In the World Around Us

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By Mutt N Feathers

Author's Note: A phenomenal author by the name of Old Crow is writing a brilliant story called Unintended Consequences: The Great Wand Out about everyone in Wizarding Europe suddenly becoming wandless. He then challenged other Fan Fic writers to take the story's basic premise and give it their spin. This is mine. I hope you enjoy it. This is different than anything else I have ever written. MNF

Chapter 1:

Gone, but not Forgotten

Harry had never been so frightened in his life. Cedric was dead only feet from him. Wormtail was handless but still helping robe the creature that had emerged from the cauldron in front of him. Helpless, Harry remained tied to a gravestone and bleeding down his arm and into the grass beneath him. Grass that had a giant snake that looked prepared to make Harry his dinner. He felt sick. That skin that was so white. Those violently red eyes. The slits where a nose should be.

Voldemort had come back and was standing only feet away from Harry.

The young wizard fought the urge to vomit, although Harry wanted Voldemort to come close enough, he could do it on him if he had to. Voldemort picked up Wormtail's left arm and touched his disgusting, gnarled wand to the slithering mark. Harry knew this was it; he would die. At least he would see his mum and dad.

Harry did his best to ignore the rantings Voldemort made, instead thinking of Remus and Sirius, hoping his godfather would be okay without him there. It was one day having Harry live with him that gave Sirius purpose every day. He thought of his friends, Ron and Hermione. They would miss Harry deeply; they might not even stay friends since Ron drove Hermione nuts. She was always someone who would succeed. Ron, however, needed someone to guide him. He thought of the girl he longed to kiss. Where was the fairness in life that he was about to die without ever kissing a girl?

Voldemort was spouting some nonsense about his parents and how he'd killed his father and grandparents. All Harry could think was 'duh.' Only psychopaths killed their families, and Voldemort was definitely a psychopath.

With light pops, people in black robes and white masks began to fill the area. As Voldemort healed Wormtail, making Harry hate both of them more, he thought about all the things he would miss. He'd never finish school or become an Auror. He'd never have children of his own. He'd never learn what it really meant to be a Potter. All the things Sirius wanted to teach him; he'd never know them.

The murderer-in-chief held roll call, knocking off names Harry knew. He wasn't surprised by any of them. Death Eaters' children had been taunting him at Hogwarts; at least he now knew where their ideology came from. Suddenly Harry was gripped by pain. It was like nothing he'd ever known. Every inch of his body was on fire, and his muscles spasmed and cramped. He couldn't even duck out of the way from Voldemort's spell; he was still strapped to the tomb of the madman's father.

Then it stopped. Harry couldn't catch his breath and found the action of breathing painful. His head was splitting in two, and when Wormtail released him from the ropes, he tumbled to the ground. Then he was given his wand. Why was he offered his wand?

Abruptly, the pain was there again. Harry was sure this would finally kill him. He was waiting for it, praying for it. Unexpectedly, it stopped.

The others were laughing as Harry fell to the ground and spit out the bile that had risen in his throat. Harry looked around, but there was nowhere to run. If he was to meet death tonight, Harry would face his end like a man. So, on shaky legs, he stood. Voldemort tried to put him under the Imperious Curse, but Harry had already learned what it felt like and, with Herculean strength, finally threw it off.

"I WON'T!" Harry screamed; a shockwave moved out from where he stood. The tombstones rattled, and older ones cast off dust and detritus. While Voldemort didn't have any issue withstanding Harry's magical discharge, some of his followers could not stay upright. Wormtail fell to the ground, wetting himself in the process.

"You have power," Voldemort said hungrily. "Imagine if you were at my side, we would be unstoppable."

"I will never join you," Harry said in a sneer.

"Then I suppose all that is left is for me to kill you," Voldemort hissed. "You'll soon join your worthless Muggle mother. Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled nearly simultaneously. The spells met with a vicious crash, sending magic out from all sides. Harry felt more robust as the spell went on. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he felt like a tap on his magic had been opened, and it was flowing freely now. A bubble of magic grew around Voldemort and himself, as well as the Death Eaters. A few tried to Disapparate away, but they were unable to and came crashing back to earth.

Voldemort took a step back, and then another as Harry's magic advanced on him. The newly reborn Dark Lord was driven to his knees as his wand burst apart and exploded in a puff of sawdust. The spell hit Voldemort in the chest. While the Disarming Charm wasn't supposed to be fatal, the wizard casting it wasn't any ordinary fellow. As Voldemort turned into a pile of dust the light wind of late spring blew to the four corners of the earth.

Harry wasn't done, though. With a primal scream, the Death Eaters' wands were destroyed, and then they disintegrated into nothing. All that was left were robes and masks.

At Hogwarts, Severus Snape was the first to notice his wand disappearing before his heart stopped, and he simply became a pile of dust. Death Eaters in Azkaban screamed out in horror as their hearts stopped and they evaporated into the netherworld. Even those who had aligned themselves with the Dark Lord, although never took his mark, faced the same fate.

Harry finally fell to the ground, exhausted. He passed out, not knowing what was happening around him. Not only had something awakened within him, but a silent force from within the earth itself had finally been brought forth from her slumber. She had work to do.

Throughout the night, wands simply disappeared. In the morning, piles of sawdust were found on nightstands, bureaus, and desks. Students at Hogwarts were unsure how they were to go to classes. Those who had harboured old family wands in vaults and wall safes opened them to find nothing more than dust. Even those buried with their long-departed masters decayed to nothing.

Another strange oddity occurred while Harry lay unconscious and an angel of death roamed through Great Britain, destroying the sticks of wood that witches and wizards were convinced they needed for magic. In a vault in Gringotts, a drawer in Grimmauld Place, the Room of Requirements at Hogwarts, and in a little drawer on the mantle of a shack only yards from where Harry stood a thin line of black smoke slithered from the thing it had called home for so long. With no living donor nearby, the smoke disappeared into the air.

The giant snake had slithered into a hole in the ground, and when her master died, she too withered. The Horcrux held within her slithered out and died as well.

Harry's head broke open, and a dark, bloody substance dripped down his face before drying out and blowing away. It left but a slight trace in his eyebrow.

Very early the next morning, long after the castle had been searched and no sign of Harry was found, everyone chose to sleep for a few hours and attack the search again in the daylight. In the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, the old man awoke with a start and rose to go to his desk. He looked at the ash where the fabled Elder Wand was supposed to be and felt dread fill his heart. How had this happened? That wand wasn't supposed to be able to fall to anyone. Albus's heart clenched again, and he fell.