Tainted: The Hero's Revenge

Prologue

August 1996, Diagon Alley

The pain growing in his chest and spreading throughout his body was maddening. He felt completely blind and all he could do was curl up on his side in fetal position and groan; his chest was burning up.

"Harry!" someone cried out hysterically, then that person screamed. Panic took over him, the pain suddenly forgotten. He tried to yell something but couldn't. He tried to move but couldn't move an inch. He tried to look to where they all were, but he couldn't see a thing. His face was wet with tears.

Oh please make this stop! I have to help them! I have to...

More screams and yelled curses came from all around him. Chaos. Things crashing all over the place, the unmistakable sound of bodies falling on the ground and on the walls of the buildings. All this was making him more and more desperate.

"Take him! Take the boy now, you fool!" roared a harsh voice.

"You will not!" someone else yelled back fiercely, and then the sound of curses crashing against the other ensued. The explosions from them were coming from all directions. Harry Potter now felt numb. The horrible, tormenting burning was spreading throughout his neck, face, and stomach. When his entire head felt like it was submerged in the fiery sensation, he let out a scream of agony.

He heard one of his best friends, Ron Weasley, yell out his name again desperately.

"Go Ron, take Hermione, you must!" someone yelled back at him amongst all the noise of the battle that had ensued.

"I cannot leave him!" cried Ron.

"Go now!" bellowed the other person, who he just realized was Arthur Weasley. It seemed they were all getting farther and farther away, or maybe he was. Time didn't seem to exist anymore. All he could do was repeat over and over in his mind.

I cannot die. Please don't let me die...

I have to help them. I have to live. Please.

Anything to let me live!

Then he felt it; someone was holding him, taking him away from there in a powerful grasp. He was completely disoriented and blind; all he could feel was the pain and a strong wind against his body. Was this dying?

A hand stroked his hair and then he heard a whisper close to his ear, a voice like that of an angel.

"All will be fine, child. No more pain."

How lovely to hear that voice! How divine it was among this hell he was in, to hear a voice like that say those things.

The gusts of wind suddenly stopped. He was still disoriented and barely felt the ground underneath. Where was he?

"Do you still wish to live, young one?" asked the angel's voice. The tone was highly sympathetic but also very sad. He couldn't understand what was going on, but he didn't have time to understand. He felt like he was starting to fade away from this world, like he was leaving his body. He couldn't speak, although he kept thinking; yes...let me live.

Please let me live.

Before he knew it, his lips were wet.

"Drink this. It will give you life."

He opened his mouth and savored some warm liquid. He was in too much pain to think. He just drank and drank, suddenly realizing how divine it tasted. Then out of nowhere, a thought came to him.

Elixir of life. I am drinking the Elixir of life from this angel.

He couldn't bare it when it was taken away. He wanted more; he needed more. But the pain was already going away. He could feel his body again.

"More..." he managed to whisper, weakly and barely audible. The torment was going away amazingly fast, his vision was finally returning...

"Not today," answered the angel. "For now, you will not remember."

Blackness took over immediately and Harry fell into the most delicious, soothing sleep he's ever had.