Keep yourself together, Harry.
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.)
The Slytherin zombie had been glad to accept the box with adders. When Harry told him what Snape had been planning for the snakes, he even squeeked - quite girly, in fact. Of course, this he denied. It had been a very manly squeek. Really.
Meanwhile, Harry had other things to worry about. Arestless feeling had taken charge of his body and mind, making him pace and snap at people. Ginny had even run away crying, and was still angry with him for yelling at her. He knew he shouldn't have yelled - sure, she had messed up his concentration, but it had been a very basic spell - and yet, he couldn't help himself. It was, he thought sourly, as if all his senses were screaming at him to be alert.
All his senses.
He stopped pacing so suddenly he nearly tripped over his own feet. Al his senses. Of course! His finely tuned mental Sneakoscope was going haywire, his training telling him in all possible ways: there were going to be many deaths, and soon. That had to mean Voldemort was planning an attack.
Harry turned around and set out to Dumbledore's office. He'd better warn the Headmaster.
The day crept forward. It seemed to go on forever, every minute a tiny eternity compressed into sixty seconds. Harry had told his army to get ready, and was now on his way to the Room of Requirements. The Order of the Phoenix would have an emergency meeting there.
Dumbledore was walking next to Harry. The old wizard felt an increasing worry, and it wasn't entirely because of the pending battle. No, it was because of Harry, who was acting decidedly odd.
The Necromancer had his eyes half closed, and kept turning his head left to right and back again.
Harry angled his face towards another current in the complex flows of spirit energies. The nearing battle promised to be one with many fatalities, and the magic in the air smelled of it. Even though it hadn't happened yet, Hogwarts responded to the deaths that would take place on her grounds. Death magic was always a bit off, temporally. The power generated by many deaths always leaked into the recent past as well as in the future. For someone with the right nose, Hogwarts reeked of Death Magic.
The power flows reacted with Harry, mingling with his own magic, making him a bit light-headed. The magic reacted with his, worrying at the bonds that kept his soul attached to his body.
Dumbledore openly frowned at Harry when the young man seemed to walk faster than his body. A faintly glowing shadow was moving just that little bit quicker, letting the body follow it sluggishly.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, stopping. Harry stopped too, his body catching up with his soul and flowing together again. "What is it, professor?"
Dumbledore just shook his head. "Never mind." He resumed walking. Harry's ghostly being became visible again.
This frightened some of the Order members, and made Moody grumble even more. When Harry asked what the problem was, Hermione softly advised him to wave his hand in front of his face.
Harry stared with a worried frown at his own hand, the corporeal, flesh-and-blood one following the glowing one. "Oh, Merlin! This isn't supposed to happen yet!"
"Can you explain what is happening to you?" Kingsley asked.
Harry grimaced. "The next level of Necromancy, probably triggered by the coming battle. It would appear I'm half-dead."
There was silence after this. That is, until Snape raised an eyebrow. "Only half? More's the pity."
"You do know I could easily rip your soul from your body when I'm like this?" Harry casually mentioned. "Not that I'm threathening you, but let's just say that it's not in your best interests to keep annoying me." Another sigh. "This is bad news. For me, at least."
"Why?" Sirius asked. "It's a good thing if you're getting more powerful, right?"
"Yeah, but the next level is fully-dead. And I doubt He will let me leave a second time."
Half the Order panicked at this, especially Sirius, who started yelling that if Death wanted his Godson, He should fight it out with him! But Harry tried to quiet them - there weren't there to talk about him, after all.
"There'll be a battle," he reminded them. "We should focus on that."
They were coming.
Darkness had fallen, and all was quiet in Hogsmeade. All lights in the town had gone out when the small hand of the clock passed the twelve. Yet the villagers weren't asleep.
Some of them - mostly children - had taken refugee in Hogwarts. But the majority was with the Order and Harry, waiting in the shadows until evil showed its fangs.
Wands were clasped tightly in sweaty hands. There were some Aurors present, the only ones the Ministry could spare at such a short notice. Harry ignored the glares and frightful glances he was recieving. His head had cleared, and his magic was poised to attack. Behind him, his Army of the Dead waited in silence.
Not everyone had believed Harry's warning that the attack would come today. Some of the more stubborn wizards had waited until half past ten, and then went back to their houses.
But Harry was absolutely certain. They were coming -with Death in their wake.
It happened at half past one. What seemed to be thousands of crows dropped from the sky, diving over the village and dropping odd little packages, which exploded when they hid the ground. The battle for Hogsmeade had started.
Harry started firing spells at the crows, but picking them off one by one wasn't an effective tactic. They just kept coming, with more and more packages.
It had been an effective way to make the defenders of Hogsmeade reveal themselves. While they were shooting at the birds, their attention on the sky, a group of black robed Death Eaters entered the village. Harry wasn't the only one to notice them. He tried Stunning them at first, which didn't seem to work. Perhaps they had amulets to fend off the Stunning Spell? Then he would have to try something else...
He shot off an ugly blue spell, aptly named the Suffocation Curse. The reviever didn't even stumble.
No way an amulet was that powerful! It had to be something else, but what -
The thick smell of Death Magic surrounded him. Inferi!Those he could deal with easily - but now he had to call back his army, which had just reached the ranks of the Inferi and was spending precious energy on them.
Harry called back his zombies, concentrating on the Inferi. He spread his arms, the ghostly image of them just visible. Focus, Harry...
The young Necromancer screamed. It was a truly chilling sound, a screech far beyond mortal. Those who heard it, shivered. The Inferi started to desintegrate, becoming no more than mere dust.
Voldemort knew Harry was a Necromancer. Why then had he send Inferi, creatures that shouldn't be a problem for him?
Harry turned around, right in time to avoid the Killing Curse that had been speeding towards him. Death Eaters! They had used the Inferi as a diversion, so they could sneak around him and catch him when he was unaware.
A crow dived above his head, and dropped its bomb. Harry had to jump to one side to avoid the explosion, where a Death Eater aimed a spell at him. All Harry's careful training seemed to have fled his mind.
Where was everyone? Everyxhere he looked, he only saw Death Eaters, crows and shadows. The Death Magic hung heavily in the air, being fed by every life that ended. Screams, moving shadows, flashes of spells...
Harry ducked for another green Curse, and got his mind enough in order to duel back. It was difficult. His recent promotion to half-dead had made it harder for him to regulate his power levels, making some curses either too weak or too strong. He wasn't used to it yet, and if this kept up, he wouldn't ever get used to it...
Where did all those Death Eaters keep coming from? They couldn't all be real... It had to be a nightmare, that would explain why everything was getting so hazy and muffled...
The crows where flying around him, closer and closer. He fired yet another spell at yet another Death Eater, until his wand had disappeared into the moving, feathered mass that were the crows, their beaks and talons cutting his flesh. He threw out his ghostly arms and felt those going through the crows, through the Death Eaters that had been hidden by their nearness, and he noticed something inside them giving way, ripped apart by his glowing hands.
But it wasn't enough. The crows kept coming, the spells flashed around his head, he barely evaded a falling bomb...
In the dark, moving mass, a pale face emerged. Serpentine eyes smiled at him.
Harry didn't duck in time.
The world went brilliant green.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait!