On the way to death

STAND UP!

Harry Dursley woke up with a start. The small room adjoining the infirmary where he was supposed to be was plunged into darkness, except for two bloodshot eyes staring at him with hatred. He tried to escape and realized with horror that he was paralyzed by an enormous magical pressure on the verge of crushing his bones.

What’s gotten into you? We’re on the same side. Harry Dursley managed to whisper despite the magical pressure suffocating him.

Do you really hope to gain my trust once again? I have been patient enough with you. Tell me immediately where the Elder Wand is, and maybe I will agree to listen to your ramblings before locking you up in a place where I am sure you will no longer harm anyone.

But you're crazy. How am I supposed to know where you put your damn wand? I've been here all day. Argued Harry inNoting that the director's clothes were torn and that a large scar now crossed his leg.

Stop this charade immediately, or I will have to resort to far less civilized methods. Responded the director in a threatening tone. Growing more and more panicked, Harry replied.

Since I'm telling you that I don't know anything about it. All I remember is... You bewitched me! Accused Harry Dursley, recalling his last moments of consciousness.

Not enough apparently. Endolo...

But before the director could finish his incantation, a red flash illuminated the room and a magnificent bird landed on Harry Dursley's chest.

Fawkes! Exclaimed the director, tears in his eyes, as he let his magic fall.

Immediately, Harry felt immense relief and clung to the bird as if his life depended on it, then it began to sing. Gradually, the magnificent song calmed Harry Dursley, who began to slowly stroke the legendary bird. The headmaster also tried to approach the bird, but it then stopped its song and pushed him away with a peck.

Fawkes, why did you come back for this boy after abandoning me all these years?

Are you really asking the question? Are you blind or what? You tried to torture me. Harry blurted out, but the director ignored him and continued to address the bird.

Everything I did was necessary. You know that, don't you? I really did my best all these years.

The bird responded by producing a strange sound again. It wasn't really a song, but it was undeniably beautiful and it stirred a mix of contradictory emotions in Harry Dursley. A confused mix of regret, attachment, and something else that Harry couldn't identify, which made him uncomfortable. Then tears welled up in his eyes when he understood the meaning of what he felt: forgiveness. Absolute forgiveness for everything he had done. But that's not what the director felt, because he got angry again.

Why can't you forgive me?

I believe it's you who can't forgive yourself. And that's normal since you can't even admit what you've done. What you've become. Stated Harry in a voice soothed by the powers of the Phoenix.

How dare you judge me? You know nothing of war and the sacrifices it demands. Shouted Dumbledore.

I know them better than anyone and you are right, I have no right to judge you. However, I notice that you didn't even hesitate before casting the Cruciatus Curse. Since when has the Cruciatus Curse become a habit for you?

Dumbledore reacted as if he had just been struck, then asked more calmly.

If you are telling the truth, then how did you acquire the cloak of death?

What are you talking about?

Dumbledore then took a long silver cloak out of his pocket that Harry Dursley immediately recognized.

The cloak! It's Dark-Harry, I mean my double who had it. Where is he? What did you do to him?

I should have suspected it. He escaped from the Weasleys to come see you. But he could never have succeeded alone.

He might surprise you. That kid has resourcefulness.

Or else he is being manipulated by Voldemort. That's what I feared from the start, you...

Don't even think about trying to pin this on me. It was your responsibility to ensure they were well treated. You refused to ask for help when it became clear you wouldn't manage.

If you don't mind, we'll discuss later whose fault it is. Can you get up? We need to find him.

Yes, I believe so. I feel like I've regained my strength. Harry Dursley replied as he stood up.

Strange. Commented Dumbledore while looking at the cloak before heading into the corridors and Harry Dursley followed him (making sure to stay a few steps behind).

Could you now explain to me what is happening and why you look like you've been beaten up?

While continuing to walk, Dumbledore explained to him:

Despite the protections, your double somehow managed to introduce a basilisk into my quarters. I don't know how Voldemort acquired this creature or made it obey him. In any case, the basilisk tried to kill me. Fortunately, the alarm I set on the Horcruxes went off before it killed me in my sleep. As you can imagine, it was not the most pleasant awakening I've had to endure in my life. After engaging in combat, I noticed the presence of your double, whom I mistook for you. I used my magic to shield him behind me, but he cast an Expelliarmus without a wand. Once he committed his theft, he fled, condemning me to certain death against the basilisk. Fortunately, as if alerted by my imminent death, Fawkes returned from exile to heal my wound and distract it while I retrieved my old wand.

Harry Dursley stopped dead in front of the shocking information Dumbledore had just thrown at him. But the first question he asked was:

Horcruxes? How long did you put me to sleep? Asked Harry, as the anger rose in him again now that Fawkes was no longer there to calm him.

Before answering, Dumbledore sighed:

Just after Voldemort's attack on Diagon Alley, under the pretext of a surprise inspection visit of the security measures, I went to Azkaban to neutralize the most dangerous Death Eaters. Quite conveniently, Sirius had not revised his will since his incarceration, so Harry is still the sole beneficiary. Moreover, with the not entirely informed consent of my dear friend Lucius a few years ago, I quite conveniently had the inheritance rules in the wizarding world modified, particularly in cases where a lineage would die out without a direct heir. As a result, as head of the Black house, Sirius inherited the Lestrange vault through his sister Bellatrix Lestrange née Black, and your double inherited it in turn. In short, I only had to pull a few strings so that my status as guardian allowed me to intervene in the goblins' handling of the succession.

Harry was afraid to understand what he meant by that, but his expression left no doubt.

No, but you are crazy! Sirius was innocent.

That remains to be proven. Your parents assured me that he had chosen him as the secret keeper.

Maybe they had finally understood that you cannot be trusted.

Or more prosaically, perhaps he was afraid that I might accidentally reveal their secret to the spy who had infiltrated our ranks. Nevertheless, the choice to entrust their security to someone as weak as Pettigrew seems utterly absurd to me. Furthermore, I do not think he had the skills or intelligence necessary to deceive me for so long. Not to mention that he would have had to manage to trap Sirius Black and mystify all the witnesses of their confrontation. Finally, I do not see how Sirius would have ended up in possession of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes if he were not one of his most loyal lieutenants. No, perhaps the Sirius of your world was innocent, but mine was definitely guilty.

Who are you trying to convince? Me or your conscience? He asked, coughing violently.

Gently, you should take it easy. Said Dumbledore softly, handing him a handkerchief.

But Harry Dursley pushed him away.

I will not ally myself with a psychopathic murderer to defeat another.

And I will do what is necessary to ensure that my world does not meet the same fate as yours. Even if you are right, Sirius, like all the others, has his share of innocent blood on his hands. And he was fully aware of the stakes and risks when he committed to becoming one of my pawns. He was by no means an innocent to be protected and knew that I might have to sacrifice him one day.

You could have had him released. Reopen the trial.

It would have taken too much time. And even then, only if I managed to do it. There are far too many prominent personalities, starting with the minister himself, who would be too embarrassed to reopen the case of post-war management and the parody trials that marked it. And I'm not even talking about the public opinion terrified by your little stunt on the bypass and who would be outraged at the prospect of releasing an alleged Death Eater. In another context, I would probably have chosen this route, but I can't wait several years for the procedure to come to an end.

There had to be another way.

Which one? Anyway, we'll have plenty of time to argue about it once we've found your double. After his theft, he's probably going to try to leave the estate. Do you have any idea how he plans to do it?

I don't even know how he managed to get in. And even if I knew, I'm starting to wonder if I should really tell you.

Do you think he will be safer when he is at the mercy of Voldemort? Think about it, have you discussed Hogwarts? Or a place where he could take refuge? In short, don't you have a way to find him?

No, I never talked to him about Hogwarts, well, I don't think so. Anyway, I don't know any secret passage that allows leaving Hogwarts. If he weren't so young, I would ask Fred and Ge... I know the Marauder's Map.

The what?

But instead of answering the director's question, Harry frantically searched his pocket.

Where is my baguette?

Dumbledore took a wand made of holly wood from his pocket that Harry recognized among a thousand. Harry grabbed it with an angry gesture.

You are lucky we're in a hurry. Accio Marauder's Map!

After a few seconds of waiting that were a torment, an old parchment flew towards Harry. After thanking Merlin that Filch was a Squib and thus unable to protect the objects he had confiscated against magic, he swore that his intentions were bad and immediately a map of Hogwarts appeared. He had no trouble spotting in the completely empty castle the only points corresponding to living beings, including one running in the Forbidden Forest towards the boundaries of the estate's protections.

Without wasting more time in discussion, they started running in his direction hoping it wasn't too late. However, even though he knew it wasn't the right moment, Harry couldn't help but reproach in a breathless voice from the run:

All the same, I do not appreciate the ease with which you get rid of people.

War is cruel and does not distinguish between the innocent and the guilty.

But here, we are at peace.

Really? Does what happened 3 days ago on Diagon Alley look like peace to you?

It has nothing to do with it.

And do you think that the former Death Eaters still at large suddenly gave up their idea after Voldemort's defeat? That the hundreds of fanatical soldiers under his command all ended up behind bars and that only reasonable people who followed him out of fear or interest remain free? That after so many years of war and violence on all sides, they simply decided to turn the page, forgive their adversaries, and renounce the use of violence?

Maybe you haven't really tried to move on either?

I think I am better positioned than you to know. You know nothing of my world.

They cannot be worse than those in my world, and mine took the opportunity offered to them to renounce violence. Well, almost, Harry conceded, thinking back to the episode of the Chamber of Secrets and Lucius's temporary takeover of Hogwarts.

Trust my experience, there is always worse.

Then they stopped talking, out of breath from their run. They had just arrived at the edge of the forbidden forest. They entered the sinister forest in silence, moving as quickly as the dense vegetation allowed.

oOoOoOo

Dark-Harry was running as fast as possible without caring about the direction he was taking. Anyway, it had been a long time since he knew where he was. He stopped for a few seconds to catch his breath. A branch snapped, something was coming. Was it his imagination or were eyes staring at him in the darkness? He jumped violently. Something had just brushed against his leg.

Harry, calm down. It was just an animal, he said out loud to try to reassure himself.

At first, he had run straight ahead to get as far away as possible from the castle and the old cabin where Voldemort's servant was waiting for his return. Then he had to take a detour to go around a cliff.

Then yet another time when he had to hide in a rush from a monstrous ogre hunting in the bushes. Finally, he kept telling himself it was an ogre so as not to feel stupid, but in truth, he hadn't taken the time to find out what the monstrous beast was that made all that noise as it walked in his direction. Then, with twists and turns, he got completely lost in the immense forest. A forest that would soon be filled with police or servants of the dark mage determined to punish him for what he had done.

However, at that moment, he almost hoped they would find him. He was alone, he was cold, and he had to admit to himself that he was completely lost. Without being able to help it, he began to cry softly, calling out to his double for help. However, it had been years since he accepted that no one would ever come to his rescue.

Even though at that moment it seemed to him to be nothing more than a fragile, useless piece of wood, to give himself courage, he tightened his grip on his wand and moved forward.

oOoOoOo

Why not destroy the Horcruxes immediately after finding them? That would have avoided all this. Harry asked after Dumbledore had told him in more detail what had happened earlier in his office to break the heavy silence filled with suspicions that had settled between them while he was searching the area of the Forbidden Forest outside the limits of the Marauder's Map where the traces of dark-Harry had led them.

Because even if everyone seems to make great efforts to ignore it, I am getting older. Finding them and neutralizing their protection exhausted me. Not to mention the thousands of other tasks that fall to me and that I cannot postpone if I want this country to survive another day. I thought it was safer to rest before undertaking their destruction. I have no trouble admitting that it was not my most brilliant decision. But don't worry about them anymore. Before leaving my office, I took the time to take some basilisk fangs to destroy them. Let me know sooner if you noticed a detail that I might have missed and that could help us find it?

Harry thought for a few seconds before answering.

I still have no idea what he's doing. Besides, if I believe the convoluted path he decided to take, he's just as lost as we are. Unless it's your tracking spell that's messing up?

I doubt that he has the magical skills to disrupt my spell. Nevertheless, I would never have believed that he would reach such a level of mastery of his magic at such a young age.

I bet he's the youngest wizard in history to achieve it. Harry declared proudly.

No, there was another one. Dumbledore said somberly.

From your tone, I bet I don't want to know, but who was it?

Voldemort. According to the memories I extracted from the nuns who took care of him, at 8 years old, he used magic to hang the pet rabbit of one of the few children in the orphanage who was not yet afraid of him from a beam.

I knew that I didn't want to know. Since we're confessing things we'd rather ignore, I know where he got that basilisk: in the Chamber of Secrets.

The Chamber of Secrets is a myth.

Did you think about searching the girls' bathroom? Harry replied ironically.

Never the great Salazar…

He was above all a great pervert.

And a great strategist. Thinking back, using good manners to achieve his ends was very much his style. After all, it's the last place I would have looked for the entrance to his secret laboratory and his most dangerous secrets.

What are you talking about?

Have you ever wondered why it was called the Chamber of Secrets? Or why Salazar would have built a place to threaten the school he took so long to build?

No, but I feel that you are dreaming of telling me and we have time. Replied Harry, who smiled as he finally found in this Dumbledore an attitude that reminded him of his own.

In reality, like most myths surrounding Hogwarts, the story of the Chamber of Secrets has been distorted over time to fit the moral or, in our case, political imperatives of the moment. Salazar was a man of his time and it would never have occurred to him to differentiate people according to their race. Or rather, and this is where the misunderstanding arose, the notion of race in the Middle Ages primarily referred to social classes. When Salazar or his contemporaries wrote that he wanted to forbid Hogwarts to those of impure blood, he was thinking of commoners. For this medieval aristocrat, the handling of weapons should be reserved for the nobility, lest their society fall into complete anarchy.

So he created the chamber to chase away commoners? That's not much better.

No, he resigned from his position to protest against the decision of his three friends to open Hogwarts to all wizards without distinction of rank or wealth. But years before, he would have or rather he did, if I believe what you say, create the chamber to conduct his most dangerous experiments, and then he placed a monster there so that only a sufficiently worthy heir could access it. The monster is a guardian and not the instrument of an improbable ethnic cleansing. Then in the 19th century, the industrial, scientific, and political revolutions led to an increase in the number of Muggles and consequently Muggle-borns. Muggle-borns imbued with new ideas that challenged the old hierarchies of the wizarding world, particularly the predominance of its nobility. The reaction was swift, and very quickly hate and rejection speeches spread, which soon materialized into acts of barbaric violence within Hogwarts itself against Muggle-born students.

And at that time, as in ours, to face this kind of tragedy, our society needs more of an explanation than truth. Thus, all sorts of convoluted theories spread in the student society. When the dawn investigation began to point to the responsibility of a group of students from powerful and ancient noble families, the good society started using all its means to spread one of its theories: these murders would have been committed by the monster of the Chamber of Secrets after the victims had offended the memory of the great Salazar.

Practical, myths cannot defend themselves.

You misunderstand me. This explanation was not chosen to shift the blame onto the monster, but onto the victims. It is they who by theirContempt for ancient customs would have caused their end. In any case, from that date, with each wave of violence against Muggle-borns at Hogwarts, purists have taken the habit of accusing a modified version of the myth to better correspond to the imperatives of the moment. Thus, when a century later, Tom targeted the Muggle-borns, no member of the teaching staff, myself included, believed in the existence of the Chamber of Secrets. Throughout all these years, I thought he had used a dark magic unknown to me to bring this myth to life and thus convince the proud pure-bloods of his year to accept as leader the poor orphan with dubious origins that he was then.

What was he hiding in the room? Do you think it's still there?

I doubt it. Tom will have erased the secrets of the chamber after acquiring them. It's a shame, historians specializing in the founders' era are convinced that in addition to the results of his dark magic experiments, Salazar had hidden his best healing spells there. And notably a healing routine so powerful that it could repair the damage caused by dark magic.

I would never have imagined Salazar inventing healing spells.

This should not surprise you. Before the heirs of Salazar tarnished his reputation, he was celebrated for the many healing potions he invented. Moreover, the serpent he made his emblem is an almost universal symbol of medicine. Even today, it can be found on the front of Muggle pharmacies. Parseltongue is not a curse condemning its owner to delve into dark magic, but a blessing that its previous holders used to obtain snake venom essential for concocting many remedies. Besides, have you ever wondered why some wizards can talk to snakes and not to other animals closer to humans like dogs? Many believe that Parseltongue appeared thanks to the close ties our shaman ancestors had with these creatures, in order to obtain useful ingredients. Over generations, thanks to this proximity, some naturally developed this talent and the laws of evolution did the rest.

oOoOoOo

This time Dark-Harry was sure he hadn't been dreaming. He was sure that something was moving in his direction. He threw himself behind a rock and prayed that the approaching thing wouldn't find him. Then an unsettling silence fell over the Forbidden Forest. All of a sudden, the various animal noises that inhabited it stopped. How he wished he still had the invisibility cloak at that moment. What had gotten into him to run away without even trying to retrieve it? Without even worrying about what would become of his double. But what was wrong with him? Petunia was right, he deserved to be all alone.

Then he heard a steady noise coming in his direction. He chased away his insecurities from his thoughts and focused on listening to his surroundings. It was the sound of footsteps moving confidently through the gloomy forest. The footsteps of two people who were talking in low voices as if to better surprise him. Harry shrank back a little more if that was possible, but the footsteps seemed to be coming in his direction. As if they knew where he was. He mentally repeated to himself that it wasn't possible, in order to force himself to stay still despite his instincts, which were hard-earned during the Harry hunts organized by his cousin Dudley and his friend Piers, who ordered him to run for it before being surrounded. But whoever his pursuers were, he doubted they were as...Slow and lacking perseverance like the parody of a human being that served as his family.

Aaaaaahhhhhh! Suddenly shouted Harry, struggling with all his might.

— Well, well. It seems you have found a funny little mouse, my dear. But it's not good to play with food.

— But master, you had promised. And I'm hungry.

— Release Nagini. It's an order. Don't worry, the time for your feast is approaching quickly.

Lord Voldemort, what a pleasure to see you again. Harry replied in a trembling voice as soon as the giant serpent had loosened its grip enough for him to catch his breath.

Oh a pleasure really. May I know then why you did everything to avoid our meeting place? Didn't I give you everything you asked me for? Haven't I sufficiently proven my sincerity?

I did not mean to avoid you, my lord. I just got lost. Things did not go as planned and in the confusion, I lost my way. But I have your wand. As you asked me.

Do not lie to me. Lord Voldemort always knows when he's being lied to. But I am also magnanimous with those who serve me well. Give me the Elder Wand and as promised, I will teach you magic.

Despite his master's orders, Nagini continued to circle around him, casting threatening looks. Harry swallowed and slowly handed the Elder Wand to Voldemort, who seized it eagerly and began to examine it from all angles with a greedy look.

Now, keep your promise and give me a wand. Harry found the courage to ask. He then noticed for the first time the presence of Peter, who was standing back, hand on his wand, casting him anxious glances from time to time. He then took the time to examine the surroundings and it seemed to him that the shadows surrounding the clearing where he was were populated with hooded figures.

Don't worry, you will get the reward you deserve. Voldemort replied, stretching his lips into a smile that gave her goosebumps. But first tell me what has become of my dear Arcanoru. I find it hard to believe that he abandoned you.

He killed Dumbledore. Harry replied immediately to create a diversion.

Harry's words spread like a wave of excitement within the circle of Death Eaters who abandoned all pretense of discretion to exchange whispers of euphoria among themselves. However, Voldemort did not seem sensitive to the prevailing joy:

Really? In that case, why hasn't he joined me? Why do the protections of the castle continue to deny access to me, the heir of the great Salazar Slytherin?

I don't know, sir.

That's unfortunate.

— Can I eat it now?Nagini demands.

A little more patience my dear. He must first return what he stole from me.

I didn't steal anything from you. I'm telling you the truth, I swear. Harry protested.

Really? Why would I believe the word of a perjurer? Didn't you stupidly try to run away? You wanted me to teach you. Here's my first lesson: In broad daylight or in the dead of night, no one escapes my gaze. Endoloris!

Harry then began to scream so loudly that he was afraid his vocal cords would break. He had never been in so much pain in his life. It was as if a white-hot needle had been driven into every millimeter of his skin. Then, as quickly as it had started, the pain stopped. Now completely indifferent to his surroundings, Harry curled up into a ball and began to cry, sobbing. As when he was really upset, between sobs, he called for his mother, his father, and, newly, his double. But his parents were dead because of him, and his double probably hated him now that he knew what he had done. With great effort, he forced himself to calm down and pay attention. The circle of Death Eaters had tightened around him, now forming an impenetrable wall in the center of which Voldemort seemed to be parading while haranguing his troops. Dark-Harry focused on his speech:

Did you really believe that I could have been defeated by this miserable child? I, the greatest dark wizard of all time. I who have gone further than anyone on the path to immortality. Perhaps you had the audacity to believe that he possessed some exceptional powers. A power even greater than mine.

At his words, the audience began to tremble, but Voldemort ignored them and continued his speech:

I will prove to you today that it is not the case by correcting the mistake I made 8 years ago.

Voldemort then raised his wand and a pentacle drawn on the ground lit up while the Death Eaters around him began to chant. He then turned to Harry with a predatory smile on his face. Then, seeing that Harry was watching him with a terrified look, he declared:

This time, your mother's protection will not save you. Moreover, this is my second lesson, Harry: blood given voluntarily is an ingredient too powerful to be used lightly. Your dear aunt was unaware of this and made the mistake of providing me with a sample of her precious blood in exchange for my promise to leave her family alone. That fool was unaware that your mother's protection was the only thing preventing me from eradicating her cursed family from the face of the earth.

Do not kill me, I beg you. Pleaded Dark-Harry.

Otherwise, what? You have nothing left to offer me. You do possess two valuable things: the Deathly Hallows cloak located in your vault at Gringotts and the horcrux that took refuge in you 8 years ago. However, when you are dead, all your possessions will go to your closest relative, namely, the wife of my loyal Lucius, who will hasten to make amends for her negligence towards the assets I entrusted to her by giving me the cloak. As for the horcrux, every second it remains in your possession is an insult to my greatness. I will therefore transfer it to my loyal Nagini. I fear, alas, that you will not survive the process. What do you want, nothing great is achieved without sacrifices.

Then the chanting stopped and Harry felt a dull pain rising from the depths of himself. It was even worse than the Cruciatus Curse. It was as if his body was splitting in two.

Goodbye Harry Potter. Avada Kedavra.

Before closing his eyes, Harry only had time to see a dark green flash in his direction.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: It's not me who plagiarizes Green-Lantern, but Tom. After all, most Anglo-Saxon children of the 1940s read superhero comics. And given his financial situation, Tom probably didn't have access to other reading material during his summer vacations (comics were originally printed cheaply and were intended for the working class). So it wouldn't be surprising if at least at one time Voldemort was a fan of superhero comics. That would explain where he gets his taste for elaborate staging and monologues.