Stormseeker: Unwanted Destiny

The next morning at breakfast, a raven Patronus flies into the room and speaks in Cassie's voice. "Harry? Dumbledore said you were hidden somewhere safe and not to look for you. But I know you, and I think you just ran off to get away from everyone around here. And especially not to hide from me. Where are you? I'm alone right now. You can reply safely."

I grin at her, and summon my duck patronus. "Tell Cassie I'm at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place." The duck obediently darts away into nothing.

I finish eating, and head out into the entry hallway, where Cassie is currently talking to Walburga Black's portrait.

"Ah, there you are, Harry," Cassie says, smiling at me and coming over to give me a hug. "I just finished explaining to my niece that I'm not actually the bastard half-blood daughter of a blood traitor, no matter what I look like."

"I'm sure that went over well," I say, smirking. I wave to Walburga and head back down the corridor. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

Cassie shakes her head. "There were too many people around. Dobby can't keep up with them all."

"Kreacher," I say, poking my head into the kitchen. "Would you kindly get some breakfast for Cassie, too? We've got an actual Black staying here now." I grin.

Kreacher perks up immediately, and says, "Right away!"

Cassie settles in readily enough, and I'm happy to have her here. And I realize that I'm actually happy for the first time in quite a while. I can actually relax, and don't need to think about all the bad things that have plagued this life.

Cassie claims Regulus's old room, while I'm staying in Sirius's. Kreacher diligently works on cleaning up the house, pleased to no end that a pureblood Black is living here again.

"It's been a long time since I've been in this house," Cassie says. "I do occasionally miss France, though. But I think I was there too long."

"I miss Master Regulus," Kreacher says quietly.

"Whatever happened to Regulus, anyway?" Cassie wonders.

"He died, years ago," Kreacher says. "Gone... And poor Kreacher could not even fulfill his last order." Kreacher hangs his head in despair.

"What did he order you to do?" Cassie asks.

Kreacher goes over and shows us a glass cabinet in the drawing room, and points in at a locket marked with a snake-like green S. "Master Regulus ordered loyal Kreacher to find a way to destroy that locket. But Kreacher could not do it. Brave Master Regulus died for this trinket... it must have been very important."

I frown a little. "It looks very Slytherin. I wonder if it belonged to Salazar himself?"

"Could be," Cassie says, looking it over carefully but not touching it. "But then why would Regulus want it destroyed that badly? I don't understand."

"Kreacher doesn't know," the house-elf says. "Master Regulus just gave the order. He did not explain it. Is there, perhaps, some way that Mistress Cassie might be willing to help poor Kreacher carry out his master's last orders?" Kreacher looks at her pleadingly.

"I'll see about doing some research," Cassie says. "But I just might be able to."

Kreacher beams brightly. "Wonderful!"

July 31st. Harry Potter's birthday. I'll celebrate it like my own, since I really can't be bothered to calculate when my actual chronological birthday might be anymore. I know that I'm approximately twenty-five years old. That's close enough for me.

Draco is over to visit for a small, private party. Kreacher has made me a lovely, rich chocolate cake, with the words "Happy Birthday" written in blue letters. Owls have brought presents from all of my friends.

"That looks delicious," Cassie says, smiling.

"It is delicious," I say as I take a bite. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Kreacher."

As I eat my cake, a silvery phoenix Patronus appears in the room. "Headquarters under attack," says Dumbledore's voice. "Secret is exposed. Stay away. Not safe anymore. I don't know what happened. Fiendfyre!? Go back! Go back, save us!"

There's a clatter as Cassie drops her fork, gaping at the spot where the Patronus was, stunned speechless.

"Oh, Merlin," I utter.

"Harry..." Cassie whispers.

"I've got to go," I murmur. "I can't-- I can't just let this stand..."

Cassie grabs my wrist and says intently, "Harry..."

"I'm sorry, Cassie," I whisper. "You know I'd take you with me if I could." I lean over and give her a soft kiss. "It's up to you now..."

"I'll... I'll do what I can," Cassie says.

I smile sadly at her, and will myself younger until I'm gone.

I wake in my bed in Grimmauld Place. What a birthday. So much for being able to relax and enjoy things. I get dressed and go downstairs.

"Cassie," I say, looking at her sadly. "There's... the headquarters is going to be attacked today. They need to be warned."

Cassie gives a nod. "Let's go."

I can't argue with the sentiment of wanting to go with me, much as I'd like her to stay here where it's safe. I look to Kreacher and say, "We may or may not be back again."

"Good luck, Mistress Cassie, Master Harry."

Yep, definitely doomed. We Apparate to Caer Danas and head inside. Dumbledore seems to be in a bit of a meeting in the main hall as we approach.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore says. "I'm glad to see you've returned. Happy birthday."

I shake my head. "Can we speak in private for a moment?" I lead him off out into the garden, peering about for anyone that might be listening.

"Is something the matter, Harry?" Dumbledore asks.

"The house is going to be attacked at two o'clock this afternoon," I say. "There's a spy on the inside. They used Fiendfyre..."

"Do you have any idea who the spy might be?" Dumbledore says, frowning.

I shake my head. "I'm afraid I have very little information right now."

"We can't just evacuate everyone if there's a spy," Dumbledore says. "We must find who it is, and quickly."

I nod. "I'll see what I can do to ferret them out."

"I will, as well," Cassie says.

We head back inside and split up, looking amongst the crowd for anyone that seems suspicious or out of place. I poke into room after room, and then I see him, plain as day. Blond Tom Riddle, sitting alone in the front entryway, casually reading a book.

I come inside and cast a wandless privacy spell. "Hello, Marvolo."

"Hello, Harry," Tom says. "Happy birthday."

"How did Dumbledore not see right through your disguise?" I wonder.

"I came in with a batch of refugees," Tom says. "Fed them a sob story about being unable to prove my mum was a witch. The old goat never even looked at me twice."

I snort in amusement. I glance at the open archway leading into the main hall and say, "Why don't we take this outside?"

"Certainly," Tom says.

The two of us step out of the front door and into the front yard. A cobblestone walkway winds its way between small shrubs blossoming with flowers, and a tall hedge marks the perimeter of the property.

"Mind if I tell Cassie she can stop looking, before she stirs anything up?" I ask.

"Go ahead," Tom says.

"Expecto Patronum," I murmur, summoning my duck Patronus. "Tell Cassie, the situation is resolved. I'll meet up with you back home if I can make it." The duck nods and zips off into the house.

"I always thought that was a peculiar and inefficient means of sending messages," Tom comments absently.

I shrug. "So, what exactly led to the idea of burning down my house?" I ask.

Tom doesn't look the least bit surprised. "Are you upset about that?"

"You burned down my house," I say, not sure whether to laugh or scream.

"It's not like you have been here much lately," Tom says. "And you did express displeasure at your house guests."

"That's no excuse for burning down my house," I say. "And there are people here that I still care about."

"Clearly not enough to have spent your birthday with," Tom says.

I stare at him silently. "I hate you for having a point. But, why not just kill the people inside, instead of burning down the house?"

"Risky," Tom says. "I may be the greatest dark wizard alive, but I'm not foolish enough to risk taking on every witch and wizard in this building, including Dumbledore, by myself. Or would you prefer that I poison them instead?"

"What's to stop me from exposing you to Dumbledore?" I ask.

"Do you trust Dumbledore?" Tom asks.

Now there's the question. "Not so far as I can kick him," I reply. "But that's not the point."

"I could be burning down this house again before you can breathe a word to him," Tom says. "And don't even think about going back again to warn him. I will know."

I can't even be certain that he's bluffing. He did seem to know whenever I showed up in Knockturn Alley, after all. I don't know how he knows, but perhaps it would be best to assume that whatever I might do, he'll find out about it somehow.

"You said you'd leave me alone," I say quietly.

"Provided that you did not interfere with my plans," Tom says. "And I have. I even did you the courtesy of waiting until your birthday, when everyone you might possibly care about would likely be with you instead of here, seeing as you haven't been here. You cannot deny me the opportunity to wipe out so many of my enemies in one fell swoop."

"You..." It's hard to dispute that. "You still burned down my house."

Tom chuckles softly. "Fine, if you're so attached to the place, I'll poison them, then. I'll even clean up the bodies afterward."

I sigh. "Look. No matter how annoyed I am for taking over my house, they're still people, many of them are good people. Some of them are children. Innocents. I can't stand by and let you do this."

"So, you intend to interfere after all?" Tom says, giving me a hard look.

"Do you want to destroy magical society?" I say.

"If I destroy it, it is only to rebuild it better," Tom says.

"You can't do that if you're killing children, though," I say. "Especially when wizarding society is barely starting to recover from the last war. Bad enough that so many families aren't really helping matters by only having one child, or other people not having any at all."

"Fighting with words now?" Tom says, grinning at me.

"I know I can't possibly defeat you in actual combat," I say.

"I'll be sure to tell Lucius that you deserve extra credit for a summer Politics project," Tom says. "But, go on. I'm listening."

I take a deep breath. "One year of Politics didn't exactly prepare me for debating with the damned Dark Lord."

"But you're doing so well at it so far," Tom says, grin broadening.

"Right..." I say. "So. If you're looking to rebuild society by your own wishes, the best way to accomplish that is to take over the education of the children, and thereby mold the next generation to the way you desire."

"An excellent suggestion, Harry," Tom says. "So, are you proposing murdering Dumbledore?"

I pause for a moment. "I'm apparently arguing what would actually make you successful, not what I would want you to do. Although I'd really find it hard to care if you just killed Dumbledore and nobody else. He's not exactly helpless nor innocent. It's not my job to protect him."

Tom chuckles. "And what would you want me to do?"

If my hallucinations are any indication, I apparently want him to drag me off and ravish me. But there's no way in the Abyss I'm saying that. "Not burn down my house, for starters?"

"Why did you blush?" Tom wonders, cocking his head at me.

"Ah, fuck," I mutter.

"Is that it, hmm?" Tom drawls, grinning at me again.

"If you keep grinning at me like that, I'm going to commit suicide from humiliation," I say.

"But then you'd have to convince me not to burn down your house all over again," Tom says.

"I'm used to it," I say.

Tom chuckles. "It's a strange situation, isn't it? The prophecy claims that neither of us can live while the other survives, and yet we're both immortal in our own ways."

"Who gave that prophecy, anyway?" I ask.

"Trelawny," Tom says.

I snort loudly. "Trelawny? Seriously?"

"I know, right?" Tom says, smirking.

"Trelawny has a habit of diligently and unerringly predicting many possible ways I could die," I say. "Not all of them actually happen. And sometimes I die in ways she didn't anticipate. The future isn't fixed."

"Still," Tom says. "You know I'm only leaving you be until I can figure out a way to rid myself of you permanently. Hmm, perhaps the Dementor's Kiss would work..."

I immediately tense up. "I'd really rather you not try."

"And why should I not?" Tom says. "I have no desire to risk being 'vanquished', even if the prophecy was only something that may happen rather than something that will happen."

I close my eyes for a moment and let out a ragged breath. "I'll turn the Killing Curse on myself before I let you do that."

"I have my doubts that you can cast the Killing Curse at all, never mind against yourself," Tom says dryly.

"You don't want to risk the possibility that I might 'vanquish' you," I say. "I don't want to risk the possibility that you might find a way to find a way to kill me."

"Well, I can certainly understand that," Tom says. "Would you kill one person to save your own life?"

"Of course," I reply without hesitation.

"Would you kill a million people?" Tom goes on.

"I'm not that kind of person," I say.

"We've already established that you are that kind of person," Tom says, grinning at me. "Now we're just haggling over the price."

I give him a long, hard look. My heart is pounding, my blood racing in fear, in panic. "Are you trying to back me into a corner?"

"Oh, just wondering what you might do if your very existence were at stake," Tom says, almost idly.

There's only one truthful answer I can give. "If my very existence were at stake..." I reply slowly, "...then the whole world can burn."

"Now, I think, we're speaking the same language," Tom says. "You are not a self-sacrificing fool. I can appreciate that."

As much as I might feel guilty for it, my desire for self-preservation outweighs all other concerns. I've gotten used to the idea of immortality. I like not being able to die. The thought of ending all that, frankly, terrifies me. There is so much I want to do, and learn, and experience. And when I've done it all, I want to go through and do it all again.

"But right now, I will only ask for one life in exchange for your own," Tom says. "That's fair, isn't it? One life, and I will generously grant you another year of peace. I won't even burn down your house or anything."

"Who's life?" I ask.

"Dumbledore," Tom says. "Help me kill Dumbledore."

I let out a ragged breath. I find myself trembling. I bear no hate for Dumbledore. He's a good person, and has been helpful toward me. But I have no desire to meet a permanent death for his sake. I could say I have no choice, but there are always choices. I can kill myself right now, and avoid this situation in any number of ways, not the least of which by making myself start over again.

This life is a mess. But I see no good reason to end it now. So long as I can avoid anything that would do permanent harm to me, it's alright. Life will go on, one way or another. I'll stick through it, and see where this path might lead.

"I agree," I reply.

"Excellent," Tom says, grinning darkly at me. "Bring him here. I'll be waiting for him."

I give a terse nod and turn to head back into the house. I steel my heart for what I'm about to do. My mind is still reeling. But I carefully make my expression a mask, to give no hint as to what's going on in my head.

Dumbledore is sitting in the main hall, sucking on lemon drops. "There you are, Harry. Cassie said you'd resolved the situation?"

"I found the spy," I say quietly. "But I'm going to need your help with dealing with him now. Would you accompany me, please?"

"Of course," Dumbledore says, climbing to his feet and following after me. Following me to his doom.

I pull out my wand, clenching it in my left hand and trying to stop it from shaking. Some part of me is screaming that this is wrong. But it's drowned out by my desire to live. Even if Dumbledore dies here today, he'll still be alive in another timeline, after all. But what will happen to me if someone finds a way to stop me from going back? There might be other Lexens that still live somewhere, perhaps, but that won't matter to me.

We step out the front door. Tom is standing in the grass in a casual dueling posture, wand in hand, about fifty feet away.

"Hello, Dumbledore," Tom says lightly. "Did you not recognize me with my hair dyed?"

"Tom," Dumbledore says, raising his wand and dropping into a dueling stance himself. "You won't get away with this."

"Get away with what?" Tom says. "I haven't even done anything yet." He laughs aloud.

The two of them start exchanging spells. I don't know which of them might win in a one-on-one fight. But that was not what I promised. I told Tom that I would help him kill Dumbledore, and Dumbledore won't expect me to betray him.

I don't hate Dumbledore. But I can. I concentrate my thoughts on rage and hatred, letting fury boil in my veins. I think on how Dumbledore gave a child into the hands of abusive Muggles, and how that child subsequently died tragically. Such a pointless waste of life. I focus my emotion into the point of a deadly blade.

"Avada--" I growl.

Dumbledore stops and looks at me in alarm, and realizes that my wand is pointed toward him. But he's too slow to react.

"KEDAVRA!" I scream.

A flash of green light bursts from my wand. Dumbledore is too close to dodge. The curse strikes him straight on.

Dumbledore falls to the ground, a look of shock forever frozen on his face.

I stare at the corpse for several long moments. A man who helped me, and who I betrayed. As it slowly sinks in just what I've done, tears start to well up in my eyes unbidden. I blink them away. I focus, and force myself to remain calm for the moment. I can break down later.

"I didn't ask you to kill him yourself," Tom says. "But I'll take back my doubts that you can cast the Killing Curse."

"He's not the first one I've murdered," I say. "And he doubtless won't be the last." I compulsively lean down to look through his possessions, and snatch up his wand and put it in my bag.

"You've earned some respect, Harry Potter," Tom says.

"Harry Potter is dead," I say, turning away. "My name is Lexen Chelseer."

I don't really care, at this point, whether he takes that literally or figuratively. I bring to mind Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Apparate away before he might respond.

Once inside, Cassie comes running, and hugs me tightly. "Harry! I was a little afraid you wouldn't come back."

I smile weakly at her. "Cassie, would you go and fetch Draco, please?"

"Certainly," Cassie says, heading out.

I go into the dining room and curl up in one of the seats. I pull out Dumbledore's wand and stare at it, thinking of the terrible crime I've just committed, and for what? For my own survival. I allow the tears to flow, sobs wracking my body. I didn't have to do this. But in the end, I chose to. I'm sorry, Dumbledore.

Why could I kill him, when I couldn't bring myself to kill Tom? I don't know. I don't understand my own mind sometimes.

Perhaps, if he had known what was coming, he would have willingly given his life in order to spare all those others who might have been threatened. A self-sacrificing fool? Is that foolishness, or nobility? Am I a terrible person for refusing to do that? For refusing to risk my own existence for the sake of what might be good and right? Maybe it's easier to give one's life when you know you're going to die sooner or later anyway.

"Harry?" Cassie says, coming into the room. "Are you alright?"

"Who's wand is that?" Draco says, coming in behind her.

"Dumbledore's," I murmur softly.

"Dumbledore's?" Draco repeats, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing with Dumbledore's wand?"

I let out a ragged breath, still trembling, still crying. "Today I murdered Dumbledore for the Dark Lord," I choke out. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

Draco and Cassie gape at me. "Holy... shit," Draco utters.

"Harry...?" Cassie says.

"Not Harry," I say. "Lexen. Call me Lexen. Not Harry. Never again." I don't really care to explain it all to them at the moment, but I don't want to hear that name anymore. I took on the role of Harry Potter for Dumbledore's sake, and it has brought me nothing but grief. With Dumbledore dead by my own hand, I have no right to bear that name any longer.

"Lexen?" Draco says, then shrugs. "If you say so. I want to know what you're crying over. You decided to follow the Dark Lord after all, but now you're going to feel all guilty about it?"

"I killed Dumbledore," I say. "That doesn't mean I won't mourn his death. What kind of a monster would I be if I could no longer feel remorse?"

"The kind that isn't constantly being angsty about one thing or another," Draco says. "You're always trying to be depressed about something. But I swear, if you spend the entire next year moping, I will kick your ass."

I snort softly. "Yeah," I say. "Please do. Thanks, Draco. That's why I keep you around." I smirk at him. "But let me mourn today, at least."

"It's your birthday," Draco says. "Mourn tomorrow."

"Kreacher made cake?" the house-elf says, gingerly putting a large chocolate cake on the table, with the words 'Happy Birthday' on it.

"Thanks, Kreacher," I say, forcing a smile at him. "You're a dear."

"You've got presents," Cassie says, setting out gifts wrapped in brightly colored paper before me.

I put Dumbledore's wand away in my bag. I don't like holding it. It feels attuned to me, even as my own does, but has a very different flavor. Darker, heavier. Powerful, but it's a power bought by death, paid for in blood. I'll keep it, but I don't know that I'll ever want to actually use it.

I don't know if today was a victory or a defeat. Perhaps it was both. Success and failure wrapped up in one little terrible package. Like a birthday present of lemon sherbets.

I take a bite of delicious chocolate cake, but it's like ashes in my mouth.