1,338Dyslexia: I have it, missing words and misspellings ahead of you. I'm also dealing with major health issues so if you are wondering why I haven't finished my other works, nagging me will only make me more reluctant. Is that spiteful? Yes, but spite is a key part of my personality and how I became a writer despite my brain being handicapped with languages. You're welcome.
Summary: Luna finds something, or rather someone she maybe shouldn't have in the Department of Mysteries. When she and Harry are inexplicably given a chance to redo the year, they decide to take their lives into their own hands. Fixing old mistakes and making new ones, the occupants of Hogwarts are not prepared for this dynamic duo nor all their little, and not so little, friends.
WARNING: It does get darker as it goes along, good characters are still good, but there is some horror elements and some realism, that while not depicted is still brought up. There will be warnings on specific chapters. But I've read all this stuff in teen fiction, even the swearing. So I'm keeping it T for teens which means no explicit on-screen lemons ;D
The Delicate Art of Raising Thestrals
"I don't care!" Harry yelled, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I've had enough, I've seen enough, I want out, I want it to end! I don't care any more—"
He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions.
"You do care," said Dumbledore. He had not flinched or did he make a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."
"I DON'T!" Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself.
"Oh, yes, you do," Dumbledore, still more calmly…
Words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He turned on his heel and ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it.
But the door would not open.
Harry turned back to Dumbledore.
"Let me out," he said. He was shaking from head to foot.
"No," said Dumbledore simply…
"If you don't— if you keep me in here—if you don't let me—"
"By all means continue destroying my possessions," said Dumbledore serenely. "I daresay I have too many."
He walked around his desk and sat down behind it, watching Harry.
"Let me out," Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore's.
"Not until I have had my say," said Dumbledore.
"Do you— do you think I want to— do you think I give a— I don't care what you've got to say!" Harry roared…
"You will," said Dumbledore steadily. "Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it."
Order of the Phoenix, Except.
Prologue
Harry felt drained, he felt sick.
His parents were dead because of a prophecy.
Neville's parents were worse than dead because of a prophecy.
Sirius was dead…
Because of a prophecy.
Harry was numb, too tired to be angry, too shocked to grieve.
For once it wasn't him but his friends were in the hospital wing, because of Harry.
And really, despite all that Dumbledore had said, it all fell back on Harry, his responsibility.
His fault.
By the time he got to the hospital wing, it was late. Luckily, Madame Pomfrey didn't shoo him away.
He went to each bed his friends were in, however, it was only the last bed at the end of the ward, was there someone awake to greet him.
Harry sat down at Luna's bedside, and she greeted him with a soft smile, "Hi, Harry."
"Hi, Luna," he croaked.
Her smile fell, "Are you alright? Your voice…"
He waved it away, "I was yelling at Dumbledore."
"That must have felt cathartic."
He shrugged, "It doesn't undo anything."
"I wish I could help you make it right."
He sighed, "I wish I knew then what I know now."
She took his hand with one of hers. Her skin was soft beneath his callouses.
Yet in the gesture, she revealed something she had been holding. Something that glowed silver and purple-blue.
"What's that?" he asked.
"She's a fairy, I think."
"Where are her wings?" Harry asked, having seen fairies before, but never one that seemed to radiate with visible magic like a mist haloing her.
"I don't know," Luna said. "I found her trapped in one of the rooms of the Department of Mysteries."
Harry scowled, "Sometimes, I hate wizards."
Luna's gaze fell, "Humans can be quite awful, can't we?"
Harry nodded and the fairy stood looking between them both with a curious expression.
"What are we going to do?" Harry asked, more of himself, and the world than of Luna.
She squeezed his hand, "You're not alone."
He met her gaze, "Thank you, Luna."
She blinked her large eyes at him, "For what?"
"For being my friend. You kept me from losing my mind this year."
Her eyes went impossibly wide and her next words tore his heart open, "I did? I didn't know I could do that. I've never had friends before."
Harry's words stuck on the back of his tongue, and even if Harry wasn't much of a hugger, it felt like the only possible response to that. Letting go of her hand, he gently lent over the bed to wrap her in a hug.
"Well now you do," he said into her soft hair as she hugged him back in a one armed hug.
The air changed around them and he opened his eyes to light, bright, bright blue light.
Harry pulled back, he had enough time to exchange a look with Luna and look down at the fairy who was the source of the light.
Light like the heart of a newly born star.
The hospital wing was blotted out.
Harry and Luna shielded their eyes against the glare, and the world itself fell away.
Chapter 1 - A Step Below
Harry woke with a start.
It was dark but not quiet, Ron's distinctive snore rumbled in the bed beside him.
Harry sighed, he had no memory of going to bed but when he sat up, reaching for his glasses, he realized he was no longer in the hospital wing, nor even his dormitory.
Harry moved through the darkened room slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath his bare feet.
He was in Grimmauld Place.
But why would he be here?
He stopped on the landing and closed the door as quietly as he could.
"Well you're up early."
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun round to see Sirius, alive and grinning at him.
Tears filled Harry's eyes as he realized this was a dream that would end in a nightmare no matter what followed, whether like in most waking dreams that followed your worst thoughts or it might remain good, which would make facing the morning all the crueller.
"Harry?" Sirius asked, smile faltering.
"I'm so sorry, Sirius."
Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.
It felt so real.
"What do you possibly have to be sorry for, son?"
Harry's throat was still raw from his 'discussion' with Dumbledore as he forced out the words, "I'm sorry for all of it, for not waiting, for being stupid, for not trusting Snape and Hermione. It's my fault you're dead. It's— I just— I couldn't lose you too, but that's—"
"Whoa, whoa, slow down, Harry," Sirius said, leading him down the stairs. "Did you get taller?"
"I'm sorry," Harry said, voice small.
Sirius squeezed his shoulder, "S'alright, I'm not dead. No need to be sorry for anything. We'll get some tea and Molly will be up with breakfast in a bit."
"I'm dreaming," Harry stated.
Sirius's hand tightened further, "You were dreaming. But it's all going to be alright. After all, it's the beginning of a new day and a new year at Hogwarts."
"Worst year ever," Harry said glumly, lowering his voice so as to not wake Sirius's mother, who hopefully wasn't really there. "Didn't think it could get worse than the Triwizard tournament, but I was wrong. I'd rather face a hundred horntails."
"Oooo-kaaay, now you're starting to sound like Moony and I'm officially worried," Sirius said with a brital smile as they entered the kitchen.
"You're dead," Harry informed him.
Sirius frowned at him, "I'm not though."
"Then are we both dead?" Harry asked, almost hopeful.
He didn't remember dying, but if he was dead, then he never had to wake up, right?
Sirius didn't answer Harry, just pushed him down into a seat at the table. He rushed over to the kitchen counter, wand out.
Lupin was there too, sitting across from him, the man's soft expression instantly turned wary as he examined him, "Harry, are you alright? You look as though you just walked out of a war zone."
"Death Eaters suck," Harry agreed.
"Harry thinks I'm dead," Sirius said, coming back to the table with a mug of hot tea, a carton of milk and a small bowl of sugar balanced in his hands, his wand sticking out of his breast pocket.
"And why do you think that?" Lupin asked peaceably.
"Because I'm an idiot who isn't allowed to have family, obviously. At least not the decent sort at any rate," Harry snarked.
"Harry," Lupin chided.
He rolled his eyes at the man, "You were there."
"Remind me," Lupin challenged.
"No," Harry said.
"Harry," Lupin scolded.
"Did Dumbledore tell you I used the Cruciatus Curse on her?" Harry shot back, affronted that Lupin would take that tone with him here and now.
Both Marauders froze, like deer in headlights.
Harry was amused by their shock. Harry was too happy to see Sirius, so he knew this had to be Heaven, but talking about dark magic seemed to be against the rules.
It seemed not even in the afterlife could Harry stay out of trouble.
Oh, well.
He wondered as soon as this talk was over, 'sorry you're dead now, Harry, we're going to ease you into it so you don't make a fool of yourself in front of Lily and James,' if he would be allowed to see them.
It was rather thoughtful of them to give him a bit of an adjustment period.
Heaven was kind of awesome, a little underwhelming, but awesome all the same.
"On who?" Lupin asked.
Harry rolled his eyes again, "Gee, I don't know, who do you think?"
"I don't really know what to think right now," Lupin said, eyes sharp. "The Harry I know would never use an Unforgivable."
"Well," Harry said. "Despite being the only one out of my father's friends who had the opportunity, you never did bother to get to know me all that well, did you, Professor?"
Maybe Harry was still a little bitter about the guilt trip Lupin had given him in third year.
Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks.
Who was he to talk to when he didn't even trust Sirius enough to ensure his friend got a trial? Or at the very least, advocate for it. No, everyone had blamed Sirius because he was a Black even though he had spent his whole life proving he was nothing like them.
It was like someone assuming Harry was like the Dursleys.
He shuddered at the thought.
Lupin let out a long breath, "Harry, I know—"
"You're going to tell me," Harry interrupted, quickly losing patience. "Either that 'Dumbledore told me not to' or that I could have contracted lycanthropy through the mail. If the former, then sod off, if the latter, I really think you should have covered that in class,"
Lupin was staring at him, shocked.
"Um, I see you're a happy morning person then," Tonks said, managing to get through the door before tripping over a chair.
"Can I see Mum and Dad now?" Harry asked.
"Harry," Sirius said, taking his hand in both of his. "Listen to me; you are not dead."
Harry couldn't look at him, couldn't even raise his voice as he replied, "Don't lie to me, Sirius."
"I'm not," Sirius coaxed, putting Harry's hands around the mug. "Drink the tea, your voice is hurting my throat."
Harry sipped the tea whose temperature was safe to drink thanks to the milk and sugar Sirius had generously added for him.
It was good.
"Who did you use that curse on?" Lupin asked.
Harry rolled his eyes, and took another gulp of the Heaven tea before he answered, "Bellatrix Lestrange."
The three adults went still, as if they had forgotten how to breathe.
Harry took another swig of tea, it did feel good on his throat.
God, he was tired, it wasn't right that you could be dead and tired at the same time, surely one had to negate the other?
"Bellatrix Lestrange is in prison," Lupin said.
Harry snorted, "Sure, why not."
"I'm serious, Harry—"
"Really?" Harry cut in, "I thought you were Remus Lupin. Roman Wolf Wolf."
Sirius and Tonks coughed on laughter.
Lupin glared at him, "Enough of Sirius's puns, the Cruciatus Curse is no laughing matter."
Harry shook his head, looking down into his tea, "She laughed."
"She who?" Sirius asked.
"Bellatrix Lestrange, she laughed; at you, at me, at my spells and curses. She said I wasn't doing it properly. That I needed to mean it."
"Mean what?" Tonks asked.
Harry looked up at her, "I needed to want it, to want to cause her pain. And I did want to hurt her, but not like she did. She said righteous anger wasn't enough."
"Okay, okay," Sirius said. "We need to roll back, how did this nightmare start?"
Harry focused on him, he looked rough for a man who was supposed to be in Heaven, and raised a brow, "You mean Cedric dying or when we lost Wormtail or when Wormtail turned traitor? You know, I never asked Mrs. Weasley, but is she going to be the one to get him now? Because really, I feel like it's her and Mr. Diggory who must have dibs at this point."
Sirius blinked, "No, I mean the nightmare where you and I die? The one you think we are still stuck in."
"Oh," Harry said, thinking back. "Uh, sometime before Christmas, I think. Dumbledore said it was when you told Kreature to get out, he ran to Bellatrix and that's how Voldemort learned that you're the person I care most about in the world and would do anything for. That's a little bit unfair to Hermione and Ron, but they were at Hogwarts so…" He took a breath, "So that's why you're dead, because I cared about you."
Sirius stared at him, "Harry…"
Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room then, causing them all to jump. "Oh, good, Harry, you're up. Is Ron— oh my, you look… horrid. No, sit down, we'll get some food in you, and if you hurry you will have enough to take a shower before we leave. You're packed, right?"
Mr. Weasley, followed by Alastor Moody, Fred, George, Ginny, and Hermione came in next.
Harry blinked, "Okay, now I feel like I'm missing something; we can't all be dead. Madame Pomfrey is too good to have lost all of us."
Everyone stopped in their tracks to look at Harry with perturbed expressions.
Except for Moody, who grinned his gnarled grin of his, "Now you're starting to use that brain of yours, Potter. Never stop questioning reality, that's how they get you."
"They who?" Tonks asked.
"They!" Moody exclaimed.
What was the last thing Harry remembered? he wondered as he drank his too real tea, in this too real kitchen that was too grubby to be a part of Heaven and not awful enough to be hell.
"We need to contact Dumbledore," Lupin said.
"Hate to break it to you," Harry said. "But if this is just me having a dream-nightmare-thing, he's not going to care."
Lupin stood, "Harry, don't be foolish—"
"Said the werewolf who forgot which night was the full moon," Harry snapped.
Lupin's jaw dropped.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, horrified at his rudeness.
"Come on, Hermione, we got saved by Snape and Sirius, then you time travelling, then Buckbeak, meanwhile there was perfectly brewed potion sitting on his desk," Harry said, his thoughts snagging on his own words; time travel.
A flash of white-blue light sparked in his memories.
Lupin's shoulders sagged, "I am sorry, Harry."
"You ought to be," Mrs. Weasley said sharply, though her next words softened the blow. "You deprived the school of a very fine DADA professor."
"Still amazing that our best DA teacher to date was a Death Eater," Harry said, pushing to see how far he could test this vision-dream that maybe was something else altogether.
Lupin frowned at him and no one else protested save Moody who said, "Barty Jr. was a psychotic genius."
"To be fair, Snape is both of those things, and sucks at teaching," Harry said idly, remembering visiting the hospital wing last night at Hogwarts.
"He's a brilliant potions Master," Lupin defended.
"Doesn't mean he's good with kids," Harry countered.
"Alright, alright, you all need to get some food in you and get going," Mrs. Weasley said, shushing everyone.
The adults and Hermione kept flashing Harry worried looks, but Harry wasn't thinking about them, he was thinking about last night; —about Luna.
And the glowing fairy.
And the wishes Harry and Luna had made.
She had said, I wish I could help you make it right.
And he had said, I wish I knew then what I know now.
It wasn't the first time he had time travelled. He shouldn't be this surprised.
But it was him, so he knew, down deep in his bones, that whatever wish was ever granted, there would always be a catch. A catch big enough to make the wish not worth making.
But on the plus side to being alive, and Sirius being alive, and getting another chance, it would appear he had managed to thoroughly psyche out the Order of the Phoenix.
A perturbed Lupin and Molly who were exchanging worried glances and an almost chipper Moody who gruffly was explaining the vagaries of who 'they' were to Tonks in nondescript detail.
Dumbledore was going to be very confused by today's report. That thought alone helped Harry get through the morning of a day he had lived before.
He made a solemn vow to himself and to Hogwarts, that whatever happened this time round, he would make sure to cause as many headaches as he possibly could.
Turnabout was fair play, after all.
AN: Thoughts on the story, pandas, or feedback on the chapter, pretty please?