The dead walk the earth!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns all. Don't we all wish we were her?
Summary: The summer after 'Order of the Phoenix', Harry is depressed and angry. And he starts thinking. Is death really irreversible?
After disappearing for a year, Harry has returned, wearing the pins that identify him as a Necromancer. It's time to get ready for the war with Voldemort.
Spoilers for: Books 1 to 5. (HBP never happened. Really.)
Just like home
It was a merry, yet foul-smelling group that strolled through the halls of Hogwarts. The word 'strolled' had to be used very loosely, since some of the zombies weren't properly equipped to walk, while others had so much loose bits they left a trail behind that Filch would just love to clean up...
After some problems with hungry Thestrals they had stopped searching for an entry to the Chamber in the Forbidden Forest. Apparently Thestrals didn't mind how long their food had been dead, and this knowledge cost Harry's army two arms and a foot.
Thus Dumbledore reluctantly let them inside the castle. To Harry's surprise most of the professors were present, and they all stared at Harry's merry little band when they passed the Entrance Hall on their way to Myrtle's toilet. When a few of the zombies waved at them, one of the older professors fainted and Sybil Trelawnly screamed, "The dead walk the earth! The dead walk the earth!"
"Yes, Sybil, we can see that," said McGonnagall indifferently. She had been forewarned by Dumbledore, of course.
"Oh dear. Did I just see Mr. Potter passing by?"wondered Flitwick, who hadn't been warned about anything lately. "The Daily Prophet said some disturbing things about him..."
"The Daily Prophet is rubbish," McGonnagall snapped. "You shouldn't believe anything you read in that rag, Filius."
"The proof is walking in front of our noses, Minerva,"Spout argued. "Very literally, I might say."
Flitwick's face brightened, possibly at the prospect of all the questions he wanted to ask Mr. Potter. He was, after all, head of Ravenclaw. "There hasn't been a Necromancer in - oh, I don't know... I'd say aleast five hundred years!"
"Dear god, Filius, you look like you want to dissect the boy -" Sinistra murmured. Filius started. "Oh, no, of course I wouldn't want to hurt him, just ask a few questions maybe, but -"
"Good," Snape cut him off. "Because if someone is dissecting Potter, it will beme."
Dumbledore shivered slightly when Harry hissed the password to the sink. Parseltongue was one of those languages that crawled up and down your spine when you heard it.
Harry stared into the dark hole. Even knowing it wasn't such a long way down, he would have felt better if he had Lockhart nearby to land on, like last time. Ah, well, he'd just have to make do.
"Dead people first!" he ordered happily. While a bunch of deceased flesh and bones wasn't the most appetizing thing to land on, it was better than being buried in them, which would surely happen if Harry went down the slide first and the seventy others followed.
"Is is a long way down?" Dumbledore asked, staring at the hole.
Harry shook his head. "Not really. You fall a little, but then you land on a slide and that goes on for a while, yes. I thinks it's rather deep below Hogwarts, but it all goes rather fast."
"Then I'll go first, if you don't mind," said Dumbledore, politely.
Harry wondered why the Headmaster would want to do that, but it was his school, so... "Go ahead, sir."
The old wizard lowered himself in the hole and disappeared. Harry looked at his little army. "It's your turn."
"I don't know..." One of them, a woman with half aface said. "I'm a bit afraid of heights."
"It's not so high, Master Harry said," another one argued. "Besides, it's a slide. Just like an amusement park!" He didn't wait for a reply and jumped into the hole.
There was a silence. Then, a very small 'ow' could be heard. Harry tried to disguise it with a cough, hoping Dumbledore was alright."I went down there once myself, it's nothing to be afraid of. Besides, you're dead. What could possibly happen that's worse than what already happened to you?"
"I accidently turned my little sister into a tiger," a zombie that was mostly bones admitted. "Nothing quite beats being eaten by arelative."
"You see? A dark hole in the floor can't be worse than the insides of a tiger," Harry reasoned. The sixty-nine zombies nodded, some of them still a bit unsure, and started jumping into the hole.
Harry waited till the last before he followed his army. The way down was pretty eventless, apart from a small collison with an arm that had apparently got stuck.
The Necromancer landed on a pile of dead bodies, which was a rather soft way to land. "Thanks, guys." He struggled to get off the pile, waving a bit with the arm he'd found. "Which one of you lost this?"
"Darn, I knew I was missing something," one of the zombies said. He took the arm and looked around. "Does anyone happen to have athread and needle?"
"No, sorry." Harry glanced around. "Where's professor Dumbledore?"
A wrinkled arm arose from the pile of zombies. "Could someone help me up, please?" a muffled voice asked. The majority of the zombies managed to get back on their feet and Dumbledore became visible. Harry helped him up. "I'm sorry sir, we should have waited a bit before following you down here. At least long enough for you to get up."
"I collided with Mr. Dumbledore, Master Harry, and then we couldn't get up fast enough before someone else fell on top of us, and well, you saw what happened..." The zombie shrugged sheepishly.
Dumbledore massaged his poor, old, aching back muscles. The things he had to endure...
"Are you okay, professor?"
He smiled benignly. "I'm fine, Harry."
Harry led them through the darkness, to the actual Chamber. A zombie whistled softly when she saw the shedded Basilisk skin.
It was only when they entered the Chamber and the stench of dead Basilisk attacked their noses, that Harry realised something.
The Basilisk was still here. At least, its corpse was...
After inspecting the Chamber, Dumbledore made himself a comfortable chair out of thin air and sat down, to watch the proceedings. Sixty-nine zombies were sitting in front of Slytherin's statue, while another zombie was arguing loudly with Harry.
"You killed my Basilisk!"
"It was trying to eatme!"
"I don't care!"
Who would have expected the ghost of Salazar Slytherin to hang around a thousand years, just to wait for the opportunity to inhabit azombie?
Harry growled. "I'll revive it, okay?"
"You'd better!" The zombie that housed Slytherin's ghost snarled. "And a full revival, not just another zombie. My Sally was awonderful specimen and she wouldn't hurt a fly."
"Are you deaf? She tried to eat me!"
"I'm sure she had her reasons."
Harry shook his head. "Why did I summon your spirit anyway? The history books claim you were a Dark Lord, not that you fought one."
The Slytherin-zombie snorted. "Those history books would say to same about you, idiot. In those days, everyone with a bit of power who practised Dark arts called himself a Lord."
"You're saying you're innocent?"
"Hey now, there's no reason to insult me!" Slytherin smirked. "Besides, I never claimed not to be a Dark Lord."
Harry groaned. "Great. You do know we'll be fighting someone who claims to be your descendant, right?"
Slytherin blinked. "We are?" At Harry's nod, he hesistated. "There's probably no chance you'll change your mind and fight alongside him, I suppose?"
"Seeing as Voldemort's planning to kill all halfbloods, muggleborns, 'blood traitors' and muggles, and I'm a halfblood myself, I'd say: no."
"Is he really planning to kill all of them? There won't be anyone left to rule over!"
"Yes. And he's a halfblood himself."
Slytherin grimaced. "That my noble line should end this way... Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Muggles, but I still think they should be kept away from the Wizarding World. They like burning people too much."
Another zombie butted in. "I thought they didn't manage to burn any real witches? The Flame-Freezing Spell -"
"- is useless if they've taken your wand. Believe me, I know. It's actually how I've died," yet another zombie added.
"Well, the Muggles we have right now are a bit more open-minded," Harry quickly assured them. "They don't burn people anymore." They might try to dissect them to try and see how magic works, but not all of them would do that, he added silently."Anyway, let me give you guys a short briefing. We're fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I know you're from different times, but all of you have fought a Dark Lord at some point in your life. You've got experience in fighting maniacs who want to take over the world. I suggest you share that experience and get used to the bodies you're inhabiting, so you'll be ready to fight. You know we're below a school, so I'd appreciate if neither of you goes wandering the hallways. Well, except at night, if you encounter Filch try to hug him, he'd love that -"
"Harry!" Dumbledore admonished him. Harry smiled sheepishly. "Forget I just said that. Err... Oh, I suppose you're new to this zombie thing? Well, you won't be able to use any magic yourselves, but you'll be highly resistant to it. And please try not to fall apart before the battle."
"We'll do our best," the zombie who'd lost his arm promised. "Could you get me some thread and a needle, Master?"
"And when are you going to revive my Sally?"
"Master, could you get us some chairs or something, my legs are a bit loose and if I have to get up from the floor -"
"We'd appreciate some books, Master Harry -"
Dumbledore smiled when he saw how cornered Harry looked, trying to listen to everyone at the same time. He rose from his chair, disspelled it, and walked over to the young Necromancer.
When he was sure he got Harry's attention, he said:"Since I see you're busy, I'll arrange for someone else to get your books and other necessities."
Harry blinked. "Wait. Books?"
"Of course. You do know that school is about to start?Tomorrow is the first of Septembre."
Harry got the classic 'deer-in-headlights' look on his face. "School?"
"Yes, of course. You did miss a year, but I'm sure you'll manage." Dumbledore smiled. "And I'll see to it that some equipment for your guests will be delivered in front of the sink upstairs. Oh, don't bother showing me the way out, Fawkes will carry me."
He turned his back to Harry and the zombies, and smiled even wider, his eyes twinkling like mad.