Young Again: The Rewrite

Harry lay on the sticky wet ground and felt an eternity pass by before him. A thousand threads of thought pulsed from every corner of his mind--but two thoughts remained above them all.

He was eighteen years old again. And he could finally fight.

"Stand up, Potter," called Lord Voldemort. "Stand up and face me like a man, like you did at my resurrection. Ah, yes, you did not think I would remember that?"

Harry blinked away his weariness, burning them away with his Occlumency shields. He needed to focus. To concentrate.

"Will you forever remain shuddering on the ground, boy?" said an amused Dark Lord. "A pity, then--for I had hoped you would provide for me quite an entertainment. Well, will you not stand, yet? Shall I wait some more until you have your fear under control?"

Harry was tired. Yes, it was very true. After all, going from an infant toddler to young adult would cost anyone a hefty bit of their strength--adding that to the fact that Harry had already destroyed thirteen bone fires and fought Lord Voldemort only that morning; it would make anyone shudder with weakness.

But he was ready for situations like these. After all, fighting a constant war in his past had prepared him for moments when he was weakened beyond exhaustion--and so slowly, but surely, he gathered his strength.

I have no wand, thought Harry. I might not be used to controlling my adult body--that'll slow me down.

And I'm naked.

"Come, Mr. Potter, come! We have but twelve minutes till midnight, and I'm afraid this must end by that time. Now, stand. I have something for you. Stand up, and perhaps I may give it to you. Stand!"

Harry tried to subtly wiggle his toes and fingers, trying to get a feel for them. Without a wand, he would be hard pressed to fight, he knew. But wasn't there a Death Eater at the edge of his vision who's wand he could steal?--Yes, there he was perhaps seven feet away, Harry saw when he inconspicuously shifted his eyes quickly in that direction.

"Very well. Another minute I shall give you to recover," spoke Lord Voldemort, disdainfully. "And perhaps during this minute, I may enlighten you as to my reasons for Re-Aging your body. After all, you must be wondering--as must my honored guests, and I would be a poor host to leave you in such confusion."

Another minute? Good. Harry was almost ready.

"You see, Harry, in my future, I feared you," said the Dark Lord. "I hated you. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had made a profound mistake, as I said earlier, by marking you--and it prevented me from taking any sort of harmful action against you. When you became marked as my equal, you fell under a protection of that which I could not break; for you were protected not only by the Prophecy, but by a power greater than that which I could alter."

Love. The Love Protection. Voldemort remembered that? But if he remembered that it was the Love Protection that had saved Harry and marked him as the Chosen One, then why did the Dark Lord think he had managed to mark Neville? I'm so confused! What the hell is going on? By Lord Voldemort's logic, only marking someone through the Love Sacrifice would proclaim the Chosen One. Right?

"I meant to use your death, the death of the Chosen One, to be the last insurance of my immortality. You know of what insurances I speak of, Harry. You have hunted for them--and destroyed most of them in your future. Yes, I remember that well enough."

He's talking about his Horcruxes. He wanted to use my death to create the last one. The sixth Horcrux, making it a total of seven split souls to insure his immortality--but I know he meant to do that, already.

"There is a ritual that must be performed, Harry," continued the Dark Lord. "A binding between the object of insurance and the initiator--so that the moment of murder could provide the initiator the split second of time needed to separate his soul. But do you know what happened that night, Harry? Do you know what went wrong? It was something I would never have foreseen--and I believe now that it must have been the Prophecy that had intervened, that had pressed us both in order to fulfill its lines.

"You see, the bind between myself and my object of insurance snapped the very moment I sought to destroy you. I do not pretend to know how this happened, Harry, for I am well aware of my limitations, and I do know that the binding could not have been broken by any ordinary means. It was the Prophecy, Harry Potter; it was Prophecy that had snapped the binding between myself and my object."

Suddenly Lord Voldemort laughed, and for some odd reason, it rang with bitterness. "The irony still gets me, Harry. Oh, the irony. When the lines between myself and the object broke, the piece of my soul that had been split apart flowed through the only other remaining connection--the connection between myself and you--through the Killing Curse."

What?

"Is that not hilarious, Potter? I sought to destroy you, but instead I empowered you with a piece of myself. I made you my magical heir, and you received my powers. I sought to be rid of my only opponent--and instead I bestowed upon you a protection far greater than any, for I made you one of my six insurances to immortality. Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, you became my sixth Horcrux."

Harry couldn't help himself, he gasped aloud. He still lay on the bloody ground, recovering as much of his strength as he could, and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand.

I'm a Horcrux. I'm a bloody Horcrux. I have a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul inside of me. No wonder we couldn't find the last original one! I am bloody it!

"Yes, I know how honored you must feel, Harry, to have carried my soul for all these years--but now, it is out of you. It was torn away when you foolishly tried to come back in time--and returned to me."

That's why he remembers a bit of the future, Harry's thought darted forward, connecting so many dots that had previously been so disconnected. Because the piece of his soul within me came back with mine. Oh, Light! I am responsible for all this! It's my fault!

"Did you not ever wonder why it was that I never sought to destroy you? It was not at all because you were capable of matching my strength and skill. Let us be real, Potter, you were never cunning enough to avoid my grasp, nor quick enough to evade my strikes--no, Harry Potter, you survived because I could not kill you. For, after all, how could I magically kill a part of myself? That is why my first Killing Curse failed, why it rebounded to me, and why you are still alive today."

What was the Dark Lord talking about? He had tried to kill Harry over a thousand times in his past, right? Right? Harry tried immediately to bring up a specific incident, one incident when the Dark Lord attempted to destroy Harry--then remembered. Yeah, at the Ministry four years ago when I retrieved the Prophecy. He shot the Killing Curse at me. And I'm bloody sure it was meant to kill me.

But did the Dark Lord ever try after he learned the Prophecy, two years later? Harry tried to remember--but found himself blank and realized something that horrified him, something that gave credence to Voldemort's words. For Harry realized quite suddenly that after Lord Voldemort had learned the whole Prophecy, he had never once tried to magically kill Harry. Never once.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when Lord Voldemort continued speaking, his tone cold and wintry. "I could not kill myself, Harry. Not magically. Have you ever seen someone cast the Killing Curse at himself? It rebounds, Harry Potter. It will rebound."

Of course, thought Harry. Of course! That was why he had lived! It was the reason why he had been the only one to survive the Killing Curse!

All of a sudden the Dark Lord's voice grew harder, and harsher. "But now, you are no longer protected by either the Prophecy, nor by a piece of my soul. Now, Harry Potter, you are defenseless. And now, I shall finally destroy the nuisance that you are. Stand, former Chosen One."

I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Harry tried not to visibly tense as he prepared to spring. Soon, when Lord Voldemort least expects it. Soon, it will begin. He kept track of his chosen Death Eater at the edge of his sight.

"Rise, former Boy Who Lived!"

Carefully, ever so carefully, Harry tensed his muscles.

"Face me, Harry James Potter. Stand up, you who was once my equal!"

As you wish--

"Stand! Stand and face the wrath of Lord Volde--!"

"NOW!" Harry sprang with a roar, pushing off the ground, and swiftly rolled over to where his target Death Eater stood frozen from the shock of Harry darting so quickly in his direction.

"Curse him, you fool!" cried Lord Voldemort. "Curse him, fools!"

Harry threw out a punch at the Death Eater's stomach before twisting himself around the Death Eater, while holding the man's arms down on his sides, so that he was hidden behind the wizard--just as a barrage of curses exploded into Harry's human shield. The force of the half-dozen spells rocketing into the adult wizard slammed the two of them back a few feet, before Harry was finally able to snatch up the Death Eater's wand. A shield snapped into place within an instant. Contego!

Harry allowed his unconscious, captive Death Eater to slump down to the ground with a sneer. A weak idiot. The air before him rippled and imploded again and again just mere feet in front of him--but his shield held tentatively against the spells from Death Eaters. Harry gripped the other wizard's wand tightly in his right hand, and for the first time in a long while, he felt powerful again.

I may not have a million spells at my disposal. I may not have decades of experience. I may not know the finer details of any of the spells I do know. But I have power. And I know how to use it.

With a wave of his wand, he drew off the robe and cloak of the Death Eater, and covered himself. Goodness, how fucking weird must it have looked like? A naked teen darting around, attacking a grown man?

Harry drew in a deep breath, nearly gagging at the repulsiveness that clung to the night air, and gathered himself again.

It looks like nine Death Eaters are attacking me right now. All of them Inner Circle members. One against nine, plus Voldemort; what are the odds of me winning this? None. Absolutely nothing.

But I will still fight!

"Lord Voldemort," called Harry gravely, speaking for the very first time. The Death Eaters striking at him fell silent and stilled. As Harry looked at the Dark Lord, he had to force himself not to shudder. Is it true? Did I really escape from him all these times because he couldn't kill me? Could he really destroy me so easily? When Harry continued, he was surprised to find his voice rather calm. "You made a mistake. You never should have given me this chance. You have always underestimated me, and it has always been your gravest mistake."

"Ah! The teen speaks coherently at last!" Lord Voldemort seemed delighted at this fact. "But what is this utter rubbish you speak of, boy? Underestimate you, Potter?" The Dark Lord continued scornfully, "Underestimate, indeed! You make me laugh, Harry, truly you do. I could have killed you a thousand times by now if you had not been protected by my soul. With a single wave of my wand I could have obliterated you beyond death, beyond existence. No, Potter--underestimate? Never that."

"Then why don't you just try to obliterate me now, Riddle?" snarled Harry as he raised his wand up. "What's the use in all this dramatics? You do know you're quite the melodramatic queen, don't you?"

To Harry's complete surprise, the Dark Lord only laughed in response. "Yes, you have always been stubborn. You have always been too sure of yourself, Potter. But the time for jokes are over, now. Why don't I strike you down right this moment, you ask? Allow me to answer." Lord Voldemort lifted up one hand, his right hand, and spread out his hand so that it was visible to all. And there, glittering and reflecting the sickly green light of the fire was the Potter signet ring.

The ring!

"Ah, yes," hissed Voldemort coldly. "I see you recognize it. The Potter signet ring, which my dear Wormtail was so kind to retrieve for me. Do you understand now, Harry? Have you realized yet what I mean to do?" The Dark Lord lowered his hand. "No? Shall I enlighten that pathetic mind of yours? Very well. I shall attempt to put it in the most simplest terms so that you can understand." Lord Voldemort paused, and the silence was nearly deafening as everyone waited.

Finally, the Dark Lord spoke, with a soft harshness that made Harry shudder, "At midnight, ten minutes from this moment, I shall strike you down and create my last insurance of immortality." Lord Voldemort stroked the ring with his other hand as he continued. "And this ring, the Potter signet ring, will serve as my last item. Do you understand now, Potter? You will die, oh yes, you will die. But you shall, at the end, be of great service to me. You are no longer protected by the Prophecy, for I have chosen another. You are no longer protected by a piece of my soul, which I have given to another. You are no longer protected by that pathetic residue of your mother's protection--which did not, in fact, reflect the Killing Curse, but merely left me unable to touch you--for she will not die tonight. You have been stripped bare of all your protections, of all your luck, of all your power. Tonight, at midnight, I shall obliterate you."

Then the Dark Lord laughed, he threw back his head and began to cackle with delight--he seemed really to get into that laughter of insanity, but Harry interrupted him with a snarl, "Fuck you, Riddle, if you think I'll just let you do that! I'm not quite as powerless as you think, you know. And no matter what you say, you have always underestimated me, and it will be your downfall."

Harry stood tall and glared defiantly at Lord Voldemort, and ruthlessly suppressed all the despair that was welling up within him. Light, could he be right? Am I so bereft of all my protections? Could he really crush me so easily? Enough! Don't think! Not now!

But the Dark Lord merely hissed with amusement. "Indeed, you are correct, Potter. You are not so powerless. That is why I have decided to give you one chance. One chance to escape. After all, you have done me great service in coming back to the past."

What?

Lord Voldemort drew something that looked like a wand out of his pocket, and tossed it at Harry, who raised his stolen wand to defend himself against any surprises. The thrown wand bounced off his shield and clattered to the ground, catching the light as it did--and Harry couldn't help but gasp as he recognized the wand. My wand!

"Eleven inches," said the Dark Lord, "holly, and Phoenix feather, supple. Your wand, Potter, brother to my own."

Harry could hardly believe it as he summoned his wand, and felt the familiar feeling of power rushing through him as his hand wrapped around it. My wand, and it still responds to me! I thought this wand chose me because I had a connection to Voldemort, but looks like I deserve it regardless. A fear that he never knew he had possessed vanished, and he realized for the first conscious time that he had, indeed, been always afraid that his wand had only chosen him because of his scar. But it was not the case, apparently. My wand!

"One chance, Potter, to save yourself. You have nine minutes to fight your way out. I shall not interfere. Nine of my best Death Eaters shall duel with you, boy. You defeat all nine of them, and I shall consider sparing your life."

What in the world? Why was Voldemort doing this? Harry couldn't help but narrow his eyes with suspicion. What could the Dark Lord possibly gain from this?

"You are suspicious, Harry. Good," called Lord Voldemort. "You wonder why I am allowing you this chance. Perhaps it is because I am in need of some entertainment. After all, since you ruined my earlier one by destroying my bone fires, is it not right that you should substitute? Well? Time is moving forth, Potter. You have less than nine minutes. Begin soon." The Dark Lord gestured, and nine Inner Circle members approached and entered the clearing. "Whenever you're ready, Potter, it shall begin."

Something is not right about this, Harry thought with a frown. Something is off. Well, if he thought about it, everything about this night was off. Why was Voldemort doing this? It just didn't make any sense. He carefully eyed the approaching Death Eaters and raised both his wands up in a defensive position. Good thing I have my old wand back. I hope I can still use two wands as I used to be able to do. These guys look serious.

With a sigh, Harry shrugged mentally. There wasn't anything he could particularly do at this moment. He certainly didn't trust the Dark Lord to keep his word. Maybe he just wants to know how well I fight. He probably doesn't remember that much about my fighting skills. Yeah, maybe that's why. Still, if he didn't act now, it looked like the Death Eaters would start it for him.

So, what's the chance of me actually winning this? thought Harry as he carefully watched the Death Eaters spread out into a semicircle in front of him. Most likely none. Oh well, it's not like I've ever actually had better odds when fighting Voldemort's minions. I've always been outnumbered and stuck in impossible situations--how different is this? I have always survived.

And so with this rather depressing, yet not-so-depressing thought, Harry cast his very first offensive spell. Here we go!

The ground beneath three Death Eater's exploded, and Harry twisted away, allowing his shield to drop as a half-dozen spells hurdled his way--and watched coolly as they sped right by him. Abeo Flamma!

A whipping cord of flames burst out from the tip of Harry's stolen wand, just as he focused and cast another explosion spell with his other wand. The cord of fire whirling out from his stolen wand snapped around him in a protective spiral that deflected the next barrage of enemy spells, whipping them away as he slashed his wand, and with a jerk of his own wand he shot out another explosion hex that made two Death Eaters stumble and trip. He shifted away again, allowing other spells to fly past him.

When the ground where he had stood just a split second before exploded up in a fountain of blood and hardened dirt, Harry swung both his wands, his magic flinging out before him as he pushed the fountain of grit away and allowed it to slam into another Death Eater, who just barely managed to summon a shield--even as Harry ducked low to the ground and spun around, a shield snapping into place just before a red ball crashed into it an inch before Harry's eyes. Ahh! Both shield and spell crumbled away as Harry jumped and whirled once more, blinking away the harsh red glare from that offensive spell.

Constant movement, Potter, goes with constant vigilance! Moody's voice growled in his ears. You very well can't hit someone who's too fast for yeh'!

Harry jerked his own wand just as he saw the first Unforgivable cast within this skirmish, and barely managed to drop and roll away as the green flash of light sped over him. Pulsus flamma! A ball of green fire exploded from the tip of his other wand, and Harry managed to hit Lucius Malfoy--before he had to dart away hastily to avoid an Acid-Blood Hex from a Death Eater who looked like Yaxley, flicking his own wand as he deflected another curse from one of the Lestrange brothers.

Voldemort really isn't attacking! That's a surprise!

There was a roar from the side, and Harry's eyes widened as lightning shot out from another Death Eater's wand--Rookwood's, it looked like--and grit his teeth as he was hit on his left shoulder, the imploding force spinning him through the air and landing him unsteadily on the ground. Too fast! thought Harry as he jumped up, barely avoiding a Cold-Tears Curse that splattered the ground behind him with a disgusting yellow substance--wincing as his shoulder throbbed in vengeance to his sharp moves.

Light help me, I'm tired! Breathing heavily, Harry dropped low to the ground again as more curses sped his way, and desperately rolled on the bloody street to avoid more.

Ilierla Skeliwma dei Renwe!

A purple net flowed out from the end of his wand with an opening of about two feet wide, and Harry very nearly grinned. Nicholas loved this spell. I'm glad he taught me, now! Quickly swinging his wand around him, the net following his wand's movement, Harry managed to sweep up most of the curses headed his way--his other wand deflecting the ones that didn't get swept up by the net--and twisted his first wand with a gesture that tightened the opening of the net.

Release! Harry commanded within his mind, just as he flicked his wand and tossed the bundled-up spells in Yaxley's direction. Get rid of the most powerful first! And he's it!

But to Harry's surprise, Yaxley verbally spoke a spell whose words themselves rang with deep underlying power, and the net exploded in a firestorm of red and yellow, a chaotic mess of colored power that blasted out a shockwave, flattening everyone within a fifteen feet radius. Fuck!

Harry darted back onto his feet with a defense net coiling around him--

--and roared with pain as all of his muscles suddenly cramped at once. A spell had gone right through his defense net! The loss of control over his body made him slump quite suddenly to the ground, his eyes shut tightly with pain. Oh light, light, oh Merlin! His wands clattered uselessly on the floor as his muscles seized up once more. Blast it!

"Interesting," said Lord Voldemort coldly as he stepped in. He flicked his wand in Harry's direction--and Harry bit in a whimper of pain as the Dark Lord's magic formed teeth and claws that tore his net apart. "You astound me, Harry Potter, with your dueling skills. I must admit, they are beyond what I would have been capable of at your age." The Dark Lord kept his wand trained on Harry, and Harry fought desperately against screaming out in agony as his muscles continued to cramp and contract even more.

"However, you lack my edge, a ruthlessness that prevents you from outright defeating your opponents as I could have done." Harry couldn't help it; he began to thrash on the ground as his muscles continued to convulse and cramp up, writhing on the ground in excruciating pain. "Your magic is loosely controlled, and you do not utilize your full strength. In all honesty, I am disappointed with these blatant holes in your training--what has dear Dumbledore been doing? Why has he not instructed you any better?"

Lord Voldemort suddenly jerked his wand, and Harry was swiftly lifted up, hanging five feet above the ground, before the Dark Lord's magic wound tight around him and crushed his body inwards. "Strength and power, Harry Potter. Even unmarked you are nearly as powerful as I, and yet you will never defeat me. Do you know why, Harry? Do you want to know? I shall tell you. It is because you fight like a poor pitiful fool, striking with only Light magic--which pales in comparison to the power of the Dark! You are woefully ignorant of the true--"

"Save your breath, Riddle!" spat Harry through gritted teeth, his eyes nearly rolling with pain as agony continued to spike through his body. Was it just his imagination, or was his vision getting darker and darker, fading in and out? "I've... heard it all from you b-before!" Harry groaned as his body convulsed again.

The Dark Lord stepped forward, nearing where Harry lay prone, suspended above the ground. "Harry, Harry, Harry, of course you've heard it all. Haven't we all?" replied Lord Voldemort, his voice silky. "But you did not listen when I spoke before, did you? No, you did not, and you do not now--why is that? Allow me to guess, it was and is because I killed your parents, is it not?"

Panic gripped Harry's heart. "Don't you dare t-touch t-them!" He mangled the last words as his body quivered again in sharp excruciating torture at a jerk from Lord Voldemort's wand.

"Oh?" Lord Voldemort swung his wand out abruptly, and two figures were suddenly drawn into the clearing. "And if I were to spare them now, would you willingly submit to me? Ponder this, Potter: had I not killed your parents, would you have been more willing to listen to me? It is an interesting question, and I am truly interested in the answer. However, I know you have no intention of answering it--but I see the truth. It is ever so clear in your magic, your actions, your soul.

"You are powerful, Harry, and I know exactly the allure of the power of the Dark. You feel it too, do you not? You fought a war in your past, Potter, you fought a confrontation that spilled so much blood--did you not feel the call of the wild Darkness grip at you?" Lord Voldemort paused, before continuing once more. "Your parents, Harry. James and Lily Potter."

James and Lily were on the ground, bound by magic, and Lord Voldemort lifted a foot, pushing Lily until she lay on her back. Harry watched with agony-filled eyes as Lord Voldemort bent down and slowly caressed his mother's cheek. "Such a pity your mother is a Mudblood."

"Get your fucking hands of her--AHH!" Harry screamed as Lord Voldemort's wand was suddenly pointed in his direction again.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," he heard when the pain ended, the Dark Lord's condescending voice making him want to throw up in disgust. "You really must watch that filthy mouth of yours. Did your mother never tell you how vulgar and disgusting it is to be swearing so? Oh, dear me, I forgot; you had no parents." Harry grit his teeth in anger, and tried to ignore the pain shooting down his spine. You fucking did not forget, you bastard! "You interest me, Harry. Truly, I am fascinated by you. You are a powerful wizard, and you have determination. I wonder, Potter, if our circumstances had been different, would you have rejected the Dark so easily? Had I not killed your parents, would you have joined me? It is an interesting thought, is it not?"

Lord Voldemort was silent for a second, before nodding as though he had decided something. "Consider this, Potter. I shall offer you a place at my side, your life safe from death, and also the lives of your parents--if, and only if, you join me. Consider well, Potter. There is really no need for us to be fighting one another. It was the cursed Prophecy that brought us into conflict. Now we all have a second chance to make things different. Join me, Potter, what say you?"

Harry took a deep breath, and answered without even considering what the Dark Lord had to offer, "You can just go fuck yourself, Riddle. I'll never even consider joining you!"

"Will you truly not consider?" spoke Lord Voldemort both urgently and passionately. "After all, I am offering you something beyond what you could ever have hoped for! I am offering you power beyond your imaginations, the keys to the hidden doorways of magic! I am willing to spare your life--in fact, I am giving you the chance to live out the rest of your life without undue fear of me! I am allowing you the opportunity to get to know your parents. Does that not sound appealing? Join me, Harry Potter. Simply say the word, bend one knee, and you will be free." Lord Voldemort lowered his wand, and all the pain that had been throbbing within Harry's body sunk away and disappeared. "You must give me your answer now, Harry. Will you bend one knee, and live?"

Harry shook his head slowly in disbelief. "You bloody killed my parents, murdered all my friends, destroyed any chance of a happy future for me, and now you've slaughtered Muggle-borns, threatened to obliterate me at midnight, and suddenly you want me to join you? You really are fucking crazy, you know--AHH!" He screamed as the Dark Lord pointed his wand at Harry again. When he could finally think past the pain, he spoke raggedly, "You really are pathetic, you know that? You are fucking pathetic, Riddle!"

"Crucio!" hissed Lord Voldemort coldly. "I shall not be spoken to in such a way, Potter. I will not stand for it! Crucio!"

Pain. Utter pain. Absolute agony.

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt!

Oh Merlin, Light, help, help, help, pain, no, help, please, fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Scream, Potter! Scream!"

Stop, light, stop, hurt, pain, stop, stop, please, stop--

"STOP!" cried a voice, and it took Harry a full second to realize that it wasn't his own, though it was very similar. "Avada Kedavra!"

The Cruciatus was lifted, and Harry shuddered weakly as he lay suspended in the air, drifting in and out of consciousness. I hurt so much. I hate the Cruciatus. I absolutely hate it. I hate it. I hate him. I hate him. It took another moment before Harry realized that his mantra had changed from hating the spell to hating him, Lord Voldemort. But it was very true. I hate Lord Voldemort. I hate him! I'm gonna fucking kill him!

Then it seemed like a veil clouding his vision was torn away, and reality once more came crashing into focus. His senses reeled as he was so harshly brought back to the present, and as he lay gasping with his eyes shut tightly in the after-effects of the Cruciatus, he heard and felt hope.

"--away from my son, Voldemort!"

"James Potter, you dare to cast the Killing Curse at me, fool!"

Harry forced open his eyes, struggling against the weariness that tried to claim him, and looked at the scene before him. James, his father, had both of Harry's wands in his hands, standing in a defense position in front of his son. He must have picked up the wands from the ground where I dropped it. How did he get loose from the bindings, though?

"Release him, Dark Lord! Release him!" snarled James, his wands held steadily before him. "I'm warning you, let him--"

"Silence, fool! Do you really think you are a match for me? For any of my Death Eaters?" hissed Lord Voldemort harshly. "Speak again, James Potter, and I shall kill you myself. You are only alive because of Potter, there. But speak again, one more word, and I shall destroy you!"

I need my wand. I can release myself if I have my wand. Can I summon it, like I did with mum's? Well, he had to try. Harry focused, reaching into his magic, and called out, Come to me! Accio wand!

Harry heard his father's breath catch as the wand tore out from his wand into Harry's. Relashio Debloria! Harry called in his mind, and felt relief as the binding keeping him suspended began to unravel. Light, I probably should have just summoned a wand to me in the first place, instead of jumping a Death Eater a while ago!

He dropped to the ground and rolled as he impacted, simultaneously crying within his mind, Contego! A blue shield wrapped around him and his father just as a spell from Voldemort hammered at them. Harry grunted at the impact, and quickly summoned another shield when his first one shattered to dust.

"I see," hissed Lord Voldemort coldly. "So be it. You have just rejected my last offer, and now you will die. You have six minutes to play, Potters. Six minutes till midnight before I kill you, Harry." The Dark Lord gestured to his Death Eaters. "Kill the elder one, however no one but I have the right to kill the younger. Keep that in mind. Begin!"

Harry watched out the corner of his eyes as James spurred into motion and began shooting spells from the wand that Harry had stolen, obviously his Auror-training kicking in. Two Death Eaters were quickly brought down before they could defend themselves, and Harry maintained their shield as other Death Eaters began to strike back.

Mum, she needs to be protected! thought Harry was he focused on keeping the shield in place. Indeed, his mother was passed out on the ground, just outside Harry's shield. "Dad, protect mum!" Harry saw James grunt in answer and move towards Lily, a shield springing up around her. Good, now I can attack!

Abeo Flamma! Again a whipping cord of flames spun out from his wand, and Harry laughed as he lashed out and wrapped the flames around a single Death Eater. Flammeo Maxima! The whip exploded out in white fire, and the Death Eater screamed a split second before he was turned to dust. Take that, you fucker!

A movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Harry's eyes widened at the Dark spell headed his way--the Blind-Eye Curse! He knew he didn't have time to avoid it. Blast, what was the counter? The counter? An instant before it hit, Harry remembered, and he yelled out loud in his panic, "Lumos Solarum!" A beam of focused light broke apart the curse, and Harry sighed in relief even as he jumped away from another curse, summoning a shield as he shifted over.

Briefly he caught sight of his father, dueling with another Death Eater, but only for an instant before Harry was rolling again on the ground to avoid more. We're really in trouble. Even with the two of us we'll be hard pressed to defend ourselves, and also attack! They needed help, badly.

A powerful explosion erupted right next to Harry, and the recoil of power blew him off his feet, landing him painfully on his arse. Ouch! Rolling quickly away, Harry jumped back onto his feet just as another powerful explosion erupted right in front of him, blowing him off his feet again. Fuck! Instead of attempting to stand again, Harry swung his wand out in a wide circular arc, focusing on his magic, and grunted as he deflected a dozen spells spiraling towards him. Aeris Ventus!

Torrents of air blasted out around him, and Harry quickly sprang up while the Death Eaters were distracted by the fists of air punching out at them. Avis! Birds of all sizes exploded out from the tip of Harry's wand, spiraling in circles around him, providing both cover and obstruction from enemy spells.

"Harry!" yelled his father, and Harry spun around just to see three Death Eaters converge on his parents--and James had lost his wand. No! With a silent roar he burst into action, flinging out his power as he struck one of the Death Eaters. Devie Kinestasia! The Death Eater screamed as he was launched forty feet into the air, and Harry snarled at the other two. Poena Vulnero! The Heart-Fire curse slammed into one, and Harry quickly summoned the Death Eater's wand, tossing it immediately to James so that his father could deal with the last Death Eater, and cast another spell simultaneously. Tego Texi Tectum! A web of golden light spun out from his wand, coiling and cocooning around his parents. The Golden Shield wrapped them both up in a powerful protective bubble, and Harry sighed. They would be safe.

"Watch out!" screamed a witch from outside the clearing, and Harry whipped around to find a cord of flames spin around him. Bloody hell! His thoughts spinning around him, he quickly pointed to himself and shouted within his mind. Impertio Pluvia! Every inch of himself was abruptly soaked with water, and he sighed with relief when the tongue of flames did not burn him as it wrapped around him tightly. Now how in the blazes do I get out?

Harry groaned as the flames got fiercer and fiercer, keeping his arms tightly immobile, and fought to keep his Water-Immersion spell up. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Suddenly the flames disappeared, and he immediately dropped low to the ground, and swung around to see that James had been the one to dispel the cord of flames.

A wave of Harry's wand instantly dried his wet clothes and his body, and he wearily twisted around once more. His breathing was harsh and erratic as he was forced to dodge more incoming spells. We need help! I need help! Harry hissed in pain as he hastily dropped and rolled away, accidentally putting pressure on his lightning-burned shoulder, which shot spikes of agony into his brain in protest.

BANG!

The Golden Shield exploded out as it failed, and Harry was bodily lifted off his feet as the Golden Shield collapsed. No! Harry tried to climb back onto his feet, the action surprisingly difficult, and tiredly tried to call up another defense net around his parents. Light, someone, help us! They needed help! He wouldn't be able to take much more. He was too weak, too tired. Merlin, save us--

--and Harry's silent call for help was answered.

"THIS IS THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC," boomed a powerful voice. "YOU HAVE BEEN SURROUNDED. DROP YOUR WANDS AND PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD. ALL CIVILIANS ARE REQUESTED TO REMAIN AS FLAT AS POSSIBLE ON THE GROUND SO AS TO AVOID BEING CAUGHT IN ANY POSSIBLE CROSSFIRE."

What?

A powerful spell tore at Harry's face, and he barely managed to slap it away, diving as the Death Eaters around him continued their dual. Desperately Harry tried to regain his focus and concentration as he twisted away from spells coming in multiple directions--but he was too off balance now. The Ministry of Magic's finally arrived? Took them long enough!

Indeed, as Harry managed to take quick glances at the edge of the Shield of Scathach, he saw dozens of red-robed Aurors amassing, and several dozen flying above on broomsticks, though none dared to cross the invisible air boundary of the Shield of Scathach.

"I REPEAT. THIS IS THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC. YOU HAVE BEEN SURROUNDED. DROP YOUR WANDS AND PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD. ALL CIVILIANS ARE HEREBY REQUESTED TO REMAIN AS FLAT AS POSSIBLE ON THE GROUND SO AS TO AVOID BEING CAUGHT IN ANY CROSSFIRE."

Harry grinned.

****^^^^****

Minerva looked up at the Headmaster with a frown. "What do you mean 'upper hand of knowledge?'"

"Exactly that, Minerva," replied Albus. "The Ministry has had several hours to prepare for the eventual invoking of the Shield of Scathach. Plans have been drawn, and every detail has been taken into account."

"Every detail?" asked Minerva, her eyes narrowing as suspicions began to form within her mind. "Albus, don't tell me you knew the Potters and the Longbottoms were going to be kidnapped before it happened?"

The Headmaster pinned her with his eyes, an intensity within them that captured and held Minerva's. "Not only them, Minerva, but also Minister Bagnold, several Heads of Ministry Departments, a few prominent Wizengamot members, a handful from the International Confederation of Magical Beings, and even a group of Muggle government officials."

Shock was all Minerva could feel, her eyes getting wider and wider with every word; at the end she could only stare at Albus in complete disbelief. How? How could this have happened?She did not know the situation had been so serious. Merlin, even Muggles had been kidnapped! Muggles! And why would Lord Voldemort do this? What was the point? Did he really want the wizarding world to clash with the Muggles? That would be absolutely disastrous!

Wait. Minerva's thoughts froze as another suspicion welled up. No. No. Albus, please no. Don't tell me you--you--. She could not form her words. "Surely you did not--surely..." Minerva took a deep breath, then forced herself to ask, "Surely you did not allow the Halloween Festival at Diagon Alley to continue? Surely you had the event cancelled!"

When the Headmaster did not speak, her suspicions were confirmed. He had not cancelled the event. He had allowed it to continue, knowing that the Shield of Scathach was going to be invoked. Not only that, but he had also known the Potters would be kidnapped, and done nothing about it. He had known the Longbottoms would be kidnapped, and done nothing about it. He had allowed the Dark Lord to get his hands on them. And he had allowed Muggles to get involved as well. Minerva stood up slowly, her eyes boring into Albus's, and spoke with a vehement whisper, "Albus, what have you done?"

Albus spoke after a moment, with a soft tone and regret in his eyes. "Minerva, there was no other way. I am horrified by what I had to do, but you must understand--it was truly the only option. This was the perfect opportunity for a trap; to get capture and weaken of Lord Voldemort's support, to perhaps show us all who our Chosen One is. Understand this, if there had been another viable possibility, I would have chosen it. You must believe me, Minerva."

"I cannot believe I am listening to this," said Minerva. "What did you do, Albus? What have you done?" When the Headmaster did not speak, Minerva snarled, "What have you done?"

"There is no need for you to take that tone with me, Minerva," said Albus, his voice suddenly hard and rather cool. "There are times when situations force our hand, force us to make decisions that we otherwise would not have made. This was such a case. We are at war, Minerva, at war. Do not question me in such a way. I have done my best."

"Tell me, then, tell me," said Minerva coldly, her eyes narrowed and her voice just as hard. "All I understand at this moment is that you knew Lord Voldemort would invoke the Shield of Scathach in Diagon Alley and you failed to cancel the event; that you knew the Dark Lord would kidnap a whole host of people and you allowed it to occur; that you will allow Lord Voldemort to attempt murder on a child in hopes that the Chosen One will be marked. Is any of this wrong, Albus? Please, do tell me I'm wrong! Because I dearly hope that I am on all three counts--but that is not the case, is it? Is it?"

"I never knew you thought so lowly of me, Minerva," said Albus sadly, his blue eyes grave. "Alas, I would never have imagined that you would actually believe me capable of such acts. I admit I am hurt by your--"

"Enough, Albus," said Minerva softly. "Please, enough with the lies, enough with your false patronising words. Just tell me the truth--not as you would sugar-coat it with others. You and I have known each other for the better of sixty years now. Tell me the truth, Albus Dumbledore, friend. What have you done?"

There a moment of silence, wherein both were staring into each others' eyes, a wordless battle of wills between two leaders--and finally Albus Dumbledore spoke. "Doppelgangers, Minerva. Minister Bagnold and a few others I was sure would be targeted have been relocated to safety, and their Polyjuiced doppelgangers were placed in visible locations. Of course, Nicolas and I were not sure of all who Voldemort would try to kidnap, yet we were sure of a handful, and they have all been doubled."

"And the Potters? The Longbottoms?"

"It was a tremendously difficult decision; you must acknowledge that, Minerva--yet I had to make it. The Potters and the Longbottoms were not doubled in my hopes that Lord Voldemort would mark his equal."

"I see," said Minerva sadly. You are just as manipulative as I remember, old friend. "And the Diagon Alley Halloween Festival? What about that? Did you really not warn anyone? Have you no protection for them?" Merlin, four of my students are attending the Festival. Four!--and probably another fifteen or so combined from the other Houses!

"Minerva, if the Ministry tried to tighten too much of its security, Lord Voldemort would have been suspicious, and thus more careful. We needed to lull him into a false sense of security that we were still blind to his upcoming strike during the Festival. Surely you see and understand that, my dear."

"So," said Minerva slowly. "You are telling me you did nothing? Nothing?"

"Yes," said Albus gently, "I was forced to do nothing, Minerva. And for that, I am very sorry. More sorry than even you might realise."

Merlin! thought Minerva with dread. My students... who were they? Alex? Yes, Alex Smith, a Muggle-born fifth-year. Patricia Stones, a pure-blood seventh-year. And two others... Merlin protect them!

When she spoke again, she found that her voice had a rather rough quality to it: "And what, Albus Dumbledore, is your plan now? I assume you have a plan to get around the Shield of Scathach?" Her students. Alex, Patricia... Ted! Yes, Ted Allen. And Spinnet, Oliver Spinnet. Please, be safe!

"Yes, an ingenious one, if I do say so myself," replied the Headmaster, as he reached for another sweet.

"And that would involve what, exactly?"

"Tunnels," said Albus pleasantly. "Tunnels dug beneath the surface, beneath Diagon Alley. The Shield of Scathach is truly a powerful ward against any and all intrusions from almost all directions--almost all. The lines of fire prevent any direct strike from both ground and sky--but from beneath... from beneath there is no defence."

"And how do you think you'll manage that without alerting Lord Voldemort? The Shield detects any magic cast within its perimeter--and would surely detect anything below or above."

"That is the beauty of it, my dear Minerva. I strictly forbade any use of magic to dig out the tunnel--in fact, I have even asked that all workers be stripped of their wands. Indeed, every inch of dirt is being removed through Muggle means. Why do you think I am sitting here with you for so long? I am patiently waiting for confirmation that the tunnel has been extended far enough below the street."

"But that would hardly be enough, Albus! There are the lines of fire themselves to consider--even if you come at them from the ground, Lord Voldemort could easily command the lines to shift and ensnare those who come out from the tunnel opening. Surely you know this!"

"Of course, of course. However, I believe I have that covered. Not to worry--"

"How could I not worry, Albus, with you making decisions such as these without consultation? I thought you trusted me enough to have informed me earlier of the situation!"

"I thought about informing you, Minerva. It concerned me most greatly that I had to conceal this from you and the Order. Yet I had heard of your injuries and did not wish to disturb your rest--"

"That is absolutely absurd, Albus! Perhaps such an argument would have worked if you had been dealing with a smaller issue--yet with something this big, this vast in scale--no! No! I cannot accept such rubbish coming from you, Headmaster! Why did you not call on me? Why did you make such decisions without even informing the Order? Without informing me? Do you really not trust us so?"

"Of course I trust you, Minerva, I trust you most dearly. Never doubt that. I truly did not wish aggravate you. I thought perhaps that--"

"Why is it then that I find your words so hard to believe? No matter what you say, it is your actions that tell the true story, Albus. And what I see right now, what I know of your actions tonight--no, I cannot believe you."

"Minerva--"

"No, Albus, do you not understand? Can you not see it? Have you already lost perspective? Take a step back and look at what you've done tonight with an objective eye, Headmaster! Look closely! Compare what you've done tonight with what you would have done even a decade ago. Albus, you tried to bind me! You allowed Lord Voldemort to get his hands on children! You--"

Suddenly the fire glowing in the Headmaster's hearth roared up in the greenish glare of the Floo, cutting off Minerva's words, and a weary-looking, dirt-stained face appeared--it was Barty Crouch. "Dumbledore! It's done! The--" the man glanced suspiciously at Minerva "--the tunnels have been dug completely. We are set and ready."

Albus stood swiftly. "That is excellent news, Barty. And what of Lord Voldemort? What has happened so far?"

"It's not a pleasant sight," sighed Crouch. "From our doppelgangers we've learned that there's been already a massacre of Muggle-borns--something to do with bone fires or some such nonsense. And... and something with Harry Potter and some prophecy." Crouch shook his head with a puzzled expression on his face. "It's all very confusing. I've heard reports about You-Know-Who going on and on about some future and time-travelling? Yes, I know--I can hardly believe it myself, but there it is. Ah, and Neville Longbottom was marked with a silver snake--sources claim You-Know-Who was saying something about a 'Chosen One' or some such."

Minerva felt like she was drowning in her shock. It was as though she had just cast a spell way beyond her control and ability, and was struggling to pull free from its overwhelming backlash. Crouch's report flowed over her, and it felt like every other word from his mouth brought another shock with it. Massacre, bone fires, Harry Potter, prophecy, future, time-travelling, Neville Longbottom marked, Chosen One... Merlin!

Crouch hesitated. "And Harry Potter was fed something called the Devil's Herb. Made him grow up, age up. Then apparently he duelled with a dozen or so Death Eaters--not to mention that James Potter also managed to steal a wand and joined in the fight."

"I... see," said Albus. He seemed completely stunned--but Minerva could hardly blame him. She herself could hardly breathe through her disbelief. Devil's Herb! Harry's grown up! Merlin!

"Yes, I know it's surprising--and I'm sure no one over on this side understands it any better, but we need to hurry, Dumbledore," said Crouch through the Floo.

"Of course, of course," said Albus after a moment. "Yes, we must move quickly. I shall be there in a moment, Barty."

Crouch nodded, then disappeared.

Well, thought Minerva, the situation's just become exponentially complicated. Of course, with Harry Potter involved, she really should have expected the unexpected.

"Minerva, look at me," said Albus. "Lord Voldemort must be stopped. He has caused too much destruction as it is."

"Destruction you allowed to happen," retorted Minerva. She drew in a deep breath, her wand in her hand. "But you are right. We must move now, first. And later, then, we must continue our discussion, Albus."

"Alas, I must say no," replied the Headmaster--and suddenly his wand was pointed right at her.

What--? Minerva's wand exploded out from her hand, and a force of air slammed her back and against the wall. A Silencing Charm prevented her scream from being heard.

"I'm truly sorry, Minerva. I never expected our discussion to turn into this--and I find the results less than satisfactory. I had thought you would see reason if I could just explain fully the situation to you, but I now realise my belief in such was rather trusting and false. I am, I admit, most disappointed by your irrationality and inability to see the bigger picture. Sacrifices, my dear, must be made for the greater good, for the triumph of the Light. I am saddened that you are incapable of accepting this universal fact."

How dare you? Minerva snarled wordlessly and felt her magic boil with cold rage. You have no right to demand such sacrifices from others! Her magic came rushing up through her with revenge, gathering its strength just beneath the spell holding her against the wall, preparing to strike out against the man she had once considered her greatest friend--

"I'm sorry again, Minerva, but you have forced my hand. Obli--"

She screamed as her magic exploded out through her every pore--

"--viate!"

--her magic lashed out at the spell keeping her against the wall--

--a spear-shaped violent, crushing force pierced through the nearly-impenetrable physical manifestation of her magic--

--and the world turned black; Minerva knew no more.

*****^^^^^*****

"THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING: YOU HAVE BEEN SURROUNDED. DROP YOUR WANDS AND PLACE YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD. ALL CIVILIANS--"

"Enough," called Lord Voldemort coldly, and the Death Eaters froze. The Dark Lord dismissed Harry and his father contemptuously, turning around to face the speaker who was standing at the end of the street with a wand to his own throat. It was Bartemius Crouch, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "Barty Crouch Senior, if I am not mistaken," the Dark Lord's voice rang with scorn and power, easily audible everywhere. "What brings you here so late?"

"You have been surrounded!" thundered Crouch, though not as loudly as his first statements. "Drop your wand and submit to the authority of the Ministry of Magic. All Death Eaters are hereby demanded by the Ministry to lower your wands and submit to the authority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I repeat, you--"

"Do shut up," said the Dark Lord harshly, his voice wintry. "Your arrogance appalls me, Crouch. You and your Ministry are nothing but cowards. You hide yourselves when the true damage is being done--you bury yourselves in fear when my bone fires are ravaging through the Muggle-borns your Ministry was sworn to protect. And now you arrive hours late and demand that I surrender? You bring in your Aurors now that the fighting is nearly done, hoping to perhaps make it seem as though you were doing something. Pathetic, really--but what can you do about it?"

"Lower this Shield of Scathach!" roared Crouch. "Else you will be subjected to the mercies of--"

"Useless words, Crouch," hissed Lord Voldemort coldly. "What you speak is of nothing but words. You have neither the power nor the might to enforce your pathetic threats."

"You have one last chance! Lower the Shield, or it will be lowered by the Ministry of Magic!"

The Dark Lord roared with laughter. "'Or it will be lowered by the Ministry of Magic?'" repeated Lord Voldemort contemptuously. "Dismal; absolutely dismal, Crouch. You threaten to lower this Shield of mine as though you were about talking about some flimsy ward conjured by one of your worthless Aurors." Lord Voldemort shook his head. "You have obviously done some research to understand that this is indeed the Shield of Scathach. Yet you have forgotten the obvious: this is a Shield conjured by the very blood of those you failed to protect, and is quite impossible to break without my approval. Is it not ironic that your failure now protects me so absolutely? Well, no matter. You cannot think to hope you shall ever pass the Shield."

"Is that what you believe, Tom?" called a different voice, a calm and pleasant one.

"Ah, Dumbledore!"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, appearing next to Crouch. "Surrender yourself, Tom. You are surrounded and outnumbered."

"I think not!" hissed Lord Voldemort. He raised his wand and suddenly the Shield of Scathach flared up swiftly in a brilliant cascade of silver light, swirling flames of bright silver at the edges, rising up fifty feet. A wall of fire was formed with the roaring flames, and the sight of the Aurors and Dumbledore disappeared abruptly behind the shining Shield.

"Now," spoke the Dark Lord as he turned around to face Harry once again. "Where were we? Ah yes, the Potters--"

But though Harry could not see neither the Aurors nor Dumbledore through the Shield, he could still hear the shouts of surprise and yells of astonishment--and he heard Dumbledore speak again. The Headmaster's calm but firm voice pierced through the nearly deafening bellow of the blazing silver fire-wall, seeming as though he were speaking directly into Harry's ear, into everyone's ears: "Then you have forced my hand, Tom. Fawkes!"

"NOW!" roared Crouch, his voice echoing faintly from beyond the boundaries of the Shield--

Then a powerful scream of challenge swamped the whole street, and a burst of red and gold fire exploded into shape far above Harry's head. Fawkes materialised with a song of triumph and power, a rapid-paced music filling everyone's ears with the rage and vengeance of Light, a beacon of power shining light down at them from the heavens above--

Fight fire with fire.

--and the Dark Mark shattered apart into a million shards, and a sprinkling rain of sickly green scattered down. Fawkes resounded with a song of jubilation, red and gold flashing fire leaving a trail of brilliant light as he spun and swirled--

Fire on fire.

--then he dived. Down, down, down, a vigorous song rippling out before him. Swirling flames of gold and red light streamed behind him as he spun down towards the ground. The phoenix sang out a challenge both fierce and compelling.

The Shield of Scathach answered.

Fire against fire.

Silver met red and gold, billowing fire clashed against the music of the phoenix, and Fawkes disappeared briefly in a cocoon of silver flames.

Fawkes, no! Harry yelled silently. Voldemort! Take him down! He controls the Shield! Snapping out of the daze that came because of everything that had just happened, he jumped into motion.

But then Fawkes reappeared in a brilliant cascade of golden light, an explosion of red luminosity that flared intensely against the silver vines of fire that threatened to engulf him--

And Harry yelled at Lord Voldemort, who appeared to be solely concentrated on the phoenix above, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Green light flashed, and Lord Voldemort spun out of the way just before the Killing Curse struck, and Harry watched as the Dark Lord swung around to face him. "Harry Potter!" hissed Lord Voldemort harshly. "How dare--?"

BANG!

The ground far, far away turned up in a column of dirt that for an instant froze, seemingly floating like a stormy cloud--then debris rained down just as blue-tinged shields began to spring up around the civilians cowering on the ground. Red-robed Aurors began pouring out of the hole with roars of rage, and Death Eaters spaced throughout the street began to attack. Civilians closest to the hole were being dragged in and Summoned to safety--

--and Fawkes's vigorous song of challenge changed sharply in rhythm and tone, jerking everyone's attention to him for an instant, and now a song of jubilation and victory of triumph rose around the street. Everywhere Harry looked he could see red vines of fire entangled with the silver of the Shield of Scathach, and it was weakened enough that Aurors from outside the boundaries began to push through.

"Potter!" Lord Voldemort screamed in fury, and Harry dived desperately out of the way as a spell tore out from the Dark Lord's wand and raced across the intervening space between them--

Then Dumbledore appeared, and a storm of his magic slammed into Lord Voldemort, who barely managed to turn the incoming force away--then the two were duelling fiercely. Lights of colour and power, roaring and shattering of sound, explosions and screams as Light met Dark, and Dark met Light; air turned to fire turned to ice turned to light turned to dark--storms of silver and red and gold and green.

Harry rolled back onto his feet wearily--and swiftly dodged to the side, swinging around as a spell raced past where he had just stood; there before him was Peter Pettigrew, his teeth bared in a silent snarl. "Wormtail!"

"Avada Kedavra!" snarled Wormtail, and Harry dodged to the left as he struck out his own spell. Sectumsempra!

Wormtail avoided that curse and pulled his wand back as though about to strike Harry with another spell--

Then James appeared with a bellow of fury, "Round two, Pettigrew! Pulsus Flamma!" An explosion of fire shot out from James's wand, and Harry could only watch as the two former friends fought and duelled.

Harry spun around, losing sight of his father as another Death Eater stepped forth and cast curse after curse at him, and he barely managed in his haste to slap them away--before Moody appeared out of nowhere and came down at that Death Eater, the two dueling fiercely as they dodged and cursed and struck spell after spell. Harry thought he heard the Auror growl distantly, "Rosier!"

Everywhere Harry turned he could see blue shields protecting the civilians, maintained by the dozen or so Aurors on brooms. There was a constant movement as the bystanders crawled over to the hole in the ground, which had a ring of Aurors around it protecting the escape route from Death Eaters.

Then Lord Voldemort was suddenly before Harry again and Dumbledore was behind him. The Dark Lord's wand was quickly pointed directly at Harry's chest and the man hissed, "Avada Kedavra!" But Harry's legs were forcefully pulled out from under him--courtesy of Dumbledore, he knew--and the Killing Curse flew over his head. "DUMBLEDORE!"

Fuck! Harry rolled away from Lord Voldemort and attempted to stand, just barely managing to raise a shield when a Dark spell exploded out from the Dark Lord's wand and slammed into it. Bloody hell! Harry spun away, just as Dumbledore raised his wand and a powerful spell exploded out at Lord Voldemort, the force emanating from the spell so great that Harry could feel its power pressing against him--

--and Lord Voldemort swung his wand out before him in a grand gesture, flinging out his magic, and slapped the spell away towards Harry. Bloody hell! thought Harry. Fuck!

Drawing on all his strength, he silently screamed the most powerful shielding spell he knew. Tego Texi Tectum! Dumbledore's curse crashed into the half-formed Golden Shield with a force that lifted Harry off his feet even though his Golden Shield held--or at least it seemed to hold for two seconds, before it collapsed under Dumbledore's spell. Harry screamed out in pain as the remnant shards slammed into him. It was as though his whole body were seized inside a mighty grip and shaken. He could feel the reverberating vibrations deep within his bones, could feel the ache in his teeth, could feel his blood rush to his head--

The pain ended, and he could do nothing but moan with agony on the ground. Oh, Merlin. Ow. He forced his eyes open, and found Lord Voldemort's back facing him, Dumbledore casting another spell at the Dark Lord. Now's my chance, he thought wearily."Avada Kedavra!" hissed Harry again from the ground, pointing directly at Lord Voldemort, and a green flash of light raced swiftly towards the Dark Lord--

Then Lord Voldemort swirled around with a swish of his robes and the green light flashed past him towards Dumbledore, who had been standing just opposite him. Fuck! No! cursed Harry silently as he sprang up--then realised belatedly that the spell Dumbledore had just cast at Lord Voldemort was now heading towards him. Bloody fucking hell!

Harry dived away desperately--I do not want to get hit by another spell from Dumbledore!--wincing as his left shoulder throbbed in spikes of agony once again, and rolled back onto his feet; just as Dumbledore's spell imploded where he had just been moments ago, and the recoil of power slammed into his back, making him fly. Blast it!

"ENOUGH!" screamed Lord Voldemort. "YOU WILL DIE, POTTER! IT WILL SOON BE MIDNIGHT! AND NO MATTER WHAT DUMBLEDORE DOES, YOU--WILL--DIE!"

Harry fought against the shudder that threatened to spread through his body, and jumped back onto his feet, his breathing harsh and erratic.

"Master!" yelled a voice. Harry swung towards the voice, and saw that it was Wormtail. "I've got him, my Lord!" James was bound tightly and magically gagged, lying helplessly by Wormtail's feet. No! No! NO!

"Harry Potter!" hissed Lord Voldemort harshly. "Your father will die for your impertinence! AVADA--"

Time slowed. Several things happened at once.

Harry roared with fury as he jumped and dived in the way of Lord Voldemort's aim. Wormtail jumped back, apparently surprised by Harry's bold move. Dumbledore summoned James towards himself--but James was moving way too slowly if he wanted to avoid the Killing Curse.

"--KEDAVRA!"

NO! screamed Harry as he turned midair to face the green light flaring out slowly from the Dark Lord's wand. Without thought his wand rose up and pointed at Lord Voldemort--the Killing Curse loomed directly ahead--ERRADICO SEPARTE--he could distantly hear the rush of wind, the wind of death--ERRADICO SEPARTE--green, green, green--ERRADICO SEPARTE--

Death, death, death...

... HARRY! NOT HARRY! PLEASE NOT HARRY!

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing...

... NOOOOOOOOO!

Agony. Pain. Scream. Scream. Scream...

... TAKE ME INSTEAD! NOT HARRY!

Why, why, why... why...

... Death is but the next great adventure...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A weak woman's voice. I hope he looks like his papa. He... he's to be named Tom for his father, and Marvolo for my father. Tom Marvolo Riddle. A feeble voice, a different woman's. You're a funny boy. Odd. A boy's voice, whispered. I knew I was different. I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something. A teen's voice, cold and harsh. Don't you remember me, Father? It's me, Tom Riddle, your wizard son. Mother named me after you. A young man's voice. What I don't understand, though--just out of curiosity--I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number? An older voice, slightly higher, and colder than ever. I think you must know that I have seen and done much since I left this place... Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies... I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed. A harsh voice, colder than ice. I am Lord Voldemort. Avada Kedavra!

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE.

AVADA KEDAVRA.

No, whispered a voice from the farthest and deepest corner of his mind. No. I am Harry Potter. I am Harry Potter.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

AVADA KEDAVRA.

No, insisted the voice. No. I am Harry. Harry James Potter.

LORD VOLDEMORT.

No! I am Harry Potter.

AVADA KEDAVRA.

VOLDEMORT.

Harry Potter.

VOLDEMORT!

HARRY JAMES POTTER!

"NOW! Fawkes, do it NOW!"

I am Harry James Potter, confirmed the voice with a tone of satisfaction. I am Harry James Potter.

I am Harry James Potter!

Yes, agreed the voice. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

"No, no, you're right... too damaged...."

What happened? thought Harry tiredly. What's going on?

I am Harry Potter.

"Yes, at least for a while... Merlin, Fawkes... thought we were...."

I hurt. I hurt. My head feels like I've just stuffed something in that doesn't belong there.

"Where is he? Can't... him?... There! Quick, Fawkes! Heal me!"

A song. So beautiful. I want to cry. Why do I want to cry? I want to cry.

Drop, drop, drop....

Rain? Why is there rain? Rain on me? Me?

I am Harry James Potter.

"I remember how woozy I was after getting hit with the Killing Curse. Harry, you all right there? Come on, open your eyes for me. Harry?"

Sleep. Unconciousness. It pulled. It tugged. Sleep.

"No, Harry, you can't sleep now. Wake up, Harry. For me. Wake up, come on! You can do this! Just open your eyes. On three, okay? One, two, three--open!"

Harry's eyes snapped open. It took a second before he could force his eyes to focus, and they finally snapped into place. He looked up at the person standing above him--

--and saw himself. It was as though he were looking into a mirror. The mirror version of him smirked. "Welcome back, Harry. You've just been healed by Fawkes, so you should physically be fine. Your head hurt, still?"

Harry slowly shook his head. No.

"Good," said his mirror image firmly. "Now, you're no doubt wondering who I am. I'm you. At least, a seven-day older version of you."

Oh.

His mirror image grinned. "Yeah, I remember feeling that when my future self told me. Now, do you think you can stand? We really need to wrap this up. Come on, stand on three again. I'll help you. Ready? Good. One, two, three!"

With the help of his now-revealed future self, Harry stood unsteadily on rather jelly-like legs. "W-what's going on?" he asked wearily. "What the hell happened?"

"You destroyed Voldemort's hand, including the Potter signet ring, with your Erradico Separte. The Horcrux-connection between him and the ring snapped--and get this--just as the Killing Curse hit you. Or me, depending on how we look at it."

Harry groaned. "Don't tell me. I'm a Horcrux again."

"Yep," his future self confirmed, nodding.

"Bloody fucking hell," muttered Harry in reply. His future self only shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," said the other. "Voldemort's gone for a bit. The Killing Curse rebounded off you again and hit him. Apparently the splitting of his soul weakened him temporarily enough that he poofed and went spirit."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two walked slowly through the many bodies littering the ground. It seemed as though everyone was unconscious. In fact, even Dumbledore was out of it. "What happened?"

The other only grinned in reply. "What do you think happened? We did."

"No, I meant to them," muttered Harry wearily.

"I know," said his future. "And I mean it. We did. Or at least in their case, I happened. Knocked them all out, I did."

"Why?"

"Monosyllabic, I see. Nah, don't worry. I know how tired you are--since I was just as tired myself seven days ago." His future led them through the myriad of bodies, appearing to know his course exactly. "I've cleared their memories--with the help of Fawkes, of course. Can't have them remembering, now can we? We really can't afford it. Actually, Fawkes did most of it. I just lent him some power."

"Oh," said Harry, blinking.

"Yeah, exactly," said the other. Suddenly they stopped, and Harry realised that they were standing right in front of their parents. "Now this is where I leave you. Here, take this." His future passed an object into Harry's hand.

It was a Time-Turner. Well, that explains the seven-day future part, I guess. I wonder how I got hold of it though, since it is illegal and very tightly controlled--

"Seven turns," interrupted his future.

"What?"

"Seven turns," the other slowly repeated. "Got that? Only seven. No more, no less. And you can't change anything. Well, not anything drastic. That is, everything today has to happen, got that? Good. Now, you do need to change a few things--but you'll see what I mean when the time comes." Harry's future self was rummaging through his pockets, apparently looking for something. "Aha! Found it!" He held up a vial full of some potion. "Shrinking potion--de-aging, if you will. Only temporary though. Fuck Voldemort for actually doing a proper job of something, for once. We'll be eighteen for a while, Harry," he explained when Harry gave him a questioning look, "and this potion is the only way to get rid of any suspicions. Should last eight to twelve hours, hopefully." With a grimace at the potion, he raised it to his lips. "Cheers." He upturned the vial and swallowed the whole of it as quickly as possible. "Bah! At least it tastes better than it smells. Gah!"

"Um," said Harry intelligently. His brain just wasn't working too well yet.

His future self began to shrink before his very eyes, his hair disappearing and all his limbs shortening. It looked like a far more pleasant process than what he had felt when he had been so harshly aged up. At least, Harry's future self wasn't complaining at all. When the shrinking finally seemed to stop, Harry stooped over stiffly and gently lifted up a baby version of himself.

"Numbin' pothions," explained the baby after a moment. Harry was surprised for a moment when his future self answered the question he was just wondering silently, but then realised how stupid that was. Of course he knows what I'm thinking. He's me.

I am Harry James Potter.

"Tha' should happen for a while," said the baby. "Flashbah's too." Flashbacks. Of course, my soul's just been merged with Voldemort's. Of course.

"Now, wemember the rules," said the baby sternly. Harry hid a grin at the sight. "Oh, and I betta' give you a hint: the Weasleys weren't owiginally par' of the Order. Now, go!" The baby pointed towards their parents, and Harry stiffly but gently lowered his future self to them. I'm so tired. The baby crawled into Lily's arms, and wiggled himself deeper into her embrace. Green eyes pinned down Harry's, and the baby spoke one last time. "Go."

Harry nodded, then turned to give Diagon Alley one last look. It was in an utter chaotic mess.

Merlin. I am Harry James Potter.

He refused to consider that there might have been an echo somewhere in the back of his mind that had hissed in reply, I am Lord Voldemort.

Taking a deep breath, Harry spun the Time-Turner, and was gone.

I am Harry James Potter.