this encounter.

I stagger into my room, and throw a Locking Charm at the door. I slump down into the chair, trembling, shaking. He knows. He doesn't quite know everything, but he knows enough to make life positively abyssal for me.

"Dobby!" I call out, and the house-elf appears in front of me with a pop. "Firewhiskey!"