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Harry Potter and the Ritual of Love's Memory | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, General, Romance Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 259 Summary: After the horcrux hunt implodes leaving most of those Harry loves dead, he starts a new life with a few fellow survivors far away from wizarding Britain. But the discovery of an ancient ritual that promises to send a single memory back in time sparks hope that maybe things can change. Dark ending to DH followed by a tweaked retelling of GoF through DH. Harry/Ginny. Friday updates. Original Timeline Voldemort's Victory - Chapter 1-5 (Feel free to skip if you don't like major character deaths) Tenochtitlán - Chapter 6-9 New Timeline Harry's 4th Year - Chapter 10-28 Harry's 5th Year - Chapter 29-68 Harry's 6th Year - Chapter 69-Current Hitcount: Story Total: 169486; Chapter Total: 1247 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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"We didn't even actually beat him," argued Harry from under the covers of his four-poster, even though he was certain the adrenaline pumping in his veins wouldn't allow sleep anytime soon. "He ended up knocking us all out by the end of it." A chorus of disagreement and at least two thrown pillows constituted the reply from Harry's dormmates. "Don't listen to a word he says!" barked Ron. "You should've seen it! Dumbledore basically demanded that we all head up to his office to watch the memory as soon they revived us. It was bloody mental!" Even though Harry didn't usually enjoy the extra attention from things like this, he couldn't help smiling as Ron retold the story for the third time that night. He'd excitedly gone over it once on the walk back to Gryffindor Tower, again with Neville by the fireplace, and now again for Seamus and Dean. The story had already grown slightly more fanciful in the retellings, and Harry figured that the whole school would likely have heard some embellished version by lunch the next day. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching a replay of the battle from various perspectives. Ginny's instincts had been correct about the other squad aiming for a more defensive strategy and Ron's tactics of splitting up had helped create an advantage. Professor Flitwick and Daphne had made the gambit to sneak around behind while the Gryffindor team encircled the defensive position, but losing Flitwick early had been a real blow to their plans. Parvati had been knocked out while making a break for cover. Not long after, the cover Hermione, Ron, and Moody were hiding behind lifted and shattered. The former auror managed to deflect the incoming stunners sent his way, but Hermione and Ron hadn't been as fortunate. Ron dove to push Hermione toward safety and got tagged by two spells in the process. Mad-Eye was taken out by a silent spell from Snape not long after that, though not without taking Blaise down in the process. "So the huge boulders are flying away from him, about to leave him totally exposed to become target practice for three headmasters. So what do you think he does? Sticking Charms himself to one of them and gets a free ride to right over Dumbledore's head and uses a bloody nonverbal expelliarmus to disarm him like it's no big deal!" The other boys, including Neville, who was just as invested in the story this second time around, responded with a bevy of reverent swears. Harry didn't even try to slow Ron's breathless description of the deflected spells from Dumbledore, though he did remind his best mate that he only managed to withstand three instead of five. "If you were trying to convince me to go all out to pass the Advanced Defense entrance exam, you can stop now," enthused Seamus. "We've got to all get in, yeah?" "For sure," agreed Dean. "I felt like I was fairly close last time, so hopefully I can make it through on the next go." "From what Ron's saying, I don't know how much good it'll do for me to make it into the advanced class," hedged Neville apprehensively. "But I want to do it anyway. It'd be really cool to earn a spot there." "I think you can all do it," encouraged Harry earnestly. "You're all so much further than you were last year when we started Defense Club." "Absolutely," added Ron. "I bet you all pass before the holidays! We'll probably get an influx of new folks in the class; you lot aren't the only ones on the cusp of making it." The conversation about which other students were likely to pass the entrance exam (Susan, Ernie, and a few of the seventh years were consensus picks, but Luna also received several votes of confidence) soon shifted into an array of other goings-on at Hogwarts, which lasted late into the night. By the time Harry finally drifted to sleep, he'd finally allowed himself to agree with Ron's assessment that disarming the most powerful wizard alive was bloody cool. ~RLM~ Harry flopped back into his chair and wiped the sweat from his brow onto his sleeve with a sigh. The magic of his rogue memory refused to cooperate with him, despite his strong showing during Advanced Defense. Slight tingles in his wand hand felt promising during the first few minutes of his session with Professor Flamel, but the past hour of frustration had stamped out any semblance of hope. A jovial chuckle emerged from beyond the smudged lens of Harry's glasses, which didn't do much to assuage his frustration as he attempted to clean his glasses using the bottom of his now-untucked shirt. On the one hand, Harry understood why Dumbledore spent time and effort bringing both of the Flamels to Hogwarts. Perenelle was exceptionally powerful and excelled at teaching defensive concepts to her students. Harry was certain he'd improved greatly learning from her and could see the same sort of results in the members of the Defense Club. Nicolas' intellect seemingly knew no bounds and he was the foremost expert in the realm of spell creation across the globe. Still, the two ancient professors grated on Harry's nerves at times. Perenelle was a stickler for rules and was quick to deduct points for the tiniest of infractions. After enduring Umbridge's class the year before, he had been very much hoping for a reprieve. Instead, Harry found nearly all his missteps in Defense were noticed and punished, even if the consequences were much more fitting and she always offered the opportunity to earn half the points back. Frustratingly, Nicolas was prone to remaining silent for large swaths of their time together. The strain of Harry's attempts left him exhausted by the end of each session, but the professor rarely gave instruction or guidance about how the process should proceed. The aged man had not been lying about the difficulty of the undertaking, but now Harry couldn't help feeling like he was disappointing the professor. Hour after hour and week after week, Nicolas sat in his office chair poring over various tomes while Harry attempted to make a breakthrough. The man rarely looked up at his student, only breaking the silence on occasion to quip a sly remark or repeat an oft-used admonition. "Professor, I've got a question." Harry's weary voice cut through the quiet of Professor Flamel's office. "Is it a question that you believe will aid in the completion of your task?" Harry slunk down until his head rested against the back of the chair and let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know. I hope so." "Then, by all means, forge ahead," replied Nicolas, his eyes finally shifting from his book to his student. "What am I doing wrong?" The small man gave a huff of a laugh and rose from his seat, meandering about the office with his hands clasped behind his back. He came to a stop in front of Harry, his face scrunched up as if squinting at something far in the distance. "That is not the most unhelpful question you have posed during our sessions, but it only barely clears that bar. Can you surmise why?" Harry squeezed his eyes tightly closed. His Occlumency lessons with Snape and McGonagall had driven home the idea that the mind was most easily betrayed through eye contact, and he didn't particularly want his professor to know the frustrated thoughts swimming in his brain. He released a sigh before answering. "Because it focuses on the end result instead of the process?" The professor raised an eyebrow, but neither confirmed that Harry was correct nor provided an alternative. "Because it assumes I'm the one doing anything instead of the magic finding its way out through me? Because it distracts me from feeling out the magic?" Professor Flamel chuckled to himself before patting his student on the shoulder in a way that may have been meant as encouragement but felt patronizing to Harry. "All correct in their own way, but not why I consider the question so far from the mark," intoned Nicolas with a nod of his head. "No, your question was particularly unhelpful because it presupposes failure: that you are actively doing something incorrectly. That the reason you have not succeeded rests upon your own efforts and mistakes. A more advantageous query would be 'What am I doing well?'" "Alright, professor…" retorted Harry, doing his best to remain calm despite growing frustration. "What am I doing well?" "What do you think you are doing well?" came Professor Flamel's immediate reply. The man sauntered back to his desk and returned his eyes to his book. With resignation, Harry pushed himself up off the chair and retook his position concentrating on the feeling of the rogue memory's magic and focused on the tingle in his wand-hand fingers. ~RLM~ Harry was still not used to the headmaster's office being so crowded during horcrux hunting meetings. Nine chairs (including Professor Flamel's wheelchair) were arranged in a circle, though not all were filled. Sirius, Tonks, and Moody were discussing something quietly by one of Dumbledore's bookcases. The younger two still appeared rather frustrated at Remus' absence, unable to attend due to the full moon. Harry's godfather loosed several potent swears over the communication mirror when the hastily scheduled meeting had been set for this particular evening. McGonagall was seated next to Perenelle, both of whom were engrossed in a discussion about their seventh year students, while Snape's back was to the group as he gazed stiffly out the window onto the grounds as heavy rain poured from the dark skies. Bill leaned back in the chair between Harry and Professor McGonagall, ignoring the Transfiguration professor's disapproving look at his precarious seating position. "Yeah, I've never seen Charlie like this before," laughed Bill with a broad smile. "He didn't date much in school. As far as I know, he never had anything serious with anyone in Romania, at least nothing he told me about. But Cedric's really got his full attention. What can you tell me about him?" "Ginny's probably a better judge than me, but I like him a lot," noted Harry. He looked up toward the ceiling, trying to recollect what stood out about his friend. "I enjoyed running Defense Club with him. He was great with the younger students and really knew his stuff. When we were both in the Triwizard Tournament, he did well in all three events and offered me some helpful advice before the underwater one. And he was with Ginny, Ron, and the others fighting in the Ministry in the spring." "All good signs," admitted Bill. "But that's mostly stuff I already know. What about him as a person? Should I be worried about him breaking Charlie's heart?" "That's harder for me to judge," hedged Harry, unsure of exactly how to answer. "From what I saw, I think he treated Cho really well while they were together. There are definitely blokes here at Hogwarts who are quick to talk about what they get up to with who they're dating, but he never came across that way to me. Maybe it's because I don't do that either, but I never heard him talk about Cho disrespectfully." "Spoken like someone dating a girl with six older brothers," said Bill with a knowing grin, causing a nervous laugh to escape Harry. "Over the summer, we exchanged a few letters. After he broke up with Cho, he reached out to ask me and the other leaders to look out for her this term." Harry tried to recall the exact phrasing of the letter, but couldn't quite remember. "I still don't really know why they split up, but he seemed genuinely interested in her having support. Probably wasn't super comfortable being at Ginny's birthday party alongside Cho, but I never saw him say or do anything questionable. "I guess that I don't really know enough to say for sure, but he's the kind of person I'd be happy to have dating someone I care about. And from what Ginny's said, she's thrilled about it. I'd give her opinion a lot more weight than mine." Bill allowed his chair legs to fall back to the floor with a resounding thump as Dumbledore entered through his floo, causing the others to begin moving toward the circle of chairs. "That's true, but I like having your perspective on him, too. Some guys are one way out in the open but act differently when girls aren't around. Glad to know Cedric doesn't seem like that kind of person. It'd be a shame to have to unleash the full fury of the Weasley siblings upon him…" Though Harry was almost certain the ending was meant as nothing more than a playful jab, he still audibly gulped as Bill gave him a protective brother look. "Welcome, one and all," began Dumbledore, breathing slightly heavily. "I apologize for my tardiness. Madam Bones is exceedingly interested in asking questions which I think best left unanswered, and I have only just extricated myself from the Ministry." "Any word on the attack in Leeds?" asked Tonks. Dumbledore sighed before responding. "Amelia confirmed seven dead, though two more are in critical condition. She did not wish to relay the names of the two aurors who were killed, but she was kind enough to share that Kingsley was uninjured." Tonks looked stricken at the news that two aurors had died, but her shoulders sagged with relief at word that Kingsley was unscathed. Across from Harry, Moody's grim expression hardened further while Sirius raked his hand down his face in frustration. Dumbledore nodded and released a long breath before continuing. "This evening should be considerably shorter than our previous meeting, as we have much less material to cover. Firstly, Minerva will give us an update regarding the study of the empty horcrux encasements she has been researching with Perenelle and Bill. I would then invite Severus to share his recent findings, before engaging in discussion regarding our next steps." The speed with which the group was now working took Harry aback. After more than a year of painfully slow progress marked by huge triumphs every few months, the increased size of the group had allowed things to move much more quickly. He supposed part of the change was due to having drastically different goals now: instead of searching rather blindly for hidden horcruxes, the group was now focused on more concrete tasks. "The three of us, with Albus' help when available, have been examining the magical protections used to secure the diary, ring, locket, and diadem," started McGonagall gravely. "We have ascertained that the diary contained approximately 50% of Voldemort's soul, the ring held almost 25%, the locket nearly 6%, and the diadem roughly 3%. Albus and Remus confirmed the cup to be just under 12%." "We've triple-checked the arithmancy and everything looks like you all were right about the maximum number of horcrux one person should be able to create," added Bill with a nod toward McGonagall. "But we did the math under the assumption that splitting a soul was done cleanly for an even split." "Instead, we believe that the act of committing murder does not cleave the soul like a knife as much as it rips the soul apart," described Professor Flamel, her voice raspy from a long week of speaking to her classes. She frowned as she placed her hands together before violently tearing them apart. "Those jagged edges account for the previous disparities in the arithmancy." "That unaccounted-for sliver of soul is what we believe was dislodged that night in Godric's Hollow," concluded McGonagall. "While there is still more research to be done, we hope to unravel more of the mysteries surrounding this abhorrent magic in order to better understand how to safely undo it." "Thank you all for your time and energy researching the matter," acknowledged Dumbledore. "The more knowledge we glean now, the more expediently we may put those insights to use once we have captured the final intended horcrux. Severus, would you speak to the beginnings of that gambit?" Snape's expression was sour, but not as Harry was used to seeing it when someone made a mistake in potions or a group of younger students were too cheerful in his general vicinity. It was more that he looked distinctly worn out and frustrated at the world. The dark circles under his eyes made Harry think the man hadn't been sleeping well, and he winced slightly when moving. "The opportunities to confirm our suspicions are few and fraught with danger. I have yet to hear a viable plan to ascertain how much soul remains within the Dark Lord that would not result in swift capture and prolonged torture." The potion master's eyes flitted toward Dumbledore briefly but then continued. "The snake is another matter." Harry's attention waned as the professor began to delve into the intricacies of how he determined that Voldemort's snake contained 1.5% of soul. Once Snape was done with his update, the conversation shifted into a debate about what that meant for the group, how Snape might secretly perform the magic on the most dangerous wizard alive, and how to apprehend Nagini from under Voldemort's watchful eye. There was much more speculation than concrete answers. Instead of focusing on the back-and-forth discussion, Harry watched Snape intently. The man avoided moving as much as possible and didn't speak unless addressed directly. He had also been oddly unwilling to scoff derisively at Sirius, instead leaving it to Dumbledore to explain why an idea for infiltrating Malfoy Manor would not be feasible. While Moody and Professor Flamel debated tactics, Snape's gaze met Harry's from across the circle. Rarely did their eyes meet outside of Occlumency practice, and even then, Harry spent most of his time determined to not allow the professor the advantage of eye contact. But in the moment, there was something behind them that Harry couldn't quite identify. Snape took a slow breath that looked to Harry as though it caused the man a significant amount of pain, though there was no sign of it on his face. The others were engrossed in their conversation, but none of it registered as green eyes probed black. With dawning realization, Harry thought he could recognize the signs of magic in his professor's demeanor from experience. The ache of muscles and soreness of joints after Harry's fight in the graveyard. The almost imperceptible twitches and dulled senses after the battle at the Ministry of Magic. The withdrawn feeling after both instances. "The Cruciatus…" thought Harry, wincing as he stared across the circle. Snape inclined his scowling face in a small nod so subtly that none of the other members of the group noticed, but Harry understood immediately. The man had not been spared from whatever fury Voldemort unleashed on his followers for their failures. Harry remembered the days and weeks of drinking odious potions and stretching out his muscles to ease the after-effects of the curse. Nights tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep without waking to vivid memories of the moments held under its torturous power. Despite his anger at Snape for the years of belittling and abuse, Harry felt his own face soften and his teeth unclench. He blinked twice, looking at the professor as if for the first time. Snape was cruel. He had been vicious toward Harry and so many other students, terrorizing kids like Neville who had done nothing to deserve his ire. The man was blatantly unfair as a professor and Head of House. And yet, Harry could see glimmers of good in the man. He'd taught Occlumency well enough to help eliminate most of Harry's visions and dreams of what Voldemort was doing. Snape had employed the countercurse that kept Harry on his broom during his first year. Now, he was willingly subjecting himself to the costs of being a double agent, trading his own suffering for intelligence about how to topple Voldemort and save a student he loathed. There was nothing for Harry to say. The discussion around them was winding down and he doubted that Snape had any desire for his plight to be acknowledged by the others. He had done far too masterful a job at concealing his pain to be angling for sympathy. Dumbledore launched what was probably an encouraging (albeit lengthy) conclusion about the importance of their work, but Harry's eye remained fixed on Snape. With his lips pressed closed in what was almost a frown but not quite, Harry nodded back at his professor. It was brief. Subtle. Not filled with forgiveness, but at least marked with a modicum of understanding. Many of the group hung back after the meeting adjourned to catch up with each other, although Sirius only gave Harry a quick hug, whispered, "Moony," and dashed to the floo. When Harry looked back, Snape had swept out of the office, striding stiffly away from the rest of the group without a word. |
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