Capítulo 231: 28
Chapter XXVIII: The Ritual
(Harry P.O.V)
Harry's arm stiffened as he faced the training dummy, his acacia wand in hand. He flicked his wand with authority the incantation of the spell rattling in his mind, Expelliarmus! Harry smiled as he watched the wand fly from the hand of the dummy a feeling of pride swelling in his chest. "Again!" Moody shouted, "Faster!"
"I already showed you that I can do silent magic, why do I have to keep practicing this? Aren't there more important things that I could be working on?" Harry grumbled as he dropped his arm.
"I can walk," Moody growled, "That doesn't mean I'm good at it." Harry flinched as the electric-blue eye of his trainer fell upon him. "Until you can do the basics silently and eventually without a wand in your sleep, there's no point in working on anything else."
"I'm already further ahead than any Hogwarts student when it comes to that," Harry said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "Shouldn't we be working on some powerful spell that can give me the edge in the war you claim is coming? I don't think that disarming spells are going to help me beat Voldemort."
"You know who else is better than every Hogwarts student, Voldemort," Moody said with a snarl, "And maybe these spells won't be the thing that kills Voldemort, but they'll keep you alive." Moody cracked his neck, "Now, enough complaining," Moody said, "Again, boy."
Harry sighed as he lifted his wand returning to his practice. One dummy disarmed, then another, and another. In all honesty, Harry had begun to forget just how long he'd been practicing the spells before the sound of an alarm charm shook the enclosed Room of Requirement. Harry only had a momentary sigh of relief that his training had come to a close though. Normally the sound of the alarm meant that he'd be on his way to see his girlfriend and best friends for dinner, but tonight, Dumbledore had requested his presence.
"Alright, boy," Moody said calmly, "Clean yourself up, we don't want to be late for Dumbledore."
"We?" Harry asked curiously.
"Yes, boy," Moody said, "We. Unless you'd like for Dumbledore to roam your mind freely again." Harry instantly nodded accepting Moody's offer watching as his trainer conjured a towel for him to dry off his sweat and change back into his uniform. He wasn't quite sure if Dumbledore had become aware of his training sessions with Moody, but if he hadn't, he didn't want to give it away. Though he was unsure as to how Moody's presence in the Headmaster's office would be explained away.
As soon as Harry had finished buttoning up his shirt, Moody's staff hit the ground, the towel vanishing. Harry swallowed hard as he turned to face the door. Going to see Dumbledore had made him nervous enough, the idea that Dumbledore planted something in his mind had only made it worse making him feel queasy, but if his own misgivings weren't enough to make him dread the walk to the Headmaster's Office, Moody sour expression certainly was enough to seal it. Harry couldn't help but notice that he'd adopted much of his trainer's tendencies. Though his eyes were far from magical, they scanned the halls furiously, looking for any possible threat. His demeanor had remained calm and collected, the words of Moody permanently ringing in his head, The expression of fear means that you've already lost.
The distance between the Room of Requirement and the Headmaster's office was sizable, and yet, the walk had gone by far quicker than Harry had hoped. It wasn't long until he and Moody stood face to face with the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's privacy. "Open your hand boy," Moody hissed as he threw a galleon into Harry's hand.
"Um, Professor," Harry said, "I don't exactly need any money."
"Quiet," Moody hissed, placing his finger to his lips, "This here galleon is charmed specifically for this purpose. Should you feel the need to interrupt your Occlumency training for any reason, all you need to do is rub the face of this coin." Moody then pulled another galleon from his pocket, "In turn, this coin will begin to heat up alerting me that something is wrong and I'll come up and grab you for a story I made up. If however, your session goes longer than expected, I will rub the coin and the burning feeling will be strong enough to snap you out of your occlumency dive. Understand?"
Harry nodded, the rapid pace of Moody's speech becoming second nature to him now as a sharp grin appeared across the Auror's grizzled face, "Good. Now go on." Moody turned to the gargoyle and muttered out, "Pumpkin Pasties." His staff smacked the ground once more, and before Harry could blink, the man had become invisible, leaving Harry feeling alone as he turned to face the winding staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. Well, Harry said with a deep sigh, Here goes nothing.
As Harry climbed the staircase, he quickly found that the door to the Headmaster's chambers was open, waiting for him. His head poked into the entrance, and Harry's eyes instantly locked upon the Silver-Haired Headmaster. Dumbledore looked tired, more so than usual and in his hand rested a copy of the daily prophet. "Harry my boy," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly-tone, "Come in, take a seat."
Dumbledore's voice was pleasant, but his tense nature betrayed his inner frustration as Harry took a seat before the Headmaster. Harry ran his thumb over his knuckles feverishly, a couple of weeks had passed since his last meeting with Dumbledore, and after the events of the second task, he really wasn't looking forward to seeing the man again. Though he also knew better than to turn a blind eye to Dumbledore, for as much doubt as he now had in the man, the power of the elderly wizard was unquestionable.
"Harry," Dumbledore said warmly, though the friendliness of Dumbledore's voice was beginning to infuriate him. Even with all the shit that Moody had put him through, Harry had still felt that Moody treated him more like a person than Dumbledore had, even if Moody's interests had been a bit self-serving as well. "It has been a while since we've spoken, I was hoping to check in on you after the second task but things had gotten a bit complicated."
"Frankly sir," Harry said honestly, as he folded his hands on the table, "I'm not sure how much we have left to talk about. I appreciate you taking the time to train me against Voldemort's mental attacks, but your willingness to put children at risk during the second task has left my once growing opinion of you a bit stunted."
"Ah yes, that was a nasty piece of business," Dumbledore said morosely, "Personally I objected to the idea, I was hoping that Ms. Belmont would have mended her relationship with Ms. Delcour before the task, but that didn't work out."
"So you would have put another fourteen-year-old in harm's way rather than a ten-year-old," Harry said with a sigh, "Much better." Harry's eyes became glued to the ground as he grumbled, "This whole competition is a load of shit."
"See, this is exactly the problem I was hoping to discuss with you, my boy," Dumbledore said calmly. "Your upbringing was not that of a traditional wizard, and I do understand that even with Sirius and the Tonks family surrounding you, you are not exactly well-versed on the less common pieces of wizarding culture." Harry nodded, to an extent what Dumbledore had just finished saying wasn't necessarily untrue, and yet he didn't quite understand the purpose of this observation. "Judging by your bewildered expression," Dumbledore began once more, "I imagine that you haven't exactly been keeping up with the Daily Prophet."
"Why would I?" Harry asked with a shrug, "They probably haven't posted an accurate story since before you were even born."
"You should care about what the Daily Prophet is reporting because public perception is important in the development of 'Soft Power'," Dumbledore said unfolding a recent Daily Prophet Article with a Headline that read: Harry Potter: Parslemoth and Rebel, Does Our Once Savior Even Care About The People He Saved? Not Really, Harry thought to himself as he scanned the article. "This is a very damaging piece of press, Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice weary, "Your loud outburst has left many in the wizarding world believing that you think that they are barbarians, that you don't care about their customs. I know that competing in the Triwizard Tournament was less than ideal for you, but for many wizards, this is a second-most loved sporting event in Europe."
"Your unrestrained criticism of the Triwizard Tournament as Bloodsport and your lashing of Mr. Bagman, a very well-liked ministry official is painting you as a dangerous renegade to the way of life that most wizards hold dear." Dumbledore sighed at Harry's unmoved expression, "You're stuck in a tournament you don't like, I understand that," Dumbledore said tiredly, "But making enemies of the people we need the support of if we are to win this war is the last thing that we should be doing."
"I won't make allies of people who think that chaining innocent children to the bottom of a freezing lake is entertainment," Harry said, "And if the wizarding world doesn't like it, so be it." Harry's fingers balled up into a fist, "I've actually been thinking about it a lot recently. Voldemort is certainly a threat, but the problems of the wizarding world are far beyond him. This isn't just a war for me, Professor. This isn't just about revenge. This is about a revolution, a new start to this wizarding world."
Harry's thumb rubbed the back of Moody's coin, a wave of anger surmounting in his chest as Dumbledore leaned forward, "Harry, you can't win a war by alienating people."
"Half-Breeds, Mudbloods, Squibs, Pureblood Aristocracy," Harry began, "I hate to say it Professor, but the wizarding world is already fantastic at alienating each other." Harry pushed back his chair as he glared into Dumbledore's eyes, "When we started this training, you said it was my war, I've been forced to accept that role, but I won't fight for a wizarding world who does nothing but flip-flop on their opinion of me and my friends. I'm going to fight for my revenge, and for the people like my mother who the Death Eaters don't believe even have the right to exist. This is my choice Professor, so either get on board, or get out of the way."
The door swung open as Moody hobbled in at the response of Harry's call, though the Auror paid him no mind. "Sorry to intrude Albus, but I have some information that could be of great importance." Harry was simply amazed at how seamlessly a lie could fall out of Moody's mouth. "I think we should discuss it in private."
Dumbledore nodded much to Harry's quiet amusement before turning to face him, "I understand your sentiments, my boy, but you are playing a very dangerous game." Harry's head began to throb as what could only be Dumbledore's seed of doubts began to make Harry's stomach churn, "I do hope that with some time you will reconsider your position and work on gaining back the support of the wizarding world."
Harry clenched the doorway of the Headmaster's exit, his throat feeling hot with guilt before Moody 'accidentally' caused a book to drop from one of Dumbledore's shelves, the smack of the tome hitting the ground monetarily breaking Dumbledore's concentration freeing Harry from the hold. "N-not likely, sir," Harry grunted out as he rubbed his forehead, "Have a goodnight, Professor."
Harry quickly closed the door behind him as he continued to rub his temples, his body stumbling down the stairs, his head throbbing, "One thing's for sure," Harry growled, "Dumbledore definitely doesn't want to just be an advisor."
(Michael P.O.V)
"So you're serious, huh?" Michael asked as he gazed numbly at his best friend, his back touching the cool stones of the Castle's corridor, "You're certain of it?"
He watched the way Harry's eyes sank, "I really wanted him to be my mentor, you know?" The broken trust was evident in the Boy-Who-Lived's voice, "But there's no denying it anymore," the cool April breeze brushed against the windows that lined the castle's walls, "Dumbledore definitely put something in my head, and I need to get it out. I already talked to Daphne, she said the potion will be ready in a few weeks. Which is good because the sooner we can get this over with the better. I need to know," Harry paused as Michael watched his best friend's eyes cloud like a sea in the middle of a storm, "I need to know that the decisions I'm making are my own."
Michael nodded, though his chest felt tight at Harry's words, "You know I'm with you all the way, but I can't say I'm exactly thrilled to watch you drink what's essentially a bottle of poison from a madman's notebook."
"I'm not exactly thrilled to be drinking it," Harry said with a worried grin, "But I'm starting to think that we're running out of options." Harry sighed, "I can't allow myself to doubt my decisions when push comes to shove. I need to be ready."
"Alright," Michael said just above a whisper, "Let me know when it's time, I think that Daphne, Neville, and I have our parts down. But if I recall, Daphne said you needed four people apart from Moody for this thing. Any idea on who else you're going to pick? Sirius or Remus maybe?"
"Tonks," Harry replied, "Moody said that he's been keeping Tonks updated on what to do. I wish it could be Sirius or Remus but they're both too cautious of my safety to consent to this plan. Plus, Moody trusts Tonks more than anyone else, I don't like the idea of keeping Sirius and Remus out of it, but it makes sense."
Michael sighed as he tried to bring a comforting grin to his face, "If only I knew that being friends with you would have been so much work, I might have sat somewhere else on that train." A light chuckle escaped Harry's lips as Michael began his walk towards the nearest castle exit, "I'll be ready when you need me, Rook, I swear it. For now though, I've got a date."
"Have fun," Harry called back, his voice fading into the background as Michael exited the castle, the grounds now fully relieved of the melted snow. If only it could be, he thought to himself as he approached the Forbidden Forest, the sound of distant laughter and conversation from other students about the grounds fading. In its absence, the howling sound of the wind brushing through the hollow trees filled the void. Michael hated the forbidden forest, there were far too many things that could kill a wizard in it if they weren't careful, but he'd made Claire a promise, and he was going to keep it.
Michael waded his way through the forest, sliding between trees, his eyes constantly scanning for any threats. In the distance, a blue glow filled a small clearing, and Michael knew he had arrived. His pace quickened as he pushed aside a shrub, watching on as the pink-haired model in the center of the open space held her wand tightly in her hand, the tip pointed at a target board sticky charmed onto a tree. "Come on Claire, focus." Claire flicked her wrist and Michael watched with a smile as she spoke the incantation, "Reducto."
A bolt of blue flung itself from the wand, blasting into the tree a couple of feet above the target board. No, it wasn't perfect, but considering that a couple of months ago Claire couldn't even cast the spell at all, Michael saw it as a huge success. Claire, however, thought otherwise. "Merde," She hissed in frustration, the sweat gleaming on her body as her skin glowed in the sunlight that broke through the trees, "One more time."
"How about a short break?" Michael called out as he pushed through the bushes. "You know, Pretty Bird," He started teasingly, "Most people would wait until their date arrived before starting the festivities." Claire's grey eyes softened as they met his Brown pools, the two now standing face to face. "You're getting better," Michael whispered, taking his girlfriend's hand in his, "I know you don't feel that way, but I promise you are."
"These results aren't good enough," Claire said with a sigh, her fingers gently sliding out of Michael's grasp, "I'll never be able to convince my father like this."
"Convince him to do what?" Michael asked, his head tilted with confusion.
"I don't want to go back to Beauxbatons," Claire said weakly, "I hate it there." Michael looked on in silence as Claire continued. "All I have at Beauxbatons is Fleur, and we aren't even on great terms. The press constantly harasses me, the professors are quick to dismiss my faults instead of helping me grow because I'm the minister's daughter, and I don't have any actual friends there. All I have at Beauxbatons are boys that try to flirt with me every second, and Fleur, and even if I can patch things up with Fleur she's leaving me next year anyway."
"Meanwhile, here I don't get much special treatment, and even with all the shit that's been going on I feel like I'm actually getting better at magic." Claire paused for a moment catching her breath, her fingers roaming across her palm becoming a fist, "For the first time in my life I actually have friends. Harry, Daphne, Hermione, Neville, Tracey, Blaise, and... You."
Michael swallowed hard as he stared at his girlfriend, "My dad," She started once more, "He said he'd consider the transfer if I actually managed to show him I'm getting better at magic, but," Her eyes shifted towards the smoldering mark she left completely off-target, "Results like that aren't going to cut it."
"You want to stay at Hogwarts?" Michael whispered a softness to his voice that he himself didn't recognize. Claire stayed silent only nodding her response as he took her hands in his, "We're only fourteen, it doesn't have to be this serious, you know?"
"I know," Claire said, "But Veelas, we're different from normal wizards, we-," She stopped her eyes trembling, "I'm being really selfish right now." Michael's brow furrowed as he scanned the french beauty, "Michael," She said, her voice serious, "Do you want me to leave after this year? Please, just answer honestly."
Michael stood there, his mind felt foggy as words struggled to come to his mouth, "Claire, I'm involved in something that's much bigger than me and-"
"You're planning on fighting a war," Claire said blankly, as Michael's eyes widened, "I'm not an idiot Michael, I've overheard you and Harry whispering about it. V-Voldemort," She said, struggling to force the name out, "You and Harry, and by extension, I'm guessing most of your friends, you all think that he's coming back soon."
Michael had felt as if he'd been submerged in ice water at Claire's truthful observations, "I want to fight," Claire's face paled at the words that had escaped her lips, "Not really, actually, but, I will. Voldemort, the idea of him coming back scares the crap out of me, but the guilt of knowing I turned my back on people that have treated me so kindly, I don't think I could live with that."
"Harry, Daphne, you, Neville," Claire started, "I consider each of you my friends, and I'll fight with you all if you want me too. So I'm asking," Claire said, her eyes locking with Michael's, "Do you want me to stay?"
The sound of silence filled the clearing as Michael stared down at his girlfriend, her eyes bright with determination. His heart pounded in his chest as he reached his hand out squeezing hers tightly, "Pick up your wand," He whispered, "We have a lot of work to do if we want to convince your dad to let you stay."
Claire's smile brightened up the entire forest as Michael felt heat rise to his face. For a moment he feared the reaction the girl would have as she placed her head to his chest hearing his rapid heart rate. However, there were no comments, no snippy retorts, all there was, was quiet as Michael wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. Claire's whispers felt warm against his chest, but the words were unintelligible. He had wanted to ask what Claire had said, but the French girl simply looked up at him and asked, "So, where do we begin?"
(Daphne P.O.V)
Daphne had felt her arms begin to cramp, she had greatly underestimated the difficulty of brewing the potion, which was saying something because she'd already assumed it would be the most difficult potion she'd ever make. Tracey nudged her, taking the ladle from her hand and relieving her as she stretched out her arm beside Blaise who was rubbing his waking arm as well. "Twelve hours," Blaise whispered in amazement, "The instructions actually called for the last step of this potion to be twelve hours of stirring by hand."
"At least we timed this out correctly for a weekend," Tracey said, "And we have Neville to thank for prepping the potion. We just have a couple more hours to go." Yeah and then I get to feed my Boyfriend poison, fantastic, Daphne said with a sigh as she tried to hold back his discontent. Obviously though, she wasn't as sly as she thought she was being as Tracey quickly caught her eye. "He's going to be fine, Daphne. He's too stubborn to die."
A faint smile grew across her face as she nodded, "Do you two have this under control, I think I'm going to start prepping Harry?"
"Go be with your man," Tracey said with a chuckle, "We can handle this."
Daphne's smile grew as she whispered her thanks, spinning out of the cursed bathroom up towards the designated meetup spot. How long had they been planning this? To Daphne, it had felt like a few days, but as the calendar dictated that April was quickly coming to a close it became clear that they'd been working on this for weeks. She sighed, her heart feeling heavy despite Tracey's kind words as she approached the seventh floor corridor that Harry had outlined in great detail. The wall she'd been told to approach looked not even the slightest bit distinct from every other wall in the castle. Though she knew that a matter like this would be one that even Harry would take seriously.
"I need a place for a ritual," She muttered as she'd been instructed to by Harry, pacing back and forth before the wall. It hadn't taken long before her theory had been proven correct as an ominous black door had seemed to form from nowhere right before her eyes. "Okay," Daphne whispered, "This is going to be fine, everything is going to be fine." With her confidence bolstered if only for a few seconds, she pushed in the door and entered the ritual chamber.
The chamber was dark and gloomy, and it looked more like a mortuary than a meeting chamber, though for the mood, it was hard to argue that it fit. Despite that, laughter, for some reason filled the chamber. Her eyes followed the noise landing on a scene that warmed her heart. "Wow, she's definitely gotten bigger since the last time I saw her!" Harry said, his voice brimming with life as he looked down at the picture Tonks held in her hand.
"She's pregnant you idiot," Tonks snipped back, "I might be that big one day and if you call me huge I'll kick your ass."
"That would require someone to want to marry someone as clumsy as you," Harry teased back, "Let's call it a long term goal."
Tonks' hand playfully slapped the back of Harry's head as she snorted with laughter, "You're such a prick."
"Yeah, but you love me anyway," Harry said with a grin. Daphne watched as his boyfriend's eyes fell upon the picture once more, "Wow though, I'm going to be an uncle, that's crazy." Tonks nodded gently as Harry continued, "By the way, when did you say their wedding day is?"
"End of summer," Tonks said, "They wanted it sooner, but planning a wedding takes time, and to be fair, wedding planning isn't exactly atop the list of priorities. Especially since our mole has confirmed that Voldemort is definitely on the move."
"Will you two stop the gossip," Moody barked, his back turned to the two siblings, "We have company." Daphne was unsure how she knew, but she was certain that Moody's eye was looking back at her through his head, "Is the potion almost ready?"
"Y-yes, sir," Daphne said startled a bit by the abrupt nature of Moody's outburst, "Tracey and Blaise are going to bring it up in a bit, I came to help prep Harry for the- for the ritual." She felt her boyfriend's eyes turn to her, a look of discomfort evident in his emerald green pools as Harry nodded his acceptance.
"Alright then," Moody growled before turning to face Harry, "Boy! Get in the center of the room, right at the epicenter of the runes I already drew." Daphne had felt stupid upon realizing that nearly the entire floor had been coated in thin black runes in a circular pattern. Amidst the marking were six open circles. One in the center for Harry, one just to the right of Harry which Daphne could only assume was meant for Moody, and four open circles on each corner of the room for the rest of them.
Daphne's stomach had felt sick as she approached Harry, the boy now sitting cross-legged in the center of the runic circle, his shirt removed and his eyes closed. "Don't look so nervous," Harry said, "Everything is going to be fine."
"How do you know I look nervous?" Daphne asked, kneeling behind Harry, "You can't even see me."
"I just know," Harry said warmly, "Now relax a little will you, or you might start making me nervous. After all, all I have to do is drink some poison and undergo a dark ritual, what could go wrong?"
"Ha ha," Daphne laughed, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Very funny, Flyboy."
The sound of new footsteps entering the room echoed through the ritual chamber as a familiar voice called out, "What's very funny? Rook making jokes about him dying again?"
"Can't have too much change," Harry called out as Daphne's eyes darted towards the group of three that had entered. Despite Michael's practice aloof demeanor, Daphne felt it was quite possible that he looked more nervous than she did. Neville, on the other hand, put up no resistance to hide his fear, the boy looked almost as green as a frog. But the worst of them was Astoria, whose effort to keep up a brave face was crumbling right before her eyes.
Daphne almost felt like she overheard the telepathic conversation that was being shared between Michael and Harry, with Harry's eyes melding in a mixture of soft and cold glances, and Michael returning with sad eyes that read, I tried to stop her from coming. Daphne's hand that rested against Harry's back pulsed at the tension of the Boy-Who-Lived's muscles as Astoria ran towards him, a glossy film over her eyes. "You're not going to die, okay?" Astoria spoke as if she was issuing a command, "You're not allowed to."
"Roger that commander Short-Stack," Harry said warmly as he leaned back against Daphne's hand, "You Greengrass girls all worry too much." Harry's eyes had looked almost as if they'd been lit ablaze with fire, "Here is not where I die."
"I sure hope not, I'd rather not have to explain to Sirius and Remus what happened," Tonks said trying to keep the mood light, "It was hard enough keeping this plan a secret as is, it would suck if it just ended up being a waste of time."
"Speaking of wasting time," Moody growled, "Greengrass, I suggest you get to work, prepping the ritual runes will take a fair amount of time itself." Daphne nodded in agreement as she pulled the journal out of her bookbag, opening it to her marked page, the diagram showing the exact layout of the rune pattern.
"You can do this Daphne," Harry lifted his wrist exposing his engraved wrist runes, "I know you can."
Now I'm starting to get how you were feeling during the second task, Daphne thought through gritted teeth, the tip of her wand placed against Harry's back. "This is going to sting a bit, but it'll go faster if you don't move."
Harry nodded, and with his consent, Daphne began. Each touch of her wand was met with the sound of searing skin as the runes began to form across Harry's back. Merlin, I hope I can remove these or at least cover them up, maybe a large dose of dittany right after, she thought as the engraved runes began to lightly scar into the skin. Daphne fought against her trembling hand as she went around Harry's body, but somehow it looked like it was hurting her more than him, though the moderate twitching in her boyfriend's eyes confirmed that he was indeed feeling the pain. I've gotta hand it to you Flyboy, your tolerance for pain is something else.
Daphne honestly felt uncertain of how long it had taken her to complete the rune endowment, but judging by the fact that Tracey and Blaise had entered the room with the putrid smell of the cauldron in their hands, it must have been hours. A sigh of relief left Harry's lips as Daphne removed her wand from his body, Harry's eyes now glancing down at the lines that now encompassed his entire body. "Alright," He said, his voice filling with exhaustion, "Step one complete, time for step two."
Daphne's eyes followed Moody as he pulled the ladle from the poison-filled cauldron, pouring the liquid into a vial the size of an eyedropper before walking back towards Harry. "Okay, boy," Moody said, his voice gruff as always, "When I say to, you will drink this potion. The concoction of poisons inside of it will begin to purge any traces of foreign magic in your body. The Phoenix tears will keep you alive but just barely, and you will feel incredibly weak." Harry nodded, "Now," Moody said, turning back towards the audience, "Tonks may already know this but as I haven't exactly taught any of you fourth years anything about it yet, so prepare yourself for a crash course."
Daphne swallowed hard, her attention fixed completely upon Moody, "Magic is no some abstract concept for us Wizards, we are essentially magical beings, with the ability to do magic coursing through our blood. For better or worse, this is what leads many foolish wizards to believe having pure magical blood makes you a more gifted wizard. This, of course, is untrue, however, what is true is that a wizard's magical core is directly associated with their life force. What makes wizards live longer than the average being is the fact that the magical core is capable of empowering a wizard's life force so that even if their natural life force begins to decay, their magical core can keep their engine running for a lot longer, so to speak. Does everyone understand that?"
The room nodded with confirmation but as Daphne's eyes fell upon Astoria, a dark thought slipped across her mind, But if a wizard's magical core is compromised, they'll die faster than muggles with an average life-span. That thought was cut short by Moody's continuing lecture, "The ritual we are about to perform will target Potter's magical core directly, disrupting his magic system due to the nature of the poisons used. Will we counteract this by flooding our own magic into Potter to keep his core balanced and thus keep him alive. It is for this reason that each and every one of you only transfers enough magic to keep his core in equilibrium. Too much in either direction and Potter will die."
"How the hell do you expect us to get this right on the first try!" Neville shouted on in frustration, "This is way too risky, there has to be another way to-"
"I don't want Potter dead either Longbottom!" Moody barked back, "That's why I'm here to overlook the situation. Notice how each of your runic circles leads to mine before it leads to Potter's. I'm going to act as what the muggles refer to as a flood gate and distribute magic from you all to Potter as needed. Does everyone understand their assignment?" Neville swallowed and nodded before Daphne and the others followed suit, "Good, then let's begin. Potter, whenever you're ready."
Daphne hated the feeling of leaving Harry's side as she walked towards her assigned circle, her eyes never leaving Harry, his eyes glaring down at the tiny vial in his hand, "Well," Harry called out to the crowd surrounding him, "It's now or never," And without a second's hesitation, Harry drank.
Daphne felt her heart stop as Harry's body dropped to the floor with a thud, "Harry!" She shouted, but Harry didn't even move.
"Focus girl," Moody growled, "Charge your magic right now!"
Daphne swallowed her fear as she focused placed her wand on the ground, magic pouring from her core like an ocean current towards her fallen boyfriend. The black runes quickly exploded with a white glow from all angles as the scars that now covered Harry's body soon became encompassed in the same light. Grunts of agony erupted from Moody as he tried to focus the raw power forcing blood to leak out of his pores, his own body acting as a focus crystal. "Moody are you alright?!" Tonks called out her voice filled with worry.
"Keep going!" Moody shouted, "Don't stop!" Moody's body shook as if he was in the center of an earthquake, the magic that filled the room making the entire chamber shake so much that for a moment Daphne feared the roof was going to collapse on them. Yet, for all the magic, entering Harry, he didn't move. "Stop holding back! I will not let Potter die! Give me everything you have!"
Daphne closed her eyes, her teeth grinding against each other as a roar of pure anguish erupted from Moody's throat. The grizzled Auror's body turning red as the strain became increasingly evident. Though Daphne couldn't focus on Moody for long as another thunderous roar soon overshadowed his. "Arghhhh!" Harry roared, a purple mist starting to rise from his forehead.
"That aura," Michael sneered, "No mistake about it, that's definitely Dumbledore's."
"That bastard!" Tonks growled, "How dare he fuck with my brother's head!"
"Focus!" Moody's voice shook with pain, "Just a little longer!"
Daphne's eyes fluttered open, but she wished they hadn't as on the ground in the center of the ritual circle Harry's body rolled and flopped about on the floor. It had almost looked as if Harry was having a seizure, except this one looked as if the pain was exceeding that of even the Cruciatus Curse. Please hang in there Harry, please! She pleaded.
Thankfully her prayers were answered as suddenly Harry's violent spasms seemed to stop. Though from her view, she could see that both of Moody's eyes had become fixed upon Harry as from beneath his guttural grow. Something was definitely wrong, and the light whisper of the Auror only confirmed it, "What the hell is tha-,"
"Get out!" A voice roared from Harry's mouth, but it sounded nothing like him, "Get out!" Without a second's notice, a shockwave of black colored magic shot out from Harry sending everyone flying from their circles. Daphne hit the wall hard, the sound of cracking bones echoed throughout the room as Harry turned to face her.
Daphne felt as if she was paralyzed, her insides throbbing with agony... whatever was speaking, it certainly wasn't Harry. Her body trembled as she looked at Harry, his right eye had retained its typical emerald green composition, but his left eye had morphed, becoming red and serpentine in appearance. "What the hell is happening?!" Michael shouted, his arm covering his ribs, unwelcome tears streaming down his face from the pain.
"We managed to release Dumbledore's plant from Harry, but there was something else in there, and it's much stronger than whatever Dumbledore left there!" Moody shouted back. How many things do you have in your head, Harry? Daphne cursed as she tried to stumble to her feet, watching helplessly as Harry's body began vomiting uncontrollably. "Everybody get back!" He shouted as he raised his staff, slamming it to the ground with the force of a thunderclap.
Daphne watched as Harry's body stopped moving, looking almost as if he was trapped in a full body bind, but to both her disbelief and Moody's, Harry shouted once more, releasing another wave of foul feeling magic around him. Daphne had wanted to race towards him as Moody was sent tumbling back, but she had already found herself in second place as she watched the nimble Pink-Haired Auror race towards her younger brother, pushing closer and closer despite Harry's magic output. Daphne had found herself amazed at Tonks' tenacity, the woman looked like nothing more than a leaf in a tornado, but she pushed forward without relenting an inch. "Harry!" She shouted, "Look at me!"
Daphne watched on in horror as Harry's eyes fell upon his older sister. "You need to get a grip, Harry. Something else is in control of you right now and you need to get it back." With a swipe of his hand, Daphne watched as Harry generated a windstorm stronger than that of any Ventus spell she'd ever seen. What is that power? Daphne questioned as Tonks sidestepped the attack continuing to push on, "Get a grip, Harry!" Tonks shouted, "It's your body, you control what happens!"
Harry roared in anguish, the dark magic rolling off his body in giant waves. "If we don't stabilize you, you will die!" Tonks pressed on, "Your dream of avenging your parents will die! You'll never see Sirius' wedding or your nephew! You won't be able to spend time flying on your broom! You won't be able to laugh with your friends! You won't be able to hug your girlfriend! If those things matter to you then gain some control!"
"I-it hurts," Harry whispered, the red in his eyes flickering back to his original color as tears streamed down his cheeks, "It hurts so much."
"Hang in there kid," Tonks said her voice calm and focused, "I'm almost there, just hang on."
"Tonks," Harry whispered, Daphne's heart breaking at the pain in her boyfriend's voice, "Help me." At Harry's words, Daphne's eyes widened as Tonks lunged forward wrapping her arms around him.
"I'm here Harry," Tonks said the ominous windstorm around Harry dying down, "I'm always going to be here for you. I promise. You're okay, Harry, you're going to be okay." Harry's body flinched and trembled in Tonks' arms as his eyelids began to droop, the emerald color now firmly apparent in both eyes as the waves of foul-feeling magic began to stop, "We're going to be okay, we're going to be just fine."
"Tonks," Harry said, his voice sounding weaker than Daphne had ever heard before, "I'm tired."
"Sleep kid," Tonks said a soft smile on her face, "You did well."
Her eyes broke momentarily from Harry as she turned towards Moody hoping for an answer. By the look on the grizzled Auror's face, whatever he thought the answer was, he certainly didn't like it. "I've only felt that magic from one other person. There's no denying it," He whispered almost as if he was talking to himself, "That was his magic, but why would Harry have access to it."
Moody stumbled forward his magical eye focused heavily upon the boy, "Without a doubt, more happened that night he attacked than I first thought."
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