Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Horror of Harry's Horcrux
4. Harry Potter's Wild Ride
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Children of all ages once again it is a proud honor and delight for me on this joyous occasion to welcome one and all to Harry Potter's Wild Ride!" The voice that sounded vaguely and sickeningly familiar reverberated against the unknown and dark nothingness that encompassed Harry.
He didn't know where he was. He didn't really understand how he had gotten from the smallest bedroom at the prim and proper home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He just remembered the blood which covered his hand and the choice to make a sacrifice of it in the vain hopes that the messages that he had seen flitter without the aid of a proper quill grace the pages of his second diary.
Now he was here, and the voice that had echoed across the nothingness could have been screamed at the top of unknown lungs or could have been the faintest of whispers. What he did know is that there was no trust here. Whatever it was that had pushed him into making the usual rash decisions was the same blinding trust that he used whenever he went on any of his rather break-neck, scary and memorable adventures.
Did I mention that he was completely encased in darkness? Well, he was also without weight or gravity and floating in the midst of this huge expanse of nothingness. The kind of nothingness that surrounded oneself and left a pressure in one's ear that just sort of sat there doing nothing and left the one whom suffered there feeling nothing begging for any sort of thing to happen to break the monotony of it all.
Harry sat there patiently waiting for that sort of anything to happen and for quite a while he found himself bored beyond belief. It something was supposed to happen well, he was getting rather put out that it hadn't happened yet and was going to take it up with that something's management if it couldn't be bothered to do it's job right and proper.
There was at this point a certain lack of lucidity which enshrouded Harry and left him blissfully numb of every, which happened to also include himself; who he was to the point that he didn't even know what he was or what his station was or was to be, in life. He sat there waiting and that same screaming whisper came to him in this utter void.
"Remember everything that you're about to see because unfortunately, while I cannot re-work time for you and give you the things of which you have dreamed, I can give you this experience which I hope that; at your age, you can retain it. Do you understand, Harry?" The familiar voice was just that familiar, and while he acknowledge the intensity of the message and the need to pay quick and close attention to it he was still rather left with only the echo of the suggest text which audibly played upon his ears before succumbing to the total nothingness of it all.
Harry sat there, again, waiting for the show to get started and was disappointed to find that there was no real time here. Whatever it was that was supposed to happen had its own schedule that was accepted to be adhered. He sat and waiting light a faithful parishioner.
He was waiting, unfortunately, for the wrong thing. Expecting his senses to kick in and to see a blazing light, to hear a rush of sound only left him feeling bleakly disappointed. Instead, however, his entire body was surrounded by the most exquisite warmth that couldn't be relieved, if one wanted to get away from something such as it was.
He didn't know how long that he stayed within this warmth but slowly the warmth gave away to new feeling of an urgent pressure that surrounded him and pushed him. He was feeling contractions around him and while it wasn't suffocating it was certainly disorientating.
These contractions brought a new sense of awareness to him. They marked the passage of time, because they were not consistent, however they did become more and more frequent. After what appeared to have been ions, the blackness that completely confined him gave way to shades of gray which pulsed with the contractions.
The contractions now came with more and more repetition and Harry only vaguely thought that this somehow felt very familiar. It was almost like apparition but in the slowest of senses. It was after the sensation came back to back and then when it was one constant consistent pressure that Harry came to the realization of what exactly was happening and by then it was too late.
He felt hands on his head and was being pulled out.
What the bloody hell is going on here? He asked the formless voice of his other self.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, it's a health baby boy." Harry heard the medi-witch exclaim and instantly, upon feeling a brisk swat against his bum, in his own horror began wailing.
Harry, sit back and try to do you best to relax. I give you this one thing, now. I give you something that you always wanted and will remember with picture perfect clarity for the rest of your days. Harry heard the very familiar voice say to him and then in a rush, that even though the entire experience became something that he had wished for, something that he relished, it flashed before both his eyes and senses as if in fast-forward. The first fifteen months of his life passed by, and he experienced the love that his entire had lacked and before he knew it, it was over.
He found himself sitting inside of his crib in Godric's Hollow and there before him wasn't the reptilian man that he now knew as Lord Voldemort, but more like a much older version of Tom Marvolo Riddle that he remembered from the Chamber of Secrets during his second year.
He watched in horror as his mother had made her final protest, but before it had only been the sound of her protest, "Please not him, take me!" His mother screamed and when she saw the wand pointing at her she quickly turned and look him straight in the eye. That look conveyed to him all the love that he knew that his mum possessed for him and when the light left her eyes it was an all encompassing feeling that even though she was no longer present in the carbon and water based form in front of him, she was quite literally surround him in that same love that was swimming in her eyes.
The next moment he heard the curse leave the dark lord's lips, felt the impact of the spell hit his head, but his resolve in life and not knowing what was happening didn't displace his life-force and the spell's nature in seeking out the closest life force available. The swarm of green energy bounced back violently ripping through the dark lord and Harry being the only witness watched in utter fascination as Tom Riddle fought with his whole being unsuccessfully to fruitlessly shrug off the Avada Kedavra.
Harry didn't have to wait long, however, and within a few minutes he saw the face of Peter Pettigrew enter the nursery, looking down in horror at the ramifications of his actions at the dead form of Lily Evans-Potter. He quickly crossed the room, gathered both to robes and the wand of his fallen master and left the room just as quickly.
An hour passed while the baby, alone and confused sat there looking at his dead mummy before he was scooped in the massive arms of one Rubeus Hagrid, and then taken outside. Harry watched in horror as the tears of Sirius Black fell from his eyes completely unashamed before succumbing to the pent up rage that was bubbling from within him. He quickly gave over his motorcycle to Hagrid before disappearing into the night with vengeance in his eyes.
Harry, I'm sorry we had to watch this again but I want you to remember everything that you can. I know we're not as dimwitted as some people profess with a penchant for sarcasm and swirling and billowing robes. Remember everything. And with that the efforts and speed of the vision increased to the magnitude of ten to one of the previous speed until it reached his first year of Hogwarts.
Each year from this point on too only a few minutes for them to flash through his vision and soon he was looking at his upcoming fifth year. What he saw shocked him in regards to the pointlessness of it all. One worthless teach after another, with the exception of Professor Lupin, but Umbridge completely enraged Harry in the method and means by which she took his torture as something that, while necessary to her cause came with such a detached loathing that her indifference immediately spoke volumes by which he was starting to formulate a plan for this year's future.
Umbridge was something that made his blood boil from within him. Something that he couldn't quite place and by the end of the fifth year and the shock and horror he found in not only the death of his godfather but by the callousness of Professor Dumbledore and his choice of poor timing in revealing to Harry a prophecy made about the end of the dark lord by one whom was born at the end of July and marked as an equal. While he was bound physically in the body moving at light speeds now he couldn't help but mentally reach up and stroke his all too familiar lightning bolt shaped scar.
He forwarded through his sixth year with just as equal horror because he had fallen to the way side of his best friend, Hermione Granger once he excelled in potions and in retrospect he realized that perhaps she felt rather useless when he did better in a class than she did. He had always held back in the past, allowing her to push both himself and Ron in their studies but with a combination of jealousy on her part and jealousy and pride on his own it was an overall horrible year which ultimately ended with Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of the age being killed by his very own defense against the dark arts professor and potion's master, Severus Snape.
The other things that just plain didn't sit right were the building relationship between himself and one Ginevra Molly Weasley. While the girl had grown into a beautiful young woman he honestly didn't find the interaction with her during the previous five years to be all that too fulfilling and lacked in regularity. Outside of the flashes of periods where they found themselves snogging that year there really hadn't been too much interaction and a complete lack of conversation between the two. Outside of physical attraction Harry had to admit that he really didn't know much about the tiniest Weasley.
Time stopped for a moment here and froze just at the end of the headmaster's funeral where Harry and Ginny were alone discussing the break-up.
Pay attention here, Harry. Things are not always as they seem and while you may feel some very real feelings here, well sometimes it's best to understand not only what is said but what is not.
That was when she opened her mouth and declared that she knew that Harry wouldn't be happy unless he was chasing after Voldemort. Harry felt bile actually surge up and make home in the back of his throat. He realized that while, again, she was honest here in her assessment, she honestly didn't know him whatsoever and her mind was still clouded in him being The-Boy-Who-Lived and not Harry at all.
There was a fast forward now, where Harry found himself at number four Privet Drive. His reception of a missive from the deceased professor which happened to be a rather large tome of knowledge about Horcrux creation and destruction. It also included something that absolutely shocked him. A Marauder's styled map of England with confirmed locations of bit and pieces of Tom Marvolo Riddle stored all over England.
He shot off into light speed again and found himself in the company of his best friend, Hermione Jane Granger. The left his aunt's home for the last time and the shot all over the country with the aid of Bill Weasley on loan from Gringotts Wizard's Bank for his expertise in curse breaking. One site after the next the were able to collect the items: Hufflepuff's Cup, Salazar's Locket, Gryffindor's scabbard, Rowena's scrying crystal and surprisingly enough Tom Riddle's Award for outstanding service to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Watched as one by one Bill was able to break the underlying curse traps that were contained in each object, however instead of destroying the remaining Horcruxes, the goblins provided a crystal container which Bill transferred the soul pieces into. Once complete, Harry placed the container in his family vault and then rushed to the Burrow with elation only to have it crushed when he found Ron and Ginny in a very compromising position.
Horrors followed as the soul piece that was originally contained in the diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle and thought destroyed by its puncture with a Basilisk fang were mere ploys as that soul piece had taken silent refuge within his first victim, Ginny Weasley and had manifest within his ex-girlfriend. She disappeared that night leaving Ronald Weasley a broken many that had succumbed to his wanton lust for his best friend by using Polyjuice with his own sister and engaging in carnal and forbidden pleasures.
Fast forward again as bits and pieces flashed before his eyes seeing that Hermione broke completely down and took solace with Harry in the needing comfort that he had provided to her and taken from her. Realization dawned and was illuminated upon at St Mungo's when he found out that he had been severely poisoned with a potion similar to Amortentia which hadn't been named but obviously used against him by Voldemort and through Ginny Weasley.
He watched as his fell in love with Hermione Granger, and he knew that had the poisoning not occurred this could have potentially happened earlier. He watched as the brief moments of happiness were shattered by another betrayal as Ronald Bilius Weasley attacked and viciously killed a pregnant Hermione before Harry's eyes. He watched as Harry quickly and with much malice dispatched his former friend to find that familiar dark mark branded upon his left forearm.
Insanity followed with massive amounts of grief and a need for revenge. Harry watched himself study harder and more furiously than ever before. He was aided by Tonks and Remus as they devoured the Black Library which they found to be the most comprehensive library available on the dark arts.
A flood of images flashed through them and while Harry was studying even more thoroughly than he had in the past he still shook violently each night screaming for Hermione. Each night Nymphadora had come into his room, crawled into the bed in from of him, wrapping her arms around him while Remus climbed in from behind him providing assurances that while the costs had been high he still had friends that were loyal to him.
He watched as the moment for revenge came as the captured Ginny Weasley, and Harry viciously, brutally and most calculatedly murdered her with the intent and successfully built his own Horcrux out of the journal, which he stored in his family vault yet again.
Harry finally watched the final battle between himself and Voldemort. Hundreds of dead bodies littered the huge expanse which had at one time been Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but now lay in ruin and Lord Voldemort stood over the toppled form of Harry.
"Good bye Harry Potter! Avada Kedavra!" He screamed and watched in utter and sick fascination as the light struck its target true.
Harry just batted his eyes at Lord Voldemort, while reaching into his pocket to relieve it of its prize, the crystal container. He opened freeing the soul pieces which savagely attacked their embodied counterpart. It had been now nearly five years and although Harry had done many dark things, he reveled in the sound of the approaching phoenix that dropped the familiar sorting hat in his lap.
Reaching into the hat, once again, he pulled the Sword of Gryffindor free and plunged it quickly through the chest of Tom Marvolo Riddle. To make sure that it was completely over, he removed Tom's head before collapsing into the litany of bodies and parts of bodies surrounding him.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment when he turned to see Tonks, blinking at him, coughing up bloody, and tears streaking down her cheeks. She wasn't looking at him, but just over his shoulder, and as he turned he felt his heart literally break as his saw the silver hand of Wormtail punched cleanly through the chest of the last Marauder. He fell back next to Tonks.
"Harry, you have to find a way to fix this, p-p-please." She managed and that was the last thing that she said before he sightless eyes fixed on him and dulled.
Years upon years went by in a flurry. Harry was all over the world finding tomes of knowledge here and there and finally was able to make a portal to simply view the past. He found other worlds and what he thought to be parallel universes but found them to be something else entirely. Their existence was a direct result of the illegal use of a time-turner or other such devise.
Millenniums had past with his studies and solitude. When he emerged finally there was no longer anything that resembled the world that he had left. There were no such things as Muggles any longer as history had provide live evolves and those whom were known to be secretive and lock themselves up because they were magical had simply been the next evolutionary step in the human life's journey.
He finally found an obscure ritual created by Rowena Ravenclaw which had been preserved in the site formally known as the Department of Mysteries, and upon it's recitation in front of the same fluttering veil of voices saw the fifteen year old visage of his former self just arrived at Privet Drive.
Fresh tears and hope that welled up in his heart as he quickly threw the journal through the veal and with elation watched as it landed on his desk.
Harry watched as the previous days events unfolded in front of him knowing that his elder self, which he hoped to avoid altogether watched him until it came up to present.
"Bloody Fucking Hell!" Harry exclaimed as the knowledge assimilated itself within him. Then, without malice, a slow creeping of the corners of his mouth turned upward of their own accord into something that wasn't ever on his face while he was resident within the smallest bedroom at number four Privet Drive.
A/N: Read and review. I'd like thoughts on what you think of the story so far and where you would hope that I would take it.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Children of all ages once again it is a proud honor and delight for me on this joyous occasion to welcome one and all to Harry Potter's Wild Ride!" The voice that sounded vaguely and sickeningly familiar reverberated against the unknown and dark nothingness that encompassed Harry.
He didn't know where he was. He didn't really understand how he had gotten from the smallest bedroom at the prim and proper home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He just remembered the blood which covered his hand and the choice to make a sacrifice of it in the vain hopes that the messages that he had seen flitter without the aid of a proper quill grace the pages of his second diary.
Now he was here, and the voice that had echoed across the nothingness could have been screamed at the top of unknown lungs or could have been the faintest of whispers. What he did know is that there was no trust here. Whatever it was that had pushed him into making the usual rash decisions was the same blinding trust that he used whenever he went on any of his rather break-neck, scary and memorable adventures.
Did I mention that he was completely encased in darkness? Well, he was also without weight or gravity and floating in the midst of this huge expanse of nothingness. The kind of nothingness that surrounded oneself and left a pressure in one's ear that just sort of sat there doing nothing and left the one whom suffered there feeling nothing begging for any sort of thing to happen to break the monotony of it all.
Harry sat there patiently waiting for that sort of anything to happen and for quite a while he found himself bored beyond belief. It something was supposed to happen well, he was getting rather put out that it hadn't happened yet and was going to take it up with that something's management if it couldn't be bothered to do it's job right and proper.
There was at this point a certain lack of lucidity which enshrouded Harry and left him blissfully numb of every, which happened to also include himself; who he was to the point that he didn't even know what he was or what his station was or was to be, in life. He sat there waiting and that same screaming whisper came to him in this utter void.
"Remember everything that you're about to see because unfortunately, while I cannot re-work time for you and give you the things of which you have dreamed, I can give you this experience which I hope that; at your age, you can retain it. Do you understand, Harry?" The familiar voice was just that familiar, and while he acknowledge the intensity of the message and the need to pay quick and close attention to it he was still rather left with only the echo of the suggest text which audibly played upon his ears before succumbing to the total nothingness of it all.
Harry sat there, again, waiting for the show to get started and was disappointed to find that there was no real time here. Whatever it was that was supposed to happen had its own schedule that was accepted to be adhered. He sat and waiting light a faithful parishioner.
He was waiting, unfortunately, for the wrong thing. Expecting his senses to kick in and to see a blazing light, to hear a rush of sound only left him feeling bleakly disappointed. Instead, however, his entire body was surrounded by the most exquisite warmth that couldn't be relieved, if one wanted to get away from something such as it was.
He didn't know how long that he stayed within this warmth but slowly the warmth gave away to new feeling of an urgent pressure that surrounded him and pushed him. He was feeling contractions around him and while it wasn't suffocating it was certainly disorientating.
These contractions brought a new sense of awareness to him. They marked the passage of time, because they were not consistent, however they did become more and more frequent. After what appeared to have been ions, the blackness that completely confined him gave way to shades of gray which pulsed with the contractions.
The contractions now came with more and more repetition and Harry only vaguely thought that this somehow felt very familiar. It was almost like apparition but in the slowest of senses. It was after the sensation came back to back and then when it was one constant consistent pressure that Harry came to the realization of what exactly was happening and by then it was too late.
He felt hands on his head and was being pulled out.
What the bloody hell is going on here? He asked the formless voice of his other self.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, it's a health baby boy." Harry heard the medi-witch exclaim and instantly, upon feeling a brisk swat against his bum, in his own horror began wailing.
Harry, sit back and try to do you best to relax. I give you this one thing, now. I give you something that you always wanted and will remember with picture perfect clarity for the rest of your days. Harry heard the very familiar voice say to him and then in a rush, that even though the entire experience became something that he had wished for, something that he relished, it flashed before both his eyes and senses as if in fast-forward. The first fifteen months of his life passed by, and he experienced the love that his entire had lacked and before he knew it, it was over.
He found himself sitting inside of his crib in Godric's Hollow and there before him wasn't the reptilian man that he now knew as Lord Voldemort, but more like a much older version of Tom Marvolo Riddle that he remembered from the Chamber of Secrets during his second year.
He watched in horror as his mother had made her final protest, but before it had only been the sound of her protest, "Please not him, take me!" His mother screamed and when she saw the wand pointing at her she quickly turned and look him straight in the eye. That look conveyed to him all the love that he knew that his mum possessed for him and when the light left her eyes it was an all encompassing feeling that even though she was no longer present in the carbon and water based form in front of him, she was quite literally surround him in that same love that was swimming in her eyes.
The next moment he heard the curse leave the dark lord's lips, felt the impact of the spell hit his head, but his resolve in life and not knowing what was happening didn't displace his life-force and the spell's nature in seeking out the closest life force available. The swarm of green energy bounced back violently ripping through the dark lord and Harry being the only witness watched in utter fascination as Tom Riddle fought with his whole being unsuccessfully to fruitlessly shrug off the Avada Kedavra.
Harry didn't have to wait long, however, and within a few minutes he saw the face of Peter Pettigrew enter the nursery, looking down in horror at the ramifications of his actions at the dead form of Lily Evans-Potter. He quickly crossed the room, gathered both to robes and the wand of his fallen master and left the room just as quickly.
An hour passed while the baby, alone and confused sat there looking at his dead mummy before he was scooped in the massive arms of one Rubeus Hagrid, and then taken outside. Harry watched in horror as the tears of Sirius Black fell from his eyes completely unashamed before succumbing to the pent up rage that was bubbling from within him. He quickly gave over his motorcycle to Hagrid before disappearing into the night with vengeance in his eyes.
Harry, I'm sorry we had to watch this again but I want you to remember everything that you can. I know we're not as dimwitted as some people profess with a penchant for sarcasm and swirling and billowing robes. Remember everything. And with that the efforts and speed of the vision increased to the magnitude of ten to one of the previous speed until it reached his first year of Hogwarts.
Each year from this point on too only a few minutes for them to flash through his vision and soon he was looking at his upcoming fifth year. What he saw shocked him in regards to the pointlessness of it all. One worthless teach after another, with the exception of Professor Lupin, but Umbridge completely enraged Harry in the method and means by which she took his torture as something that, while necessary to her cause came with such a detached loathing that her indifference immediately spoke volumes by which he was starting to formulate a plan for this year's future.
Umbridge was something that made his blood boil from within him. Something that he couldn't quite place and by the end of the fifth year and the shock and horror he found in not only the death of his godfather but by the callousness of Professor Dumbledore and his choice of poor timing in revealing to Harry a prophecy made about the end of the dark lord by one whom was born at the end of July and marked as an equal. While he was bound physically in the body moving at light speeds now he couldn't help but mentally reach up and stroke his all too familiar lightning bolt shaped scar.
He forwarded through his sixth year with just as equal horror because he had fallen to the way side of his best friend, Hermione Granger once he excelled in potions and in retrospect he realized that perhaps she felt rather useless when he did better in a class than she did. He had always held back in the past, allowing her to push both himself and Ron in their studies but with a combination of jealousy on her part and jealousy and pride on his own it was an overall horrible year which ultimately ended with Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of the age being killed by his very own defense against the dark arts professor and potion's master, Severus Snape.
The other things that just plain didn't sit right were the building relationship between himself and one Ginevra Molly Weasley. While the girl had grown into a beautiful young woman he honestly didn't find the interaction with her during the previous five years to be all that too fulfilling and lacked in regularity. Outside of the flashes of periods where they found themselves snogging that year there really hadn't been too much interaction and a complete lack of conversation between the two. Outside of physical attraction Harry had to admit that he really didn't know much about the tiniest Weasley.
Time stopped for a moment here and froze just at the end of the headmaster's funeral where Harry and Ginny were alone discussing the break-up.
Pay attention here, Harry. Things are not always as they seem and while you may feel some very real feelings here, well sometimes it's best to understand not only what is said but what is not.
That was when she opened her mouth and declared that she knew that Harry wouldn't be happy unless he was chasing after Voldemort. Harry felt bile actually surge up and make home in the back of his throat. He realized that while, again, she was honest here in her assessment, she honestly didn't know him whatsoever and her mind was still clouded in him being The-Boy-Who-Lived and not Harry at all.
There was a fast forward now, where Harry found himself at number four Privet Drive. His reception of a missive from the deceased professor which happened to be a rather large tome of knowledge about Horcrux creation and destruction. It also included something that absolutely shocked him. A Marauder's styled map of England with confirmed locations of bit and pieces of Tom Marvolo Riddle stored all over England.
He shot off into light speed again and found himself in the company of his best friend, Hermione Jane Granger. The left his aunt's home for the last time and the shot all over the country with the aid of Bill Weasley on loan from Gringotts Wizard's Bank for his expertise in curse breaking. One site after the next the were able to collect the items: Hufflepuff's Cup, Salazar's Locket, Gryffindor's scabbard, Rowena's scrying crystal and surprisingly enough Tom Riddle's Award for outstanding service to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Watched as one by one Bill was able to break the underlying curse traps that were contained in each object, however instead of destroying the remaining Horcruxes, the goblins provided a crystal container which Bill transferred the soul pieces into. Once complete, Harry placed the container in his family vault and then rushed to the Burrow with elation only to have it crushed when he found Ron and Ginny in a very compromising position.
Horrors followed as the soul piece that was originally contained in the diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle and thought destroyed by its puncture with a Basilisk fang were mere ploys as that soul piece had taken silent refuge within his first victim, Ginny Weasley and had manifest within his ex-girlfriend. She disappeared that night leaving Ronald Weasley a broken many that had succumbed to his wanton lust for his best friend by using Polyjuice with his own sister and engaging in carnal and forbidden pleasures.
Fast forward again as bits and pieces flashed before his eyes seeing that Hermione broke completely down and took solace with Harry in the needing comfort that he had provided to her and taken from her. Realization dawned and was illuminated upon at St Mungo's when he found out that he had been severely poisoned with a potion similar to Amortentia which hadn't been named but obviously used against him by Voldemort and through Ginny Weasley.
He watched as his fell in love with Hermione Granger, and he knew that had the poisoning not occurred this could have potentially happened earlier. He watched as the brief moments of happiness were shattered by another betrayal as Ronald Bilius Weasley attacked and viciously killed a pregnant Hermione before Harry's eyes. He watched as Harry quickly and with much malice dispatched his former friend to find that familiar dark mark branded upon his left forearm.
Insanity followed with massive amounts of grief and a need for revenge. Harry watched himself study harder and more furiously than ever before. He was aided by Tonks and Remus as they devoured the Black Library which they found to be the most comprehensive library available on the dark arts.
A flood of images flashed through them and while Harry was studying even more thoroughly than he had in the past he still shook violently each night screaming for Hermione. Each night Nymphadora had come into his room, crawled into the bed in from of him, wrapping her arms around him while Remus climbed in from behind him providing assurances that while the costs had been high he still had friends that were loyal to him.
He watched as the moment for revenge came as the captured Ginny Weasley, and Harry viciously, brutally and most calculatedly murdered her with the intent and successfully built his own Horcrux out of the journal, which he stored in his family vault yet again.
Harry finally watched the final battle between himself and Voldemort. Hundreds of dead bodies littered the huge expanse which had at one time been Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry but now lay in ruin and Lord Voldemort stood over the toppled form of Harry.
"Good bye Harry Potter! Avada Kedavra!" He screamed and watched in utter and sick fascination as the light struck its target true.
Harry just batted his eyes at Lord Voldemort, while reaching into his pocket to relieve it of its prize, the crystal container. He opened freeing the soul pieces which savagely attacked their embodied counterpart. It had been now nearly five years and although Harry had done many dark things, he reveled in the sound of the approaching phoenix that dropped the familiar sorting hat in his lap.
Reaching into the hat, once again, he pulled the Sword of Gryffindor free and plunged it quickly through the chest of Tom Marvolo Riddle. To make sure that it was completely over, he removed Tom's head before collapsing into the litany of bodies and parts of bodies surrounding him.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment when he turned to see Tonks, blinking at him, coughing up bloody, and tears streaking down her cheeks. She wasn't looking at him, but just over his shoulder, and as he turned he felt his heart literally break as his saw the silver hand of Wormtail punched cleanly through the chest of the last Marauder. He fell back next to Tonks.
"Harry, you have to find a way to fix this, p-p-please." She managed and that was the last thing that she said before he sightless eyes fixed on him and dulled.
Years upon years went by in a flurry. Harry was all over the world finding tomes of knowledge here and there and finally was able to make a portal to simply view the past. He found other worlds and what he thought to be parallel universes but found them to be something else entirely. Their existence was a direct result of the illegal use of a time-turner or other such devise.
Millenniums had past with his studies and solitude. When he emerged finally there was no longer anything that resembled the world that he had left. There were no such things as Muggles any longer as history had provide live evolves and those whom were known to be secretive and lock themselves up because they were magical had simply been the next evolutionary step in the human life's journey.
He finally found an obscure ritual created by Rowena Ravenclaw which had been preserved in the site formally known as the Department of Mysteries, and upon it's recitation in front of the same fluttering veil of voices saw the fifteen year old visage of his former self just arrived at Privet Drive.
Fresh tears and hope that welled up in his heart as he quickly threw the journal through the veal and with elation watched as it landed on his desk.
Harry watched as the previous days events unfolded in front of him knowing that his elder self, which he hoped to avoid altogether watched him until it came up to present.
"Bloody Fucking Hell!" Harry exclaimed as the knowledge assimilated itself within him. Then, without malice, a slow creeping of the corners of his mouth turned upward of their own accord into something that wasn't ever on his face while he was resident within the smallest bedroom at number four Privet Drive.
A/N: Read and review. I'd like thoughts on what you think of the story so far and where you would hope that I would take it.
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