Chapter Text
“Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half forgotten.”
-J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
The full moon was drowsily making its way out of the sky, to make way for the encroaching dawn, and the Hogwarts grounds were all but deserted. Of the few staff members that had remained over the summer break, all were sound asleep. The night owls had already shuffled off to bed, and the early birds hadn’t yet deemed it time to rise. The grounds should have remained undisturbed for yet a few more hours, but in the stillness of the early morning a group of figures in dark cloaks darted out of the Forbidden Forest, heading towards the school.
There were five figures in all, but they had no obvious leader. In their hurried pace it didn’t seem they were following anyone and it didn’t matter who took the lead. Some carried heavy books, while others had their wands at the ready, but all of them had the same weariness about them as if expecting a fight at any moment.
They would need to be quick if there was even a chance of their mad plan succeeding.
They paused at an inconspicuous side entrance, the few with wands feverishly waving them about and murmuring complex spells. It was a few tense moments, in which they were all filled with doubt and dread, before the door gently pushed itself open, and they were admitted entrance.
As they took those first steps into the castle, they could almost taste their victory. They could feel it in the air surrounding them, sweetly whispering sought after promises.
Tonight, they would be reunited with their beloved dark lord, and they would be greatly rewarded for all their troubles.
***
It was a large golden owl, with soft feathers and a vicious bite that woke Harry from his nightmare. Five years after the war and he was still having them almost every time he closed his eyes. Glimpses of broken bodies with familiar faces and the sound of a cold, merciless laugh haunted his dreams.
Harry slowly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and regarded the owl before him. It hooted impatiently and stuck out its leg, unimpressed with his slow pace. Groggily he untied the bit of parchment presented to him and the bird immediately flew off in a rush. Glancing at the battered piece of paper, it was clear it had been sent in an even bigger hurry than it was received. It looked like someone had torn off a corner of what was likely the nearest bit of parchment and quickly scrawled a few sloppy words onto it. Reading them, Harry jolted fully awake.
The letter read:
Harry, Death Eaters at Hogwarts. Hurry.
It wasn’t signed, but the hand writing was easily recognized as Neville’s.
After the second it took to read and understand the ramifications of the letters content, Harry bolted out of bed and hurriedly looked for something to wear.
Since the Battle of Hogwarts, the savior of the wizarding world had been living a rather dull life. He’d been eagerly welcomed by the Ministry of Magic when he’d joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as an Auror. He’d hoped a few good fights with some dangerous dark wizards would be a distraction from the ceaseless guilt he felt over all the lives lost because of him, but in truth he got more action in the training fields. It wasn’t that they never sent him out into combat. Far from it. Any and every chance they could they sent out the famous Harry Potter, with his legendary scar and rumored invulnerability, the person who had defeated the most powerful dark wizard of the century, perhaps of all time. The sight of him, or even just the mention of his name, had most sane wizards up to no good running for the hills. As soon as he showed up the dark wizards usually either surrendered or tried to flee.
The Death Eaters were his only challenge. Despite Voldemorts death, the Death Eaters still survived. Some had been killed during the battle for Hogwarts, and many more had been tried and sent to Azkaban. Still, there were a few who had managed to elude the Aurors for these past years. They stirred up trouble when they could and refused to let the world forget about their master and his deeds. They recruited new members with the promise that Voldemort would rise again, and people actually believed them, after all he’d done it before.
The Head of the Auror Department had placed Harry in charge of hunting down the remaining Death Eaters and disbanding the group. It was nearly unheard of for someone so young to be given such a position, but no one under his leadership had ever shown Harry anything but respect and complete faith in his decisions. Harry actually found that the Death Eaters were the only ones who would stick around and give him a fight. It wasn’t that they didn’t fear him like the others, he had a feeling they feared him the most, but their hatred for him greatly outweighed that fear.
He quickly threw on his crumpled Auror robes that were still lying on the ground exactly where he'd thrown them last night. Checking his pocket he noted his wand was still in it. He then dove into the closet and grabbed his broomstick. Sprinting as fast as he could outside, he apparated the moment he was past the wards he kept in place around his home. Hogsmead swirled into view and he immediately mounted his Firebolt to fly the rest of the way to Hogwarts.
The castle looked exactly the same as it always had, untouched by time. He hadn’t been back since the final battle, and honestly was having a hard time figuring out how he felt about this all. Hogwarts was the only place that had ever truly felt like home to him, but it was also where many of his friends had been murdered. He pushed all such thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding there were more pressing matters to deal with at the moment, and he’d evaluate his emotions later, likely with a strong drink in hand.
He landed elegantly, outside the school’s main entrance and began running the second his feet touched the ground, dropping his broom carelessly on the steps. The giant doors were opened invitingly, and he’d only just entered the castle before spotting Neville Longbottom waiting anxiously for him.
Neville had been given the position of Herbology teacher just a few months ago, but before that he had been helping Harry hunt down the Death Eaters. He’d likely taken the position expecting to get away from all of this. Harry didn’t even have to say anything. Falling back on old habits, Neville started filling him in the moment he was in ear shot.
“I sent out a few more owls. One to the Ministry and one to Ron. But you’re the first to arrive.” Neville shifted nervously from foot to foot. “There’s five of them. They went straight to the Slytherin Common room. No idea what they want or what they’re after. The only reason we even know they’re here is because one of the portraits saw them and woke the Headmistress.”
Harry considered this. What could possibly be in the Slytherin Dormitories worth breaking into Hogwarts for. Since the war had ended, security had been seriously improved in the school. It’s a wonder they’d made it this far, and undetected. It had to be either a very brilliant plan or a very stupid one that had made them all willing to risk their necks. Either way, something had to be done and quickly. Because no matter what plan they had concocted, the Death Eaters end game was never a good one, and he couldn’t let them get whatever it is they were after.
“The teachers?” He glanced at Neville.
“The ones that are on the grounds are all waiting in the dungeons just outside the entrance. Got them trapped inside, but we didn’t want to go charging in just yet.” Neville gave a tired smile, and Harry couldn’t help but notice that his old friend, who’d always been gentle and avoided conflict, was far more comfortable with this situation than he would have liked.“Not without some backup.”
Backup. How much longer would it be before the Ministry responded? Harry knew there were protocols that needed to be followed, permission that needed to be given, decisions that had to be made. Could they afford to wait? He didn’t want to make the teachers of Hogwarts again fight for their school and their lives, but it didn’t look like they’d have much choice. They had almost no information and that left them at the disadvantage. They couldn’t waste time waiting.
Just as he was about to turn towards the dungeons, Ron came running inside, panting and out of breath. Relief flooded Harry, there was no one he trusted more to watch his back, and now he wasn’t the only Auror on the grounds. All they did was nod at each other and Harry updated him in just a few words on the situation before the three of them headed down into the dungeons.
***
The fight was over quickly, and honestly there wasn’t much of a fight. Harry, Ron, and the Hogwarts teachers had rushed inside the Slytherin Common room with wands raised. They’d outnumbered the Death Eaters almost two to one, and that wasn’t the only thing in their favor. Nearly half of the cloaked idiots had been more interested in drawing scribbles on the ground than in actually defending themselves. It’d all been over in less than a few minutes.
Harry needn’t have worried so much. There were no casualties and almost no injuries on their side. The worst of it was the new potions professor who had lost her right hand, but she seemed unperturbed, even excitedly listing off the ingredients she’d need for the potion to grow it back, as Professor Flitwick stopped the bleeding. However, most of them didn’t even have a scratch.
The Death Eaters hadn’t been so lucky. They looked battered and beaten. A few were even knocked unconscious. They all sat now, by an empty fire place, their backs pressed together and their hands all tied by a bright glowing rope that McGonagall had conjured up. All five of them refused to say anything, choosing instead to glare silently. This didn’t bother Harry in the least. Whatever their plan had been, it’d been stopped. And the Ministry would be here soon to take Voldemorts supporters into custody. No doubt their intentions would come to light soon. He’d have a neatly written report about it on his desk by tomorrow.
The ancient runes professor seemed to be trying to put it together himself. He was toeing the circle of strange marks on the floor with suspicion, being careful not to touch any of them.
Harry had sent Neville back upstairs to great the Aurors when they arrived and lead them through the dungeons. That left Harry and Ron to make awkward small talk with teachers they hadn’t seen in years, and avoid eye contact with each other. Harry and Ginny were going through another break, and like all the other times it left a strain on Harry’s relationship with Ron. The red head claimed he didn’t want to take sides, and honestly tried not to, but it was still difficult to be as relaxed around each other as they usually were.
It was when Ron was bragging to the Headmistress about a book his wife had just published that Harry felt something off. Glancing toward the Death Eaters he saw they were all still tied tightly together. They weren’t a threat any longer. He cast his eyes about the room, looking for whatever was filling him with this foreboding feeling, but nothing looked amiss.
Then a cry of triumph came from the Ancient Ruins professor, drawing everyone’s attention towards him.
“I’ve got it!”He gleefully gestured toward the ground to the circle of nonsense he’d been studying. “I’ve finally got it! This. This right here, see?” and he jumped up and down a bit while pointing towards something that to Harry looked remarkably like the letter R. “That translates to journey. And the triangular one all the way on the other side there is the rune for ti-” but he didn’t get to finish his impromptu lesson.
In his excitement, he’d bounced himself into the circle. His shoe smudged a small, unimportant looking symbol and that must have been all that was needed because it started to faintly glow. Like dominoes falling one by one the symbols around it began to glow as well. The intensity of their brightness grew with each symbol that lit up until Harry had to squint to keep his eyes open.
Everyone took an instinctive step back.
“Professor! Get off of it!” Ron shouted at him, making wild gestures with his hands to make the importance of his words clear, but he didn't dare move closer. “Get off!”
But the Professor, who Harry suddenly realized he had fought beside but he didn't even know his name, was glued to the spot. He stared down at the glowing symbols, watching as they slowly began to move, his face stuck somewhere between terror and amazement. His whole body seemed to have frozen. The Professor wasn't going anywhere.
Shock. He was in shock.
Harry had seen it many times and recognized it just a second before he took action.
Darting forward, he rushed past Ron and the Hogwarts teachers. Having no time for delicacy he crashed himself into the shocked Professor and knocked him completely out of the strange circle that was now radiating with light. The Professor fell over and crashed over the back of a sofa. Safe.
Harry had no time to celebrate, though. Looking down, he found that when he'd knocked the Professor out he'd knocked himself in.
He was now on his hands and knees directly in the center of the circle.
It's symbols were moving faster and faster now, spiraling in towards the center, towards Harry. They were a blur and he couldn't make any of them out now, they were just streams of light pulsing below where he knelt.
Shakily he tried to get to his feet, to get away, but he couldn't. Something was pulling down at him, it was like gravity had gone haywire and was making even the slightest of movements difficult. Still he tried, straining his muscles he managed to drag his hand a few inches forward, but then the pull got stronger, and he fell forward. He lay flat unable to move a muscle.
Shouts of his name could be heard from around the room. They were panicking. They didn't know what to do. He wanted to tell them to do nothing, to not risk getting themselves caught, but even his jaw felt too heavy to move.
As the lights burned brighter, blinding him, he looked out across the room. He didn't really know what he was looking for, maybe Ron, to tell him with his eyes that it was going to be fine. But his eyes didn't find Ron.
They found a Death Eater.
She wasn't very old, maybe in her early thirties. Her hair was already streaked with grays, and her clothes were a dull faded color that would have been unflattering on anyone. She was still bound to her fellow extremists, and her body and face were littered with dozens of scrapes and bruises. A particularly nasty gash above her left eye was sluggishly dripping down her face. Her face. That was what cut Harry to his core. He had seen many horrors over the years. Had seen others witness these horrors and the effects it had on them. But never. Never had he seen that look on someones face before. She was terrified. Not just terrified. It was deeper than that. She was looking at Harry like he'd just opened the gates to hell.
That was the last thing he saw.
The light had reached an intensity that forced his eyes closed.
He lay there helpless, blinded and unable to even twitch, as he awaited a fate that not even his enemy wished upon him.