Chapter 4: Chapter 4: "The Duel Within the Mind"
As Harry regained consciousness, he found himself not in the familiar surroundings of his home but in an endless, stark white expanse. This surreal landscape was in sharp contrast to the chaos he had left behind.
A sense of déjà vu enveloped him, as this place uncannily resembled the setting from the final book of the 'Harry Potter' series, where Harry met Dumbledore after Voldemort's attack. A chilling thought crossed his mind: was he on the 'other side', having succumbed to the night's events?
In the distance, a figure that Harry recognized all too well stood—Voldemort. This version of Voldemort, however, seemed different; less malevolent, yet undeniably sinister. His cold, red eyes locked onto Harry's, and with a predatory grace, he closed the distance between them. Harry prepared to confront him.
"Ah, so this is where I've ended up," Voldemort mused aloud. "In the mind of a mere child." A sinister smirk played on his lips. "And given the circumstances of this night, I deduce that I'm not the full Voldemort but a mere fragment, a shard of my soul split off during the bizarre events of tonight and latched on to you."
Fixing his gaze on Harry, Voldemort said "You must be the older Potter boy. I'm uncertain how I ended up within you. Though you're not the prophesied one, you'll suffice. Once I annihilate you here, I can take over your body and resurrect stronger than ever."
Understanding the danger he faced, Harry knew he couldn't let Voldemort prevail.
Harry's mind started racing, trying to find ways to get out of this predicament. He tried to conjure various muggle weapons like guns from his past life that could help him defeat Voldemort through his thoughts but failed. He also failed to summon other weapons and even magical wands from his memories.
After many failed attempts, it was only when he imagined the familiar phoenix-feather wand from the Harry Potter stories that he felt a wand appear in his hand and a surge of power course through him.
Voldemort's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "Oh, young Potter, you amuse me. I am surprised you even know how to hold a wand properly. But, do you think a mere wand can save you?" he taunted.
Harry replied with a confidence that belied his years, "You see... Voldy. This is my domain. Here, you cannot defeat me."
"A child," Voldemort sneered. "You think you can defeat me? I've vanquished the greatest of wizards. Your end is inevitable. Once your soul is crushed, I shall inhabit your shell. Imagine the world's reaction when someone from the Potter family becomes a Dark Lord!"
The duel began. Harry, drawing help from his grandmother's stories he loved, conjured spells far beyond the capacity of a toddler. "Diffindo!" he cried out, surprising Voldemort with the cutting curse. Harry himself was equally surprised and excited that the spell had worked. He felt a thrill he had never known; he was dueling with the most feared Dark Lord and holding his own.
As the battle raged on, Harry found himself learning and adapting. He was having fun, a stark contrast to the dark intentions of his opponent. Voldemort, initially toying with Harry as if he were mere prey, gradually increased his efforts as he realized the child was no ordinary opponent. Even though he felt significantly weaker due to being a mere soul shard, he couldn't fathom his inability to kill an inexperienced child who, inexplicably, could wield magic so effectively.
The duel escalated, spells flying back and forth like a deadly dance. Harry, growing more confident and fluid in his movements, was a stark contrast to the increasingly frustrated Dark Lord.
In a fit of rage, Voldemort, maddened by his inability to kill the boy, cast his defining spell, "AVADA KEDAVRA!".
Harry, seeing the green spell coming towards him, remembered the cliché scene from the books and instinctively cast "Expelliarmus."
Just like in Harry's fourth year in the original timeline, a tug-of-war between the spells ensued. It went on for a long time, and neither was willing to give up.
"Give up, boy! You cannot defeat the greatest Dark Lord of all time, Voldemort!" hissed the Dark Lord, his voice laced with venom.
Harry, undeterred, retorted, "Remember this defeat on your journey to hell, Voldemort or should I say Tom Marvolo Riddle!"
Hearing his true name uttered, Voldemort faltered, his focus wavering momentarily. Harry seized this opportunity, pushing the spell back with all his might. Voldemort's efforts to regain control proved futile.
As the rebounding curse struck Voldemort, he screamed in disbelief, "Noooo! How could I lose to a child!" His form began to disintegrate, his existence within Harry's mind crumbling away.
In the wake of his monumental victory over the fragment of Voldemort's soul, Harry felt an internal transformation. The energy of the vanquished soul shard was absorbed into his being, fortifying his soul.
Contrary to his expectations, influenced by fanfiction narratives, he acquired no memories of Voldemort. Yet, this did not dampen his spirits. He had faced and conquered a part of the most feared Dark Wizard in history, marking his first triumphant battle in this world. The exhilaration of this victory, his inaugural encounter with combat in the wizarding realm, was heady and empowering.
Emboldened by this experience and the knowledge from his past life, Harry felt a resolute determination solidifying within him. He recognized the daunting path ahead, littered with challenges and uncertainties. Yet, with this newfound resolve, he was ready to embark on this journey. His aim was clear: to prepare, to learn, and to grow into a formidable wizard. The trials that lay ahead would be arduous, but Harry was determined to face them with unwavering courage and strength.
As this internal resolution took hold, the scene shifted back to the physical world. In the ruins of the Potter house, where Harry's young body lay in an unconscious state, a sinister black sludge oozed from his scar. This dark residue, the last vestige of Voldemort's corrupting influence, slowly evaporated into the night, leaving no trace.
In a moment of magical purification, a brilliant white light enveloped Harry, healing his scar. The magic within him acted as a purging force, cleansing him of the last remnants of the Dark Lord's presence. The once prominent lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, a stark reminder of that fateful night, now faded completely.
As Harry lay there, his small form still and serene, the invisibility cloak that had shielded him earlier now lay crumpled beside him. The house, which once rang with the laughter of a family, stood wounded and silent, its walls echoing the night's grim battle.
Outside, the neighbourhood slumbered on, blissfully unaware of the profound struggle that had unfolded in the quiet house at the end of the lane.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5: “Aftermath and Revelations”
In the aftermath of the harrowing night, the once vibrant Potter residence stood as a somber relic, its walls echoing the terror and bravery that had unfolded within. The once joyful home now lay in ruins, its very essence altered by the night's events. The remnants of powerful spells lingered in the air, invisible protectors of the home's tragic secrets, unbeknownst to the world beyond.
The stillness of the night was abruptly shattered by the sharp cracks of Apparition. A group of familiar faces, led by James and Lily Potter, Sirius Black, and accompanied by members of the Order of the Phoenix, and the venerable Albus Dumbledore, materialized outside the house. Their expressions, a complex tapestry of dread and resolve, spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation they feared to face.
Upon entering the devastated dwelling, James was immediately confronted with the grim reality of his loss. His father, Fleamont, lay motionless, his final stand etched into the very ruins that surrounded him. The sight pierced James's heart with a grief so profound, it rendered him momentarily speechless. The loss of his father, once a pillar of strength and courage, left James reeling in a torrent of sorrow and disbelief.
Meanwhile, propelled by a mother's instinctive urgency, Lily ascended the stairs to the nursery. Her steps, heavy with a mix of fear and determination, echoed through the desolate corridors. Her heart raced with dread, each beat amplifying her fear for her sons.
"Lily, be careful!" James's voice followed her, a blend of his own anguish for his father and anxiety for his wife and children.
As Lily entered the nursery, she was met with a heart-wrenching scene. Euphemia Potter lay still, her final act of sacrifice evident in her peaceful demeanor. Lily's eyes, blurred with tears, moved swiftly to the cradle.
A whisper escaped her lips, a fragile thread of hope, as she approached her sons. "Charles, Harry," she murmured, her voice trembling with apprehension.
Her heart, which had been pounding in trepidation, experienced a tumult of emotions when she saw them: both unharmed, sleeping peacefully. She gently lifted Charles, cradling him in her arms. The sight of a small scar on his forehead briefly puzzled her, but the overwhelming relief of finding him safe calmed her anxious heart.
Turning her attention to Harry, lying beside the crib under the rumpled cloak, she noted with relief that he bore no marks or scars. Unknown to her, magic had completely healed his mark of a lightning-shaped scar, leaving no visible trace of the night's ordeal. Despite the horrors they had faced, her children were safe, a fact that brought a cascade of relief and gratitude.
"Oh, my loves," Lily whispered, her voice a mixture of tears and relief, as she held her sons close to her heart. The nightmare of the night slowly gave way to the realization that her family, though profoundly changed, had survived the darkest of times.
In the dimly lit nursery, now a tableau of sorrow and relief, the arrival of James, Lily, Sirius, and Dumbledore, along with other members of the Order, cast a somber shadow over the room. Sirius Black, his deep connection with the Potter family evident, shared in the collective grief, his eyes reflecting the profound loss that enveloped the space.
Albus Dumbledore, his countenance as enigmatic as ever, moved through the room with a quiet, deliberate grace. His fingers lightly traced the remnants of Euphemia's runic circle, sensing the residual power of her sacrificial magic. His gaze, both ancient and insightful, lingered on the two young boys, Harry and Charles, lying peacefully amidst the ruins of their once joyful home.
As Dumbledore leaned in to examine the children, his eyes, usually twinkling with hidden knowledge, were now searching, perhaps seeking confirmation of the cryptic prophecy. This was Dumbledore's first close observation of Harry; Fleamont's cautious approach had kept Harry at a safe distance, a decision Dumbledore had respected, given Harry's birth date did not align with the prophecy's specifics.
Upon examining Harry, Dumbledore noted the absence of any dark magic or remarkable marks and felt Harry's magical reserves to be surprisingly low, unaware that it was a temporary effect of the night's struggles. This observation led Dumbledore to completely dismiss the likelihood of Harry being the child foretold in the prophecy.
Charles, however, presented a different scenario. Dumbledore observed good magical reserves, though not at a prodigious level, and a cut on his forehead in the shape of a wand, which seemed to be saturated with dark magic. Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, this mark was an accidental consequence of the chaotic events and not a result of Voldemort's attack, yet it captured his attention as a possible indicator of the prophecy's fulfillment.
The wand-shaped cut could be seen as Voldemort marking Charles as his equal for the final confrontation in the future.
Dumbledore straightened up and turned to James and Lily, his expression grave but certain.
"James, Lily," Dumbledore began, his voice steady and imbued with a deep, resonant authority, "it appears that Charles is the child mentioned in the prophecy. From what I can conclude, Voldemort has been defeated tonight by Charles, but not completely. He still remains alive in some form. I fear he will return in the future and when he does, Charles will have to face him again."
He concluded, "It appears that Charles has defeated Voldemort, with magic unknown to me as it said in the prophecy. I will have to research into it to know more."
Dumbledore's conclusion, albeit partially inaccurate, was guided by his interpretation of the prophecy and the visible evidence before him. He omitted mentioning Euphemia's role, choosing instead a narrative that supported his deduction.
The revelation sent a wave of shock and fear through James and Lily. The thought of their infant son destined to face such darkness again was unbearable.
Lily's voice quivered as she sought clarity, "But Albus, hasn't the prophecy been fulfilled today with Charles's actions? Must he face Voldemort again? Can't someone else face Voldemort when he returns?"
James, equally shaken, suggested that Harry, being present during the attack and the elder brother, might also fit the prophecy's criteria. He harbored hope that Harry, with more time to learn and grow, could have a better chance than Charles to ultimately defeat Voldemort.
Dumbledore shook his head gently, his eyes momentarily clouding with an emotion hard to place. "The prophecy spoke of a child whom Voldemort would mark as his equal," he replied softly. "See here," he gestured towards Charles's scar, which was vivid and pulsating with a dark aura.
He then turned his gaze towards Harry, "and Harry bears no such mark," he continued, "The prophecy spoke of a child marked by Voldemort as his equal, and here we see the evidence. Tonight, Charles has been marked. The prophecy's fulfillment requires a future confrontation."
Before further discussion could ensue, the sound of Apparition outside signaled the arrival of more people. Dumbledore's attention shifted towards the noise, his demeanor changing to one of cautious readiness.
"It appears we have more company," he remarked, the seriousness of their conversation momentarily put aside as they prepared to face the new arrivals.
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