An Eclectic Catalogue of Ideas

Harry lay on the ground panting, trying to ignore the pain that wracked his body. Around him, men laughed. He could see Cedric's body in the distance. It was his fault that Cedric died. If he'd not agreed to a Hogwarts victory, the other boy would still be alive. Suddenly, he heard Voldemort hiss once more, "Crucio!" and Harry bit his lip until it bled, refusing to scream.

Fifteen seconds later, fifteen seconds that felt like an eternity, the Torture Curse faded. "Harry, Harry, Harry," Voldemort said smoothly. "Why do you resist? You will die here, why don't you let go? Scream for me, and it'll be over."

Harry's response was a laugh. "Because I refuse to give in to someone like you. You're just a coward. Tough man, torturing a fourteen-year-old. That shows how powerful you are."

"You dare, boy? You will know your place. Bow to your better! Imperio!"

Harry heard the voice repeating the command in his head, over and over again. Harry snarled, "Never! You may kill me, but I will not bow to you." Slowly, Harry's hand crept towards his wand on the ground and yanked it upwards towards the red-eyed monstrosity of a man before him.

"Confrigo!"

"Avada Kedavara!"

As the spells streaked forward, their paths connected and Harry heard the trilling of phoenix song, as a glowing golden dome formed over both him and Voldemort.

"Don't interfere!" snarled Voldemort to the watchers.

A glowing bead of light appeared between them where the spells had touched, and it slowly began to make its way towards Harry. Something in Harry told him that if it reached him, it would be bad.

Will firming, Harry began to push, and the light slowed, before it began to make its way back to Voldemort. It became harder to manage as the glowing light neared the other man until it stopped only a few feet away from Voldemort.

Suddenly, the light began to make its way towards Harry again in starts and stops, and Harry focused, trying to force it back again. It slowed and stopped. He and Voldemort were locked in a contest of will and magic.

Harry's entire body burned with pain from the Torture Curse but that very pain was a resource. Pain was fuel. He pushed harder, but it didn't seem to be enough. He needed something more. He wasn't afraid to die. But he would not die here. He would not let his parents' deaths be in vain.

Something within Harry responded.

It was like a dam within him burst. His power swelled, and the bead began to move towards Voldemort once more. He pulled harder on his magic. He felt a burning sensation at his brow, and a soft, rasping cry could be heard woven into the phoenix song and he felt the magic inside him surge as it grew stronger. Suddenly, the light rushed towards Voldemort and struck his wand. Glowing figures began to emerge.

Cedric was first, "Hey, Harry. They're coming, just hold on."

More appeared from the wand as Voldemort's wand screeched as if in pain.

An old man, who called to him, "Don't give up, lad!"

A middle-aged woman, "You can do it!"

Finally, two figures. His mum and dad. "We're so proud of you, son," James said.

"When I tell you to," Lily said, "Break the connection. Then go to the young man's body and grab it and then summon the portkey."

The glowing figures surged towards Voldemort, who was screaming in rage. Lily called, "Now!" With that, Harry darted towards Cedric. Having a sudden thought, he lifted his wand towards the figures who had laughed at him, taunted him; he channelled as much magic as he could into the spell as he barked, "Bombarda Maxima" As the spell streaked outwards, he touched Cedric with one hand then lifted his other without really thinking about it and the cup flew towards him.

"Tell my parents I love them," came Cedric's voice.

And then, even as he felt the portkey activate, his spell exploded cataclysmically among the Death Eaters.

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Harry felt himself slam into the ground, tripping to nearly fall onto his face and landing in the grass. All of his breath seemed to be knocked out of him, and he felt dizzy, his mind whirling. He felt strangely dizzy.

Slowly, he opened his eyes as he heard a voice calling.

"Harry! Harry!"

Turning, Harry saw Dumbledore kneeling beside him. "Are you all right, Harry? What happened?"

"The cup was a portkey. Took me to a graveyard somewhere." Harry tried to rise and staggered. "V-Voldemort's back."

"What happened, Potter?" said a gravelly voice, and Harry turned to glance at Moody. He said, "Took my blood. Said something like blood of the father, flesh of the servant, and blood of the enemy." Suddenly, Harry frowned. Something was wrong. He felt something strange from Moody.

Harry heard screams in the distance, people crying out, "Diggory's dead!"

Cornelius Fudge repeated these words, staring down at the body. "Let go of him, Potter."

Harry clung to Cedric's arm, taking a breath. "He wanted me to bring him back, to tell his parents he loved them." He shuddered and looked right at Fudge. "He's back. Voldemort's back."

"He is not! The boy is obviously hysterical," Fudge began to state, moving away quickly, looking around as if panicked.

"Harry," Dumbledore murmured, "It's all right."

"I'll take him to the Infirmary," said Moody.

"No, I'd prefer to--" Dumbledore began.

"There's Diggory's father, he's coming this way. You don't want him to see this," Moody noted.

"Oh, dear. Harry, stay here, I'll be back," said Dumbledore as he turned and walked away.

Harry felt hands on him as Moody half-lifted him up, looping his arm over his shoulder. "Dumbledore said stay," he told the man.

"It's all right. Just to the hospital wing, all right? We'll take the rear stairs to avoid crowds." Moody asked. As they moved and entered the castle, Harry could hear the soft clunk of Moody's artificial leg. "So the Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"

Something was wrong. Moody felt strange to Harry, a little like Voldemort for some reason. He didn't know where these feelings came from. As his mind whirled, Moody led him into his classroom. That's when Harry realized: the feeling was coming from the man's wrist, and Harry remembered what he'd heard about the Dark Mark. Harry suddenly pulled his wand and before Moody could move, cried out, "Stupefy!"

Moody dodged the attack, surprisingly nimble, and laughed, "Smart one, aren't you, Potter?" He smirked, "Not fast enough though. Crucio!"

Harry moved to the side and felt himself falling. He was still unsteady after what had happened. He pushed off, rolling behind one of the tables, thinking. He peeked out and pointed it towards Moody, stating firmly, "Confrigo!"

As the spell streaked towards the man, Moody lifted his wand and batted the spell aside, "Oh, not relying on stunners? What would your friends think?" taunted the man. He gestured with his wand, and one of the desks warped, becoming a lion. "How ironic. A Lion ripped apart by a lion."

Harry didn't know what to do. Suddenly, a spell came to him and he cast it without thinking, "Inanimata mutio vita!" Another desk transformed into a large bear, and it roared, lashing out its paw at the lion, sending it flying, the lion lying unconscious on the floor.

Bear versus lion? Bear wins.

"What the..." Even as the bear turned toward Moody and charged, and Moody snarled, "Avada Kedavra!" As the green light struck the bear, it fell. "Where'd you learn that, Potter? I'm impressed. Did you do research after I turned the Malfoy tosser's spawn into a ferret?"

Suddenly, the door blew inward, and Harry turned to see Dumbledore, glaring as he looked around. The man gestured with his wand, and Moody dodged the stunner shot by the Headmaster, responding with a sickly purple curse. Dumbledore casually batted it aside with his wand, and gestured again, bracketing Moody with spells. Unable to dodge them all, he shielded, only to get struck from behind as Dumbledore wordlessly summoned a chair. Staggering, Moody fell to another stunning spell. "Harry, are you all right?" Dumbledore asked as he cast a binding spell on Moody, then added a few other spells as well.

Harry slowly got to his feet, staggering, "I think so."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said with a frown. "He felt...wrong. Like Voldemort." As he spoke, he neared Dumbledore, taking a breath, "When I noticed that, I tried to stun him, but he blocked it. I got behind a desk. We fought a bit, then you came in."

"So I see. Who transfigured the animals?"

"He did the lion. Made a crack about a Lion being mauled by a lion. I'm not sure how, but I transfigured the bear. I needed something that would beat a lion, and the spell just came to me. I don't know how." Harry said after a moment's thought.

Dumbledore looked concerned. "It just came to you?" He looked at Harry before blinking, "Harry, what happened to your scar?"

"Wait, my scar?" Harry lifted his fingers, feeling the scar. I felt thinner, less prominent. "I don't know? When I was in the graveyard, I did feel some pain from it, but I was rather busy being hit with the torture curse and then trying to keep Voldemort back..."

Harry was surprised when Dumbledore waved his wand at him, frowning, and stepped forward, "Harry?" He sounded concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I think so?" Harry said. "I hurt a lot, but I'm not going to keel over or anything."

"Tell me everything that happened," Dumbledore told him.

"Well..." Harry began to explain, tearing up as he mentioned Cedric being killed. It went on for some time, Dumbledore occasionally asking questions. "Anyway, when my mum told me to go, I ran to Cedric's body. As I was going, I figured... I don't know, they were laughing when I was tortured and were Death Eaters. With Voldemort back, they would help him. So I cast a really strong exploding charm. Then summoned the trophy and it brought me and Cedric's body back. I don't know what happened to them."

Dumbledore's eyes closed, and he sighed, "I'm sorry you felt you needed to do that, Harry. Killing is never a good thing for us even when necessary. I'm not sure that it was, but I understand."

"I don't like the idea of killing either and wouldn't have if Voldemort hadn't returned. But the more you stop his people, the better, right?" Harry asked. "They were people who would have helped him kill people like my mum. And I doubt the Ministry would give them a real trial. Just pat them on the head, say 'Yes, you were under the Imperius' and let them go after money changed hands."

"Rather cynical, Harry. But possibly accurate," Dumbledore agreed with another sigh. He was still watching Harry, before shaking his head, "Let me get Professor Snape, we can try to question him before Cornelius arrives. Why don't you go to the Infirmary?"

"I think I'd like to stay and listen if you're willing, sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore frowned slightly, "Are you sure, Harry? I'm surprised you're not falling over from being under the Torture Curse."

"I don’t know. I ache, but it's not the worst I've had by far," Harry said with a shrug. The sad thing is he was telling the truth; it was nothing compared to the bite of a basilisk.

With this, Dumbledore sighed, "I really should send you right to the infirmary, but you do have a right to know. I will go get Severus. My spells will hold him but don't go near him."

Harry waited as Dumbledore left, sitting quietly on one of the desks. A few minutes later, Harry was surprised as Moody's face warped and changed, becoming someone else: a younger man with pale skin and freckles.

Slowly, Harry's eyes started to close when he suddenly started to feel cold. Coming into the room was a man with a bowler hat in his hands. Fudge. Beside him was a dementor. The man's eyes opened wide when he saw Moody, or whoever had posed as Moody. He gestured, and Harry gasped as the dementor surged towards the unconscious man.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Emerging from Harry's wand came... not the usual stag? Instead, a large, desiccated horse with wings appeared and drove the dementor away, causing it to screech as if pained even as it fled towards the doorway only to stop when a phoenix Patronus drove it back again. Harry swayed, nearly passing out in exhaustion.

"Look here, boy! He escaped from Azkaban. He needs to be Kissed!" Fudge demanded.

"Ah, Cornelius," came a voice from the doorway, causing Fudge to whirl around, panicked. The dementor screeched again, caught between the two Patronuses. "You do realize that you attempted to have him Kissed before he gave a statement to Madame Bones? What will the Wizengamot think?"

"I-I!" Fudge looked worried and turned to stomp out, saying to the two aurors waiting outside, "Get the dementor, let's go!" The auror produced a medallion and Dumbledore let his Patronus fade so the auror could lead the creature out of the school.

"I trust you will be careful with that foul creature," Dumbledore said. "I will be most displeased if it were to harm someone." Harry was surprised at how quietly Dumbledore delivered what could only be a threat.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as Harry let his own Patronus fade away. "Professors Snape and McGonagall will be here soon so we can question him."

And indeed, no more than a minute or two later, both entered the classroom. "It's Barty Crouch Junior!" said Snape in surprise, staring at the man. "He was said to have died in Azkaban."

"Apparently not," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "Rennervate!" As he woke up the man, he nodded and Snape applied drops of Veritaserum to the man's tongue. "What is your name?"

"Bartemius Crouch Junior."

"When were you born?"

"The 3rd of June 1979."

"It would seem to be working," Dumbledore observed, before starting to ask more questions. Crouch Junior verified that he put Harry's name in the Goblet and that it was Voldemort's plan to come back to life. When they found out that Moody was in a trunk in the Defense Professor's bedroom, McGonagall rushed out of the room. Meanwhile, Harry shuddered as he realized how he'd been clueless the entire year. So many things could have happened. Crouch went on to admit that he murdered his father and layered a second portkey over the Triwizard Cup.

Harry leaned back and sighed. His entire body ached and burned, all at once, and he was starting to feel tired. Perhaps whatever burst of energy he'd had was fading.

"Would you like--" Dumbledore paused as Snape hissed again, holding his wrist. Nodding towards the empty doorway, Snape walked out of the room, Dumbledore followed after stunning Crouch, leaving Harry briefly to speak to the Potions professor.

Harry was fading in and out at this point and he nodded at Dumbledore when the man returned. "Harry, you need to go to the hospital wing. Do you think you can do so on your own, or shall I send someone?"

"I can do it on my..." Harry swayed slowly, and passed out, slumping onto a desk.

Well, that was an answer to the question.

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Harry slept. Somehow, he knew he was dreaming, even as he found himself standing in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Hello, Harry."

Whirling, Harry found himself face to face with an old man. Unlike Dumbledore, he lacked a beard, though he had a rather fancy moustache. "Who're you?"

"Rather impatient, hmm? I am your ancestor, Ignotus Peverell. Congratulations. You're the first of the Potter line to reawaken my family's magic," the man stated as he looked at him.

Harry had absolutely no idea what was going on. Some part of him told him to believe the man, however. "Uh...nice to meet you, sir. Your family's magic?"

The man frowned, "You don't know a great deal about the world you've entered, do you?" Ignotus shook his head. "Think of how old many wizard families are. Do you think they haven't discovered or created magics of their own? These magics are not always shared with everyone; instead, some are kept for the family. Some of these magics cannot be shared, like parseltongue. Others aren't shared to keep an advantage for the family because others can use the magics, if not as well as the family can."

Harry frowned a bit, "So it's hidden knowledge of a family? Wouldn't it be better to share it with everyone?"

"Sometimes that's the case. Not all magic that is researched is made secret. It depends on the head of the family. But some magics have to be kept secret as they're easily abused or they will weaken the family in some way. You wouldn't give away all your money, would you? Knowledge is much the same." Ignotus shrugged. "The Peverell magic can only be used by a member of the main family line, and only if they've been chosen by the magic."

"And how did this happen with me, then?" Harry asked.

"You both accepted and rejected death. You stood on the precipice but did not fear death. You refused to bow before the one who would kill you." Ignotus chuckled, "We Peverell have a unique association with death. We must both accept the inevitability of death but stand against it in the defense of ourselves and others. Over a thousand years ago, we were blessed by Manannán mac Lir, and that blessing remains to this day."

"Uh, who?" Harry wasn't stupid, but he wasn't an expert on mythology.

"Manannán mac Lir," Ignotus said with a sigh. "Celt god of the sea and the lord of the lands where the gods and the dead resided. Basically, to summarize, he was the god of the ocean and of the realm of the dead. It's a little more complicated than that, but it'll do for now."

"Gods are real?" Harry asked, a bit incredulously.

"You believe magic is real, but find it difficult to believe in the gods?" Ignotus laughed. "Yes, gods are real. They don't interact with the world so much anymore, preferring to stay in their domains. But they exist."

"Why don't they interact with people anymore?" Harry wondered.

"They do. But not as much. As people stopped believing, that made it more difficult for the gods to affect the world. They're still incredibly powerful, but actually affecting the world is hard for them. Now, they must slip through the cracks. Think of it this way. Each person who believes is a tiny conduit for their power. Without those conduits, their power is limited here. So, one of the ways they work is through those like us. Because we have been blessed, we hold a fragment of their power. In our case, Manannán mac Lir's."

"I don't understand. I don't have some great power, I've never been the best in school," He noted.

"You also never tried very hard, did you? The parasite didn't help, either," Ignotus said with a slight shake of his head. "At any rate, you do have that power. We Peverell are lords of the unseen and masters of souls. We can force spirits to pass on, and manipulate our and others' souls."

Harry wrinkled his nose, "What does manipulating your soul do for you? It sounds scary. And what do you mean, parasite?"

"Think, Harry. Where does magic come from? You manipulate your soul, you manipulate your magic. You are now more attuned to magic in all its forms," Ignotus explained. "I have to tell you something else as well, something you will not like."

"Oh boy," muttered Harry. "Well, let's get it over with."

"When you were a baby and Voldemort died, his soul shattered. Part of his soul lodged onto you. That's why you would feel pain when near him." Ignotus continued, "Luckily, that splinter is gone."

Harry felt dirty. Part of Voldemort had been inside him? He shuddered, "It's gone though?"

"Yes. While you were fighting Voldemort and gained the Peverell family magics, you instinctively absorbed it. Usually, that takes training but it was an emergency; you must have a great deal of talent. And before you start getting scared, it will not hurt you. It will, in fact, help you," Ignotus told him.

Harry started to feel sick. He absorbed part of Voldemort? He sat down, looking up at Ignotus, "How would it help me? It's Voldemort."

Ignotus sighed, "Think of it this way. You drew the soul shard into yourself, purified it, and let it go. In doing so, you gained the magic from it, making your magic stronger. You also gained some of Voldemort's knowledge. You will not have his memories as that's part of what you purified."

Harry frowned, "So it was a bunch of dirty water. I got rid of the dirt, which was Voldemort, and what was left was his magic and knowledge, and got that?" He paused, "How could I get his knowledge and not his memories? I don't understand that."

Ignotus laughed, "You ask the hard questions. The Egyptians believed there were multiple aspects of the soul. They were, to an extent, correct. To use their terms, you rejected his ba, his personality, that which he was. You absorbed much of his akh, his intellect, that which he knew, and part of his ka, his vital essence or magic. I'm vastly simplifying but it's close enough for our purposes." He shrugged, "Or just accept that it's magic for now. It'll take time for me to teach you."

"Wait. How do you know all of this? What happened with me in the graveyard, that Voldemort gave me a soul shard, and so on?" Harry sounded confused.

"As I said, we Peverell have a unique association with death. Now that you've awakened the family magics, I'm here to train you in them. No one living would be able to. If you die before another comes, you might be the one to train whoever manages to awaken the family magics in turn, instead of me." Ignotus explained. "As part of that, I can let's say, see your life. It's more complicated than that, but it will do."

"I don't understand," Harry complained.

"I'm a ghostly mentor and thus know things. Just accept that," Ignotus said dryly, "Okay?"

"Fine," Harry said, drawing it out. He was starting to grow more comfortable with the strange man. "What now, then?"

"Now, you have a great deal of power and knowledge to integrate. You're lucky; Voldemort knew how to use Occlumency. You should learn that first, and then the rest will be far easier." He pointed to the centre of the room. A small, steaming goblet could be seen. "That is your mental representation of what you took from Voldemort. Interesting choice. What you need to do is drink the liquid inside the goblet and focus. The knowledge will come quickly. It will hurt at first until you grasp Occlumency. Do that as quickly as possible, as it'll shorten the time you're unconscious."

"Wait, how do I 'learn Occlumency first'?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed. "And how long will I be unconscious?"

"Focus. It's just like magic; it is magic. Focus on learning Occlumency, of learning to control and protect your mind, have that be your sole thought. That will guide you towards that information. From there on, it will be easier." A pause and Ignotus added, "As for how long, if you do well a few days. If you do poorly, a few weeks."

He added with a smirk, "No pressure."

"Oh sure, none at all," Harry snarked. He sighed, "Well, might as well get this done with." With that, he drank the steaming "potion", focusing on honing his mind, on learning Occlumency.

Pain. PainPainPainPainPain.

It felt like his mind was tearing itself to pieces. It was as bad as Voldemort's Torture Curse. Harry shuddered, falling to his knees. If he didn't give up to that, he wouldn't to this. It felt strangely like when he had pushed against Voldemort's spell in the graveyard.

Slowly, the pain began to ebb.

And then, Harry fell unconscious.