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Unsung Hero by Meghanreviews
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Unsung Hero

Meghanreviews

Dumbledore coughed gruffly into a handkerchief, dabbing at his large red nose when he was through. At Harry's arrival he immediately stuffed it back into his robes and beckoned for Harry to join him. Reluctantly Harry moved forward, not needing the knowing little jab from behind as Professor Flitwick crossed the threshold.

"Harry," Dumbledore called cheerfully.

Suspicious, Harry narrowed his gaze. "I could keep respectfully quiet or copy Snape and be stoic but I think we're beyond that. What do you want and speak plainly or I'll turn right around and leave, Flitwick or no Flitwick."

"Ah," he said sadly, coughing roughly. "So that is where we stand."

Harry stood by passively, not amused. "Voldemort got you then?"

"Failed to get me," Dumbledore corrected.

"Well he clipped you good for not getting you. Luna tells me it was an asphyxiation curse cast improperly."

"No, it was cast properly."

Harry blinked. "Oh?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Voldemort, who fears death, botched the spell on purpose. I will die of it that is for certain. He wants me to see my death approaching and fear it like he does. It's his way of making me fallible. Healer Pomfrey is doing all in her considerable powers to detain the evitable. But I won't fear my death, so his plan failed."

"Not if it kills you," Harry reminded. "With you dead the war will not be contained in Britain. Part of the reason you were elected to Chief Mugwamp of the International Confederation of Wizardry was to prevent another wizard war from escaping the boundaries of its origins. It wouldn't do for Voldemort to unite his British forces with the remaining Germans and Russians leftover from the last war."

"That would be bad indeed," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling. "I've been grooming Daniel to take over my position. I just didn't think he'd have to do that for a few more decades."

Harry let out a bark of laughter. "Daniel? Contain Voldemort? About as likely as him defeating the half-blood bastard. You still think he's the Boy-Who-Lived even after his confession?"

"No," Dumbledore replied. "I don't. Professor Snape used Veritaserum to confirm all that he said."

"Something you should have done ages ago," Harry reminded.

Dumbledore nodded weakly, coughing loudly into his handkerchief. "You're right of course, Harry. I fear I am too late in correcting my mistakes."

"Yeah, one misspoken sentence from you and I've lived my entire childhood shunned by my parents, hated by my brother, treated like a leper by my peers in school, and all but ignored by my professors, and completely looked over by everybody else. I would say you couldn't fix anything even if you tried."

"It's never too late, Harry," Dumbledore replied.

"Oh?" Harry scoffed. "I can see that by calling me Harry you realize my father is disowning me. I am no longer a Potter; I am not longer a Hogwarts student. I am not a lot of things."

Dumbledore laid his head back against the pillows. "You hate me Harry, I see that, but there are things we must discuss. Private things."

"Voldemort related things?" Harry supplied, sparing a glance at Flitwick. "No thanks. I know more and have done more than you could possibly comprehend and as for fighting against him?" Harry shrugged. "Flitwick is training me in my dueling. It's helping even if it doesn't look like it. I've been beaten more oft in training than against Voldemort. I just work better on my feet in the midst of a duel. No planning, if you know what I mean. I think it's the adrenaline buzz."

"I could also help you," Dumbledore offered.

"What for?" Harry asked, and then more plainly. "How? You're laid out, there's no way you could put up a decent fight now. Unless you've been hiding a deep hereto unheard of well of wordless talent and even then it would have to be wandless so you wouldn't over exert yourself. I win by running circles around you."

"There's always transfiguration for dueling and N.E.W.T.S."

Harry shook his head. "It won't work. I don't trust you or your motives. Why help me now--except of course that Daniel confessed making all his exploits my own and thus for giving you even greater hope at defeating Voldemort. I wouldn't do it except I foiled Tom on such a deeply personal level that he's coming after me with a vengeance. I've met with him in person three times since dropping school. If he didn't have it out for me before, killing his familiar certainly did it."

"You killed Nagini?" Dumbledore asked hopefully, rising up off the pillows.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "If I said I did it, then I did it. In fact my own familiar ate her."

"A snake?" Dumbledore asked faintly.

"A magical snake," Harry confirmed. "An occamy to be precise. I speak Parseltongue remember? This shouldn't be so surprising."

"Still Filius has told me about your studies and the work ethic you put into them. I can grant you access to Hogwarts library and potion labs."

"I will take you up on a permanent all-access library pass," Harry replied with a wry twist of lips. "This doesn't make us friends and you certainly won't be welcome to any trips to the library that I do make."

"Isn't there some way that you could trust me?"

Harry stared hard at Dumbledore. "Why did you make such a rash declaration that Daniel was the Boy-Who-Lived? Why did you proceed to ignore me ever since that day? And why did you feel it necessary to tell the professors I was a bad egg from the get-go?"

When Dumbledore didn't answer Harry sneered. "That's what I thought. Thanks for the use of the castle's library, I must be going. Lessons and all. Can't have Snape riding my arse even more than he already is. Twelve feet of parchment on the differences between my improved potion and the original; for every potion I've tampered with! Greasy git."

Harry spun around ignoring a flustered Dumbledore and headed for Flitwick when a hesitant voice called out his name. Harry stumbled and immediately cursed himself for his reaction. Despite talking with Luna he wasn't prepared to see her again. Slowly, however, he turned and faced her.

"Hermione," he greeted stiffly.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy as if she'd been crying recently. She had appeared from behind the door to Madam Pomfrey's office. She stood there clutching at the doorjamb for support, lightly swaying on her feet. He frowned at her appearance, instantly worried and concerned.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted, her frizzy hair trembling violently. "I didn't mean it! I swear!"

Harry glanced at Flitwick and Dumbledore, more than ever aware of their presence as they watched silently. "I know," he finally said. "Luna made me see--"

"Luna!" Hermione wailed, hiccupping violently as she gulped in air.

"Yes, Luna," Harry reiterated. "She made me see things clearer."

She trembled and bristled and deflated all in a matter of seconds. "I might have known."

Harry shook his head. "She's a good friend," he reminded, adding, "for both of us."

Hermione looked miserable but nodded.

"I still need time."

Hermione's eyes glistened. "How much?"

Uncomfortable Harry shuffled his feet. "However much it takes."

"Try not to take too long," she begged. "I can't stand it."

"I know," Harry said wretchedly, wishing he could trust the love she offered in her gaze. "I can't stand it either."

But he didn't cross the room and sweep her into his arms. He didn't end the pain for both of them, instead he exited the infirmary feeling like a two-ton hippogriff had slammed into his ribcage and left him short of breath.

---

Oorjit broke through Harry's mental athletics with his basilisk form late in the evening. Opening his eyes Harry glanced down imperiously and waited for the occamy to explain the interruption. Oorjit averted his eyes and bowed, hankering low to the floor. Not particularly hard for the snake-bird to do but it was always a good move when Harry came from a session with his basilisk form. The King was always more present and Harry's easygoing affability less so under the domineering mindset.

§Well?§ Harry drawled, annoyed.

§Milord, there are some night walkers here to see you.§

Harry looked intrigued, his green eyes flashing. §Vampires?§

§Yes, Milord.§

§Very well, send them in,§ Harry said, lounging backwards onto a throne that hadn't been there a moment ago.

A few moments later a couple of fresh newbies and an old master shuffled through the doorway into the transformed greeting room. The old master vampire took in a single appraising glance of Harry's attire, which along with the room had drastically changed into something far more in the realm of a king's grandeur while still being subdued and not overly pompous.

"My Lord," the vampire began respectfully. "On behalf of Persephone's Night Walkers welcome. Welcome at last to our ranks."

"You are a little late to be welcoming me. I met with the centaurs a month ago."

The master glowered. "Respectfully my lord, they were a good deal closer and could travel by day or night while our contingent was restricted severely."

"Ah, yes," Harry agreed. With a showy wave of his hand he conjured the vampire a cushiony seat, leaving the minions to stand by uncertainly. "Many thanks for your gracious welcome. Now, what news does your council bring?"

"My mistress has an overture for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow and waved commandingly. "Indeed. Shall I hear it or will I be offended at the paltry offer she wishes to bestow?"

"Persephone would never think so lowly of you, Serpent King, to offer such disrespect."

"Good," Harry nodded. "What is the offer?"

"In an offer of goodwill she is willing to tell you, my lord, of the prophecy of the King of Serpents told by our vampire seer Cassidy. Then for the allegiance between you and her, she offers herself and her vampires to further your cause against the Great Usurper for the price of throwing your impressive political weight behind some new vampire statures."

Harry pondered for a minute. "Generous. Does your mistress expect my support before or after I've received hers?"

"Both, my lord," the vampire answered readily. "If perhaps the statures push forward faster than we dare hope, then sooner. Otherwise, after. For now she's secure in the knowledge that when you speak you don't renege on your promises."

Harry gestured Oorjit forward. §Usually snakes and vampires are enemies, though not to such a degree as the spiders. What say you on the matter?§

Oorjit surprised, bowed low. §With respect, your majesty, I should not have such say in these matters.§

§Nonetheless, I respect your opinion. Share it with me.§

Oorjit paused in thought. §On the surface it seems like a perfect offer. Below that I am certain more is being offered than we know. I do not know of Persephone, or of her will or disposition. She is not active where I was captured and I haven't heard of her here in Britain.§

§So she is paltry?§

§Not, necessarily,§ Oorjit hedged. §Just unheard of until now. She may be quite renown in the vampire culture. She might have come out of the woodwork because of Voldemort's actions. She might agree with them. She might not. We know nothing of her, but allies are scarce.§

"Tell me of this prophecy of which you speak," Harry demanded, switching tongues.

The master inclined his head. "The Prophecy of the Serpent King was thought to have come true many moons ago when Voldemort first rose to power. Now, knowing what you are, having felt you come to life in Germany, the most of the vampires know better. It is said that aligning ourselves with the Serpent King will bring us great tidings. It is hoped at least. Cassidy, our seer, has proclaimed that The Serpent King will rise up from the wizards infusing his dying realm with great power and prosperity. Times though will not all be easy for the Serpent King will face the Great Usurper--fate rests in the final battle on how destiny will turn. All in a blink of an eye."

Harry sat back. "You have given me much thought. Tell your mistress, this tiding of goodwill was happily and gratefully received. Upon my word, she will have my answer in a week. I will send a snake to her if the answer is no and two snakes if the answer is yes. Where shall I send my servants?"

"She will be in resting in London. Many to feast on there for our Kiss."

Harry stood and the vampire copied him. "Good. Good." Harry said, shaking the vampires hand. "Now if you'll be so kind, my hours are not the same as yours and I must retire."

---

At the end of the week Harry sent two snakes to Persephone. They traveled down by the Knight Bus, one momentarily transfigured to look humanoid if one didn't look to close. Draping garments completed the disguise and as long as his servant didn't speak to Stan Shunpike should get safely to London with the other wrapped up beneath the cloak. Hedwig would find them the next day and fly them back. Not that his familiar or the snakes were happy with that part of the plan but it was expedient and Harry willed it so.

After that meeting, Harry took to wearing the Gryffindor garter all the time. It made him grumpy and surly, as if the soul inside was leaking into his personality. Luna assured him it was because he'd been Hermioneless for so long that his soul was starting to grow ill tempered and surly without hers nearby to brush up against. Harry was starting to believe she was right.

The last plover piece as he was beginning to refer to the fragments of Voldemort's soul trapped inside inanimate objects was nowhere to be found. Even if he had figured it out, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to go and retrieve it. Having the garter around was more than enough.

His agitation flowed over to his lessons. Snape was a downright bastard, taking every opportunity to be a foul git. He knew it would happen, the man was simply too enamored with himself and his own childhood traumas to grow up. Harry had endured it with gritted teeth until he had exploded on poor Professor Flitwick during a dueling session. Flitwick was still recovering in the hospital wing from spell damage. Harry felt like a heel.

Even his snakes were getting worst from him than their fair share. Oorjit had stopped talking to him and if Hedwig hadn't been so sadistically delighted by that fact she would be snubbing Harry too for his ill treatment of her these past two weeks. In short, Harry's miserable behavior was getting to everyone except Luna, even mild mannered Professor Babbling.

It didn't help Harry that in those two weeks Voldemort had been on a rampage. Two assassin snakes were caught, captured, and converted to see the truth of their true Lord and Master and sent back to Voldemort. The Dark Lord was sure to hate his presents and would probably kill them. Harry barely felt a twinge of his conscious at the idea.

St. Mungo's had been attacked and Neville Longbottoms' parents were kidnapped. Vampires were hunting in the open again. It was like the Dark Ages all over again. Werewolves snuck in and attacked Hogsmeade on the full moon six days ago. Several were bitten, including one child. Harry blamed himself for the young boy's condition. He should have stopped them, but he'd been asleep unawares. Giants were clobbering Blackpool, Exter, and Norwich for purposes Harry couldn't fathom. Teams of Aurors were tasked with trying to subdue the large menaces and with obliviating the general populace--focusing heavily on muggle news crews.

Even with a fully equipped Oblivation team working around the clock the muggles were getting suspicious. Muggle attacks were rising. The London Underground had been hit by a Death Eater raid. Bridges were being knocked out, causing several deaths. Dementors were running amok, several hundred kissed already and the numbers were rising.

Voldemort was back in full force and the attack on the Somerset coastline was nothing compared to what he was doing now. Basilbury and Liverford were lucky to have been hit when Voldemort was only mildly motivated. Since Harry's little duel with the wanker the Dark Lord had motivation in spades. Harry was trying to focus on his training, but being in Britain made that hard.

He could hear people in Hogsmeade pointing and talking with their neighbors. He could read the papers; the Daily Prophet, Nothumberland Soothsayer, Centaur Vision, the Weekly Mirror, Hogsmeade Observer and the Evening Oracle. He was getting harsh reviews everywhere he went. Magazines like the Quibbler were more understanding though several of them including Witch Weekly questioned his Boy-Who-Lived status and declared him the anti-hero.

It made him mad. How could they honestly expect him to want to save their wretched little lives when they first ignored him and then badmouthed him second? Were they all that delusional? Did they really think he was going to drop everything for them? Apparently they were, he thought with disgust tossing down another rubbish paper into the fire.

He ran his hand over his eyes and sighed, contemplating taking off the garter just so he could have a break from the malevolent spirit inside. Just as he was reaching for it, Hedwig burst through the open window in a splash of white feathers. Harry caught her as she crashed headlong into him, knocking him back several feet.

"Hedwig!" he cried, fighting with her to straighten out her limbs and feathers.

She hooted urgently and squabbled at his fingers, nipping and biting until he was cursing her a blue streak.

"Hold still will you! I'll get the damn letter off!"

Her talons gripped tighter into his wrist, drawing blood. Harry winced and glowered as he pulled the letter off, snapping the string that had hastily tied it. Hedwig hopped up to his shoulder and started tugging on his hair. He swatted absently as her as he opened the letter.

Dread filled his stomach at the words written in Dumbledore's handwriting. Dropping the letter Harry hit the secret passageway at a dead run, barking orders at Oorjit and the others as he hurried down the narrow steps. Oorjit caught up with him and they raced to Hogwarts.

"What's happening?" Oorjit demanded as he navigated the narrow corridor and low ceilings.

"Hermione's in trouble!" Harry shouted tersely, whipping out his wand and casting an enlargement charm on the passageway. The power of the spell staggered him but Harry quickly straightened and ran forward at a break neck speed.

"How?"

"Dumbledore thinks his family mirror was a Horcrux, unbeknownst to him. Hermione was examining it for an extra credit project and then when she didn't show up for meals at the Great Hall for two days, he got worried."

"You mean she's been trapped by a Horcrux for two days already?"

"Yes!" Harry growled. "We have to hurry! There's no time to spare. After the locket she has to be more vulnerable to him. I can't risk loosing her."

Oorjit wheezed, dragging in rapid breaths as he and Harry hurtled to a stop. Harry quickly grabbed the fallen limb and struck the knot stopping the Whomping Willow's angry movements. They hurried outside and sprinted up the lawn. Dumbledore was there at the entrance and beckoned them inside as Harry leapt up the stairs.

"Where is she?" he growled, walking briskly beside Dumbledore. "What happened?"

"Hermione's down here," Dumbledore said calmly, indicating the lower floors.

Harry ran down the steps bursting into the corridor for the dungeons, forced to wait impatiently as Dumbledore eased his way down the stairs, pausing to gasp for breath several times. Irritated at the delay, Harry waved his wand and floated Dumbledore down the rest of the way.

"Which door?"

"Third on the left--there's something you should know about the mirror."

Harry stopped outside the door, Oorjit ran into him.

"The mirror belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw herself. She did the charm work on it herself. The mirror is--"

"Invaluable, don't break it," Harry finished, twisting the door open and stepping inside.

Two mirrors stood side by side, both magnificent, both as tall as a classroom ceiling. One stood on two clawed feet with an inscription carved around the top. Harry glanced at the mirror writing and inverted the text in his head; "I show not your face but your heart's desire." The other one hung inside an intricate oval frame. The mirror writing there read, "I show not your face but the absolute truth of yourself." Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

Dumbledore entered and waved vaguely. "I looked in the one on the left, hoping to find her and it showed me the mirror on the right. I had no idea the Mirror of Felsrenni was a Horcrux. I don't see how it is possible. Voldemort never had access to it, not even when he visited the castle for a job all those years ago. I thought then he was after the Hat or the Sword of Gryffindor."

"Not your family heirlooms?" Harry returned archly. He stepped toward the second mirror and examined it.

A wave of anxious energy emanated from it and Harry knew it was a Horcrux. Touching it, he felt a double zing. One from the mirror and the other from the garter wrapped around his thigh. He flattened his palm on the wood and studied his reflection.

He felt silly staring at his reflection when nothing happened. His hair was black with the exception of his red stripe, and his eyes were green, standing out starkly in the dimness of the room. He searched in his reflection the truth.

Rowena had created this mirror to tell the viewer the pure unadulterated truth of themself. Harry had no clue on how it worked. He supposed Hermione had been trying to deduce the process which was more subtle than Erised. He glanced back at Dumbledore.

"Leave us," he demanded. "I'll save her."

Dumbledore looked like he was going to stop him but coughed loudly. "I'll wait outside," he managed between coughs and stepped back over the threshold.

Harry turned back to the mirror. This was the final Horcrux, and Hermione was trapped inside it. How was he going to get to her? He didn't even know how it worked. Then he remember something Luna said in the last two weeks, "When you're unsure look hard into the face of truth."

It had made no sense then. Nothing Luna said ever made sense until it suddenly did. The second to last of his Herculean efforts to stop the madness of his life and to gain some peace was in breaking the curse on this mirror. What peace he could find after all the madness he didn't know, but he wanted Hermione. Needed her. It was time to tell her that and to do so he'd find the way to save her.

For how long Harry stood there trapped in his own reminiscing, he did not know. But suddenly a flash of red caught his attention. In the dim dark room that glowed more purple than any other color it was startling. Harry stared hard at the mirror's surface and took a fortifying breath.

Look at me…

Harry looked up at the mirror, obeying the command, his body tensing, knowing the fight was about to begin. Oorjit, who sat curled in a corner, lifted his head, as if he too heard the voice.

It whispered around the edges of Harry's thoughts… coming nearer to the surface.

You're looking for the king…

Harry saw the flash of red again. It came from his eyes in the mirror. He gripped his wand tighter and widened his stance. This was it… Voldemort was flashing across the surface, rippling its contours.

That would be me…

"In your dreams," Harry scoffed, feeling the scales of his form shift to the surface, gleaming distinctly in the dim light.

No… it is me, Daniel…

The red patch of hair in his reflection disappeared. The emerald eyes mocked him as the all too familiar smirk of his brother appeared on his reflection.

I am the king and you know it Harry…

"You're wrong!"

Am I? You don't really object to me being king… you object to being found inadequate… again…

"The only one inadequate here is you," Harry sneered, no longer caring if he was speaking with his brother or Voldemort inside the mirror.

After all I am the twin the world loves… even now after you've destroyed my reputation they're hungering after me, not you… they want a real hero…

Harry scoffed. "You? A hero? Not bloody likely. You were the worst of pretenders."

But I pandered to the press… I gave them the stories they hungered for of glory and immortality and defying the greatest of enemies… to them I was every bit the hero I said I was… I still am because you hide… they're starting to wonder… they're starting to itch…

"They've got two hands, they can scratch themselves. They don't need me to do it and anyone foolish enough to listen to your lies after all that has happened is a sheep and a lickspittle, hardly a threat to my ego."

And what an ego… to throw away the only thing you love…

The voice echoed contemptuously in Harry's ears.

All because of little old me. What were you afraid of? That she would find me the better choice after all?

"Stop it," Harry growled, flicking his wand sending a glass cutter to the mirror. It bounced off the surface as if it were made out of rubber.

Because I am, brother… I am the better choice. I am KING!

"Like hell you are. She never even looked at you before. You couldn't charm her without Voldemort's help. So who's the bigger loser?"

And what about all those times when she went off with me before the Horcrux came to her possession. Surely you don't think I forced her then do you?

"That was patrol duty, nothing more."

You don't sound sure there brother. Have I got you looking back? My, my, we are feeling inferior now aren't we?

"Lies!" Harry shouted, throwing a smashing hex at the surface.

The red eyes flickered in amusement on the other side. His mouth opened and spoke hatefully the things he did not wish to hear.

Then of course there was all those strange little gatherings between her and Dumbledore. He put her on the idea of dating you, spinning it so it felt like Headgirl duties. She was feeding him information on you, that's how he kept tabs on everything you were doing. She didn't have a secret when it came to you. Sang like a canary she did…

Harry stared hard at the reflection, unwanted images flying up in his mind's eye. All those strange little tête-à-têtes, all the hemming and side stepping. Against his better judgment he started to believe, feeling hurt and betrayed all over again.

§My Lord,§ Oorjit called out hesitantly uncoiling and slithering closer. §My Lord, calm yourself. Your eyes are flashing red.§

Harry breathed threw his nose deeply, staring coldly at his reflection. "I am sure it is all a coincidence."

So serious… my, my aren't we full of false convictions.

"Stop these games Voldemort, or should I say Tom?"

Don't you dare presume to call me by my filthy muggle father's name.

"Oh dear," Harry simpered. "It seems I've hit a nerve."

Tom Riddle was nothing and in the end I made sure he stayed that way. You… you are nothing as well and I will see that you too stay that way.

The red eyes in Harry's reflection jumped forward. Unprepared for the soul's leap from its protective shell, Harry didn't counteract. Unspeakable agony erupted through Harry as the seventh of Voldemort's soul entered him. Fiery red heat seared his vision. Harry screamed.

º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 44º«««º»»»º