Harry Potter and the Secrets of Hogwarts Chapter 19: Could This Be The End?, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Still don't own, and now there is less to own. This chapter and some in the future may house bits and pieces of ideas from an anime entitled Fullmetal Alchemist. Sick ass show, and thus, something I felt the need to go into a bit. Great scientific idea, and still with that taste of magic.

Harry had been taken to the hospital wing, where he laid unconscious for about 5 minutes before suddenly he shot up, gasping for air. He was in a tub of sorts, as water pooled around him. He heard voices from the walls around him, and he closed his eyes and focused on them.

"…magic couldn't…clean blood…it was as if it was…" And Harry looked down at himself, to find himself submerged in a diluted red liquid, and then all of the memories of what had happened returned to him, and he sighed, running his hands through his hair before he felt more blood in his hair, and he laid back, effectively trying to scrape the liquid from him.

"I don't know what it is Albus. Analysis on the blood show that it is his, among others."

"Such as…"

Here there was a long pause, and Albus looked at the old nurse as she sighed. "We have records of blood of even you yourself sir. Of James Potter, Of even Godric Gryffindor himself. Whatever happened in that bathroom, it was not of young Potter's choice, and not of his power. However this happened, all we hope is that this had nothing to do with…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. For if he has power such as this…"

Here Dumbledore was silent, before he nodded and turned to head for the door. "When he awakens, please send him into my office." And with that, Dumbledore was gone. Pomfrey looked after him, and saw the look in his eyes as he had said that, and she sighed before looking to the door that Harry was behind in a tub, soaking off the blood, the only way that it seemed to want to come off.

Harry walked into Dumbledore's office, his mental guards up, as something in the way Madam Pomfrey had told him that Dumbledore wanted to see him had told him that something was wrong. She had come to get him while he had been laying in the cold water of the tub, trying to clear his head. He had this memory, and this nagging feeling of something coming. This feeling that something big was drawing near and, once again, it would all fall on him. And with the way the bridges he had built were igniting, and the way he had finally found happiness for his life, he knew that it was completely up to par with the way his life was going.

His only issue was the Headmaster. The man had steadily seemed more and more eccentric, more…strange if it was possible. There had been times Harry was sure something was influencing him, and other times that Harry was sure that there was something under the surface that Dumbledore was hiding, that was sure to make someone's life harder.

And Harry was willing to bet it would be his.

And as he stood before the gargoyle, he contemplated what he could do, what he could say once he got to the office. Saying the password, he climbed the stairs to see Dumbledore fire-talking to someone, but as soon as he made note of Harry's presence, the connection died abruptly. "Harry, my good boy…"

"Get on with it old man. What do you want from me? I have to head back to my dorm and get some kind of rest after this morning."

"That is actually part of it." Harry stared at him, wondering what was happening. The look in the old man's eyes told him that something was gearing up to leave the Headmaster's mouth that Harry would not like. "You see Harry, I am going to need you to attend classes today." Harry's mouth flew open, just gaping at the man before him. "I understand what you have gone through in the last few house, but…"

"No! I don't think you fully understand."

"Now look here Mr. Potter! I have allowed you a lot of room to grow, to wiggle around between the walls of the rules that others are otherwise bound by. But you will recognize that you are not in charge. And you must recognize you place in this world."

Harry's eyes narrowed, dark energy flashing in them. "And where exactly, Headmaster, is that place?"

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback by this comment, with the undertone of danger in Harry's voice, instead he made to skip that train of thought and move on to another one. "You will especially have to attend Defense Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon.

"You will have to be the support block for your year, and it is important that you and the teacher get on a very good working relationship, for the sake of everyone. However, you will not be in that class as a student. You will be taking the NEWTs class with the 7th years, as your Spectacular grade has qualified you for advanced tutelage, thus after classes, extended lessons will be mandatory to prep you for your NEWTs at the end of the year."

Harry had spaced out, allowing his mind to draw in all of the information, but not really paying attention. The Headmaster had had a maniacal glint in his eyes as Harry had submitted, not by fear, but by boredom. Something was disturbing him, and pushing out with the Anti-Light, Harry felt some kind of pain as he neared the Headmaster. Like, the man's magic was able to push back on Harry somehow. Once he was done, Harry rolled his eyes and stood, leaving the room. The room had begun to suffocate him, and it was really bothering Harry, being in there. So, heading down to the hall, he saw that lunch was coming in about 45 minutes, so he took a seat.

However, within 5 minutes of sitting there, he no longer wanted to be there anymore. Something about being in the hall while it was empty seemed to send a kind of…sense of foreboding into Harry. He felt alone, and he felt some kind of guilt in him. And standing up, he headed into the Room of Requirement, thankful for the walk there, as he passed classrooms with the doors open, allowing him to see that other people were alive and there, and that he was not, in fact, alone.

Arriving at the room, Harry filled the room with equipment, anything that would occupy his time. He lifted up a barbell, something he had seen in J-Roc's room, and began doing curls with it. He had a lot of anger, a lot of energy built up, and he needed to get it out in a way that would not hurt anyone else.

He went from curling to finding that all that inaction did was cause him to dwell on the words he was told, and how his life wasn't even in his own control. So, with a deep growl, he dropped the bar down on the ground in frustration, and watched as it hit the ground below him and shattered. He had required that. He had needed to see destruction, some proof that life was real. Thinking of needing some kind of dummy or something to beat the hell out of, a figure appeared before him. It was shaped like a person, and was made out of hard canvas with hard material on the inside. And looking to it, Harry proceeded to just hit it. Hit it again and again with memories flashing before his eyes, of times in his life when he felt helpless. When he was the scrawny little kid who would get beat up by Dudley.

When he was all alone in the cabinet.

When Vernon would degrade him and his parents in front of everyone they knew, and Harry couldn't say anything because he feared his uncle's reaction.

That morning when he had been so trapped and unable to do anything about it.

Soon Harry looked at the dummy to find the canvas was worn away in certain places, the interior spilling out on the floor near Harry's feet. He looked at his hands, to see the knuckles worn and his hands bleeding in certain areas. And as he looked at it, watched the blood slowly leave his hands, he sighed. It was almost like the old religions he had heard of in Primary about bleeding away the bad blood. That was how he saw it, his past pains leaving with the help of new pain.

Sighing again, Harry left the room, heading down to lunch, sure he was late. He forgot completely about wrapping his hands up or anything, as he headed down to be able to let his friends know of the developments, and to let Heather know he was alright. However, as he arrived at the table, he regretted not doing something to his hands. Because as he sat down at the table, Heather seeing him and letting out a breath, he reached over to grab tray nearest him for someone further down. And this put his hands on full display for Hermione, who was across from him. She gasped and grabbed his right hand, looking at the bruised and still slightly blood knuckles, before looking to him in question.

Not wanting to deal with a psyche analysis from his friend, he simply stated, "I had to beat on the door to get out, and I guess this is what happened before I was able to get out." He shrugged before starting to eat. As he did, Dumbledore stood from the Head table, causing everyone but Harry to glance up in interest at him. "Students, I have an announcement."

Harry sighed and muttered around his food, "Well no shit." Which caused Ron to choke on his food slightly before he began laughing, Heather to chuckle with a smirk on her face and Hermione to glare at him. Or more, attempt to, as she had had her own little giggle with the comment. Dumbledore allowed them a second to calm down, looking at Harry in interest. Harry raised his hand, intent on flipping the old man off, as the questioning look was bringing back feelings of deception in Harry, but Heather grabbed it in time and held it, both she and Hermione giving him a look that clearly told him that they would be having that conversation later.

"Well, it is time that I make known one of the many surprises for this year. It has been brought up that Talents have not been taught at this school in many years. In this…war-like…atmosphere, it has arisen that knowing your abilities can be very important.

"Now, a Talent is not as it sounds. It is something you are born able to do, and there is little that can be done about it after the fact. It is more an ability branded to your magic, and in a way, it shapes what kind of magic you are able to do and what you excel in. As…a metamorphagus, something that will not be taught indiscriminately as with the other Talents this year, would have little problem, magically, with Transfiguration. In theory. Now, these classes are going to be structured in such a way that they will all happen on one day. That day will be cleared on your schedules, so that all will be able to explore their Talents without having to give up their own time to develop.

"More information will be made available in the common rooms, and that is all, thank you." Some people applauded lightly before turning to their friends to discuss possible Talents and such. Purebloods looking the most blown away by this revelation. Ron looked flabbergasted, and when asked why, he looked confused for a moment.

"Talents where last taught at Hogwarts during the Great Goblin War. You see, they are usually taught in war atmospheres, as Talents are almost all undetectable by the ministry, so they are only taught when the need for them outweighs the risk of them being abused. And if they are being taught now…that means that…"

"This war is getting very bad." Hermione finished, deducing the truth. Harry nodded before remembering that he had Defense Against the Dark Arts class that day after lunch, and he had to still retrieve his things from his dorm. So, standing up, he headed toward the dorms. Heather made to follow him, but Hermione shook her head and ran after him.

She caught up to him in the hallway and grabbed his arm lightly, letting him, know she was there. He smiled at her slightly before continuing his walk at a lighter pace, allowing her to keep up. Once they got his things and were heading back from the room toward the Defense class, Hermione spoke.

"Harry…" here she sighed, "What is happening? I really don't understand what is going on in this world of ours. What is happening to us all?" and with another sigh, Harry turned to look a his friend to see a look on her face that unnerved him. Confusion. Loss. Pain.

"I do not know, Hermione. I have no idea. And that is something, considering I am the fucking weapon that is meant to end this war. I guess if they don't even consider me important enough to know what is happening, then that just proves my use. A weapon, nothing else."

Hermione looked mortified. "Don't say that!"

"But its true, Hermione!" And Harry finally felt the weight of the world fall down on him, finally felt all of the pain. And he had to fight back the tears. "Its…its so true. And I can't do it, Hermione! I am only 16, I can't stand this, I can't do it…Not when everyone around me is getting hurt."

And Hermione stood there, watching her best friend, the person she had seen stand firm and tall through everything, finally let his body a rest to show weakness. And it touched her to no end to be the one he did this in front of.

"I only have a few people anymore, Hermione, only a few people I trust and care about anymore, and I hate admitting that, since Cedric and…and Sirius, I have closed myself off. And…I don't want that. Because I don't want to admit this is hurting me. It is changing me. I…I am not the same person anymore. And…that will make…its going to change everything."

Hermione watched as his legs almost gave, and he sunk down to the ground of his own accord, at least before he was sent there by his shaking knees. His hair was surrounding his face, but from behind his hair, she could make out his eyes, bloodshot and unfocused. "Harry, no matter how much you change, the true friends will be there for you. Will care about you, love you. Hell, I can't speak for everyone, but I know that if you ran off to join Voldemort tomorrow, got your own little "Dark Mark" and started a reign of your own, I would be the first in line to take that mark, no matter where or how painful. And I would follow you into the pits of Hell. And I would use every spell I have ever read up on to do anything you ever ask me to."

Harry looked up to Hermione, who was kneeling across from him, her own eyes bloodshot, and tears gradually making their way along her cheeks. Her eyes were watching his, and from behind his hair, he looked to his friend. And he knew he would go to the ends of the earth for her as well, and knew that she was a true friend. He smiled weakly and hugged her. "I don't know what I would do without you Hermione." And he made to stand up. He pulled her up with him and then sighed loudly. "I don't know about all of this, but I know one thing. There is a lot of stuff happening, and I can only hope that all the people I care about who aren't here right now can be safe."

And hand in hand, supporting each other as they entered, the two entered the Defense classroom early, finding themselves the only ones there. That is, outside of who they figured was the Defense teacher, as well as the Headmaster. He was talking to the woman, so her back was to the entering students. She had very long black hair, and was wearing black robes, as was the norm. She seemed to be shaking slightly as Dumbledore spoke to her. Harry's ears perked as he heard his name being spoken several times in the conversation, until he cleared his throat, causing the Headmaster to recognize them. He smiled weakly before speaking. "Harry, I would like to introduce you, as well as Ms. Granger, to your Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher for the year." And with that, the woman turned around. And in just that moment, Hell came to Hogwarts.

"You…" Harry muttered, before his emotions hit him to hard, that his mind blanked, and he stumbled back, back against the door, and he slumped down to be seated on the floor. There before him, in all her glory, was…

"Miss. Bellatrix Black. Please welcome her."

The class began with Dumbledore seated off to the corner near the door from the study connected to the classroom. It only took Harry moments to see that the man intended to make a "Grand Introduction" for the new teacher, as well as to head off any attacks that may come her way. And Harry had a feeling by the way the woman had rushed to his side, attempting to calm him with little bits of sentences between attempted petting and tears, that this class was going to be very hard for him. So, taking that into consideration, he did something he never did. He positioned himself in the very back of the classroom, in the back corner where the shadows of the midday sun cast by the light through the window seemed to blank him out from existence. And he settled in, ignoring the eyes of everyone on him, wishing to sink into the very castle, to disappear.

It was not to be.

And as class started, Harry watched as a spectator as the door opened and Bellatrix walked out, and he watched as Neville seemed to fall into a convulsive seizure, Ron jumped up with his wand out only to be stunned by the Headmaster, and several of the Pureblooded Slytherins looked as if they were in the presence of a deity.

And after a moment of calming, she spoke. "My name is Bellatrix Black, formerly Bellatrix Lestrange." Here the class gasped. "And I was raised by a pureblooded family that was very much against all things not solely magical. And this was how I was raised. And I regret to state that, hindsight is indeed, perfectly clear on later inspection. Because I see how those beliefs stayed with me, and how those beliefs influenced the rest of my life.

"When I was 16, I was engaged to a man, a very dark and horrible man. He was a confirmed Death Eater, but by then, my mind was so tainted that I didn't care. I hated muggles, sure, but had no wish to even be close enough to kill them to do so, and had no want to join the Death Eaters.

"On hearing this, that…monster of a man…he used the Imperius on me, renewed each time a new order was given, until they were layered on so deep that they were engrained into my very being. And for years I served the Dark Lord, reasoning lost on me as all I did was obey orders, obey what I thought was right, obey what I thought he wanted me to do. And even when he wasn't around, the spell had warped my personality. And acts were performed that I am forever ashamed of and plagued with every night."

Here she had the intelligence to at least look down, ashamed, saddened at the very least. Because had she not, Harry himself would have attacked her, watching Neville curl into himself even in his seat somehow, and slight shaking racking his shoulders. And as he looked up to Bellatrix, he saw the tears trailing down her face, he sighed despite himself. Something about her had changed, regardless of how much he wanted to deny it. "And soon, I was forcibly pulled from the multiple layers of the spell by a jolt of reality. I watched as my cousin, Sirius, was stunned by my own hand as I battled him as he attempted to take down the Dark Lord and myself, and he fell to his death. And soon the world was all too real again, no more blissful lack or reality, just the stone cold truth.

"So I came here, looking for sanctuary, looking for someone to keep me safe. And Dumbledore agreed to help me. After checking my thoughts somehow, he helped me to rid myself of some of the pain, and some of the spell damage that he could." Here she shook hr head a bit, as if to clear it before wiping her face and looking out to the classroom with determination on her face.

"I guess I am telling you all this so you know that am here. I know my stuff, considering all occurrences, and never again will I attempt to harm anyone, especially anyone in this classroom." And all around, the class nodded. Some nodded as if they had just had their world turned on its ear, while many of the same Slytherins that regarded her as a god looked as if their hero had just been unmasked for the fool that she really was. But still, there was a certain level of respect there.

"Now, onto the class. I am going to need a volunteer." No one seemed in a rush to volunteer, but when the offering of house points came, and the sheer number of them caused every hand to shoot up. Every one but Harry's and Neville's. And that was why what happened next seemed to justify Harry's guess that the class would suck for him. "How about…Mister Potter." And it wasn't a question or a suggestion.

Standing and walking to the front, Harry finally came face to face with Bellatrix. And she offered a weak smile before speaking to the class, never turning from him. "Now, a big issue since the start of term has been what is being called the 'Unspoken War', and that is what I intend to address to each of you. There is more to darkness, than what is defined as Dark Magic. And here, I will show you all." Harry tensed but turned to Bellatrix. "Ms. Granger, please come up here as well." Hermione stood and headed up, shaking a bit but looking firm in her resolve to get there and doing whatever she was told. She was positioned between Harry and Bellatrix.

"Do everything in your power to prevent Harry from getting to me." Was her only statement. And then Bellatrix blasted a pale pink curse at Harry.

Harry felt a feeling wash over him, a deep yearning to be near and with Bellatrix. And Hermione stood between him and his goal. So, walking toward her, intending to get to the woman on the other side of his friend, all thoughts vanished as all that mattered to him was getting to the beauty on her other side. And as Hermione raised her wand at him, he waved his wand with one hand, and the girl was blasted to the side of the room, unconscious as she slumped down the wall. And Harry continued his forward progress. Bellatrix waved her wand nonchalantly and made a motion for Harry to continue back to his seat. The motion was meant to end the spell, and by all appearances, it did. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that was drawing him to her even as his feet moved him from her.

Dumbledore had since attended to Hermione, who refused to leave for the hospital wing, and instead took a pain-relief potion she was offered and returned to her seat.

As he left, she spoke again, "and this clearly shows how even simple spells can be used with ill intent. Without contest, Ms. Granger is the closest of Harry's friends in this room?" and everyone looked to Ron, checking for him to raise a complaint. But as they did this, they saw that he was seated near the middle of the room, while Harry and Hermione were seated in the back together, and Hermione never sat in the back. And with a nod of his head, everyone followed suit, as it was acknowledged as a fact. "And yet I, someone that is not on such close terms with him, was able to cause him to harm her with a simple spell." The class nodded, but Hermione looked to Harry.

Both had noticed it. Despite the fact that Bellatrix was addressing everyone so far by their surnames, she seemed to be having made a point to call him by his first name since the demonstration. And Harry looked up at her, and a glaze fell across his eyes.

Something is wrong, that spell…its not all the way gone. Something is there.

Yeah Potter, something is up. Caliburn is correct in saying that she is pulling at you somehow. Necros replied, but then spoke with a laugh, Not that I care, because I would so do her.

Harry rolled his eyes and then looked up to see Bellatrix going on about something or another about how a banishing charm and such could be used to kill someone, and how to combat it. But the combating it part seemed to come later, almost as an afterthought. Harry had a suspicion about her intentions, and it was confirmed when Dumbledore left, and she turned to the class after he left and sighed, sitting back on the desk and unbuttoning her robes to reveal moderate, albeit fairly tight, clothes underneath in understated colors.

"Look, they gave me this job figuring I could help you all somehow in learning how to defend against dark arts. But the truth is, that I wasn't a defender, I was an enforcer. I did the dark arts. And learning to do something by association is in no way a given."

"So what good is being in this class?" Hermione blurted before realizing she was saying a rude thing to a supposed ex-Death Eater with no one around to protect her really.

But the older woman chuckled despite it. "Simple. I was informed of a class or more…a club…called the D.A. lead by Harry last year. Well, I figure that, considering we have the legend himself here, we can make this something of a joint training area. We are at war, and thus, we are going to have to do more than sit on our asses and put up Protegos all fucking day." Hermione's jaw dropped, as did many in the class. But Harry's liking for the woman just jumped from a notch above Voldemort to a notch above Dumbledore. And at the time, that wasn't a huge jump, but it was enough to make him to want to kill her most of the time.

…Or was that the spell talking? He found himself wondering. Either way, he smiled, but was once again called up to the front of the classroom. He groaned and stood, walking to the front once more. He was forced to give a recount of what happened in the D.A., and then the students who had been in it and had opted for Advanced Defense that year, which was surprisingly fewer than he would have thought, were acknowledged. And then the class began, learning, or going over, basic attacking spells.

As the spells were practiced, Harry entered "Teaching Mode" and began going around the room, looking on and making adjustments and such. Sometimes, he would look and see Bellatrix watching him as she walked around as well. She would look away, and he would go back to what he was doing. Suddenly the air around him bent and he could feel magic rocketing toward him. He had been near the door of the room, and the spell was coming at his side, meaning he could only dive forward to get away, and a student was in the way. His wand was up, but midway through the spell work for another, and no way to cast another spell in time, such as a shield.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He freaked out.

And suddenly a stone from the very castle shot out from the wall and intercepted the spell. And then the stone dropped to the ground, sizzling slightly, before it seemed to spring back into the air and fly back to its positioning in the wall. Bellatrix looked shocked, but smiled nonetheless. Harry would have probably cursed her or yelled or something, had he not been staring at the stone himself.

He had not done that.

And then he heard it. The Voice. "Do you see what magic does? It taints, it destroys. It attacks. It causes pain, and it hurts oh so many people. It can be taken away. Its not that hard. Just give me the word.

Harry looked stunned and then looked as Bellatrix dismissed the class, and then called for him to come over to her. He did so in a daze, still in shock. But as he got closer to him, he could sense everything. The honey smell she emitted, and the violet of her eyes. The way her dark hair seemed to be some unnatural color somehow, black but tinged with a color he had never had the pleasure of seeing until then. The way the clothing under her robes clung to her…

And it was then that Necros grabbed ahold of his personality, and gave a strong mental shake. As much as he found Bellatrix incredibly attractive, and as much as he longed to be clichéd and sweep everything from the desk she was reclined on and take her there, he was still, above all, rational. And he knew for a fact that somehow the thoughts weren't his own.

Reaching out, he brushed his knuckles along her jaw line slowly, and then grabbed her chin. He held it, and made her look to him, and then he leaned in, so close that their noses almost touched, and her face was tickled lightly by his hair. He stuck his tongue out and licked her top lip, but as she moved to get closer to him, he pulled back.

And with a deep stare, he shook his head. She stared at him, somehow sensing the energy coming from him, how it seemed to make her so cold it burned and so hot she was numb all at the same time. And with a deep shake, she tried to avoid his eyes. But she could not.

"Its not nice to fuck around with other people's heads, Bella. Not nice at all. Next time, I might have to punish you, a spanking maybe." And with a smirk on his face, Necros/Harry turned and headed to the door. But he stopped before he got from the door. "Besides, if you wanted me that badly, you should have asked. Never know, depending on how you are, I could pull Heather into this somehow, and it could be fun for us all." And with a slamming open of the door, he was gone down the hall.

Harry found out that Padma had, in fact, gotten herself liberated from Remedial Transfiguration and moved to Moderate, which meant that she had a free period that day at the same time as his free period after Defense. He met with her and they sat down at the Ravenclaw table, talking over random things. However, Padma pulled out a stack of parchments, and Harry looked to her in confusion. They had been talking for a good 20 minutes, when her eyes lit up at his mention of the D.A., and not he was wondering what was happening.

"Harry, I found some things out. Things that I think you need to know." And she looked at him with a big smile on her face. "I was going through the Ravenclaw library, when I came on a book. Cho tried to take it from me, but I got through a good half of it before she grabbed it." Harry scowled at the sneakiness of the girl he had once cared for, but motioned for Padma to continue. "Now, Luna could make better heads and tails of this than I could, but basically, here it states in this really complicated Arithmancy, that the Avada Kedavra curse is nothing more than pure magic. In this theorem, magic in its truest form, is destructive. Nothing more, and nothing less. It is destruction.

"And this is the purest way to allow magic out. It almost seems as if, by doing this, the person allows the magic no restrictions. Which is why it is so hard to stay alive after being hit by it."

"Restrictions?"

"Yes. You see, the book stated that the structure of magic is destruction. Every spell destroys a little of something to produce the desired results. Now, with say…Wingardium Leviosa, the spell's destructive property is aimed toward severing the tie gravity has on the object in question. Now, this is causing the power the spell would have to be aimed only at one point, therefore creating a bottleneck effect, making the power ease out gradually and not in one big burst, which is why it is a sustained spell. With the Killing Curse, however, the magic just fires out, pure and uncontained."

Harry looked at Padma, as she continued to detail what Magic was and how, in fact, the Killing Curse could not be blocked by magical means. Now, this left Harry with a dilemma to think over, as his plans seemed to be falling apart at the seems. However, Padma uttered the words he had been hoping for since the conversation began. "But…" And his ears perked as he moved from looking over the stack of parchment.

"However, the magic issue is one that we needn't worry about. Because the magic that I speak of is, in fact, only one type of magic. The magic we use, is only one type of magic. And the secret to stopping the Killing Curse…is going to have to be finding more out about them.

"And I will be damned if I am not the one there when you figure this out. Because I have this very awkward feeling that…you will be forced to figure this out long before the rest of us."

Alchemy. The closest thing to fusing magic and science ever thought up, is a simple belief. Human Kind can not achieve without first giving something up. The ingredients must equal the result. And this is Alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. The most basic rule in Alchemy.

It is a long standing belief that, should someone give up enough, they could, in turn, gain anything they could think of. And that was mainly the reason Alchemy lapsed into a dark science, never to be put in reasonable Wizarding institutions. Because Wizards are lazy. And why give something up in exchange for the result, when they can wave a stick around with enough destructive energy in it to kill half the world, and get whatever they want? Why give up to gain, when you can just blast what you want into your own hands?

But at the same time, Alchemy is a science much stronger than magic could ever be. Because in truth, the wands Wizards value oh-so-very-much are just that, products of Alchemy. Because it is impossible to create something with such destructive force…

…without giving something up first.

And Harry sat on his bed, staring at his wand in his hand. Something so powerfully fickle linked him to Voldemort on yet another plane. And as long as he had this, he would be unable to defeat Voldemort, to even touch him. And he knew that Dumbledore would not let him get a new wand, because the manipulative man needed Harry to be the shield to hold Voldemort's attention, to draw the fire, so that the world could be safe, if for those few moments.

And he would not be anyone's cannon fodder.

And he decided that it was time he did something, so he went into the Restricted Section and found every book on Alchemy he could. And every spare moment he had between classes, he was reading. And writing down. Because as much as Alchemy was magic,

It was science.

And begrudgingly, Harry asked to be placed in Remedial Ancient Runes. And he obtained the book and read it cover to cover as if his life depended on it. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized,

It did.

By the time that Heather began wondering if something was wrong, and Hermione knew something wasn't right, it seemed to be too late. They both ran up to his room to find him standing there, the furniture cleared out, and a huge circle in the center of his room.

There were various designs within it, and it had an unearthly glow about it. Piled in the middle of the circle and all its designs seemed to be a piles of chairs and other metals. And then, in a white ceramic bowl in the very middle, was a deep substance.

And as Harry sank to his knees, his overly pale form looking weaker than before, the drop in weight caused the bowl to rock just so. Just enough so that the moonlight glinted through the window and off of the bowl. And revealed that the liquid was, in fact, not black.

It was a deep red.

Blood.

And with his hands glowing in the Anti-Light, the very air visibly warping around his body, he clasped his hands together in prayer-like fashion, closed his eyes, muttered something and then slammed his hands down on the side of the circle. And with a rush of force much akin to water, the energy seemed to flow in a wave around the circle and flare up to the ceiling of the room. And a duplicate of the circle appeared on the very roof of the room. And when the energy died down, Harry slumped to lay on his back, his eyes opened but staring vacantly forward, glazed over.

And in the center of the circle laid a single object. It was about 13 inches long, thin and darker than the very night sky. The tip was a blood red, and it pulsed energy.

Harry Potter had just created a wand. And it was unlike anything anyone would ever see again. Because it was made by a power never before used with magic. And the castle shook in recognition, and seemed to come alive all over again.

Much like a kingdom, rejoicing in the return of its King.

Harry sat up moments later, his eyes still a bit eerily reflective, but focused enough to allow him to stand and regain his balance. He walked over to the center of the circle and lifted the wand, and carried it over to a plain box. He placed it inside, before locking it shut. He walked over to a small, loose stone in the wall and removed it, before placing the box inside where the stone had been, and then he cast a charm with his first wand to hide the box and make it look like a normal stone.

Then, climbing into his bed, which was along the wall, he sank to a deep sleep.

But it did not last. Dumbledore entered later, followed by what seemed to be the entire Order. They all looked at him and began shouting questions at him all at once. And they all sat there, watching as he attempting to ignore them. And all night, they watched him. Many times, Heather and Hermione asked them to leave, as he was not sleeping fitfully, as every time he would drift off, Molly Weasley would say something or attempt to mother him or someone else in the order would say something, and he would end up awake again.

But still they stayed. And the desired result arose, as Harry eventually arose, narrowed his eyes at them, and grabbed his pillow before turning and walking away from his own room, out to the couch in the Head Common, and placed a reverse silencing spell around him, and then he curled up and fell asleep, with one last glare at the still watching Order.

Harry was mad. In fact, he was so angry that the windows and mirrors all around him were exploding, and the shards would shatter and eventually it was all some kind of powder before it hit the ground. He was angry, and he hadn't a single reason in truth. It just felt…right to be mad. And as he thought about it, he had more reason to be mad than anyone. But again, the voice came to him, telling him the same thing again and again. Shaking his head, he stepped from the Room of Requirement to head down to Dinner. As he entered, he saw Hedwig doing laps around the ceiling of the hall. Upon him entering, she swooped down to him with a copy of the Daily Prophet. It seemed to be thin, and had bright red ribbon wrapping it closed, meaning it was apparently urgent.

Attack on England: Town of Surrey Raided!

It would appear that Death Eaters have been making a clear and straight path through England, and their latest stop has been the town of Surrey. The attack heralded few casualties, as the Aurors seemed to have reacted to the attack faster than anywhere else, almost as if on guard for that location already.

Sources tell us that they had found the pattern some time before, and had stationed their beforehand, and some Death Eaters were apprehended, but were assured to be lower-ranking members of little use to authorities.

And the paper slipped from his fingers, and he sank down to the ground, and just sat there, no tears or anything, just solemn silence. And he was quiet for some time, staring forward.

And putting his head back, and staring at the ceiling in complete weakness, he muttered two words. "I'm Ready." And with a shaking of the castle, and a warping of the world around him, he lost all consciousness.

Harry…

…Harry…

"Harry!" And Harry's eyes sprang open to meet the eyes of Heather. He looked up at her, and reached up to rub his eyes. He scooted back so he was propped up against the headboard of the bed he was apparently in. He looked down, expecting to see the crisp white sheets of the hospital wing, but instead he was surrounded by a cool deep blue bedspread. Heather smiled at him before moving off of him to sit next to him. She brushed her hand through his hair before speaking. "Its time that you get your lazy ass up. We have a lot to do today, and with you laying around, I really doubt anything will get accomplished." Sighing, Harry rolled out of bed, wondering where he was exactly.

"And what, exactly, do we have to do today?"

"You have band practice with J, then you have to meet Kirstin later at the mall because she said something about wanting to piss off an old boyfriend by rubbing you in his face…umm…then we have dinner with the parents tonight before its back here. It's a good thing for us that the school got shut down for the week because that ass of an ex of mine had to go and light the bathrooms on fire because he was smoking."

Harry cocked an eyebrow before standing up and looking around his room. He spotted a towel next to some clothes set out already. He grabbed them before heading out of the room, and after looking around for a while, he somehow knew where the bathroom was exactly, even though he was somewhere he had never been before.

Entering, he turned on the warm water and began to take a shower. After a while, he got out and dried off before catching his reflection in the mirror. His long black hair was hanging over his shoulders, and his bright green eyes were looking back at him. But one thing that caused Harry's eyes to bug was what he saw as he brushed his hair back with his hand. The infamous scar…

…was missing.

And as he walked out of the bathroom after he dressed, intent on finding out what was going on, he saw something that was even more frightening than his lack of his scar.

You see, as he headed down the stairs after finding that Heather was not in his room any longer, he heard talking. And as he entered the kitchen, laughter filled his ears. But it was soon a triviality, as, sitting there, laughing with his girlfriend was…

"Mum?"

A/N: And with the tears in my eyes, we must say goodbye. Unless I get people asking for me to continue, this will be the end of SoH. My other project, FFOmega is taking over pretty much all of my writing, and will be my key project, even if I have to make it AU or alter it to fit the whole Half Blood Prince shyte. But, thus, this could be then end. Even as I leave you all of this cliffhanger, there is nothing left to say but thank you to you all.

By the way, the name of my group is Demonic Reign, and it is:

http:groups. /group/ DemonicReign/ (minus the spaces) and I hope that you all will visit.
Let me know about the future of the fic and all.
Thanks so much, again,
(A Very Depressed and Sad,)