Chapter 6.

Chapter 6

The Nightmare Man

Summary: In the depths of the Ministry, there is a cell for the world's most dangerous man… and he wants out.

Pairing/s: None.

Warnings: Time travel, OOC-characters, Light!bashing, Twisted!Harry, Evil!Harry, violence, mention of gore. Yeah, stuff like that.

Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this.

-o-

Edited 2020

-o-

Chapter Six

Harrison did notice the wards before Elise pointed them out, but he wouldn't call them shoddy. Elise however, wrinkled her nose in disgust and said:

"I've already made it so we can enter."

"Before you came back home?" he said and she nodded.

"Shoddy," she added.

"Not really," he replied.

"What? They are no challenge."

"That's because you are you," Harrison replied.

"What's that supposed to mean, master?"

"It means when you see some wards, you just have to break in," Harrison stated.

Elise shrugged. Harrison waved his hand at her, and entered the wards. The air shimmered, and only then did he see Voldemort's manor.

"Shoddy wards, my arse," he muttered.

They were good wards, only not as good as Elise's skills in taking wards down. He began to walk towards it, Elise and Lucian behind him. He had no weapons on him, only a black robe that Lucian had managed to scrounge up. Most of his clothes were beyond saving, so he just had to go and get more after this.

Or get Elise to do it. Harrison had never liked shopping very much.

As for not carrying any weapons, or a wand for that matter, was because Harrison didn't need either one of them. If he wanted a sword, he could just conjure one up. As for his wand, he didn't dislike it, but he had no great use for it nowadays. It was just annoying having one when he didn't have to use it.

Stepping up to the doors of the manor, Harrison stopped once more. Beyond the doors, if the man was home, awaited a Dark Lord. Well, Harrison was a Dark Lord too. Perhaps one of the first ones. But it was a Dark Lord he hadn't had a very good relationship with. Voldemort had in Harrison's childhood tried to kill him. Something had obviously changed with this time, with James being alive, so it was highly possibly this Voldemort never disappeared on that Halloween night. Or this was not the universe he was born in.

No, no, no, stop thinking about that. It was too complicated for his simple, reckless mind.

He turned to Elise and Lucian again.

"Should I knock?" he said. "I've heard it's polite."

"Since when are you polite, master?" Lucian asked.

"… You do have a point there."

So he turned to the doors again, and wondering what he would find inside. Things weren't the same as his past, and he didn't know the future anymore. But that was fun. Had he known the answers beforehand, it would make for a very boring future indeed.

With a grin, he raised his leg and kicked the doors open with enough force to break the wood.

-o-

Voldemort heard the doors break before he got the signal that there was someone was inside of the wards. Someone had passed the wards without the Dark Lord noticing it, but chose to kick the doors open? Were they an idiot?

Either way, someone was in his home. Voldemort moved silently and swiftly down to the front hall, wand ready.

He expected a group. Order members perhaps, even Albus Dumbledore himself. He expected a fight in the house he had chosen to keep more hidden than any of his other houses.

Instead, he saw three people. Two men and a woman. The man furthest into the hall seemed like a leader over the other two, and when spotting Voldemort, he smiled. In a not particularly friendly way. More like a predator. A very hungry predator. Voldemort raised his wand.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"Oh, hi!"

"Who are you?" Voldemort said, eyes blazing.

"I was getting to that. I was just going to apologize first for the doors, you know. Proper manners and all that stuffy nonsense."

"Master, you have no proper manner," the woman said.

"Someone with proper manner wouldn't kick in someone's doors," the man said.

"Elise, Lucian… shut up."

"Who are you?" Voldemort interrupted. He didn't like being ignored, especially not by intruders.

"Oh my, what an impatient man you are."

The smile on the man's face was too much and Voldemort fired off a killing curse. The green light hit its target without Elise and Lucian moving. The man fell to the floor, and Voldemort began to move his wand towards Elise when said man coughed and got off the floor.

"Should've expected that," he wheezed.

Voldemort's grip on the wand slackened for a moment. The Avada Kedavra was absolute! You couldn't survive it, and yet this man just had.

"The killing curse doesn't work very well on me," the man said. "You're far from the only one who has tried. Anyway, sorry for breaking through your wards. Or rather, Elise ought to apologize."

"They were shoddy, master," Elise said.

"Don't call a man's wards shoddy in front of him," he replied. "So sorry, she sees a ward, and she just has to break it down. It's a hobby of hers. And I also told her to find you."

"Why?" Voldemort demanded. "Just tell me who you are!"

"You know who I am. You've made Inferi, so that means you've read one of my books at some point."

Inferi. Voldemort remembered that book. A gathering of texts, with a step-to-step on how to create animated corpses. He had found it as a young man, and read it dozens of times over the years. He never knew the writer's true name, only the man's title…

"The Nightmare Lord," Voldemort breathed out. "A legend of old and lost times."

"Oh, I've become a legend? Cornelius didn't tell me that part."

"But you can't be him. He lived a long time ago."

"I'm still alive. I'm old, I suppose."

"How can you be alive?"

"Oh, that's my secret to keep," the Nightmare Lord said, grinning widely.

"If you're truly the lord, why did you disappear?"

"I was in prison for a little bit."

"A few hundred years, master," Elise corrected.

"Elise, shush with you. I hadn't planned on sitting there for very long, I just lost track of time."

"Liar. You never lose track of time, master."

"Alright, alright, so I made a few mistakes," he said. "We all do, don't we? People mocked me for having been caught and I kind of… lost it? I don't like mocking people. I like to mock people, but they don't get to mock me."

"So in short, master," Lucian said, "you killed people that were rude and thus creating such fear in other people that they didn't enter your cell for a very long time?"

"… More or less."

"Master is an idiot."

"Lucian!" the Nightmare Lord said. "I'm not just an idiot. I'm a reckless idiot, who don't think ahead."

"So you are really him," Voldemort said, joining the conversation once more. "The Nightmare Lord?"

"Yes, that's me, in the flesh, rather handsome if I may say so. Would you mind putting your wand down? I'd hate to disarm a fellow lord, you know, but it's kind of distracting."

Voldemort considered it for a while and then lowered it. He didn't put it away though.

"I suppose that's better," the Nightmare Lord said. "Can I sit down?"

"What?"

"I'd like to talk some more, now that we've established I'm a fellow dark lord like you, but I don't feel like standing for that conversation."

Voldemort considered this too, before motioning with his head.

"Living room then," he said.

"Lovely. Lead the way."

Voldemort didn't turn his back on the man, and the Nightmare Lord just kept on smiling. In the living room, Voldemort seated himself against a wall while the lord merely sat down on the closest available surface, which happened to be the couch in the middle of the room. Elise and Lucian moved to stand behind the couch. Neither one looked much like a fighter, but Voldemort knew better than to compare people's strength to their looks. Dumbledore looked like a frail, old man but his magic was still very strong.

"So you learnt how to make Inferi from reading my book," the lord said.

"I had heard of it before that, from various sources, but never the method."

"Let me guess; because it's a foul thing to do."

"Yes," Voldemort replied.

"Did that encourage you even more to make them?" the lord wondered.

"Yes. I was quite happy when I stumbled over the book."

"Well then, I suppose I'm happy I lost track of a few of them, so one eventually found its way in your hands."

Voldemort nodded numbly. It was sinking in, slowly, truly sinking in. Before him sat an ancient man, someone once feared by all of England, and he was talking to Voldemort like it was nothing. For the first time in his life, Voldemort was humbled. He was seen as important enough to the Nightmare Lord that the lord visited him in person.

"By the way," the lord said, "you can call me Harrison. I do like the sound of being called master but that's reserved for those I actually am master over. Like Elise and Lucian."

"You made them?"

"Sort of," Harrison replied. "I captured them and remade them into something more in my taste. They were both hunters once. I was their target but I put an end to such thoughts."

"You've made… companions out of enemies?" Voldemort asked.

"Servants," Harrison corrected. "And yes. Well, if they were nice to look at. I do like shiny and pretty objects. That book of mine, do you happen to have it somewhere nearby?"

"Yes. There was a lot in it that I didn't know how to use, or make…"

"I didn't always make sense when I wrote things down. And I wrote a lot of failures down, if only in an attempt to not make it again…"

"It's in the library."

Voldemort carefully led the way, rather certain that the Nightmare Lord was responsible for the attack in the Ministry. None of his Death Eaters could have done it, even as a group. Even he would have troubles getting inside.

"You are the one that attacked the Ministry, right?" he asked as he stepped into the library.

"I didn't really attack," Harrison replied. "I was just getting out."

"How do you mean? You were trapped inside the Ministry?"

"No, underneath it. They built the Ministry on top of my prison. Bet they regret that decision now, or perhaps curse the people who did it even though it happened centuries ago."

Voldemort searched the bookshelves and soon found the book which he then handed over to Harrison.

"I restored it shortly after I found it," Voldemort admitted. "It was in a rather fragile state."

"Hmm, maybe one of my earlier books then. I did leave a few just lying around. I didn't think someone would actually keep it around, because back in the old days, one did not just create corpses that walked around. People were so boring."

"You liked making corpses move," Elise said.

"Well, I mostly liked the look on people's face when they realized they were fighting their dead aunt or something."

"… Have you done that a lot?" Voldemort asked. "It sounds like you've done that a lot."

"Oh yes I have," Harrison said and sat down in one of the arm chairs in the library. Voldemort followed suit in another one, taking a long look at the man.

Voldemort's own, young features were done with the help of magic but he had no idea what Harrison had done to keep looking so young. Or what he had done to live this long for that matter.

"I did it especially when I knew there were family connections but it's even funnier doing that to Muggles. Our kind does understand what's going on, it's forbidden magic or something equally stupid they call it, but the Muggles… oh, they have noidea what's going on. That tone of horror as they shriek… I just love it."

"The tone bordering on hysterical," Voldemort added, "just below that?"

"Yes, precisely!"

"Music to my ears," he admitted.

"You think so too?" Harrison said. "It's simply marvellous isn't it? Who needs real music when you can listen to sounds like that?"

Voldemort finally relaxed, and they both grinned at each other.

"Dear god," Lucian interjected. "There are two of them."

"Two of what?" Harrison asked.

"Crazy people," Lucian said with a straight face.

Harrison turned and looked at him for a while.

"Well, you do have a point there. I'm certainly not sane. How about you, Voldemort?"

"I've been told numerous times that I'm mad," Voldemort confessed. "People like to shout it at me."

"You too?" Harrison said. "They just loved to do that to me, isn't that just rude? I see manners in people haven't gotten much better since my days."

"Master, you like to kill people. It's rather unlikely that people will ever show you any manner or courtesy every."

"Lucian dear, I know I made you so you can say whatever you want but that doesn't mean that you should," Harrison warned.

Elise looked away but Voldemort could see she was smiling, just a bit.

"How many of them do you have?" he asked, gesturing at the two.

"Oh, not too many. I'm a bit picky I'm afraid. Most people didn't hold my standards once I caught them, and honestly? Some of them died too fast."

"You're horrible, master," Lucian informed.

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that. It wasn't accidental that I became horrible, that was the point itself." Harrison looked at Voldemort. "Was that your point too, or do you have a more noble cause than me?"

"What has become known as the Light side, for some reason, and in particular a man named Albus Dumbledore, seems convinced that the Muggle world should know about us. I don't wish that, nor am I fond of some old, pureblood ideals being pushed aside. Protesting against such things makes one evil."

"As if the Muggles needs to know about us," Harrison said. "I know I didn't help, but it's not like their witch-hunting actually caught them many real witches. As for pureblood ideals, I don't care much for it. I'm not pureblood after all."

Harrison, Voldemort learned as they continued to talk, was not a political-inclined man. He hated it. He knew his actions were bad and still stood by them. He knew people like Albus Dumbledore were in the right, and yet continued to defy them. He lived his life however he wanted, and was just fine with being the evil man.

"You look like a child who just met his hero," Harrison stated after a while.

The Dark Lord felt a flare of irritation rise up and then die out. The Nightmare Lord wasn't too far off that mark if he was honest. Voldemort truly admired Harrison, ever since he found that book. He had heard it wasn't always as good meeting those you respected and admired but his opinions on Harrison hadn't changed. Maybe he was different than what Voldemort thought. Maybe he was a bit stranger and wilder than he imagined, but then again, this was the man who had created Inferi for fun.

"I still can't get over how you have lived this long."

"It's a secret," Harrison replied. "Also, I hate wrinkles."

"I see."

"You know, I'm starting to wonder if evil personality automatically means you become vain because as a child I couldn't care less how I looked."

Harrison tapped his chin.

"Now then," he said after a while. "Since I haven't been around this world for a while, why don't we chat over a cup of tea and you can tell me how fucked up this world has become."

-o-

Harrison normally didn't go clothes shopping. Elise did. But seeing as Elise was busy, she had to check over the manor and all of the wards, so he decided to be nice and get his own clothes. Which meant he had to go to Diagon Alley.

More surprising than him going shopping was the man next to him. Voldemort was under a complex glamour, as more people knew his face than Harrison's, but the fact that Elise told him he could go with Harrison was… well, not what Harrison had expected of her.

"This is a bit ridiculous," Harrison admitted. "Two dark lords going shopping. Like the start of a joke."

"Well, normally I would've declined but Elise was fingering that dagger at her belt a bit too lovingly that I didn't want to endanger myself."

"She non-verbally threatened you then?" Harrison said with a hum. "She does that sometimes."

"How often?"

"Depends how much she likes you. If she hadn't, she probably would have put the dagger at your neck instead."

"Good to know."

And so they stepped into Diagon Alley together. Harrison didn't mind this Voldemort. The one he had known as a child was crazier, and obsessed with winning. This notion of light and dark had entered young Harrison's mind, which was just silly now. There were no light or dark sides in a war; there were just sides and what they stood for.

Harrison didn't think exposing the magical world to Muggles could be considered a good thing. When he had done it, it certainly was seen as a bad thing. But Albus Dumbledore didn't mean to expose it like he had; he probably meant it in a way so Muggles and magical people could co-exist.

Which was stupid in Harrison's opinion. Alright, so he was a bit biased against Albus Dumbledore, but still, the Muggles didn't need to know about magic.

"You don't need to follow me for the clothes," Harrison said after a while. "I could be a while. I barely remember how to shop for clothes."

"Elise mentioned that as well and casually suggested that I was… how did she put it; the negotiator?"

"I don't plan on torturing anyone today."

"Well, I can handle the talking if you just let them do the measurements I suppose." Voldemort was silent for a moment. "I didn't want to mention this earlier, but you are aware that you're barefoot, right?"

"Of course I'm aware of that," Harrison replied. "I like not having boots on, but I also wasn't allowed to wear the ones at the manor. Elise set them on fire before I could even try."

"So, boots as well," Voldemort said. "This is a very strange day."

"Tell me about it. Now, where are we going?"

Voldemort directed them to a robe shop near Knockturn Alley and Harrison hated that he had to stand still in front of a mirror while he was being measured. But he endured, if only to not have to do it again. The girl was efficient as well, and was soon done with the measurements.

Voldemort had decided, once he saw Harrison could handle it, to instead read the newspaper the shop provided and so Harrison was set in front of different robe styles. He was about to order plain black robes, when he pictured Elise's enraged face when he came home with that.

"Time to be creative then," he muttered.

He asked for recommendations, forcing himself to be somewhat polite, and did make a few custom requests that delighted the shop owner to no end. When it came to colour, he stuck mostly to black, only choosing a few slashes of colours and mostly more on the dark end.

At one point, he did see Voldemort look over, seemingly amused with it all. He looked better than the Voldemort Harrison had known, but then again, one didn't have to try hard to look better than that Voldemort.

Pants and shirts were easier to choose, and the shop owner insisted on vests too. Harrison kept his boredom at bay, and instead turned to what he had learned from Voldemort the previous day.

Harry Potter, the fifteen-year old, was apparently destined to kill the Dark Lord but it appeared that while Voldemort had attacked and tried to kill him as a baby, it hadn't been a success. Voldemort had gone into hiding after that to regroup and plan. The war wasn't over, it had just been brewing under the surface for over ten years, and Harrison had the feeling that with him being there it would surely start again.

Did Voldemort think Harrison would heed his commands? There was still a lot of arrogance in the man, but if he thought Harrison would follow his words then he was wrong. Harrison never did like to listen to what others told him to do. He listened to his servants but they were different. They never tried to take advantage of him.

In the end, choosing clothes took closer to an hour, and he could leave with a few sets that had already been sewn. The rest he could collect later. Which meant Elise or Lucian would collect it later.

"You took your time," Voldemort said.

"And you don't?"

"Not that long."

"Be fair on me, I haven't gone clothes-shopping in… many years, I'm a bit rusty. Also, Elise insists I look good when I kill someone. Gods knows why, because she's the one who has to buy more when I get too much blood on the robes."

"Each to their own, I suppose."

They quickly left Diagon Alley, and Voldemort requested they dined at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Sure, but why? Is their food good?"

"More for hearing information," Voldemort said. "Sometimes, people's tongues are loosened here."

"Fine by me."

They sat down and Harrison wrinkled his nose at most options they served before picking one at random. As they waited, he started listen in on people. Most of them were discussing the attack at the Ministry.

"You could have escaped the Ministry without alerting anyone," Voldemort said after putting up a privacy spell around them. "Why didn't you?"

"I wanted to have fun," Harrison said. "And also let people know I had escaped."

"Well, they certainly know it's not me. I also would never do it from the outside. From the inside, it becomes easier."

"True," Harrison admitted. "But it was also easy because no one was expecting me."

"How did you get out anyway? If you've been locked up for centuries, why now?"

"I saw a chance and took it. It was thanks to your Inferi I believe. They are waking up apparently."

"Not by chance," Voldemort replied. "That Potter boy isn't getting younger, he's only getting stronger. I want to get rid of their precious weapon before it's too late."

"He's what, fifteen? How can he be a threat?"

"Because I know better than to underestimate people on Albus Dumbledore's side. Even if they are children."

Their food was served, and Voldemort waited until they were alone again before he continued:

"So I've been performing raids, gathering information as we go. So far Dumbledore's side doesn't seem to have figured out the information part."

"What do they see the raids as?"

"Attempts at chaos. Stealing something, killing… mostly scaring people and making them more aware we're still around."

"Sounds like fun. Have you planned anymore?"

"Not really."

"Then, what kind of place wouldn't they want attacked right now?"

"Only a few places. The Ministry of course, and then Hogwarts or the nearby village, Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade because of its connection to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts… it's been a long time since I visited that place. It's still a school, right?"

Harrison knew Hogwarts would always be a school; the castle itself was only meant to be a school. But it was easier for now to pretend he didn't know.

"Yes. You've been there before?"

"Back in the day," Harrison said. "I think Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw fancied me a bit."

"You've met two of the founders?" Voldemort asked.

"I met all four of them. Nice children. Helga was a sweetheart; she liked plants."

Voldemort was staring at him.

"What?" Harrison said. "Yes, I knew them. It's not that big of a deal. Are they well known today or what?"

"To a certain degree. Salazar Slytherin is not well-liked. His house is known for having… students that are evil. It's said it reflects who he was."

"Salazar Slytherin, evil?" Harrison laughed. "Salazar may have had some opinions on Muggles and Muggleborn children, but he was a far cry from evil."

The look on Voldemort's face made Harrison cave in and tell him a bit more about the four founders. Mostly them, and not how he met them, or what they made him feel. He hadn't known who they were when he saw them, yet he had felt in awe of them. In the end, he had sort of mentored them a bit.

Which was ridiculous. He, a mentor? That was just tragic. Well, it had paid off. Not only did he find friends in the four founders, but he also helped build Hogwarts. He knew the castle very well.

He got to be very familiar with all her wards.

-o-

A few days later, Harrison stepped into Voldemort's manor but this time he was invited in, and also there was more people around. Death Eaters to be precise, and they were all staring at him as he walked side by side with Voldemort. He was not going to walk behind the man, and had made that clear earlier. Voldemort had only replied with:

"I don't doubt that one bit."

They came to a large room with a single throne raised at the end. Harrison glanced at Voldemort and said:

"Really? A throne?"

"Yes. Don't tell me you didn't have one."

"… Alright, I did have one. But it looked more comfortable than this one."

Voldemort took out his wand and sent off a spell. Harrison watched fascinated as a second throne grew forth out of the stone ground, this one decidedly looking more comfortable. He sat down without even stopping, and didn't care at the collective sound of gasps from the Death Eaters.

"My lord…" one voice began hesitantly from the mass of black robes and masks.

"Yes?" Voldemort asked silkily, caressing his wand as his red eyes found the speaker.

"Who is the man?"

It was Bellatrix Lestrange, and her eyes were fastened on Harrison with a deadly stare. He merely smiled at her and waggled his fingers.

"Someone you ought to respect, Bellatrix," Voldemort hissed. "He's the one who attacked the Ministry, single-handedly. He killed several Aurors and did us a great favour. You will all do well in respecting him."

Their stares were no longer hesitant or anger; it was awe now. Awe and a healthy dose of fear.

"Tonight we shall do a raid!" Voldemort said, getting their attention. "We will show the Ministry, and Dumbledore's Order that we will no longer sit idle in the shadows! Tonight marks the full return of the war. Tonight, we will deal with Hogsmeade. Their precious village will know our wrath of being judged unfairly."

Harrison glanced over at Voldemort. The speech was a bit dramatic, but it seemed to be working. From what he understood, most of them were purebloods, and their ideals and traditions had been pushed away more and more over the years. They wanted that back, which meant they sided with Voldemort who also urged for certain traditions to be allowed once more. That, and they didn't want their world revealed to the Muggles.

Back when Harrison was still Harry Potter, he had pictured all the Death Eaters as mental, all of them a version of Bellatrix Lestrange. He had thought Voldemort simply insane.

This Voldemort was not completely sane, he would've gone into honest politics if he was, but he had charisma and probably the charm to talk people around to see things from his side.

"Move out," Voldemort stated. "Gather outside the village, and await my command. Do not let people sense your magic."

They all bowed. Harrison tapped a finger against his cheek, biting back a smile. Such good little sheep… Voldemort turned to him and said:

"Don't you have your wand?"

"I don't need one," Harrison stated. "To be honest, it would only slow me down."

"Is that so? I look forward to seeing you in action then."

Harrison looked forward to be in action, and stood up with a smile.

He Apparated alongside Voldemort to Hogsmeade, seeing the castle beyond the village. He took a deep breath seeing it. His home as a child, now housing most of his enemies. Albus fucking Dumbledore. It had taken all of Harrison's control to not shout at the man back in his prison. Scream at him for what he had done. Would have done. In this time, it appeared he wasn't going to throw this Harry Potter into Azkaban. This Harry Potter still had his parents, still had love in his heart.

Harrison knew he was going to kill Dumbledore here. He didn't want the castle to be run by him, even if this Dumbledore might be… nicer than the one he had known.

"Everyone," Voldemort said. "Show your skills but be careful. Do not get caught. When you see my symbol in the sky, you Apparate away."

They all nodded, faceless beings cloaked in black. Harrison turned his attention to the village.

"May I go first?" he asked.

"Such insolence-!"

"Bella, be quiet," Voldemort said. "Go ahead, my lord."

They all gasped hearing the title spill from Voldemort's lips. Harrison raised his hands and filled his body with magic. It soon spilled over and entered the air. He began to glow, and then darken. He didn't need to look back to see them all stare at him.

The ground beneath him began to rumble, and dark roots broke through. He would begin small. The roots were something he had come up with in the beginning, when he was still so young. He had forced magic into tree roots, made them do his bidding, and now could create them from scratch.

One shot through a house, another wrapped around a second house. As the dark watched, Harrison let the roots go wild.

The first one to pierce a human though had him jerking a bit. That person's life-force, the very essence that made them breathe, flowed into him. Harrison laughed. He couldn't help it. He was filling up with energy, and the roots stayed put, frozen in place. He then gathered that very same life-force into his hands, forming not a spell, but just pure magic. He turned to look at Voldemort.

"Well then…" he said. "Here we go."

Voldemort ordered the attack. Harrison ran towards the village. Alarms sounded. People screamed and fought back. Soon enough he saw the Order come, wands ready. His grin widened, but there was not yet time for them to know that Harrison had met Voldemort. He concealed his face, and kept to the shadows. The thrill of the fight, feeling so many magical signals clashing together, it made him shudder in delight.

He found James Potter duelling three people at once, doing quite well for himself. He dodged spells, or created shields to have some bounce back. One was hit and fell. The second rushed to their fallen comrade and ran off with them, heeding Voldemort's orders of not getting caught. James continued to duel with the third.

A cutting curse shot off to the side, the Death Eater bouncing it away from themselves with a shield. It hit Severus Snape, and tore him up. He crumpled to the ground and the third Death Eater fled while James was distracted.

"Shit! Snape!"

He ran over to Severus and fell to his knees, keeping pressure on the wound.

"Of all the times to be sneaking in the shadows, Snape!" James growled. "Shit, shit, shit!"

Harrison walked closer. James' mind was a mess. He hadn't meant to hit Snape. He truly hadn't. But everyone knew his dislike for the man. Lily knew his dislike for her friend, and would she… would she believe he intended to hit Snape?

But if Snape was dead, then they wouldn't know. The man was already bleeding out, dark eyes already a bit dimmer. James' hands eased from the wounds, hesitant. Harrison could almost taste his fear.

"It was an accident," James said. "It was… Snape, it was… but I can't…"

Harrison skimmed through James' thoughts as James rose up and backed away from Snape, who was staring up at James. James was too distracted staring back that he didn't notice Harrison's intrusion. Ah, there. An incident when they were twenty-one. James had attacked Snape on purpose after an argument. After that, people grew wary of letting them be alone. Lily had thrown him out for the night.

"Such little faith in your wife," Harrison murmured. "James… look at me."

He took a deeper look into James' mind, and laughed.

"Jealous, are you?" he said and James was shaking, Snape looking at them both. "Jealous because your son respects this man. Jealous because no matter what this man does, Lily defends him. Yes, you didn't mean to attack him tonight… but you won't miss him if he dies."

Harrison sent James on his way, their meeting already forgotten in James' mind, and then continued himself.

The battle moved closer and closer to Hogwarts. It left Hogsmeade burned and charred in places. Harrison had a feeling the Death Eaters would be called back soon, and made his way back into the village. Corpses lay strewn across the roads. One or two Death Eaters, and Harrison weighed his options for a few moments before wrapping the bodies up in their cloaks and sealing them away to later give them to Voldemort. Might as well make it more difficult for Dumbledore's side from the start.

A few corpses got raised and sent staggering away to where the fighting still was. Harrison played with the roots, had them start moving again when he noticed a faint magical signal amongst the corpses. He followed it, stepping over bodies and the man was still moving, very slowly. Harrison knelt down in the blood and turned the body over.

The eyes were a throwback to the past, black and deep. But the nose was straight and narrow here, and the teeth were clean. The skin was white instead of sallow, and the wound stretching up to his neck had almost stopped bleeding on account of not much blood remaining in Severus Snape's body.

"Hello there, Severus," Harrison said.

The dark eyes rolled around, and Harrison was amazed the potions master was still alive. The cutting curse had been deep. Yet this man clung onto life with all he had. Blood coloured his lips, but he kept fighting for each breath.

"You don't know who I am," Harrison continued. "But then again, why should you? The Severus Snape I knew, he doesn't exist now, does he? Harry respects you. I never did. Is it because Lily is alive here?"

Harrison felt around. Severus had a few more cuts now, maybe from dragging himself away from where he had fallen. As he turned his attention back to Severus' face, he saw those black eyes watching him.

"Tell me something," Harrison said. "Do you want to live?"

Severus tried to raise his wand, still in a tight grip in his hand. He wasn't giving up, Harrison had to give him that. But it didn't take much to lower it back onto the ground again.

"Do you want to live?" he repeated.

The eyes clouded over for a moment, the whole face contorted in pain but then there was the faintest of nods. Harrison laughed in delight, clapping his hands when he realized he just caught himself a potions master.

"Good. Very good. I'll make you all better. A lot better. I do like your eyes, but they'll be just the tiniest bit different once I'm done. Not that anyone will see that until I want them too. Alright then, up we go."

Harrison moved his hands. Severus' wounds stopped bleeding and he was then levitated into the air. Harrison took a look around but none of the corpses fit his tastes. The ones he raised earlier would be burned away.

"I better look into my Inferi soon," he said to himself. "So I at least don't have to worry about them. But not right now."

He looked over Severus.

"Needs a fair bit of mending. Better get on with it."

He saw a skull rise, and a snake moving out of its mouth. Sounds of people Apparating reached him.

"So that's his signal," Harrison said. "Good that some things don't change."

He grabbed onto Severus and Apparated.

To be continued…