Summary: Harry has a plan. He made a mistake and now he's going to fix it. No matter what (or who) the sacrifice is.
Rating: R.
Pairing: Harry/Sirius.
Emeth
1998, May 22
3 Lacewing Flies - stewed 21 days.
5 Leaches - fresh.
1 Bicorn Horne - powdered.
7 Panaeolus Cyanescens Hawaiian Mushrooms - air dried
1 handful Fluxweed - picked at full moon.
1 handful of Knotgrass - picked at dark phase of the moon.
2 Boomslangs Skin - shredded.
1 Hair of whom to be resurrected.
7 Mandrake Roots - Mature.
1 Human Sacrifice - fresh.
1 Solution of Sulphur, Mercury, and Salt.
6 Metals of the Planets: Gold, Silver - liquid, Iron - for males, Quicksilver, Tin, Copper - for females, Lead.
He reread his list for what seemed like the hundredth time. 1 human sacrifice - fresh. That was the only ingredient he was still missing.
Harry was no longer the rash boy who would act first and think later. Getting Sirius killed taught him his lesson. This time his plan was well calculated. He had been working on it for nearly two years now, going through every book in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library and every dark arts book in Grimmauld Place, ordering ingredients from all over the world, studying the incantations, composing the ceremony, and improving his Potions performances, actually paying attention to Snape for a change.
His friends had no idea of course. Nobody knew what he was planning. When he spent the last few months with his head buried in a book with the strange title 'Sefer Hayetzira', reciting bizarre meaningless words - nobody seemed to notice. All the seventh year students were busy revising for their upcoming NEWTS, having their own heads stuck in one book or another. They conveniently assumed Harry was doing the same. Hermione would have noticed if she had not been a nervous wreck frantically memorising every written text she could find, and Ron… he might have noticed if he had not been too busy memorising her breasts. After all, he was a healthy normal seventeen-year-old boy… And he had no dead godfather to worry about.
Harry waited until his Housemates stopped turning in their beds and snores filled the air. He quietly got up, wore his Invisibility Cloak, grabbed his Firebolt and left the castle. Once he was out the big front doors, he got on his broom and took off into the night. The air was cold and the sky dark, the moon only a thin streak of silver, like the Cheshire Cat's smile. He passed the Hogwarts gates with its winged boars statues, and Apparated to Little Whinging.
He flew, unseen, over the houses and the park, watching the streets and places he could never call his home, searching for someone he wished was never a relative. It did not take long before loud vulgar singing and the sounds of breaking glass led him to Dudley and his gang. They were saying their goodbyes, smashing their empty bottles of beer on the pavement, leaving Dudley sitting on a park bench drunk and alone. Just as Harry knew he would be from previews observation. Just as Harry had hoped.
He took a small flask filled with green liquid out of his robes' pocket, something he ordered from a not-so-legal store down Knockturn Ally. The label on the glass read 'The Draught of the Living Death'. He uncorked it, approached his oblivious cousin, and stealthily poured a few drops into the beer bottle Dudley was holding. He waited nervously, biting his nails and peeling the skin around them with his teeth, for Dudley to sip his drink.
After a few stressful minutes, Dudley finally put the bottle to his lips and emptied it all. The next second he was already on the floor, unmoving. Sound asleep. Harry lifted him onto his broom and made sure they were both covered completely by the cloak.
Flying with so much extra weight was not easy, and by the time he reached the forest clearing, where he was planning to have the ceremony in, he was already exhausted. He landed near a small stream, cast a Disillusionment and Unplottable Charms on Dudley, and a protective charm - so he would not be eaten by anything, and hid his sleeping body behind some bushes. Then he Appareted back outside of Hogwarts.
Nobody would know he ever left the castle, just like they had never found out about all the other times that he did. The perfect alibi. He expected the Muggle police would look for the missing Dudley, but unless someone would trip over him accidentally, they would never be able to find him.
That was it. He was really doing it. Three more days and his life would change forever. Things would be right again.
First part of the plan finished.
1998 May 25
Resurrecting the dead was extremely difficult, but not impossible. There were ways. Unfortunately, his situation was a bit more complicated. There were books about awaking the dead; it was even quite simple if you had the body, which Harry had not. Of course, those methods would only get the body alive and not the actual person, or in other words - create a zombie, so Harry was not interested in them anyway. Another ritual could create a body, a ritual Harry had the misfortune of experiencing from up close, using the bones of the father, flesh of the servant, and blood of the enemy… However, you would need the soul for that one. Harry did not have that either.
Therefore, he was left with no choice but to create a whole new kind of ritual. That was why it took him so long. He mixed together everything he could find: transformation potions, 'Skele-Grow', Elemental Magic, Kabbalistic texts, secret herbs, old long forgotten spells… He even found a way to reach Anubis, the God of the Dead. Or as he preferred to be called - Ann. Apparently it was not a coincidence the ancient Egyptians used to draw him wearing a skirt, as he turned up to be a sissyish cross-dressing kind of god. Harry did not argue and tried hard to keep himself from staring at the god's shaved legs.
Ann was the one who informed Harry he would need the human sacrifice. "You see," the god told Harry with a voice too high and queenly for someone with a dog's head, "there must be a balance between the dead and the living. I can not give away a soul without getting another in return."
It was not easy deciding whom to use. Many names went through his head: Draco Malfoy, Snape, Filch, Colin Creevey… But the moment the name Dudley popped up into his mind, his choice was made. Dudley was a fat, ugly, horrible person, who terrorised everyone. Nothing good could ever come out of him. Everyone, except perhaps his parents, would be happy to see him gone. And Harry would be getting Sirius back - a handsome brave man, that everybody loved. A warrior against the dark. By replacing Dudley with him, He was helping making this world a better place, as everyone always expected of him, even if in another way than they meant for him to do so. It was not as if he was a murderer or anything. Really. He was just helping to replace someone bad with someone good. It was a noble deed. And it was not selfish at all, he was not doing it for himself, he was doing it for Sirius. Harry would actually be doing the world a favour … Or at least that was what he kept telling himself.
He waited for everyone to go down to dinner and gathered all his most important possessions. He put them in his school bag that he charmed to be spacious enough, left a goodbye letter where he wrote he needed a vacation and asking not be searched for, wrapped himself with his Invisibility Cloak, and left Hogwarts for good.
It was already after six when he reached the spot in the forest where he hid Dudley. The special Yew wood altars he built were hidden there too. All he needed now was to rearrange them - one pointing to the west and the setting sun where he placed his sleeping cousin, and the other pointing to the east where hopefully Sirius would be soon. He then went to the stream and started collecting mud from the water's edge. He carried it all to the empty altar, more and more until he had enough to curve a figure of a human body, and mixed the mud with the potion he concocted.
This potion took him three months to brew. It was actually a combination: 'Skele-Grow' - to build Sirius bones, Polyjuice with one of Sirius' hairs - to give the right look, Mandrakes - to help awaking him, and a solution of sulphur mercury and salt - it was what the Alchemists believed were the foundations of the soul, life force, and physical body. Harry guessed it would not hurt to add those too.
He worked the potion with the mud, turning it into pliable clay, the dirt getting beneath his fingernail and smudging his face. But he did not have time to care; the new moon would rise in half an hour. He sculptured a vague shape of a man and took a step back to examine his handiwork. He wrinkled his nose - he would never be an artist…
He placed the collection of metals on the altar. Each metal to represent each planet and its powers. First, he took the solid Quicksilver and stuck it inside the right foot of the clay body. In the other foot, he put the tin. He was a little uncomfortable when he needed to place the piece of lead in the base of what would be his godfather's spine, but eventually bit his lip and pushed his hand as far as he could up between the clay legs. The iron belonged to the metabolic process so he inserted it to the navel. He took the small vial with the liquid silver, opened it, and poured it into the two holes for the eyes were. There was only one more piece of metal, the most expensive and important - gold. He placed it where the heart should be and pushed it in.
The dried mushrooms were to bring enlightenment and awareness, to open the mind. Harry attached them to the statue's head.
He needed to write 'EMETH', the word for Truth in Hebrew, on the clay body's forehead, but he did not want Sirius to be marked like that, where everyone could see. He knew what that felt like. So instead, he used his index finger to engrave the word in a more hidden place, the inside of the right thigh.
That was it - his 'Golem' was ready.
He looked at the sky, and waited for the new moon to appear. Once it was out, he knew he had exactly twenty-five minutes of reciting four hundred and sixty two meaningless letter combinations in a language he did not speak. And it had to be in one sitting, at the correct order and with the right pronunciation… How he wished he were Jewish.
Over a year of studying and rehearsing did the trick and he managed it without a single mistake. But it was not over yet - there was still that soul he promised to Ann, a sacrifice to offer.
Harry took a glass flask filled with black fluid out of his robes' pocket, another parchment from that little store in Knockturn Ally, and walked quickly to the other altar where Dudley rested peacefully and unaware. The flask had the label 'Drink Me' on it, which Harry found to be funny because it was mostly made of cyanide… He looked at his watch and then at the sky to see the last rays of sun disappearing over the horizon. It was time. He held his breath and tried not to think about the consequences of this action, tried to ignore the fact that he was actually killing another human being. He emptied the poison down the boy's mouth and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest until it rose no more. Darkness fell upon him. The end of another day. The end of Dudley Dursley.
Now there were nearly eight hours until the sun would rise once more and the final exchange between the souls would be done.
In the meantime, Harry had to get rid of Dudley's corpse - He did not want it to be the first sight Sirius would see when he awoke. It was strange; it did not feel like when he carried Cedric back from the graveyard. Maybe because Harry was more aware of it this time, had more time to think, to feel the coldness of the skin and the stiffening of the body. He seemed to be heavier even than before, as if in spite. So Harry carried him quickly while murmuring some nameless tune to distract his brain and shove away the guilt, and buried him amongst the forest's trees. Digging a hole big enough for such a huge person took most of the night, and by the time he returned to where the altars were he did not have much time to wait.
Harry was counting down the seconds to sunrise. Twilight filled the dark night sky, and then, a few minutes before four AM, the sun emerged.
1998 May 26
A deafening thunder-like roar broke through the peaceful morning silence, making Harry's heart jump to his throat and he nearly chocked on his held breath. White blinding light shot out of the golem's golden heart and Harry was forced to close his eyes against the brightness. Swift winds blew from all directions, filling the air with noise and piercing whistles, and lifting dead leaves from the ground around the clearing, leaving Harry and the altars concealed like in eye of a tornado.
A high-pitched voice called to him through the pandemonium, "The deal is made. One young magic-less soul for another."
Magic-less? "No wait," Harry called back, his eyes still shut against the racket, "Sirius was a wizard!"
"The balance must be kept," Ann's voice answered. "You gave a magic-less adolescent and that is what you will get in return. Those are the rules." In a quieter and less god-like voice, he added, "You should be thankful I was willing to give up one of my loveliest men in exchange for that… thing." Harry might have been doing the world a favour by ridding it of Dudley, but now the underworld was to suffer him and it clearly was not pleased. "Goodbye, my pretty green-eyed boy," the god said and disappeared into the raging chaos.
Suddenly a loud single clicking sound was heard above the uproar, and then everything went still.
A gasp through the silence.
Harry removed his hands from his face and opened his eyes.
There he was, his beloved godfather, laying splayed before him. He looked just a little older than in Snape's Pensieve: long silky black hair, fathomless silver-grey eyes, smooth tanned skin, and so very very naked…
TBC
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