Chapter Nine – Scar Pains
By Kateen
Although Harry didn't miss a class over the next three days, he could rarely be seen with his hand far from his scar, and several of the teachers commented that he had a constantly perplexed look on his face. Hermione and Ron had stopped asking him what was wrong, when it became painfully apparent that Voldemort was doing something to him, somehow.
He didn't worry, however, until day three when nobody had been taught even the most basic shield. Did Dumbledore really know what he was risking? Something was causing Harry to doubt it.
Harry had begun to sense that Voldemort was regaining strength and slowly reaching consciousness again, and was about to go and speak with Dumbledore again, when he received a very confusing letter from Sirius,
Dear Harry,
Don't trust anyone! Not even teachers. Keep your problems to yourself and they won't be compounded.
Sirius.
Harry had frowned, he didn't trust anyone, but he couldn't save the world himself. He needed Dumbledore to begin to teach everyone how to look after themselves, or he would be more worried about looking after them than defeating Voldemort, which was going to take all his concentration and powers, anyway.
Ever since he'd come back, Harry had kept up the pretense of being good friends with Ron and Hermione because he didn't want anyone to get suspicious, and even Dumbledore had his uses when Harry kept up the appearance of being in his pocket.
As a War Mage, Harry didn't actually have friends – unless they were War Mage's themselves, and then they were more partners in crime (or otherwise). He didn't have relationships as such, but he sure as hell had women. His tastes in bedmates extended to those who gave and received equally, he wasn't after beauty (although it always helped) and he wasn't after sluts.
He hurried down, on day four of Voldemort's time unconscious, to breakfast, having decided that if nothing else, he would have to reveal himself to Dumbledore and convince him of the severity of the situation, but it was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Harry!" Ron howled, having been looking at his class schedule, "we have POTIONS first!"
Harry raised an eyebrow, "is it really so bad?" he said coolly, "We have to do it, but we don't have to complain all the time. It's not worth the breath, is it?"
Hermione blinked, "finally, you grew into some common sense!"
"More than you'll ever know," Harry said under his breath as he flashed her a small smile and took a few pieces of toast. He glanced up to the high table and saw Dumbledore watching him with scrutiny, Harry smiled faintly at the elderly wizard, who didn't return the greeting with his usual cheerful grin.
That alone caused Harry to think that something was bothering the older wizard, but he didn't have time to ponder it. He had Potions classes to get to. Instead, Harry settled himself with sending a quizzical glance at Dumbledore and heading off after Hermione and Ron, who were waiting patiently at the door,
"Come on, Harry," Ron snapped, "we don't want to be late."
Harry merely nodded and leaned over to Hermione, "just kiss him and get it over with. He needs to get over himself."
"Harry!" Hermione howled, "There's nothing – "
"Between you," he finished for her, "I know, but that doesn't mean that there shouldn't be, and I assure you that I don't mind."
Ron had walked ahead and turned around to see Harry leaning in, talking to Hermione, his head nestled into her shoulder, and her smiling genially.
"Well, fine!" He snapped and started off down the passageway.
Harry smirked, and ignored him, but Hermione ran off after him.
"Oh look," Malfoy came up behind Harry, "Potty's been ditched by Mudblood and Weasel, how pathetic!"
"Morning, Draco," Harry said, nodding politely at him, "How was your holiday?"
Malfoy blinked, "Couldn't keep your friends, huh? So you had to come back to me. I told you you'd come begging."
Harry laughed, "Oh, Draco, do I look like I'm begging? I could beg you to do many things, if you want? Hell, you might even enjoy some of them."
There was a choked laugh from behind him, as Hermione stuffed her hand in her mouth to prevent herself from breaking out with mirth.
"Uh, anyway, we're going to be late for Potions," Malfoy mumbled as he hurried past the three of them. Harry turned and followed him discreetly, wondering how long it would take for the rumor to spread through the school.
Probably not that long.
Potions was an interesting lesson, to say the least.
Harry hadn't even walked in before Snape sneered at him, "Ten points for tardiness, Potter."
Not responding, Harry sat down in his seat up the back of the room, ignoring the Potion master's star and began to set up his cauldron. He glanced up at the board, and saw that they were brewing a healing potion that had been one of his specialties when he was training all those years ago. He frowned as he read the ingredients, this was a particularly complicated version of the potion.
Sighing, he began to brew it, not bothering to read the instructions. Once you knew the theory of Potion making and the qualities of the ingredients, you could understand the nuances of the brewing and why you did certain actions.
Snape walked around the room, awarding the house points to Slytherin for 'good attempts' and 'well prepared ingredients' while taking points off from Gryffindor for a drop of water on the floor or some other misdemeanor. Class became interesting when he reached Harry.
"Potter," he sneered, "why is your potion Violet? My instructions clearly state that it should be Emerald green!"
Harry, keeping one eye on the potion, looked at Snape, "Yes, Professor, but you have written up instructions that are far more complicated than necessary. If you add the Bezoar before the Frog liver, you have the same effect as adding shredded clover roots after the potion has brewed. This makes the potion Violet colored until it has finished brewing when it will turn to a clear, emerald green."
Snape blinked, "That we shall see, Potter. Twenty points from Gryffindor for contradicting a Professor who clearly has more experience than yourself."
Harry raised an eyebrow, before turning back to his potion and adding the Frog liver. It immediately turned to an Emerald Green similar to that of his eyes, "is this satisfactory, Professor?" he asked politely, "I would be happy to test it, if you would like?"
"Elanschwung!" Snape cried, and Harry hissed in pain as the cut on his wrist, where the Grand Master Mage had slit it, opened again.
He grabbed the potion, and took a mouthful, at the same time as dabbing some on the wound. Hoping against hope, Harry watched as his body tried to knit together. Because it came from the wound that had struggled to heal before, Harry had doubted if any healing potion would heal it.
"Professor," he said softly, his voice deadly calm, "there is a reason behind this, and I shall explain it to you in Dumbledore's office. If you would inflict a different injury, we can test it properly."
Snape growled but refused, "You've had your chance, Potter!"
Ron snapped, he grabbed his knife and placed a cut across Harry's upper arm. He then grabbed the potion and applied it to the wound. It covered over immediately, "There you go, Professor."
Harry nodded a silent thank you to Ron and stood, waving his hand to pack his belongings. He then walked straight out of the classroom, his books trailing behind him. Snape followed momentarily (after instructing the class to pack up and get out of his sight). Harry paid him no heed, sensing each and every movement.
As they passed a turn off to the Gryffindor common room, Harry banished his books, and continued up towards Dumbledore's office. At the Gargoyle, Snape hurried over to him, but Harry wasted no time and placed a hand on the stone, which immediately sprang to life and let him inside.
He saw that the door was shut, and sensed multiple presences in the room, so he sat down on the chair in the waiting room. Snape took the one opposite him and watched as Harry began to magically cast numerous healing charms at his wrist. None of them worked.
"I should have brought Lilith, Prianz or Saraide with me," he sighed, as he began to charm bandages onto his wrist.
He turned to Snape, "well done with the murder attempt," he said with a smirk, "pity it hasn't worked yet."
Snape raised an eyebrow, "I believe I'm getting an explanation for that in a few moments," he said, "but why didn't you go to the Hospital Wing?"
"Because Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal this if she tried. None of the doctors at St. Mungo's could, either."
"Oh, really?" Snape asked, "When will you get over this superiority complex of yours?" he sneered.
Harry smiled amusedly, but said nothing.
The door to Dumbledore's office opened a few minutes later, and Sirius and Fudge stepped out, followed closely by Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody. All of them, except Mad-Eye, blinked in surprise when they saw Harry and Snape sitting together waiting for Dumbledore.
"Ah, Harry," Fudge said distantly, "how lovely to see you again, I must be off, you know how it is, things to do, people to see."
Harry nodded politely, "of course, Minister."
Mad-Eye nodded to Harry after Fudge left, "more to you than meets the eye, eh, Potter?"
"More than you'll know," Harry agreed, as the Auror hurried out the corridor after the Minister for Magic.
Remus looked between Harry, Sirius, Snape and Dumbledore, "What are you here for, Harry?" he asked kindly.
Harry held up his wrist, "I have some explanations about recent events, a certain War Mage, a failed Potion, and my absence over the holidays."
With a hand motion, Dumbledore allowed Harry and Snape to enter his office. Sirius followed, "I think I'd like to hear what my godson has to say."
Dumbledore frowned but motioned to Remus, "you should stay, and keep the peace, Remus."
When everyone was settled, Harry waited for the questions to begin. One of the few things that Magi learnt in their training was that if others started the conversation, you always had the upper-hand. It was up to you how you used it.
"Why did you allow me to slit your wrist, if you knew the potion wouldn't work on it?" Snape demanded finally.
Harry smiled, "That is a lo-ong story. I was kind of hoping that it would help you to get over whatever complex you have about me, but if it didn't work, I don't really care."
"Why didn't the potion work on your wrist when it did on the cut that Mr. Weasley gave you?"
"Because the cut was inflicted by a Grand Master Mage," Harry said simply.
The reactions were nothing short of varied, to the extreme. Snape's eyes hardened, "You should know better than to lie to a teacher, Potter,"
Sirius stiffened and stared hard at Harry, while Remus' grip on the chair tightened visibly. Dumbledore's was the most interesting, however, as he dropped the cup of tea he had been sipping.
Nice one, Lord, Fawkes said into Harry's head.
Harry cut his eyes to the royal red phoenix, Thanks, It was well delivered if I do say so myself!
"Harry," Dumbledore choked, "Are you joking with us, or are you being serious?"
"No, I'm not being my godfather, I'm telling the truth. The Grand Master went by the name of Phenylketon, when training us. I received the wound as a reward, and punishment, for a situation that I failed to salvage."
"Training you?" Dumbledore jumped in.
Harry nodded, "you asked where I had been for the last month? I was not in this time. I went back to the time of the Magi, and learnt to be one of them. I spent five years of their time there, before returning to find only a month had passed here. There have been many illusion charms on me, to prevent my Magi identity being found out, but unfortunately that didn't quite go as planned."
Snape grimaced, but said nothing.
Dumbledore frowned, "I know it is rude to ask for a Magi name, but can you show us your Magi self?"
With a wave of his hand, Harry's figure dissolved into thin air, and reappeared. He was taller, tanned and well toned. His face was sharp and angular, and his hair was long – tied back but still reaching his waist. The only thing that remained from Harry Potter of Gryffindor was the scar, that had faded and changed slightly over the years, and the crystal clear Emerald green eyes, blank and devoid of emotion.
None of them seemed to make the connection to the Mage that they had met earlier, so Harry waved his hand again, and his clothing changed into traditional War Mage attire, and a Silver and Gold staff appeared in his hand.
"Does this help any?" he asked kindly.
"You saved my life," Snape whispered, amazed, "why?"
"I may not have liked you as a fifteen year old, but I do not hold grudges, and I do not condone death. I may be a War Mage, and enjoy the battle, the risks and the killing, but I do not enjoy death. You didn't deserve to die that way, and I wasn't going to let Voldemort think he was getting the upper hand."
Dumbledore blinked, "You are the Mage who warned me of the Ancient Magic," he stated.
Harry's eyes hardened at the mention, "Yes," he said calmly, "and I want to know why you've done nothing. I cannot defeat Voldemort without some assistance, and especially not if I'm looking after everyone here. They will survive longer if they can maintain a decent shield."
There was a universal flinch as everyone realized that they were faced with an angry Grand Master War Mage who they had disobeyed. Harry frowned, "they should be taught immediately. I, personally, am leaving Hogwarts for a few days. Voldemort is still out there. I may have placed him in a temporary stasis, but he can still get up and move around. He just cannot use his magic."
Dumbledore frowned, "and how can you apparate in Hogwarts?" he asked.
"I do not use magic the same way you do," Harry said simply, "I ask the elements for help. Your wards do not allow for Hogwarts itself to aid me, but it only works because I can speak to the school, and the building."
Sirius was frowning, obviously trying to puzzle his way through, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" he asked finally.
"Because you are," Harry said quietly, "there are things each of you are missing, and I can't – and won't – tell you. What I have told you, you are allowed to know. What I haven't, you can't.
"I am leaving now. If anyone asks, I'm in the hospital wing, and I'm not allowed visitors," he looked around at them all, "and I will be back in a few days."
As it turned out, however, he was back almost a week later. He had gone back to the House of the Family for a while, and then into the Paths to find Letharnet in his own time. Letharnet had been keen to see Harry again and they had spent hours discussing what he had done.
Harry had then traveled even further back, trying to find a particular brand of magic that he could use to fight Voldemorts' Ancient Magic, and ended up fighting in an Elven war, scoring a scar across his right eye, causing it to droop slightly, and an arrow through the shoulder.
When he retuned to Hogwarts, and the twenty-first century, he found that the only thing remaining, was more surprises.
He hurried through to Dumbledore's office, upon his return, still in his Mage attire. When he stepped inside, only Dumbledore and Fawkes were in the office, and were looking very worried.
"What's he done, now?" Harry asked, with a sigh.
Dumbledore simply handed a black envelope across to Harry.
Dear Mr. Potter,
You are probably aware that your fellow Gryffindorians have all disappeared. In fact, they are in my tender care. It is understood that you are keen to have them back as soon as possible.
I ask only for you, in return for all of them. If you are agreeable to these terms, then present yourself in front of the Hogwarts Entrance Hall at midnight tonight.
Voldemort
Dark Lord
Harry sighed when he read it, "I believe it's time this was dealt with," he said to Dumbledore.
"What are you going to do?" The headmaster asked anxiously.
"Exactly what he wants, which is exactly what he doesn't need," Harry said simply.
"But-"
"I want you to have all the Gryffindor parents inside Hogwarts tonight," Harry said quietly, "at Midnight I will go and deal with Voldemort, as Harry Potter. He will take me prisoner. Do whatever you have to do to appear to search for me, but leave me there. I will find my own way home."
Dumbledore shook his head, "I can't allow you to do that, Harry,"
"Professor, I have spent the last week of your time, fighting elven wars. Elves are a lot more dangerous than a measly wizard with a power complex. I will be fully healed and energized when I go to him. Voldemort is dealing with an unknown. I will do it, whether you allow me to, or not."
"Please, Harry! Don't do this!" Dumbledore said quietly, "What about Sirius? Your Friends? None of them would want you to sacrifice yourself!"
"Who said I was sacrificing myself?" Harry demanded blandly, "It just has to appear that way. I will disappear from the world, and return as who I truly am, a Grand Master War Mage. This is best for all involved."
Keep telling yourself that, Harry, and one day you might believe it, he said to himself sadly.