Summary: When Cedric Diggory lay dead at his feet, struck down by Peter Pettigrew's curse, Harry Potter knew the time was here. The time for the War to begin anew, and for Voldemort to try and recapture his evil dreams. The time had come for Harry to reveal all he ever was, all he'd ever stood for, and what he believed in.
The time had come to let loose the power, to pick a side, and fight the good fight that was coming. But Harry finds himself disenchanted by the Light Side, riddled by its old beliefs and prejudices, not really that different from their enemies. The government is riddled by corruption and inter-Departmental Politics, but in the end, it all comes down to power, and who holds it.
No more – this time, power returns to where it truly belongs, in the hands of the common people. The Wizengamot, though, stands in the way of this Democracy, built up so many years ago by the greatest wizard of all time, Merlin himself. Yet is it everything Merlin wanted it to be today, mired as it is in darkness and politics? Could the answer lie in the centre of all magic in Britain, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, home to Merlin himself all those years ago?
Join Harry, along with a Succubus with a slap-happy tail and a dark past, and a new set of friends – with some old ones, as he takes the fifth year head on.
And in the end, only a few questions will remain unanswered – will the Wizarding World of Britain really change? Will secrets that have remained hidden for so long within the walls of Hogwarts come to light?
And most importantly, why is there an empty seat next to Harry in Potions, and why is he the only one who seems bothered by it?
The shadows lengthen, and time starts running out as Harry Potters enters his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A/N: Pairings remain undecided, but is on poll, while Ginny Weasley remains a constant. Swearing included, may even turned rampant. No bashing as of such, but definite anger. Major departures from canon in some later chapters may occur.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no profits. That's all JK. All I have is the Potter Love.
Chapter 1: Prologue
The Past -
24th June, 1995
The Graveyard, Little Hangleton
Harry struggled against the ropes that bound him to the headstone, earning him a mild stinging hex from Wormtail. All rational thought seemed to have been driven out of his head by the events of that night, and for all his training, he had been reduced to a helpless fourteen year-old in the matter of seconds.
The pathetic Animagus sneered horribly at him, even though he was perspiring horribly at the prospect of what he had to do.
Harry's mind had gone blank, all he could think about was the fact that he needed to get the hell out of there, and that Cedric was dead.
Cedric was dead.
He refused to look at the corpse that lay a few feet away to his left, spread-eagled on the ground. His brain was still trying to deny what had already sunk in unconsciously.
Cedric had been killed.
He grimaced as Wormtail took his wand with a leer, stuffing it carelessly into his pocket. He watched as the fat Death Eater moved over to another corner of the graveyard, where a bundle rested atop a huge snake, which was curled up upon itself.
He forcibly took control of his feelings, even as horror rose within him as he realised what he would soon be witness to. Pettigrew had already started the ritual, a high-cold voice guiding him through the steps.
The same voice that had haunted Harry's dreams for years. Voldemort was returning, and it seemed to be Harry's last night on Earth.
He swallowed. No, he told himself. I'm not going down without a fight.
He kicked out and thrashed with his good leg as Wormtail made to cut his arm. Peter aimed a swift punch at his other leg, making him crumple in pain. With the swift descent of the knife in Peter's hand, his skin was pierced, and blood for the ritual drawn.
The physical shock seemed to drive him into an eerie calmness, and for the first time since he'd touched the Portkey, he began thinking rationally, clinically.
Ignoring the blood trickling down his forearm, he gave the slightest of smiles.
Wormtail had taken his wand forcibly from him, all 10-and-a-quarter inches of the hornbeam stick with the dragon hearstring core. The wand he'd nicked from Krum when he'd stunned the Bulgarian Champion.
He swore horribly under his breath as shadows began to coalesce over the cauldron, and the pain in his scar worsened. If only he had been quicker, this could have been avoided.
Older, wiser men would tell him it wasn't his fault – he had just witnessed the death of a friend, and for all his gory past, he was still a child in these matters.
Concentrating hard, he wiggled his wrist slightly, and his holly wand slowly slipped out. He cursed as it almost fell from his grasp, and he only managed to hold on to it by the base of the handle.
Making sure it was firmly lodged in his grasp, he took a deep breath, and whispered under his breath, 'Ferula'.
He winced as there was a sharp crack and tight bandages bound his leg. Thankfully, it was underneath his pants, and not over them (he swore, he should have considered the risk beforehand), and Wormtail had not noticed; the Death Eater was staring entranced at the cauldron.
Keeping one horrified eye on the cauldron, Harry whispered again, 'Finite Incantatem'.
The magically bound ropes slackened against his wrists, and he felt a twinge of relief as blood rushed to his wrists again. He had no time to dwell on the sensation, though, as he drew himself up, waiting in anticipation. He had to time this exactly right...
He almost lost grip of his wand when his scar split open in agony, all plans were driven out of his mind as he yelled in pain.
Voldemort had risen again.
And within fifteen minutes, Harry was surrounded by Voldemort's inner circle, as the Dark Lord himself mocked the teenage wizard much to the delight of his followers.
Had they been more alert, they would have seen that even though he was staring stoically forward, staunchly ignoring Voldemort's words (something which strangely pleased the Dark Lord to no end); his eyes were slightly glazed over, as he meditated, drawing in every ounce of his power.
"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."
Harry's pulse skyrocketed again, as he saw another opportunity to take the Dark Lord by surprise.
Voldemort's back was turned, as he walked to his end of the graveyard, drawing his wand.
Wormtail approached Harry, the silver glow from his new hand giving him an eerie look.
Without wasting a moment, without pondering about the honour of the situation, Harry muttered a quick 'Diffindo' and the ropes binding him fell away.
Wormtail paused, his mouth opening to form a gasp...
But Harry was already moving, his wand up and aimed at Voldemort's back –
The Present -
Grimmauld Place, London
Ginny Weasley sighed as she took in the tension inside the room. Sirius was glowering in his chair, while Professor Lupin looked no different, sitting next to him with a mutinous expression on his face.
She had been in for a shock when she'd arrived at the safehouse and found out that it was owned by notorious mass murderer Sirius Black – only to find out later that he was completely innocent of all his crimes, and that Harry had stumbled upon this fact in his third year and helped him escape, fighting off a hundred dementors in the process.
Of course he'd fight off a hundred dementors,she thought. He was Harry – unfailingly – brave – and – noble Potter, he'd killed a bloody basilisk for her when he was 12, hadn't he?
And yet, for all his heroics and his fame, he was spending his fifteenth birthday alone in the Muggle world, locked up in a house with his horrible Muggle relatives. And that was precisely why the two adults were in such a bad mood, because Dumbledore had warned them not to even write to or send Harry presents for his birthday due to security concerns, saying he'd tolerate no breaking of the rule. In fact, Sirius' owl had returned back after being turned back by the wards, and even though George had the brillant idea to use the Black family house –elf Kreacher, Sirius had gloomily said that Dumbledore had extracted a Wizard's Oath from Sirius not to send Kreacher out of the house under any circumstances. So Harry was without the company of his family and friends on his birthday, in fact, none of his friends had written to him this summer.
She scoffed slightly – friends, indeed.Harry's friendship with her brother Ron Weasley and the supposedly smartest witch of the generation, Hermione Granger, was the stuff of legends. Fighting trolls, saving stones that granted immortality, killing a 60 – foot long magical snake, and all their other exploits had earned them the title of the Golden Trio.
That is, while their friendship lasted.
Come Harry's third year, and Hermione's wish to study every sodding subject offered at Hogwarts, the cracks in their friendship had started showing. The three of them never hung around as much, what with Hermione spending nearly every waking moment in the library on the verge of a mental breakdown. Even after she'd dropped some subjects at the end of the year, the strain on their friendship had lasted. Earlier, when someone spoke of them, it was in one breath – they were HarryRonandHermione,but it was slowly becoming Harry, and Ron, and Hermione. Things had, however, gotten a bit better during the World Cup, and Harry had been happy to be back in the constant company of his friends, but it was too good to last.
The Triwizard Tournament had happened, and with it, their friendship had completely blown over. Ron, in his stupid fit of jealousy, had severed all ties with Harry, and to everyone's shock, Hermione had blamed him for entering as well, stating that it was the only logicalexplanation. Harry had taken the break in their friendship hard, and had completely retreated into himself, spending hours alone in the library or in his common room, hated and hounded by the entire school.
And as the competition heated up, he was seen to disappear for larger and larger periods of time – but nobody had bothered, because it was quite normal considering the strain he was under. And Harry had always been somewhat of a recluse, seeking the company of only his two ex- best friends above all others.
Naturally, he had wanted to be alone, getting over the break in their friendship. Some people had felt bad for him, but others...there had been whispers, especially among the Slytherins, debating how Harry would cope without his two sidekicks. It was commonly thought that the only reason Harry had remotely decent grades was because Hermione forced him to study, or else he was quite content to lounge around with her brother.
She had to admit - she'd been a bit afraid too, because Ron had always said how they could never get anywhere unless it was for Hermione's extensive knowledge. He'd said, quite rudely, that Harry would finally confess his mistake after not performing well in the First Task – and so he hadn't deigned to tell Harry about the Dragons, and Hermione had agreed, smugly saying that Harry shouldunderstand for once.
What Harry was supposed to understand, she'd never know, but she'd taken it upon herself to tell him about the beasts he would be facing, since Ron was being such an arse. When Sirius had come to know about Ron's treatment of Harry, he'd started giving Ron a cold shoulder and Professor Lupin had joined in too. Ron was uncomfortable, and so was Hermione when she'd arrived at Grimmauld Place because the Headmaster had deemed her unsafe, because of "prior ties with Harry Potter," as he'd put it. Hermione had been mildy put out, but she'd agreed readily, even though she had to cancel her holiday with her parents. Ginny suspected that her relationship with them wasn't quite so good, anyhow – her relationship with Ginny certainly wasn't, even though they were roommates, because Ginny'd told Harry about the dragons.
The thing was, she wasn't so sure that Harry had really needed that piece of information...
Ginny took a deep breath, as Harry waited expectantly before her, his green eyes boring into her. Fighting the urge to let the slight pink tinge in her cheeks bloom into a full blown blush, she told him, "I need to tell you something, Harry, about the First Task."
"Ron still not talking to me, then?" he asked, his face unreadable, and his eyes shuttered.
She forgot her discomfort for a moment, and scowled. "No he isn't, the great big prat! And neither is Hermione, for that matter!"
"Well, at least you believe me then," he said quietly, patting her hand gently, which tingled a bit.
She looked up to see his green eyes with a tiny spark in them, which oddly reminded her of Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes.
"Oh, Fred and George do as well," she said, trying not to blush at those eyes. She'd been working hard to get over her inane crush on Harry, and she was damned if he was going to wipe away all her progress with his brilliantly gorgeous green eyes!
"I know," he said lightly. "They told me. And you were about to tell me something too?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," she said quickly. For all her planning, she hadn't really decided how to tell him. How did one tell someone that he was about to face one of the most dangerous creatures in the world?
"The First Task, Harry – it's Dragons."
She'd expected him to pale in shock, curse his luck, or maybe even let out a yelp of shock and bring over Madam Pince to their corner of the Library – but she hadn't expected him to nod his head.
"Right, thanks, Ginny," he said. "I owe you one for that...thanks for telling me."
That was it? He was just told he'd be facing down a DRAGON, and he just thanked her mildy?
He spared her a look before walking off quietly, and she was a bit disarmed by the twinkle in his eyes.
"Wish me luck, then?" he said, with a small grin.
She just nodded dumbly, and blurted out a "good luck", which he acquiesced with another nod and a grin.
He turned to go, but before he left, he spun around for a second, and said, "Thanks, Ginny...for everything...and for believing me." And just like that, he was gone.
When Hermione had learnt of it later, she'd scolded Ginny, but even then, she'd been sceptical that he would find any use for the information.
"That's right," said Ron, his mouth full of chicken. "He'll probably forfeit or something. He won't be able to do much without our 'Mione!"
"Don't call me 'Mione, Ronald!" said Hermione shrilly, and they were off again, arguing like crazy.
Rolling her eyes, she'd tuned them out, instead turning to study Harry. He was bent downwards, looking down intently at his plate of food. Somehow, just somehow, she hoped that Harry would be able to show Hermione and Ron up – they deserved it for being such bad friends to him at such a time. She wished she'd be able to extend the hand of friendship to him, but Harry had never really noticed her (not through too much fault of his – he wasn't the one blushing and stuttering around him) – and nowadays, it seemed that he really preferred being alone.
Not that she hadn't tried – over the year, she and Harry would nod at each other in the passageways, and he'd incline his head and grin at her a bit, but he was always alone, she'd noticed, while his other friends were off somewhere together. And if she'd gather up some courage and try to approach him, he'd just vanish, off at the library, or somewhere where no one could find him.
But at that moment, at the dinner table, she wished that Harry would show up his two git ex – best friends who were currently arguing angrily opposite to her.
And did he show them up – the look on Ron and Hermione's face as Harry breezed through the First Task with the least injuries and the fastest time was priceless. Even the twins had been impressed by his performance, and as for her...she hadn't dream about much other than Harry for the next few weeks, and woken up with burning cheeks every time. Merlin, seeing his face as he outflew a dragon on a paltry broomstick, once again silencing every critic of his – it was worth a few dreams.
And so the legend of Harry Potter had begun once again, despite Malfoy's best attempts to discredit his name. Earlier, it had been the legend of the Trio, but now it was once again Harry Potter, the Boy – Who – Lived...whispers among the students of Hogwarts, and breathless sighs amongst the female students.
She had to admit, seeing him through the tournament – it was almost like seeing the Boy Who Lived whom she'd read about in her childhood storybooks, powerful and heroic – especially when he'd rescued Professor Lupin from the bottom of the Black Lake in record time during the second task, and then jumped right back into the to rescue Gabrielle Delacour when Fleur came back up without her. The attitude of the entirety of Beauxbatons had changed towards him after that, and the look on Gabrielle's face during dinner had reminded her uncomfortably of herself in the earlier stages of her crush, and she's done her hardest to ignore the similarities.
Of course, Fred and George singing "His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad" every time Gabrielle was around hadn't helped. Even so, she was interested to note that Lupin was the one Harry'd miss the most after his friends, but it made sense now, he was somewhat Harry's honorary Godfather, and they'd maintained contact after his third year.
But meanwhile, Harry's legend among the females had been established – and many a girl had begun eyeing him differently over the space of the year – and during the Yule Ball, he'd been fairly swamped by requests for a date. Of course, she'd been crushed when McGonagall had said that it was strictly for fourth years and above, and Harry'd ended up going with Parvati Patil, who said that Harry had been unfailingly polite and courteous to her throughout, and had even danced quite well with her.
As she idly picked at the remnants of her meal, she wondered what it'd be like if she'd gone to the Yule Ball with Harry instead of Parvati.
Come off it! Her mind screamed. She'd finally buried as much as she could of her feelings for Harry, and she was even writing back and forth with Michael Corner of Ravenclaw, and she felt certain that he'd be asking her out sometime this year.
As she got up from the dinner table, she thought that she was still unsure about that prospect. Somehow, it felt like cheating on Harry that way. She quickly pushed away that thought...she'd always feel for Harry, she decided, but he'd never notice her...
How could she not feel for him? Waking up on that cold floor of the Chamber to the sight of his emerald eyes, and then finding out that he'd risked life and limb, battled a Basilisk to save her life even though he barely knew her – and even forgiven her and assured her it was not her fault at all – she'd known then that she'd always love him, not for being the Boy – Who – Lived who she'd read and fantasized about, but Harry, just Harry, as he always insisted he was. She'd analyzed her feelings over and over again the summer after the Chamber, and come to the conclusion that she really was in love with him, whatever be her age or her maturity, because she was quite sure that no person she'd ever know could ever match up to him.
But it still hurt that she'd never stand a chance with him that way, however deep her feelings went...she still cursed herself for taking Hermione's advice and leaving Harry alone after her first year, to give him space and to "allow him to see her as herself instead of just her immature crush."
She cursed Hermione as well – she'd gone against her advice last year, and Harry was already friends with her.
Well, not really friends per se, but at least acquaintances – after last year, she didn't think Harry had any friends at all – and she cursed her brother and Hermione for betraying him like they had – and she felt terrible for Harry, who must be feeling lonely alone at his Uncle's house.
Of course, she'd gathered her courage and tried to write to Harry, but her efforts had been in vain – Dumbledore's orders- apparently, Harry was not to be written to or disturbed.
"Of course," she spat out to no one in particular, "after being alone and friendless all year, and then watching his schoolmate die before his eyes, leaving him alone is the best idea!"
A door opened next to her, and she turned around to find Sirius and Remus (as he insisted the children call him) looking down at her, slight smiles on their faces.
"Thinking about my godson then, Miss Weasley?" asked Sirius, his gray eyes shining with mischief, making him look almost ten years younger.
"Indeed," came a voice from behind, and she found Fred and George at the top of the staircase – it seemed that they had been coming up behind her, and had heard her outburst too – it seemed everybody in the bloody building had!
"She does have an unhealthy obsession with the Boy – Who – Lived," said Fred.
"Slayer of Basilisks and rescuers of red haired princesses," continued George –
"Conquerer of a hundred Dementors –"
"Youngest Triwizard Champion – "
"Youngest Seeker in a century – "
"Is there anything he hasn't done, the man?"
"Oh I don't know," said Ginny in a low, controlled voice, now fingering her wand and eyeing the twins dangerously, who promptly shut up. "He wouldn't have given a thousand galleons to a couple of dunderheads to spend on their joke shop, would he?" the twins blanched, and she was sure that her suspicions were correct, but she continued anyway, "two dunderheads who are dangerously close to losing their bollocks," she said idly.
Behind her, the two adults burst out laughing. "Oh Merlin!" said Sirius, chuckling heavily. "She's exactly like her! He doesn't stand a chance, Moony, I'm changing my bets to her!"
"Oh no," said Remus mildly, his eyes twinkling as well. "That Asian girl never stood a chance, anyway, you were only rooting for her because of her assets...I'd said all along that it'd be someone like her – it's been that way for a long time, it was the only choice – "
"Excuse me," interjected the twins –
"But might we know –"
"What in the blazes you're talking about?"
"Aah, you see," said Lupin, straightening up, and eyeing Ginny. "You see, Miss Weasley here reminds us another redhead we used to know –"
"Who went by the name of Lily Potter," said Sirius, "and was one of the best persons I have ever known – and she was a lot like you – redheaded, with a nice temper, feisty, and brilliant with a wand –"
"I remind you of Harry's mother?" asked Ginny incredulously. "The Lily Potter?"
Lily was somewhat of a legend amongst the Order Members – every person who reminisced about the old days would speak about what a brilliant person she was – compassionate, with a kind word for everyone, and near – prodigious skill with a wand. Sirius had recounted the story of how Harry had driven off a hundred Dementors to save him, and had likened Harry's behaviour to that of Lily's and he'd glowed with pride when the other members had agreed – and then McGonagall had told the story of Harry and the Chamber of Secrets as Harry had recounted in her office – and it had garnered similar statements.
Even Mad – Eye Moody had said that only Lily's son would risk life and limb to rescue someone who he barely knew, simply because it had to be done. Killing a basilisk was apparently not an easy task, and Harry was only the second wizard in history to succeed in this task, something that had also built him an enormous reputation amongst the Order, many of whose members were eager to meet him, especially after some of them had seen him during the Triwizard Tournament.
Of course, she'd understood how Harry was like that – he was unfailingly kind and polite to everyone, and he did have a rather heroic streak in him, but her?
"I'm not as powerful as her, or as skilled," she said humbly, waving off the praise.
"Oh, she's as modest too," said Sirius, shaking his head.
"Thank goodness Harry inherited that trait too, because James' arrogance got on even my nerves sometimes," said Lupin.
"I don't know about skill," snorted Fred –
"But she definitely has the power," said George, an ominous look on his face.
"Have you seen her Bat – Bogey Hex?" asked Fred, giving a fake shudder.
"Oh I don't know about that," said Professor Lupin, "but I remember her disarming hex – blew an arm off my practice dummy, if I remember correctly. Only person who ever demonstrated that power and skill at her age was Harry..."
"Harrikins?" asked George.
"I beg to differ," said Fred mildly –
"But Harry's grades are nothing to really write home about – "
"And the teachers don't exactly gush with praise about his spellwork –"
"I swear Flitwick nearly pissed himself praising Ginny's abilities at Charms –"
"Well excuse me while I disagree," said Sirius hotly, who seemed miffed that the twins were downplaying his Godson's abilities –
"Sirius," said Remus mildly. "You have to remember when to keep silent –" he chided, "or are you so eager to lose your bet?"
"But come on, Moony, we can tell them! Harry told us he trusted the three of them!" whined Sirius. "Not like their idiot brother!" he said darkly, but then added a hasty "No offence."
"None taken," said Ginny, while the twins nodded. "We know our brother's a git – but what are you talking about?"
Remus and Sirius exchanged a quick look, and then Remus said, "We can't really tell you, but you'll see for yourself in some time, I think –"
"Oh yes," said Sirius eagerly, "I'm telling you, it'll be this year itself –"
"Not a chance, Sirius," said Remus, "It has to be after the OWLs –"
"Excuse me –"
"But would you please tell us –"
"What in the hell you're talking about?" chanted the twins.
"Just a little bet we have, you see," said Sirius coolly.
"What bet?" asked George.
"About the big reveal," said Remus, just as coolly.
"Big Reveal?" asked Ginny, mystified. "What big reveal?"
"You'll see when the time comes," replied Remus. "In fact, I think you'll quite enjoy it," he finished with a grin.
"But what does this revelation have to do with Harry?"
"Everything," was the cyptic answer, but before he could elaborate, there was a crack! And suddenly, standing on the landing was a house – elf, with large tennis ball shaped eyes and floppy ears. Ginny bit back a startled scream -
Wordlessly, the elf handed Sirius a piece of paper, and then he disapparated away immediately with another loud crack.
"What in the blazes was that?" asked George.
Silently, Sirius handed over the paper to her, a feral grin on his features.
The twins bent over her shoulder to read what was unmistakeably written in Harry's scrawl, "Not do magic? Stay in the house?! He gets it tonight, Sirius!"
It seemed that Harry had been in a towering temper when he'd been scribbling the note, because the writing was shaky and unstable.
"What does this mean?" asked Ginny, a bit apprehensively. "Who gets it tonight?"
"It means," said Sirius, grinning, "that you should get your popcorn ready and wait in the Hall. And as to who...why, that's the best part!"
At the same time, there was a shout from downstairs, "Emergency Order Meeting! Code Red! Harry's been attacked by Dementors!"
Ginny and the twins gasped, and Sirius and Remus' face darkened.
"Oh I will enjoy this," said Remus dangerously as he made his way downstairs with Sirius. "Albus told us that Harry had to stay at Privet Drive alone on his birthday for security purposes – and instead he ends up facing Dementors!"
"Ten Galleons that he sets something on fire?" asked Sirius eagerly.
"Scratch that," countered Remus, "I'llpay him ten galleons if he can get rid of your Mum's portrait!"
"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left testicle is going on?" howled Fred, "Harry gets attacked by Dementors, the two of you are gambling, and there's going to be an explosion, and nobody's telling us anything! I wanna watch stuff explode!"
They'd arrived at the ground floor, and just before the two adults made their way into the kitchen, where several other wizards were gathering, Sirius turned and said, "Then you definitely shouldn't miss this. Like I said, be ready with some food, because this will be the best drama you'll see in months –"
And with that cryptic statement, the two of them were gone, and Mrs. Weasley was the last person to enter the kitchen, locking it behind her and telling the children to go up and stay in their rooms.
And Ginny turned to face the twins, and was a bit surprised to find them holding armfuls of candy. "Wait, where did you get all that?"
"Trade secret, Gin–gin," began Fred, but shut up at the expression on her face. "Er, I don't know about you, but I'm sticking around to watch what the two of them were on about...my Prankster senses are going off the charts!"
George nodded fervently, showing that he was in agreement with his twins.
"Well, then," said Ginny, not being able to make too much sense of the entire matter, but hoping that it'd resolve itself in some time, "break out some Butterbeer while we wait."
They didn't have to wait very long before the meeting was interrupted, though.
And the Future...
18th June, 1996
The Death Chamber, Department of Mysteries
Ministry of Magic, London
Harry's world seemed to tilt on its axis and fall upside down, as he struggled to take in the situation, his heart racing.
The Veil seemed to be fluttering innocently in the centre of the Chamber, as if it just hadn't shattered his entire life.
And then his anger took over; blind, raw emotion coursed through him as he set his eyes upon the witch who was still cackling in victory.
All warnings forgotten, he delved into himself.
They were waiting, as always, moving in tandem, keeping the balance.
Only he wasn't interested in bloody balance anymore.
Taking a short breath, he whispered the two forbidden words.
It was like somebody had kick-started the spinning, and the two forces seemed to blur into one as they picked up speed at an alarming rate.
Power, raw power seized Harry's mind as all rational thought was wiped from his mind, and all that was left was anger.
A haze seemed to settle over the world around him, and the dark haired wizard snarled –
Harry went nuclear.
A/N: Edited as of 15/10/2012. And much cooler, I think!