This fan fiction work is set between the 6th and 7th years of Harry's time at Hogwarts. The war is
at full strength now and, hoping to turn the tide against Voldemort, Dumbledore has concocted a
Of course, most of these characters were created by J.K. Rowling and I hope that I treat them with the great respect that they deserve.
I would appreciate everyone's comments and reviews. I will be posting chapters every 2-3 days
because most of the story is already written so it is just a matter of formatting it and loading it.
Hope you all enjoy the story.
"So I'm dead."
"Yes. At least everyone thinks so. I moved quickly to get things arranged . . ."
Harry looked without comment at his Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, as he elaborated on how quickly he had taken advantage of the chance to make everyone, especially Lord Voldemort, think he had been killed at their last meeting.
Except for some mild stiffness in his shoulder and a nagging ache in his knee, Harry had actually not felt this well in quite some time. He had realized over the last few years that the scar on his forehead that used to only mark him as a survivor of Lord Voldemort's attempt on his life almost 16 years ago was also an indicator of the evil lord's moods and actions. This could be helpful at times but Harry basically had pain along that scar constantly, ranging in level from mildly prickly to head-splitting agony. Now, he felt nothing there and instinctively he reached up and rubbed the familiar lightning-shaped scar to make sure it was still there. It was.
Harry had met Lord Voldemort again in another battle just last night. Due to Harry's being distracted by one of the Death Eaters, Voldemort had hit Harry with a spell that knocked him unconscious and also broke his collarbone. Harry assumed that Moody, who was there with him, had managed to get him away before Voldemort could finish him off but he did not really understand exactly the chain of events that had landed him in the seriously wounded ward on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital. All he knew was what had happened since he had regained consciousness two hours ago. He knew it, but he was still absorbing it, trying to fit it all into some pattern that would make sense. He had woken but almost before he opened his eyes, Dumbledore had whisked him out of the ward using a portkey (Harry could have sworn it was a bedpan but did not really think he wanted to know) and they had both landed with a resounding thud on an empty train station platform. It took Harry a moment to recognize the familiar platform without the Hogwarts Express standing ready to go, but before he could really take in the surroundings of platform 9 3/4, they had passed through the barrier and were striding quickly out of the station and onto an Underground train. Harry knew that he was currently in a suburb of London, but was not quite oriented enough to know where.
Dumbledore was looking at him as though expecting an answer to a question, but Harry had not heard it, so he just made a non-committal grunting noise, but Dumbledore just smiled patiently at him. "Harry, I need to set the password. What do you want it to be?" Harry was confused. "If the Fidelius charm has been set on the house, why do I need a password?"
"Harry, I want multiple layers of protection around you, even here in the Muggle world. Something may happen. We just cannot take any chances."
"How can I have a portrait on my front door to take the password?" Harry felt stupid, like he had missed some vital part of the conversation, but did not want to admit that he had no clue exactly what was going on. He vaguely heard Dumbledore say something about an enchanted doorbell but got lost in thought again.
Dumbledore had explained briefly as they had walked the long distance from the Underground station to this house that he had told everyone in the hospital that Harry had died from his injuries and that this news was now plastered all over the front page of a special edition of the Daily Prophet and was being carried by owls to everyone in the wizarding world. Dumbledore had further explained at Harry's shocked expression that he was hoping that if Voldemort thought he had succeeded in killing off his enemy at last that he would make some foolish movement in the ongoing war and the Order of the Phoenix could maneuver him into a corner. "Then, suddenly, you are back, Harry, back and as strong as ever. If things go as I think they will, it will be a death blow to his forces. Yes, Harry, a death blow. We should be able to finally win this war. If things go as I think they will."
Harry thought this plan was pretty good, actually, although the thought of living back in the Muggle world for as long as two months was a little depressing. Harry had been raised as a Muggle until his 11th birthday but he had not found it very pleasant. His summer-time visits to his Muggle relatives had certainly not done anything to change his opinion. Dumbledore had told him that things might move faster than this and it could be as little as two weeks before he came back to get him, but Harry thought if he planned on two months and then it was shorter, it would be a pleasant surprise.
"Sir Cadogan." Harry finally said to Dumbledore. "The password can be Sir Cadogan."