Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters belong to JK Rowling. This is fanfiction. For fun, for entertainment. No money being made.
Author's note: I borrowed the word "Wvelte" from Yen, who was kind enough to let me use it for the title of this story. Wvelte is a separate story arc from the series of stories I have written, which began with "Use It Wisely."
Wvelte
Written by Lynn
Chapter One: What would come, would come...
As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... and he would have to meet it when it did.
But Harry hadn't expected it would come so soon. On the ride back to Privet Drive, there was a small bang in the front of the car. Smoke began billowing from the edges of the engine hood.
With a muttered curse, Uncle Vernon quickly pulled over to the side of the road. Other drivers slowed their automobiles to see what was happening.
Harry, seated in the back, kept quiet as his uncle shut the engine. The back of his head and neck had turned red, and Harry fully expected Uncle Vernon to turn around and blame him for whatever had happened to the car.
He was right.
"What did you do now, boy?!" Uncle Vernon shouted, grabbing Harry by his ear.
"I didn't do anything!" gasped Harry, hot tears fogging his glasses. His uncle was pinching and pulling his ear so hard he feared it might be ripped off.
There was a tap at the driver's side window. Uncle Vernon quickly released Harry, who immediately moved as far away as possible from his uncle without actually getting out of the car. There was a middle-aged man peering inside at them.
"Are you two all right?" came his muffled voice.
"We're fine," said Uncle Vernon loudly. He was sweating hard and eyeing the stranger suspiciously.
The latter pointed to the front of car. "Pop your hood," he said, and there was a few seconds of heavy muttering as Uncle Vernon fumbled for the small lever on the side of his chair that would open the hood.
More smoke rushed out when the hood was open, and the man backed away from their car, coughing and covering his mouth. He waited until most of smoke had dispersed before venturing closer to examine the engine as Uncle Vernon opened his door and got out himself.
And it happened. The stranger drew out a revolver from his coat and shut Harry's uncle point blank in the chest.
***
Harry didn't know how long he had been out. When he saw his uncle being shot, he had immediately reached for his wand only to realize it was in trunk when the assailant pointed the gun at him and told him to get out of the car. As Harry emerged from the vehicle, the man struck him on the temple with the butt of the gun. Harry remembered seeing Uncle Vernon lying in a pool of blood as he fell down and lost consciousness.
He came to in the dark trunk of a moving vehicle. His mouth was covered by what felt like ducking tape. His wrists were bound together by the same adhesive as were his feet at the ankles. He was lying on his side when he woke up, but after a few maneuvers, he managed to turn around and lie on his back instead with his taped hands on his stomach.
Harry was frightened and angry. Frightened by the fact that he had been kidnapped and angered by what the kidnapper had done to his uncle. There was no love lost between him and Uncle Vernon, and though he had often wished awful things would happen to his uncle, Harry didn't want him dead.
Is he dead? wondered Harry as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't feel his glasses on his face, and the side of his head ached with a throbbing pain where the kidnapper had hit him.
Who was he? Why did he kidnap me? The man appeared to be a Muggle. He couldn't be a wizard. Wizards didn't use guns-
The thought broke off as a sharp bolt of pain lanced through his skull. Harry raised his hand to soothe the bruise and was startled when he felt his fingers touch the wound.
He didn't know exactly how he caused the tape binding his wrists together to disappear, but there was no reason why he couldn't do it again though Harry didn't test if he could repeat it, deciding instead to remove the tape from his mouth and ankles manually.
The trunk lock was a trickier matter. No matter how long Harry concentrated or how many times he whispered Alohomora at it to open, it remained shut. He needed his wand to open it. Or a crowbar, and there was one in the trunk with him.
***
Harry waited for the car to stop before attempting to escape though when many minutes went by without the car stopping or even slowing, Harry decided they must be on a highway. Listening carefully, he also determined that they must be on a lonely stretch of road for he rarely heard the sound of other automobiles.
His hands tightening on the crowbar, Harry debated on his line of action and decided he couldn't wait for the car to stop. For all he knew, they might be close to wherever the kidnapper was heading with Harry, and once they reached that destination, it might be too difficult to escape. It might be easier, but Harry couldn't take that chance.
Taking a deep breath and bracing a knee against the floor, Harry jammed the hooked end of the crowbar into the center of the thin crack where the hood edge met the lower side of the trunk. He swallowed hard and then pushed down with all his strength.
He heard the loud scrape of metal resisting metal then a jangling sound as the lock gave way. Bright sunlight glared into the trunk, blinding Harry as hood sprang up. The car suddenly skidded to the left, and he knew that the driver saw the raised hood.
Harry grabbed the sides of the trunk, glancing at the blurred asphalt rushing by below before looking to the sides of the road. To his horror, he saw rolling green fields with only an occasional tree or trimmed hedge passing by. They were in the countryside where houses and people were far apart and help harder to find.
The car suddenly slowed, screeching to a halt. Propelled by inertia, Harry fell forward and out of the trunk. He struck the road, hands first, the rest of his body following quickly. Despite the pain, he managed to turn, allowing his body to roll sideways instead of tumbling head over heels.
He finally stopped in the middle of the road, the flesh of his arms and hands scraped and burnt badly by friction. His chest, lower torso and legs fared a little better as they were covered by his clothes; however, shreds of the materials had become embedded in his wounds.
The right side of his face had been torn open. Harry could feel blood running down it as he pushed himself to his knees. He heard the kidnapper's car backing up towards him and desperation urged him to his feet faster despite the fear and hopelessness weighing down on his mind.
He barely taken a step when the kidnapper got out of the car and ran towards him. Harry fell back to his knees when a rough hand grabbed his shoulder and gave him a hard shake.
"Stand up and get back inside," ordered the man in a tight nasty tone. When Harry refused to comply, he struck him across the cheek, which hadn't been cut open before dragging Harry back to the car and dumping him in the trunk again.
***
Maybe it was because of the magic running in his blood that Harry didn't bleed to death from his wounds though the Muggle who had taken him certainly thought he wouldn't survive the trip. However, whether the boy was alive or dead didn't matter. He was going to be paid in full when he delivered the body.
***
"I didn't think he would still be alive," was the first thing Harry heard when he woke up. Painfully bright light shined into his eyes, which he quickly shut close. He cried out when he was jostled roughly, but whoever it was paid no heed to him. Harry was summarily pulled out of the trunk and dropped to the ground.
He cringed into a fetal position when he was kicked in the stomach.
"I brought him to you," said someone. In the haze of pain he was in, Harry could barely identify the kidnapper's voice as it demanded, "I want my pay."
But he didn't get what he wanted for the next thing he said was, "No, wait! We had an agreement-"
"Avada Kedavra!"
There was a flash of pale green light against Harry's eyelids followed by a heavy thumping sound. He knew the kidnapper was dead, and Harry knew he was next.
His heart, which had seemed like a lump of cold stone, skipped a beat when a familiar voice said, "That wasn't necessary, Lucius."
"Severus, keep quiet. Take the boy and go."
"Are you sure you can handle him?"
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Malfoy impatiently. "As per the plan, I will inform him that you lost nerve when you witnessed the callous way I disposed of the Muggle, and that fearing a similar fate awaited you this day, you stunned me and Disapparated away with Harry Potter. Now, go!"
There was silence then Snape said softly, "You can come with us, Narcissa as well. Dumbledore can protect both of you."
Harry opened his eyes to see the hopeful hesitation in Lucius Malfoy's face. In front of the silver-haired wizard stood his Potions professor, Severus Snape. Both were dressed in black robes with their hoods drawn back and holding masks and wands in their hands. Slowly, Harry moved his head and looked around. They were in a dilapidated barn, and it was dark outside.
Suddenly, another wizard ran inside and approached them. "You have to hurry," he panted. "He's coming!"
Lucius Malfoy started, panic widening his eyes before determination set his face. He lifted his mask and covered his face. "Severus," he said, "you have to stun both of us. Avery-"
"Understood, Lucius."
Malfoy's masked face turned to Snape. "Make sure Dumbledore keeps him safe. This is the only time we will save Harry Potter's life. There will be no next time. The same goes for you, Severus."
Snape nodded once and lifted his wand. In quick order, he stunned the two Death Eaters. As their bodies slumped to the ground, Snape bent and picked up Harry. They Disapparated away just as more Death Eaters arrived.
***
Snape brought Harry back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore was waiting for them at the gate with Madam Pomfrey, who immediately took charge of Harry. He was immediately whisked to the hospital wing.
He fell in and out of consciousness throughout the treatment of his wounds. Jerking awake when the antiseptic stung, falling back to an uneasy slumber as the pain dulled. Madam Pomfrey muttered all the while.
"School's just ended, and you're still in trouble. Every year, you always wind up in here. That stone business in your first year. Gilderoy turning your arm into a rubber one in the second. Dementors and dragons..." Her mumblings gradually lost coherence the lower her voice became, but her tone was gentle. Moving with care, her hands and wand examined and healed Harry's battered body. Soon, half of his face was covered by a cool soothing goo, the same he had seen her treat Cedric with. The same stuff also sealed most of his remaining wounds.
Harry could feel himself healing. The flesh, which had been torn and burned, throbbed in time to his heartbeat, mending at each pulse. As his body repaired itself, his mind began to wander. Harry wondered if his Uncle Vernon was alive, thought about Snape and why Lucius Malfoy and Avery had let him go. Vaguely, he thought about the Muggle who had died by Avada Kedavra and wondered who he was.
***
"He was Mr. Dursley's younger brother, Harry. Someone you haven't met, and whom Vernon Dursley hadn't seen for more than twenty years." Dumbledore would somberly inform him the next morning. The Headmaster was sitting on a stool beside Harry's bed. Professors McGonagall and Snape were standing on either side of him.
Harry stared at Dumbledore, worried by the weariness he saw reflected in usually wise blue eyes. His long silver hair and beard seemed drab instead of shiny.
Slowly, Harry said, "You mean he was my uncle too?"
It was Snape who answered him in harsh biting tone. "Of course not, Potter, he was your aunt." McGonagall shot him a furious glare. Harry interrupted them before a squabble could begin. He wanted to hear answers to his questions, not bickering.
"Why did he kidnap me? What did Mr. Malfoy mean about that being the only time they would save my life? Who's they is he referring to? Is my Uncle Vernon alive?!" Harry was shouting by the time he asked the last question. And crying. Tears ran down his face before he noticed them. He only realized he was crying when a sob suddenly tore painfully from his throat.
"Harry." Arms enfolded him in a reassuring embrace, and Harry was a bit embarrassed to find that his House Head was hugging him. That emotion quickly vanished when Harry noticed that a disgusted sneer was twisting Snape's lips. The overwhelming hate he suddenly felt for the Potions Master drove back his tears, and he absolutely refused to let Snape see him break down again. Harry's voice was steady as he told McGonagall he was all right.
After McGonagall let go off him, Harry sat up as best as his injuries would allow. Dumbledore placed his hand on McGonagall's arm, stopping her before she could insist that Harry lie back down. Amusement crossed Snape's face at the angry look Harry gave him before he turned his eyes back at Dumbledore and repeated the questions. This time, not a tremor jarred his voice, and they were answered.
"Lucius Malfoy," began Dumbledore, "knew of the ancient magic protecting you, Harry. A spell as powerful as the Fidelus Charm shielded you so long as you remain with your family. It is at its strongest level when you are with your mother's sister and nephew since they are your nearest blood relatives. Vernon Dursley who married your aunt also provided you with protection to a lesser extent. And because they are protecting you, the Dursleys also have a similar magic guarding them."
"They do?"
"Muggles bound to protect one of our own are rewarded by an immunity against attacks which would normally kill an ordinary Muggle."
Hope flared inside Harry at these words, and Dumbledore smiled at him. "Yes, Harry, your uncle is alive and quite astounded the staff of a Muggle hospital as to how he survived a bullet wound to the heart.
"I'm glad," whispered Harry. He lay back down on the bed as he was unable to find the energy to sit up straight now that relief had replaced most of the tension inside him. Then, something occurred to him.
Harry frowned at Dumbledore. "But that other uncle of mine was killed when Mr. Malfoy caused Avada Kedavra at him."
A grim look came over Dumbledore's face. "He lost his immunity when he attacked his own brother in order kidnap you." Irritation heightened the anger in his eyes, and Harry shared his disgust of his uncle, whom he hadn't known at all. Harry was surprised when Dumbledore began berating himself.
"I am sorry, Harry. I should have realized that weakness in the magic protecting you. I had thought it was impenetrable. No wizard could touch you so long as you were in the care of your relations, and no wizard could do away with your relations as long as they were protecting you. The magic works both ways, and even your family gained what we refer to as a wizard's immunity. Other Muggles couldn't harm them as well.
"But I hadn't anticipated the possibility of one of your relations being used against the other." Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Brother against brother," he sighed, sounding grudging and admiring. "Lucius is as clever as he is poetic. He knew that once Vergil Dursley tried to take you from his own brother by force, the Elioneras Charm would cease to protect him, making him vulnerable to Avada Kedavra. But since he was still your uncle, Elioneras couldn't keep him from taking you away.
"The charm kept Harry safe for thirteen years, Headmaster," said McGonagall. "It was the best protection you could give him."
"No, it wasn't," said Dumbledore sharply. "He would have been safer here at Hogwarts, in my care."
"And you would have spoiled him silly," returned McGonagall dryly. "Harry wouldn't be who he is today had you not left him in the Dursleys' care, and look at how well he has turned out."
There was a derisive snort from Snape.
"What about Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked. Dumbledore glanced at Snape, who took a long time in answering. "Lucius agreed to spare Potter's life if the Headmaster took Draco as his apprentice," he said in a stiff tone.
What?! Harry gaped at them in shock.
***
"RELEASE ME!" Draco was incensed. His arms were bound to his sides by a thick cord of rope; his legs were similarly tied at the ankles. He was lying on his side on the floor of Dumbledore's office, and as they entered, he shot a murderous look at Snape.
"YOU TRAITOR!" Like a fish out of water, the pale-haired boy wriggled wildly, struggling to sit up. He jerked away from Snape tried to help him.
"KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!" Draco spat the words into the professor's face.
Harry felt a hand pushing against his back and glanced back at Dumbledore, who indicated that he should sit down. They passed by Snape who was hauling Draco to his feet. As Harry sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, Draco was dumped unceremoniously into the other.
"MY FATHER WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE FOR THIS!" he screamed, and Harry wished someone would gag the other boy. His head was aching badly from all the noise.
McGonagall, thankfully, shut Draco up with a silencing charm.
"Now that we are all here," began Dumbledore as he settled in his own chair. "Let us discuss how the two of you will be spending your summer."
There was a loud scrape as Draco's chair skidded back. He was attempting to lever himself up. He fell back when Snape pushed the chair back, causing another scraping noise as the chair's legs dashed against the floor.
"Draco, you will later go to Mr. Filch for floor polish," said Dumbledore.
McGonagall made a disapproving sound. "Now isn't the time for levity, Headmaster."
"But my floor, Professor-"
"Headmaster," said Snape warningly.
Dumbledore did most of the talking that followed. He explained that Harry could no longer stay with the Dursleys and that Draco was being held hostage in order that his father, Lucius Malfoy, would be hampered in his services to Voldemort.
Harry stared at Dumbledore, wondering why he was lying about the real reason why Draco was there. He glanced to the boy beside him. Draco had turned whiter than his usual pale complexion; his eyes were wide with fear. Harry realized Draco must be wondering what they intend to do with him.
"We will not harm you, Draco," Dumbledore reassured him, but those words didn't alleviate the anxiety in the boy's face. Harry watched as Draco glanced up at Snape standing behind his chair. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but no words came out. The silencing charm was still at work.
Dumbledore lifted his hand, and McGonagall undid the charm.
"Is that really why you kidnapped me?" blurted Draco. Snape remained quiet, his eyes meeting Draco's. They were unreadable.
"Professor Snape didn't have a choice, Draco." They looked back to Dumbledore, who had pulled open a drawer and was rummaging its contents. He pulled out a round tin can, saying, "The Dark Lord had made up his mind to kill him. Isn't that so, Professor?"
"Yes," answered Snape in a stony tone.
"There." Dumbledore pried open the cover of the tin. It was full of cookies. He offered the tin to them. Only Harry took a cookie, out of politeness.
"Surely you now understand a little bit of your House Head's dilemma, Draco," Dumbledore said. "When he met your father, he was informed that he would be executed the next time the Dark Lord gathered his followers to him. Professor Snape tried to persuade Mr. Malfoy to our side but to no avail."
Harry glanced at Draco and noted the proud feral gleam in the boy's gray eyes. They don't want him to know the truth. Why?
Snape continued, "As I couldn't recruit Lucius Malfoy, I had to make sure he would be useless to Voldemort. I knew he would be presenting you to the Dark Lord soon so I decided to take you away from him."
The look Draco gave Snape was hard and suspicious.
Dumbledore wiped away the cookie crumbs from his mouth and beard. "Since we all understand one another's position now, it is time to inform you that you will be spending your summer-"
"Now matter where you take me, my father and the Dark Lord will find me." Draco stated firmly.
"With the giants."
Draco was positively flummoxed as was Harry. His uneaten cookie slipped through his listless fingers. As it struck the floor, Draco shouted at Dumbledore, "YOU'RE INSANE!"
***
The Headmaster hadn't been joking, no matter how many times Draco insisted he was. Harry knew Hagrid would be visiting the giants, possibly with Madame Maxime, over the summer. He supposed he and Draco could go along with them.
But it turned out it wasn't as straightforward as that, and where exactly they were going was enough to make Harry agree with Draco that Dumbledore was crazy.
***
"I am not going in there," insisted Draco. He tried to back away from the wall mural, but was caught short by the length of rope holding him steadfast to Harry and Snape.
"We will be back in one month, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore informed her while hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders. Harry couldn't stop staring at him. He wasn't used to the sight of the old wizard dressed in a dark yellow short-sleeved tunic, green knee-length shorts with red straps holding it up. He also had a green coat and red Swiss chapeau with a yellow feather stuck in it.
McGonagall asked, "One month in here or one month in there."
"One month here," answered Dumbledore. Which was a year in there, Harry knew. McGonagall had explained the properties of Wvelte, which was what the mural was called.
Wvelte was an echo of the real world, he had been told, but without humans. A few known sentient races existed in it, such as the giants, centaurs, merpeople, but no wizards nor Muggles.
Harry shut out Draco's complaints and fought down the queasiness in his stomach. Wvelte covered more than dozen meters in height and in width. Its canvas showed a picturesque scene of a wide rolling meadow, its right bordered by trees while leading to the shores of a lake on its left. A mountain range loomed on the horizon. Wvelte was eerily still unlike the other paintings in Hogwarts.
"I leave the school in your capable hands, Professor." Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore gallantly tipped his hat to McGonagall before walking into the mural, pulling Harry and the others along into it.
The moment he entered Wvelte, Harry understood why they had to be tied along together. They had emerged unto the narrow ledge running along the side of a cliff. A strong gusty wind started buffeting Harry towards the precipice. He would have fallen had he not been securely tied to Dumbledore.
Draco immediately hugged the wall when he saw where they were. "I want to go back!" he yelled just as the last of their party emerged from a glowing white rip hanging in mid-air. It vanished as soon as Snape was through. The professor glanced at the long drop down, turned into a sickly shade of yellow and pressed his back against the cliff wall.
"We should get a move on, Headmaster," he croaked.
"Of course, Severus," said Dumbledore cheerfully into the wind. "Right you are."
It took them nearly an hour to reach the top of the cliff, where they found Professor Flitwick waiting for them.
***
"Wvelte will be completed within two months, Headmaster."
"Two months here or two months there."
"Two months there," said Flitwick.
Harry listened to their conversation attentively while at the same time keeping watch on the piece of meat he was roasting over the fire. It was a few hours after dusk. They had been hiking for about six hours. Opposite him, Draco was scowling at the fire, also holding a stick with a piece of meat over it. Snape was assembling a small portable collapsible cauldron.
"Good," murmured Dumbledore. He too was holding a stick over the fire. He was roasting a marshmallow.
"What do you mean by Wvelte will be completed?" Harry finally ventured to ask.
Flitwick glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded. "You see," Flitwick began, "we've been working with the centaurs in creating this world." He lifted his hand and gestured at their surroundings.
"Why for?" said Harry.
"As a bargaining tool," answered Snape with a grunt. He seemed to be having trouble uncollapsing the cauldron.
"Let me guess," drawled Draco. "You hope to get their support against the Dark Lord by offering this made up world to them, correct?"
"This made up world is real, Draco," said Flitwick, sounding a bit insulted.
"Right, whatever you say, Sir."
Conversation was scarce the rest of the evening, and it wasn't only because of Draco's lack of respect towards the teachers. They were all exhausted.
Yet, Harry didn't fell sleep immediately after climbing into his sleeping bag. He spend the next hour or so, listening to the fire crackling in the center of the camp and the faint sounds of his companions' breathing. Harry amused himself by musing if any of his professors snored, then felt more somber as he stared at the twinkling stars in the black sky above. He couldn't help but wonder if they were real.
To be continued.
Author's note: I borrowed the word "Wvelte" from Yen, who was kind enough to let me use it for the title of this story. Wvelte is a separate story arc from the series of stories I have written, which began with "Use It Wisely."
Wvelte
Written by Lynn
Chapter One: What would come, would come...
As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... and he would have to meet it when it did.
But Harry hadn't expected it would come so soon. On the ride back to Privet Drive, there was a small bang in the front of the car. Smoke began billowing from the edges of the engine hood.
With a muttered curse, Uncle Vernon quickly pulled over to the side of the road. Other drivers slowed their automobiles to see what was happening.
Harry, seated in the back, kept quiet as his uncle shut the engine. The back of his head and neck had turned red, and Harry fully expected Uncle Vernon to turn around and blame him for whatever had happened to the car.
He was right.
"What did you do now, boy?!" Uncle Vernon shouted, grabbing Harry by his ear.
"I didn't do anything!" gasped Harry, hot tears fogging his glasses. His uncle was pinching and pulling his ear so hard he feared it might be ripped off.
There was a tap at the driver's side window. Uncle Vernon quickly released Harry, who immediately moved as far away as possible from his uncle without actually getting out of the car. There was a middle-aged man peering inside at them.
"Are you two all right?" came his muffled voice.
"We're fine," said Uncle Vernon loudly. He was sweating hard and eyeing the stranger suspiciously.
The latter pointed to the front of car. "Pop your hood," he said, and there was a few seconds of heavy muttering as Uncle Vernon fumbled for the small lever on the side of his chair that would open the hood.
More smoke rushed out when the hood was open, and the man backed away from their car, coughing and covering his mouth. He waited until most of smoke had dispersed before venturing closer to examine the engine as Uncle Vernon opened his door and got out himself.
And it happened. The stranger drew out a revolver from his coat and shut Harry's uncle point blank in the chest.
***
Harry didn't know how long he had been out. When he saw his uncle being shot, he had immediately reached for his wand only to realize it was in trunk when the assailant pointed the gun at him and told him to get out of the car. As Harry emerged from the vehicle, the man struck him on the temple with the butt of the gun. Harry remembered seeing Uncle Vernon lying in a pool of blood as he fell down and lost consciousness.
He came to in the dark trunk of a moving vehicle. His mouth was covered by what felt like ducking tape. His wrists were bound together by the same adhesive as were his feet at the ankles. He was lying on his side when he woke up, but after a few maneuvers, he managed to turn around and lie on his back instead with his taped hands on his stomach.
Harry was frightened and angry. Frightened by the fact that he had been kidnapped and angered by what the kidnapper had done to his uncle. There was no love lost between him and Uncle Vernon, and though he had often wished awful things would happen to his uncle, Harry didn't want him dead.
Is he dead? wondered Harry as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't feel his glasses on his face, and the side of his head ached with a throbbing pain where the kidnapper had hit him.
Who was he? Why did he kidnap me? The man appeared to be a Muggle. He couldn't be a wizard. Wizards didn't use guns-
The thought broke off as a sharp bolt of pain lanced through his skull. Harry raised his hand to soothe the bruise and was startled when he felt his fingers touch the wound.
He didn't know exactly how he caused the tape binding his wrists together to disappear, but there was no reason why he couldn't do it again though Harry didn't test if he could repeat it, deciding instead to remove the tape from his mouth and ankles manually.
The trunk lock was a trickier matter. No matter how long Harry concentrated or how many times he whispered Alohomora at it to open, it remained shut. He needed his wand to open it. Or a crowbar, and there was one in the trunk with him.
***
Harry waited for the car to stop before attempting to escape though when many minutes went by without the car stopping or even slowing, Harry decided they must be on a highway. Listening carefully, he also determined that they must be on a lonely stretch of road for he rarely heard the sound of other automobiles.
His hands tightening on the crowbar, Harry debated on his line of action and decided he couldn't wait for the car to stop. For all he knew, they might be close to wherever the kidnapper was heading with Harry, and once they reached that destination, it might be too difficult to escape. It might be easier, but Harry couldn't take that chance.
Taking a deep breath and bracing a knee against the floor, Harry jammed the hooked end of the crowbar into the center of the thin crack where the hood edge met the lower side of the trunk. He swallowed hard and then pushed down with all his strength.
He heard the loud scrape of metal resisting metal then a jangling sound as the lock gave way. Bright sunlight glared into the trunk, blinding Harry as hood sprang up. The car suddenly skidded to the left, and he knew that the driver saw the raised hood.
Harry grabbed the sides of the trunk, glancing at the blurred asphalt rushing by below before looking to the sides of the road. To his horror, he saw rolling green fields with only an occasional tree or trimmed hedge passing by. They were in the countryside where houses and people were far apart and help harder to find.
The car suddenly slowed, screeching to a halt. Propelled by inertia, Harry fell forward and out of the trunk. He struck the road, hands first, the rest of his body following quickly. Despite the pain, he managed to turn, allowing his body to roll sideways instead of tumbling head over heels.
He finally stopped in the middle of the road, the flesh of his arms and hands scraped and burnt badly by friction. His chest, lower torso and legs fared a little better as they were covered by his clothes; however, shreds of the materials had become embedded in his wounds.
The right side of his face had been torn open. Harry could feel blood running down it as he pushed himself to his knees. He heard the kidnapper's car backing up towards him and desperation urged him to his feet faster despite the fear and hopelessness weighing down on his mind.
He barely taken a step when the kidnapper got out of the car and ran towards him. Harry fell back to his knees when a rough hand grabbed his shoulder and gave him a hard shake.
"Stand up and get back inside," ordered the man in a tight nasty tone. When Harry refused to comply, he struck him across the cheek, which hadn't been cut open before dragging Harry back to the car and dumping him in the trunk again.
***
Maybe it was because of the magic running in his blood that Harry didn't bleed to death from his wounds though the Muggle who had taken him certainly thought he wouldn't survive the trip. However, whether the boy was alive or dead didn't matter. He was going to be paid in full when he delivered the body.
***
"I didn't think he would still be alive," was the first thing Harry heard when he woke up. Painfully bright light shined into his eyes, which he quickly shut close. He cried out when he was jostled roughly, but whoever it was paid no heed to him. Harry was summarily pulled out of the trunk and dropped to the ground.
He cringed into a fetal position when he was kicked in the stomach.
"I brought him to you," said someone. In the haze of pain he was in, Harry could barely identify the kidnapper's voice as it demanded, "I want my pay."
But he didn't get what he wanted for the next thing he said was, "No, wait! We had an agreement-"
"Avada Kedavra!"
There was a flash of pale green light against Harry's eyelids followed by a heavy thumping sound. He knew the kidnapper was dead, and Harry knew he was next.
His heart, which had seemed like a lump of cold stone, skipped a beat when a familiar voice said, "That wasn't necessary, Lucius."
"Severus, keep quiet. Take the boy and go."
"Are you sure you can handle him?"
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Malfoy impatiently. "As per the plan, I will inform him that you lost nerve when you witnessed the callous way I disposed of the Muggle, and that fearing a similar fate awaited you this day, you stunned me and Disapparated away with Harry Potter. Now, go!"
There was silence then Snape said softly, "You can come with us, Narcissa as well. Dumbledore can protect both of you."
Harry opened his eyes to see the hopeful hesitation in Lucius Malfoy's face. In front of the silver-haired wizard stood his Potions professor, Severus Snape. Both were dressed in black robes with their hoods drawn back and holding masks and wands in their hands. Slowly, Harry moved his head and looked around. They were in a dilapidated barn, and it was dark outside.
Suddenly, another wizard ran inside and approached them. "You have to hurry," he panted. "He's coming!"
Lucius Malfoy started, panic widening his eyes before determination set his face. He lifted his mask and covered his face. "Severus," he said, "you have to stun both of us. Avery-"
"Understood, Lucius."
Malfoy's masked face turned to Snape. "Make sure Dumbledore keeps him safe. This is the only time we will save Harry Potter's life. There will be no next time. The same goes for you, Severus."
Snape nodded once and lifted his wand. In quick order, he stunned the two Death Eaters. As their bodies slumped to the ground, Snape bent and picked up Harry. They Disapparated away just as more Death Eaters arrived.
***
Snape brought Harry back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore was waiting for them at the gate with Madam Pomfrey, who immediately took charge of Harry. He was immediately whisked to the hospital wing.
He fell in and out of consciousness throughout the treatment of his wounds. Jerking awake when the antiseptic stung, falling back to an uneasy slumber as the pain dulled. Madam Pomfrey muttered all the while.
"School's just ended, and you're still in trouble. Every year, you always wind up in here. That stone business in your first year. Gilderoy turning your arm into a rubber one in the second. Dementors and dragons..." Her mumblings gradually lost coherence the lower her voice became, but her tone was gentle. Moving with care, her hands and wand examined and healed Harry's battered body. Soon, half of his face was covered by a cool soothing goo, the same he had seen her treat Cedric with. The same stuff also sealed most of his remaining wounds.
Harry could feel himself healing. The flesh, which had been torn and burned, throbbed in time to his heartbeat, mending at each pulse. As his body repaired itself, his mind began to wander. Harry wondered if his Uncle Vernon was alive, thought about Snape and why Lucius Malfoy and Avery had let him go. Vaguely, he thought about the Muggle who had died by Avada Kedavra and wondered who he was.
***
"He was Mr. Dursley's younger brother, Harry. Someone you haven't met, and whom Vernon Dursley hadn't seen for more than twenty years." Dumbledore would somberly inform him the next morning. The Headmaster was sitting on a stool beside Harry's bed. Professors McGonagall and Snape were standing on either side of him.
Harry stared at Dumbledore, worried by the weariness he saw reflected in usually wise blue eyes. His long silver hair and beard seemed drab instead of shiny.
Slowly, Harry said, "You mean he was my uncle too?"
It was Snape who answered him in harsh biting tone. "Of course not, Potter, he was your aunt." McGonagall shot him a furious glare. Harry interrupted them before a squabble could begin. He wanted to hear answers to his questions, not bickering.
"Why did he kidnap me? What did Mr. Malfoy mean about that being the only time they would save my life? Who's they is he referring to? Is my Uncle Vernon alive?!" Harry was shouting by the time he asked the last question. And crying. Tears ran down his face before he noticed them. He only realized he was crying when a sob suddenly tore painfully from his throat.
"Harry." Arms enfolded him in a reassuring embrace, and Harry was a bit embarrassed to find that his House Head was hugging him. That emotion quickly vanished when Harry noticed that a disgusted sneer was twisting Snape's lips. The overwhelming hate he suddenly felt for the Potions Master drove back his tears, and he absolutely refused to let Snape see him break down again. Harry's voice was steady as he told McGonagall he was all right.
After McGonagall let go off him, Harry sat up as best as his injuries would allow. Dumbledore placed his hand on McGonagall's arm, stopping her before she could insist that Harry lie back down. Amusement crossed Snape's face at the angry look Harry gave him before he turned his eyes back at Dumbledore and repeated the questions. This time, not a tremor jarred his voice, and they were answered.
"Lucius Malfoy," began Dumbledore, "knew of the ancient magic protecting you, Harry. A spell as powerful as the Fidelus Charm shielded you so long as you remain with your family. It is at its strongest level when you are with your mother's sister and nephew since they are your nearest blood relatives. Vernon Dursley who married your aunt also provided you with protection to a lesser extent. And because they are protecting you, the Dursleys also have a similar magic guarding them."
"They do?"
"Muggles bound to protect one of our own are rewarded by an immunity against attacks which would normally kill an ordinary Muggle."
Hope flared inside Harry at these words, and Dumbledore smiled at him. "Yes, Harry, your uncle is alive and quite astounded the staff of a Muggle hospital as to how he survived a bullet wound to the heart.
"I'm glad," whispered Harry. He lay back down on the bed as he was unable to find the energy to sit up straight now that relief had replaced most of the tension inside him. Then, something occurred to him.
Harry frowned at Dumbledore. "But that other uncle of mine was killed when Mr. Malfoy caused Avada Kedavra at him."
A grim look came over Dumbledore's face. "He lost his immunity when he attacked his own brother in order kidnap you." Irritation heightened the anger in his eyes, and Harry shared his disgust of his uncle, whom he hadn't known at all. Harry was surprised when Dumbledore began berating himself.
"I am sorry, Harry. I should have realized that weakness in the magic protecting you. I had thought it was impenetrable. No wizard could touch you so long as you were in the care of your relations, and no wizard could do away with your relations as long as they were protecting you. The magic works both ways, and even your family gained what we refer to as a wizard's immunity. Other Muggles couldn't harm them as well.
"But I hadn't anticipated the possibility of one of your relations being used against the other." Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "Brother against brother," he sighed, sounding grudging and admiring. "Lucius is as clever as he is poetic. He knew that once Vergil Dursley tried to take you from his own brother by force, the Elioneras Charm would cease to protect him, making him vulnerable to Avada Kedavra. But since he was still your uncle, Elioneras couldn't keep him from taking you away.
"The charm kept Harry safe for thirteen years, Headmaster," said McGonagall. "It was the best protection you could give him."
"No, it wasn't," said Dumbledore sharply. "He would have been safer here at Hogwarts, in my care."
"And you would have spoiled him silly," returned McGonagall dryly. "Harry wouldn't be who he is today had you not left him in the Dursleys' care, and look at how well he has turned out."
There was a derisive snort from Snape.
"What about Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked. Dumbledore glanced at Snape, who took a long time in answering. "Lucius agreed to spare Potter's life if the Headmaster took Draco as his apprentice," he said in a stiff tone.
What?! Harry gaped at them in shock.
***
"RELEASE ME!" Draco was incensed. His arms were bound to his sides by a thick cord of rope; his legs were similarly tied at the ankles. He was lying on his side on the floor of Dumbledore's office, and as they entered, he shot a murderous look at Snape.
"YOU TRAITOR!" Like a fish out of water, the pale-haired boy wriggled wildly, struggling to sit up. He jerked away from Snape tried to help him.
"KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!" Draco spat the words into the professor's face.
Harry felt a hand pushing against his back and glanced back at Dumbledore, who indicated that he should sit down. They passed by Snape who was hauling Draco to his feet. As Harry sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, Draco was dumped unceremoniously into the other.
"MY FATHER WILL HAVE YOUR HIDE FOR THIS!" he screamed, and Harry wished someone would gag the other boy. His head was aching badly from all the noise.
McGonagall, thankfully, shut Draco up with a silencing charm.
"Now that we are all here," began Dumbledore as he settled in his own chair. "Let us discuss how the two of you will be spending your summer."
There was a loud scrape as Draco's chair skidded back. He was attempting to lever himself up. He fell back when Snape pushed the chair back, causing another scraping noise as the chair's legs dashed against the floor.
"Draco, you will later go to Mr. Filch for floor polish," said Dumbledore.
McGonagall made a disapproving sound. "Now isn't the time for levity, Headmaster."
"But my floor, Professor-"
"Headmaster," said Snape warningly.
Dumbledore did most of the talking that followed. He explained that Harry could no longer stay with the Dursleys and that Draco was being held hostage in order that his father, Lucius Malfoy, would be hampered in his services to Voldemort.
Harry stared at Dumbledore, wondering why he was lying about the real reason why Draco was there. He glanced to the boy beside him. Draco had turned whiter than his usual pale complexion; his eyes were wide with fear. Harry realized Draco must be wondering what they intend to do with him.
"We will not harm you, Draco," Dumbledore reassured him, but those words didn't alleviate the anxiety in the boy's face. Harry watched as Draco glanced up at Snape standing behind his chair. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but no words came out. The silencing charm was still at work.
Dumbledore lifted his hand, and McGonagall undid the charm.
"Is that really why you kidnapped me?" blurted Draco. Snape remained quiet, his eyes meeting Draco's. They were unreadable.
"Professor Snape didn't have a choice, Draco." They looked back to Dumbledore, who had pulled open a drawer and was rummaging its contents. He pulled out a round tin can, saying, "The Dark Lord had made up his mind to kill him. Isn't that so, Professor?"
"Yes," answered Snape in a stony tone.
"There." Dumbledore pried open the cover of the tin. It was full of cookies. He offered the tin to them. Only Harry took a cookie, out of politeness.
"Surely you now understand a little bit of your House Head's dilemma, Draco," Dumbledore said. "When he met your father, he was informed that he would be executed the next time the Dark Lord gathered his followers to him. Professor Snape tried to persuade Mr. Malfoy to our side but to no avail."
Harry glanced at Draco and noted the proud feral gleam in the boy's gray eyes. They don't want him to know the truth. Why?
Snape continued, "As I couldn't recruit Lucius Malfoy, I had to make sure he would be useless to Voldemort. I knew he would be presenting you to the Dark Lord soon so I decided to take you away from him."
The look Draco gave Snape was hard and suspicious.
Dumbledore wiped away the cookie crumbs from his mouth and beard. "Since we all understand one another's position now, it is time to inform you that you will be spending your summer-"
"Now matter where you take me, my father and the Dark Lord will find me." Draco stated firmly.
"With the giants."
Draco was positively flummoxed as was Harry. His uneaten cookie slipped through his listless fingers. As it struck the floor, Draco shouted at Dumbledore, "YOU'RE INSANE!"
***
The Headmaster hadn't been joking, no matter how many times Draco insisted he was. Harry knew Hagrid would be visiting the giants, possibly with Madame Maxime, over the summer. He supposed he and Draco could go along with them.
But it turned out it wasn't as straightforward as that, and where exactly they were going was enough to make Harry agree with Draco that Dumbledore was crazy.
***
"I am not going in there," insisted Draco. He tried to back away from the wall mural, but was caught short by the length of rope holding him steadfast to Harry and Snape.
"We will be back in one month, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore informed her while hoisting his backpack onto his shoulders. Harry couldn't stop staring at him. He wasn't used to the sight of the old wizard dressed in a dark yellow short-sleeved tunic, green knee-length shorts with red straps holding it up. He also had a green coat and red Swiss chapeau with a yellow feather stuck in it.
McGonagall asked, "One month in here or one month in there."
"One month here," answered Dumbledore. Which was a year in there, Harry knew. McGonagall had explained the properties of Wvelte, which was what the mural was called.
Wvelte was an echo of the real world, he had been told, but without humans. A few known sentient races existed in it, such as the giants, centaurs, merpeople, but no wizards nor Muggles.
Harry shut out Draco's complaints and fought down the queasiness in his stomach. Wvelte covered more than dozen meters in height and in width. Its canvas showed a picturesque scene of a wide rolling meadow, its right bordered by trees while leading to the shores of a lake on its left. A mountain range loomed on the horizon. Wvelte was eerily still unlike the other paintings in Hogwarts.
"I leave the school in your capable hands, Professor." Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore gallantly tipped his hat to McGonagall before walking into the mural, pulling Harry and the others along into it.
The moment he entered Wvelte, Harry understood why they had to be tied along together. They had emerged unto the narrow ledge running along the side of a cliff. A strong gusty wind started buffeting Harry towards the precipice. He would have fallen had he not been securely tied to Dumbledore.
Draco immediately hugged the wall when he saw where they were. "I want to go back!" he yelled just as the last of their party emerged from a glowing white rip hanging in mid-air. It vanished as soon as Snape was through. The professor glanced at the long drop down, turned into a sickly shade of yellow and pressed his back against the cliff wall.
"We should get a move on, Headmaster," he croaked.
"Of course, Severus," said Dumbledore cheerfully into the wind. "Right you are."
It took them nearly an hour to reach the top of the cliff, where they found Professor Flitwick waiting for them.
***
"Wvelte will be completed within two months, Headmaster."
"Two months here or two months there."
"Two months there," said Flitwick.
Harry listened to their conversation attentively while at the same time keeping watch on the piece of meat he was roasting over the fire. It was a few hours after dusk. They had been hiking for about six hours. Opposite him, Draco was scowling at the fire, also holding a stick with a piece of meat over it. Snape was assembling a small portable collapsible cauldron.
"Good," murmured Dumbledore. He too was holding a stick over the fire. He was roasting a marshmallow.
"What do you mean by Wvelte will be completed?" Harry finally ventured to ask.
Flitwick glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded. "You see," Flitwick began, "we've been working with the centaurs in creating this world." He lifted his hand and gestured at their surroundings.
"Why for?" said Harry.
"As a bargaining tool," answered Snape with a grunt. He seemed to be having trouble uncollapsing the cauldron.
"Let me guess," drawled Draco. "You hope to get their support against the Dark Lord by offering this made up world to them, correct?"
"This made up world is real, Draco," said Flitwick, sounding a bit insulted.
"Right, whatever you say, Sir."
Conversation was scarce the rest of the evening, and it wasn't only because of Draco's lack of respect towards the teachers. They were all exhausted.
Yet, Harry didn't fell sleep immediately after climbing into his sleeping bag. He spend the next hour or so, listening to the fire crackling in the center of the camp and the faint sounds of his companions' breathing. Harry amused himself by musing if any of his professors snored, then felt more somber as he stared at the twinkling stars in the black sky above. He couldn't help but wonder if they were real.
To be continued.