Disclaimer: If you see Burt Reynolds, will ya shake his hand for me?

A/N: Hey, folks, long time no see. Here’s the next chapter. Read and review, and review again. Some interesting points to watch out for this time, with many more to come. All the best,

Joe

*~*~*~*

Harry Potter and the Wastelands of Time

Chapter 18 – Brink Of Your Vision

Say your prayers and light a fire.

We’re gonna start a war…

~Greenday

I looked down at my hand. It was broken, mangled… two of my fingers were missing.

Dazed and weary, I watched the spells and the fire dance back and forth across the vast cavern. Elaborate and inventive beams of magical energy lit the mosaic of Atlantis, casting the walls in alternating shades of destructive chaos and throwing up the mismatched shadows of men, goblins, and worse...

I’d landed with my back against one of the obsidian pillars that marked the entrance to the Lost City. The pillar was shaking – cracking – and white light as pure as silver blazed through the gaps. Soon, now, soon… the way would open.

“’Arry…”

There was so much noise.

So much noise and madness. I shook my head, trying to clear it all away through my relentless headache. My hand didn’t hurt, which was something, I suppose. Although it was bleeding like a motherfu—

“Merde, ‘Arry, you ‘ave to stand!”

Someone gripped me under my arm and hauled me to my feet. Through the dirt and the grime and the smell of hot coppery magic on the air, I caught a wave of strawberries and rainfall. Blond hair, slick and matted with blood on one side from a nasty gash across her forehead, entered my line of sight.

“Fleur…” I croaked, choking on ash. I coughed to clear my throat as my mind fell back in to place. “Where’s Tonks?”

“With Arnair and Grace, protecting them from ze worst of eet. ‘Arry… your poor hand.”

My wand was still gripped firmly in my undamaged right hand. A small mercy that it was my left that had been maimed. No matter. What was a finger or two over the course of a lifetime? Most of the mangled flesh looked cauterised from the blast wave that had sent me ass-over-head into the pillar, but my finger-stumps were still bleeding.

“No matter,” I said. From the burning in my side I guessed that my stitches must have burst, too. “No matter. We’ve got to move. Stay behind me and stay low.”

The wide plateau that had been covered with gold and treasure five days ago was now a makeshift battlefield with half a dozen warring factions on either unnecessary side, most of them vying for my head.

A group of armoured goblins wielding fiery swords clashed with a unit of French Aurors.

More Aurors were firing spells against four of the Orc-Mare, the creatures I’d named Tweedledum and Tweedledee, and were being slaughtered. Even though their magic seemed to be operational. Why was it just me they neutered?

At the top of the cavern, Italian forces sent from Rome were battling with the rogue wizards that had come with the goblin bastards.

Far overhead, more of the Orc-Mare circled, flying on their leathery decayed wings and swooping down with murderous intent, vicious swords in hand.

The only factions missing were Dumbledore’s Order and the Death Eaters. I didn’t expect Death Eaters at this rodeo, but not expecting the worst had bit me hard in the ass more than once. It had ended the world more than once.

And in the middle of it all, broken and bleeding, I stood watching the insanity unfold.

Insanity that had gone on long enough and set this part of the world ablaze – burning through the valley all day to this nexus of forces, to this shit storm of good intentions. It was fucking hilarious that all the people that had come to kill me were killing each other.

Fleur and I ducked behind the glowing pillars and we could feel the presence of the other world straining to break through the barrier that had kept it lost for thousands and thousands of years. It felt like a weight slamming us into the ground, it felt bigger than anything we could imagine – it felt like death, if I’m to be honest.

And I know a little about dying.

BOOM!

Something exploded. Fucked if I knew what, but a rain of shrapnel – stone and tile chips – had us ducking for cover behind the makeshift crates that held the supplies I’d been planning on crossing with into Atlantis. There’d be no time to bring them now, not if the way was opening early and the battle intensified. We were uncomfortably close to the edge of the plateau and the endless chasm that lay beyond.

 

Tonks was just six-feet away, crouched behind the crates with Jason Arnair and Grace Connor, a grim smile on her face. She had a few cuts and bruises of her own, and paled at the sight of my left hand.

“Hey,” I said. “Everyone’s trying to kill each other, so I reckon we should just sit this part out—”

A familiar and terrifying screech cut through the cavern and one of the Orc-Mare swooped down low from above, a squirming goblin in armour clutched between its talons. It took a swing at me with its sword, eyes shining with sickly yellow light, but missed. The goblin tumbled from its grip and smacked into the stone near the edge of the plateau, ten feet away.

I thought for a moment. “Fuck this.” I wasn’t going to sit this part out. All of these bastards were going to die, and die hard. Someone out there owed me one left hand.

The goblin that had fallen from on high was struggling to stand and shaking itself off. All of the goblins had come dressed for war in shiny platinum armour. They looked like mini-knights of medieval England, ready to defend some tiny castle. All of them were equipped with magical swords that burnt with purple fire. Deadly and insane.

I covered the distance between the goblin and the edge of the plateau, just as the little bastard found its feet, and gave him a firm kick in the ass with the heel of my shoe.

I imagine its face looked quite surprised as it went tumbling over the edge into nothingness.

All the while I was muttering under my breath and my wand had begun to vibrate. Black fire, a fire that absorbed light and warmth, began to flow from the tip until I had a length like a bullwhip, thin and crackling.

“Stay well back,” I growled at my few allies. Jason and his assistant, Grace, Muggles both, looked frightened beyond all reason, and just merely nodded at me. Fleur and Tonks met my eyes with a look of pure disbelief. Here was another lost magic brought back to life.

“Harry… is that Demon’s Light?” Tonks asked.

“Ain’t I just full of surprises.” My broken hand was really beginning to hurt.

Outlawed by every civilised government – much like Fiendfyre – Demon’s Light was a deadly and potent weapon. In many ways, it was worse than Fiendfyre. Fiendfyre could be controlled, at least. Demon’s Light was hell unleashed – dark magic at its finest. A single spark would reduce flesh to dust… and dust to nothing.

I never said I was the good guy, not by far, and I’d been pushed too far once again by all these bastards. Chronos would die, before I was through, for bringing this storm upon me. Of that I was certain.

The Demon’s Light strained against my wand, fighting to break free. I could feel it getting ready to turn on me if I didn’t release it, but my will was greater. Coils of black flame circled my ankles like a snake, slowly rising around my body. If I sneezed it would probably kill me.

Ah, hell, I’d been so sure I’d make it to Atlantis without this massacre. Where was Dumbledore? He should have been here. No matter now. Atlantis was aching at the bonds to be released. I was more than happy to speed that process along.

I walked out from behind the crates and into the centre of the plateau, before the shaking and shining Gates of Atlantis, wreathed in black fire and snarling at those who would dare try and stop me. Flecks of blood on my glasses gave the world around me a shade of red.

I couldn’t kid myself here, what I was about to do was murder. It was kill or be killed, it was always kill or be killed. This was something else though. Demon’s Light was something else. I was insane, I had to be. But then sanity didn’t win wars – killing the greatest number of people did.

So murder it was then. I could never be the kind of hero people expected me to be. I could only be this – bathed in fire and blood.

*~*~*~*

Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end… then stop.

Or if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. That’s a cool motto. Want to know a secret though?

You’re fucked either way.

*~*~*~*

Four Days Earlier

I spent the better part of the next day, after returning from Rome and my ice cream with Chronos, fortifying the villa and surrounding valley with all manner of magical defences.

The ward platform was upgraded surrounding the house to include a few nastier spell traps and the low lying lands sloping towards the river were bugged with Apparation blackout spots and magical nullifier runes. I was tempted to use starlight buried under a few trees to set the forest ablaze, but I needed the starlight to punch through into another world…

For that I also needed Jason Arnair. Damn it all.

I’d have to do a little bit of time management on that front. But for now, spell traps and offensive-defensive wards were the way forward.

Goblins, I thought. They’ll come dressed to impress with magical weaponry. There could be bounty hunters as well as Aurors from at least three nations. Dumbledore may catch wind of this, too… perhaps I should tell him? Get him on my side now?

I was more than a little concerned that those Tweedledum and Tweedledee bastards would show up and render my magic useless, as they had done in Tivoli and sent me naked down an elevator shaft, so I wanted as much trigger-spells ready as possible should I find myself wandless.

I wanted more than precious Fleur and sweet Tonks on my side should the shit hit the fan. Dumbledore could bring the Order. Dumbledore himself could probably maintain order between the Aurors. The goblins were another matter, as were my time-demon enemies.

Heck, battle strategy left me with a headache.

The long and the short of it was, people were going to die. It would not be Fleur and it would not be Tonks. If anything, I was hoping for a goblin slaughter, but I was realistic enough to know that should the worst happen, and demonic magic-thieving demons descended from on high, then good Aurors – Aurors that would be needed in the war I’d bring back with me from Atlantis – would suffer and die.

I’d done all I could in the valley. As it was, I’d already sent up several flares for those in the know. The magic I’d used was heavy stuff, dark stuff. A scan of the valley would bring a horde of curious Aurors from Rome. I had to assume that was going to happen anyway. I was wanted for high-profile murder, after all. Nations all over Europe were on edge.

Returning to the villa as the sun set in the western sky, and an azure wash of twilight swept into a darkening eastern approach, I could smell something delicious cooking in the wood-fired oven.

I found both Fleur and Tonks in the kitchen, laughing and joking together (for a wonder), and preparing dinner. It was a strangely surreal scene.

“I’m back,” I said, sitting down at the table and summoning a can of Coke from the chilled trunk. We’d stocked up on all the essentials in the town that morning. “Who missed me?”

“You were not missed, ‘Arry,” Fleur assured me. “Well, maybe a leetle…”

I wanted to feel her lips again – soft and sure.

“You’re making pizzas?” I asked. “Smells good.”

“This is Italy, isn’t it?” Tonks said. “Did you lay all your traps and wards?”

I nodded. “Call me paranoid, but someone’s out to get me.” And I’ll sleep easier knowing I can ignite this valley with a click of my fingers.

“Several someones.” Fleur smiled at me, it was a touch sad, but not pitying. “You look like you are up to something, ‘Arry.”

“Do I?” I shrugged and pulled the Time-Turner out from beneath my shirt. “Let’s have some pizza, ladies, and then I need to talk about some time management.”

We had pizza.

It was good – better than good.

My soda became a beer, the three of us sitting around a marble stone dining table and talking gently into the early evening, with good food. It didn’t matter that we were technically squatters in this villa, the setting was nice and so was the company. If I have any memories worth remembering, they’re of moments such as this – picture it well, for such a thing is not meant to last.

Not this close to Hell.

After dinner was cleared away Tonks and Fleur looked at me expectantly, and I shrugged out of my suit jacket and undid the top few buttons on my shirt so I could get at the Time-Turner.

“Who’s up for some time travel?” I asked.

“After last time?” Fleur said. “I seem to remember it hurting you quite a bit.”

“That it did.” I shrugged. There was no time for anything else. “I have to jump into the future and pull Jason Arnair back to tonight, so there’s time for him to decipher the Voynich manuscript and open the way to Atlantis. We’re cutting it close now. I get the feeling its all gonna come down to the last few seconds…”

“Time-turners send you back in time, Harry,” Tonks said.

Ah, she didn’t know about Saturnia’s modifications. I had to wonder if the crazy bitch had known I would need that particular function. Was it possible she had seen the future?

“This is a magic time-turner,” I said. “Heh – of course it is.”

Fleur stepped around the table and lifted the slack of the long chain over her head. “Why not?” she whispered, and gave my hand a squeeze.

“I don’t like this,” Tonks said, her hair fading from green to purple and back again. Fading through shades of tempestuous, uncontrolled brilliance.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Tonks. I reckon I’m going to need you in about one minute when we land two days from now.” Because this is really going to hurt.

Tonks sighed, but stepped around the table as Fleur had done and grasped the silver chain. We had to huddle close, our sides brushing together, to accommodate a third traveller. “And why is that?” she asked, her breath warm on my face.

I winked and laughed. “You’ll see.” I gritted my teeth and gave the tiny golden hourglass a flick, letting it pick up speed and send us forward in time.

The world dissolved and my headache exploded in a sunburst of dazzling raw pain—

“I want you to understand that there is no coming back from this.”

“I understand.”

She blinked. “No, I don’t think you do. Time ends us all, Harry Potter. You can’t expect to wrap it around your little finger without consequence.”

“What good is consequence when the world is in ashes?”

“You’ll be drawing the attention of powerful forces… beings you cannot begin to fathom.”

“Just slit my throat and get on with it, would you?”

My eyes were heavier than stone but I forced them open.

Pale morning light made me shy away into the pillows beneath me, and all my joints cracked at once as I moved. I was in pain – a lot of pain. For the moment memory eluded me. I remembered pizza, Fleur and Tonks standing close enough to embrace…

I could taste blood in the back of my throat.

It was an effort to sit up, and I realised that beneath the sheets I was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts. There were bloodied bandages crisscrossing my chest. What had happened? My thoughts were slow and muddled. This room was familiar – it was my bedroom in the villa.

“Easy, Harry, we just got the bleeding stopped.”

I blinked and saw Tonks next to the bed, the sleeves of her robes pushed up and her hair curving around her jaw in bubblegum-pink locks. She looked gorgeous, sweet, innocent – young but older. No, I was older, years older, because of the time—

“Ah…” I said, and my throat grated against sandpaper. “The Time-Turner nearly killed me, didn’t it?”

Fleur was in the room, too, standing by the window. She stared at me in silence, pale and worried but trying to hide it. Brave, that girl.

“You remember what happened?” Tonks asked. “You sent us spinning through time, we heard you screaming, and we land back in the dining room in a heap as you collapse bleeding all over yourself.”

I rubbed the bandages. They covered my heart, which was strange. I could feel a faint itch beneath the crimson rags. “Bleeding here?” I asked, tapping my chest. Tapping the scar that had ended my last brief life in Diagon Alley.

“Yes, Merlin knows why?” Tonks said. “And from your eyes and ears. You knew it was going to happen, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted me to come.”

I nodded and swung my legs out from under the covers, a hand pressed to the stitches in my side. It seemed like they were holding for now. Another week without them splitting and I might be in the clear. “You do have super-special Auror healing training.”

“You’re a reckless idiot,” Fleur said, all of a sudden.

Without my glasses her form was a touch indistinct, but I could feel the worry and the quiet anger emanating from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Half an hour or so.” Tonks tried to stop me from getting up but I brushed her away. “You lost a lot of blood, Harry.”

“I got a feeling the return trip’s going to knock a pint or two out of me as well. Heh.”

Fleur blew out her breath. “You cannot be serious.”

I consulted the ever-present timer in my head. I’d given the Time-Turner enough of a flick to spin us forward at least two days. We’d come forward a touch more than that, to the next morning. Time was short. We had to recover Arnair from Tivoli that morning and return to the past before the attack came.

I’d been betting the villa would still be here when we came forward. Chronos knew I needed at least five days to get to Atlantis. And despite whether or not he was trying to kill me, he wanted Atlantis, as well. Wanted me to open the way. Today was the beginning of the fourth day since he’d sworn to reveal my position to my enemies.

I was cutting it close, and if Arnair wasn’t there then I’d need to portkey back to the States and kidnap the bastard. It was going to be difficult enough explaining magic and secret wars to the man without having him turn against me from the start.

“I’m always serious, sweetheart.” I offered Fleur half a smile, as I stumbled out of the room. “It’s the rest of the world that’s taking the piss.”

I felt groggy and hung-over. My pounding headache throbbed right through my skull and down the back of my neck, twisting away at my shoulders.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I was pale and trying to control the spasms in my muscles. The bandages around my chest I peeled away, more curious than anything else. That scar over my heart had followed me through death and - more importantly - time, and now it burst when exposed to the effects of the Time-Turner? There was more going on there than I knew.

The skin was ropy and enflamed, but other than that it looked like any old scar. Only the blood on the bandages served as evidence that it had split open at all. Curious. I lifted my fringe and examined that old familiar lightning bolt. It felt menacing and… eager for me to meet its maker, but there had been no pain or visions in these last days since I awoke in Privet Drive.

Voldemort was in Atlantis - our link wasn’t severed, not at all, it was merely quiet. That would change in a few days - four if I had my way - and then this story would really begin. I felt guilty as sin wishing for the war, for the slaughter of thousands, but I was never meant to sit so idly by as I was on Lake Bra—

“’Arry, you look terrible.”

Fleur. Standing in the doorway.

I shrugged on my shirt and buttoned it up. “You look pretty good… opposites attract and all that nonsense…”

“You will not be much use in being my hero if you fall down dead, oui?”

“Dying was the most useful thing I ever did,” I said - not without thinking. I knew what I was saying, Fleur didn’t have a clue, but some part of me wanted her to know about the true time travel. A stupid, honest part that didn’t want to trick her into loving a monster.

“You confuse me…”

I waved her away. “I confuse myself. Let’s get ready - we’re going to Tivoli as soon as I’ve got my shoes on.”

Fleur stood there a moment longer, gazing at me with an expression that was two parts unreadable and one part painfully caring. “One day it will all be over, ‘Arry.”

I laughed, short but kind. “Yes it will. And when it is, we’ll go someplace very special - away from the world and almost as beautiful as you are.”

Fleur smiled. “You wish to spirit me away?”

“Just you, me and the roses, sweetheart.”

“That would be nice,” she said, and smiled once more before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

And they were unhappy thoughts - blood and fire and all that rubbish. They were aching thoughts - memories of sex and violence at the end of the world. They were painful thoughts - of enemies closing in on all sides and darkness beyond the edge of the abyss. They were happy thoughts - but were they? Were they really?

That would be nice, Fleur Delacour had said. But no, Fleur. No…

It would never be nice... because it would never be over.

Not for me.

*~*~*~*

It has to be better than a dream.

*~*~*~*

Look at where you are, I thought, my gaze drawn across to the twin falls of Tivoli in the early morning light.

Fleur, Tonks and I stood on the far banks of the river, on the far side from the blackened ruins of the hotel I’d been stabbed in and that had burnt down to the ground around me as I swirled forward through time. It had been in that hotel that I’d last seen Saturnia, the crazy bitch who had stuck me and kissed me in the same breath.

“This is a nice place,” Tonks said.

“Oui,” Fleur agreed.

“Of all the nice places I’ve been stabbed and left bleeding to die, this is in my top five.” I chuckled.

Fleur winced. “How are your stitches?”

“Stretched but not torn,” I admitted. “Not bleeding nearly as much as they were a week ago. Heh.”

“That wound isn’t natural, Harry,” Tonks said. “It’s cursed. I tried healing it while you were out after the time travel. What’s the deal?” Her hair was fiery red, her eyes cerulean.

“Mild case of demon bitch caused it. Has to heal the old fashioned way.”

“Does it hurt? The skin around it seemed enflamed.”

“Not infected, Tonks. So let’s get going.”

Tivoli was an idyllic town. As I’ve said before, it was ancient – older than Rome by centuries – and the heart of Lazio (Latium that was…). Fishing canals, tumbling waterfalls, broken cobblestones and green peaks in the distance made it a place to grow old.

But it was the hotel we were interested in – the one I didn’t burn down –and I made sure my collar was done up, my jacket straight and my shoes were shiny before we entered. I needed to look the part, even though I was burning through these thousand-dollar suits faster than fiendfyre through a field of zombies. I had a few left, in the trunks back in the villa.

I was relying on hope and what I knew of futures past that Jason Arnair would be here today. It was up to fate, and the best of my persuasion the other day to drag him across the face of the earth on nothing but the promise of Atlantean relics. He was going to get a lot more.

The hotel along the twisting streets beyond the harbour was old. Pebbled brickwork and heavy tapestries adorned the front, and inside the air was cool and clear. Hints of modern day technology were shrouded by oil paintings and staff in old tailcoats wheeling brass baggage trolleys. Tonks, with her purple hair, seemed remarkably out of place. I loved that about her.

In the end, I caught a break and Jason Arnair was there.

I found him sipping coffee in the dining room, a newspaper on his knee and a furrow in his brow. In the past, in other lives and other times, nine times out of ten I convinced him to join me. He was drawn to Atlantis, just like I was – call it fate, destiny, call it what you will. Sometimes we walk right into it, other times we stumble and find ourselves fighting for something real.

He wasn’t alone. His research assistant, the young woman Grace Connor, was with him, wearing a short little skirt and blouse, all brunette curls and blue eyes. That was unexpected, but a more than welcome occurrence. She was easy on the eyes – and saw me coming before Arnair did.

“Hello,” she said, glancing at Tonks and Fleur – her gaze lingered on Fleur, as did most gazes.

“Glad you could join us,” I said.

Arnair rose from his chair and offered his hand. I took it. “Your offer was too good to pass up.”

“That remains to be seen though, doesn’t it?” I grinned.

“Did you bring all the site documentation and sanctioned heritage certificates from the Italian government?”

I kept on grinning. “Allow me to introduce Nymphadora Tonks, and Fleur Delacour. My companions on this little venture, as I hope you will be.”

“A pleasure.” Arnair took their hands softly, shaking once. “My research assistant, Grace Connor.”

“Good to see you both again,” I said. “I… regret that we have little time for formalities, but time is slipping so quickly away, and there is a lot to discuss.”

“Indeed.” Arnair nodded. “Such as site authentication and documentation.”

“Don’t you just want to see it?” I asked. “We could be there in three days ago…”

Arnair blinked. “I’m taking the word of a boy that there is anything to be seen at all, Harry. Where do you want to take us?”

“Up river,” I said. “Into the mountains and the valleys, through time and the heart of all magic.”

“Harry,” Tonks warned, “remember the statutes of secrecy…”

“I’m a wizard,” I said, pulling out the Time-Turner. “This here’s my wizardly time machine. Arnair, and Miss. Connor, I’d like you to accompany me into the past and to the site of a ten thousand year old gateway to the lost city of Atlantis.”

Tonks threw up her hands and sighed. “Memory charms it is, then.”

“Not so fast, Tonks,” I said. “Perhaps a demonstration?”

The Ring of Concealment was firmly in place on my right index finger. Any magic I did was completely and utterly untraceable to Harry Potter – which was good, as a lot of people wanted Harry Potter dead. I picked up Arnair’s discarded newspaper and drew my wand.

“Portus.” The hazy blue light that shrouded the paper made Arnair take a step back. “Grad a hold, guys. This should do some convincing…”

“This is a bad idea, Harry,” Tonks said, placing her hand next to mine on the newspaper. “And we’ll sort it out later. But why bother stopping your bad ideas now?”

I laughed. “Why, indeed?”

“What are you doing?” Grace Connor asked, stroking a wisp of her hair back behind her ear.

“Writing you all a tragedy. Here, touch the paper.”

With a shrug, the young research assistant did. Fleur was next, placing her hand partly over mine. Last was Arnair, who looked not only confused but a little pissed off.

“Well?” he said.

“Well,” I said. “The band’s back together. Let’s go…”

A whispered word, a whoosh of magic – we disappeared.

Jason and Grace arrived at my villa, through a keyhole in the ward platform, on their knees and reeling from the portkey travel. Disorientated and confused, I sat them down as Fleur went to get some drinks and Tonks stood by, twirling her wand. There was a lot for them to take in, a lot they had to know, before I even attempted to explain what was to be done with the Time-Turner.

So I sat them down and told them everything – mostly everything. I spoke of Atlantis, of Voldemort and the war to come. I scared them. I said nothing of my true time travel, of course, nor much of Chronos and Saturnia, but I said enough.

At first they scoffed. Then they doubted. After I conjured a rabbit from thin air they were frightened. There was no bitter anguish or violent outbursts – this was the real world, not some story, and if I’ve learned anything over the long years it’s that the real world is a lot less caring.

A lot less emotional.

In the real world shit just happens, and we deal with it.

*~*~*~*

Show me a hero and I’ll write you a tragedy.

*~*~*~*

“Three, two, one…”

I flicked the Time-Turner back and the tiny hourglass began to spin. Pressed close together, between Fleur and Tonks, the chain just fit over all five of us. My headache didn’t even let me see the world fade away and the spinning colours descend before it tore my skull in two and rent me asunder—

“He’ll destroy this world a thousand times over before he accepts the inevitable. Some things are beyond redemption.”

I glared. “Don’t speak as if I’m not here.”

“Look at him – he’s mad! How many times has he already died? How many more times will he destroy himself? Again and AGAIN! He’s insane, damn it!”

“He only has to win once, just once, to make the insanity matter...”

“But it doesn’t matter, not to him – not to Harry fucking Potter. He’s watched it all burn so many times that none of it matters! Even when it meant something to him, he couldn’t win, and now look at what’s left... and old man, withered by time, looking no older than sixteen.”

I laughed aloud. “The chaos is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” I gazed out over the balcony at the wastelands of old London town, up at the sky and the roiling clouds of pure flame that stretched across the world, bathing the three of us in crimson light. There was no heat, there should have been heat. We were freezing.

“Even the cruelty has its beauty, ladies, never forget that.”

—I awoke to the taste of blood. I knew that taste well, like burnt whiskey and stale cigar smoke.

My vision was blurred, my glasses were missing, and someone was dabbing a damp cloth across my forehead. Through the haze I saw a slim outline, blonde hair and great curves.

“I once saw a fight between a bird and a squirrel,” I said, the effort tearing away at my bruised throat.

Fleur stopped dabbing my forehead. “Really, ‘Arry? Who won?”

“A car.” I grinned and Fleur chuckled, swatting me on the shoulder. “Time-Travel went as expected then?”

“Oui,” she said, her tone neutral. “You vomited blood all over ze carpet as soon as we landed back here.”

I took that in my stride. “How long have I been…?” But I knew the answer. The timer in my head spoke of half of day – so did the azure twilit sky beyond the shattered window. “Who broke the window?”

“You did.”

“Oh.”

“Your magic lashed out, ‘Arry, as you were coughing up blood. This room iz a mess – we could not get near you for ten minutes before eet calmed down.”

I grimaced. “Heh, curse these rampant hormones a’mine. Jason and Grace?”

“Jason is fascinated by what you ‘ave shown him. The girl, Grace, she is less thrilled but I do not think frightened, non. Merely cautious.” Fleur sat down on the bed next to me. “Reparo. Here are your glasses.”

Her beauty came into startling focus as I slipped the lenses down over my eyes. She was gorgeous in the half-light, stunning. I must’ve looked like a corpse – one that’d been dead for days. Still, she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. It was a nice feeling.

“You cannot use ze Time-Turner again, ‘Arry.”

“No.” I felt around my neck for the chain. It was gone.

“I took eet from you and gave eet to Tonks.”

“You don’t trust me?” I sighed. “Good idea. Time’s up now anyway – we’ve got three days before Atlantis. Still with me?”

Her hand came down on my bare chest. A feather-light weight just above the bandages that crisscrossed my heart and side. “Where else would I be?”

Anywhere else, I almost said. But when I’m selfish, I’m really selfish. “Somewhere less exciting.”

I claimed my feet and stagged over to the window. The view out over the lake and mountains beyond was idyllic, with the sun sinking behind thin stratus clouds and the Muggle town across the way lighting up for the impending darkness. Idyllic and peaceful.

Never mind the magical booby traps I’d laid, or the fog of war and the threat of annihilation on the horizon. There was no way I could save this part of the world and still gain Atlantis. Acceptable casualties were just that – acceptable. The lake would boil, the mountains would crumble, and Harry fucking Potter would forever ride the waves of time and crippled destiny.

Yee-haw!

“I’m taking Arnair up to the cavern. You’re welcome to join us, Fleur.”

“Oui. I will.”

“Let the fun begin then.”

It was a warm summer’s evening – sprinkled twilight and a dash of magic in the air. The path up the mountain to the lost cavern within wasn’t arduous to scale, and it gave me time to answer the questions Jason and Grace threw my way. They were many and varied, all to do with magic, and I answered them truthfully – holding nothing back.

I needed these people on my side, for the next few days at least. After that the war began in earnest, and I’d be hard pressed to keep up with all that was about to happen. Especially if using the Time-Turner caused me to vomit blood and black-out for the best part of a day. Time was turning against me in more ways than one.

Damn it all.

“So, you probably think you’ve stepped into some sort of messed-up fairytale or low-budget movie, guys, but we’re playing for the whole wide world here.” We approached the gaping maw of the cavern. Stars had come to life overhead. “Harry versus Voldemort… for the last time.”

“What kind of a name is ‘Voldemort’?” Grace asked, stumbling around the word.

“Stupid, isn’t it? But there you go…”

Powdered rock and chips of granite crunched underfoot as we crested the final rise. I looked back down over the valley, glimpsing the lake and the Muggle town beyond. Trees blocked a view of the villa we were squatting in, but I didn’t need to see it to know it was there. I was checking on something else.

“Hold up here just a minute,” I said. We were at the edge of the cavern. A sheer drop of about two thousand feet gave way on the left. The doorway cut clean into the rock was dark and forbidding on the right. I drew my wand and rolled up the sleeve on my shirt to the elbow.

“What are you doing, ‘Arry?” Fleur asked.

“Checking the wards,” I replied, and placed the tip of my wand against my wrist. “Hazis.” I drew three thick runes in black charcoal up my forearm. The first one began to glow with a pale blue light before I finished the last. Jason and Grace took a step back.

Fleur was impressed. “That’s Symbolic Casting,” she said. “You can do zat, too?”

I shrugged. I hadn’t really known what I was doing until I was doing it. It was all there in my head, hidden beneath waves of burning lives and a relentless headache. This shit just came to me, usually when I needed it. I wasn’t getting it for free, though, no… I had bled and died time and time again for the knowledge in my head. I’d given worlds to the relentless onslaught of chaos for this knowledge. Damn, damn, damn it all.

“Basic stuff,” I lied. “I’m no runemancer, Fleur.” Yes I was, just not yet. Once my memories sorted themselves out, and they would in Atlantis, I’d have magic beyond reckoning, matched only by the font of power Voldemort had tapped within the Lost City. “This is just to light up the countryside.”

And to my eyes the valley and the lake within did begin to glow. The runes etched on my arm worked magic on my eyes so that I could see and examine the ward platform and spell network I’d constructed around the villa. It exploded to life below me. Great arches of invisible power, cords of green and blue and red, all shrouded in a thick golden twist that dashed through the trees and out over the lake. Almost every inch of ground, within half a mile of the villa, was soaked in trigger-spells and destructive wards.

“Good, good – onward we fare.” The wards were doing fine.

Just as I was about to turn down and into the massive cavern, a snowy-white blur screeched at me from above and alighted on my shoulder. A slow smile spread across my face.

“An owl,” Grace cooed. “Oh my, it’s beautiful.”

“Hedwig.” She nipped my ear. “Ow, okay, I’m sorry. You’ve been playing catch-up for awhile haven’t you?”

“Since my family home,” Fleur said. “She is a very well trained bird, ‘Arry.”

I shook my head and stroked Hedwig’s neck feathers. “She’s loyal, not trained. She’s a good friend…”

I led the way through the veil of darkness and into the cavern beyond. Hedwig hooted softly on my shoulder. It was really good to see her well after the mess in France.

We descended almost immediately into light. The runes gracing the walls, flowing across the impressive mosaic of Atlantis provided a stunning backdrop to the main event down in the heart of the massive hollowed-out mountain. I heard Arnair catch his breath, not for the mosaic, but for the intertwined obsidian gates.

Our own personal gateway to Hell knew how to draw the eye.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d found something,” Grace said, a hand to her breast. “This is incredible.”

“This is just the beginning.” I led everyone down the large stone steps, suspended on nothing but air, and onto the gateway plateau.

“How did you find this place, Harry?”

“Read about it, followed the clues… it was made to be found, Jason. Here.” I unclasped my briefcase and pulled out the two halves of manuscript I’d recovered from opposite sides of the planet. “The Voynich Manuscript – on loan from your university. Heh.”

Arnair blinked and pulled his eyes from the shining walls. “You stole this? There’s uproar back in the States. This is a one of a kind, centuries old—”

“Actually, millenniums old, preserved by magic. And it’s a key – one of three – that’s going to open these dark pillars and show us the way to Atlantis.”

“How?”

I handed the young professor the crinkled pages. Both halves of the script were drawn to one another, but now, in this place, the inert magic within was waking up. “Have a close look at the text. Tell me what you see…”

There was plenty of light by which to read. Arnair, with Grace looking over his shoulder, studied the pages I’d handed him. I stood idly next to Fleur in silence, giving the man a few minutes.

“They… they’re changing,” he said, after a time. “I mean, the words, whatever they say, its gibberish, are moving on the page.”

I nodded. “It’s not gibberish. It’s ancient Atlantean. The cube I showed you in our office can serve as a crude Rosetta stone, and the second key to these gates, and with your clever memory you can write down the opening sequence as the manuscripts swirl through it.”

“Really?” Fleur raised an eyebrow. “Zat iz how you are going to do it? Will eet work, I wonder?”

“It always does…” I muttered, running a hand back through my hair. “You’ll need to get started right away. I think,” I know “ that the words in the manuscript are describing rune ciphers and codes, but they’re always changing and resetting. It’s your job, Arnair, to remember them all.”

Arnair nodded. “Memory is easy – but I can’t read this, Harry.”

“You will.” You have. I’d done this all before, time and time again, and I had the working of it down to a fine art. There were other ways it could be done, darker paths I could take, but this way, this path, had tested true nine times out of ten. “But you don’t have to, either. If you understand them, and I do, then runes speak to you of their design and intent. You just have to show me which ones to use.”

It was different in the details every time – and that’s why I couldn’t just transcribe the last runes I had used to gain access in my last life and have the gates open. Time, the seconds and the space between seconds, altered the manuscript and the magic of the code. It would only work anew each time with a different code. Janus, that old conniving bastard, had more than accounted for the workings of the Infernal Clock in his map to the Lost City.

I had a begrudging respect for the long-dead wizard.

“What’s the third key?” Grace asked.

She pulled me from my thoughts. “Hmm?”

“You said there were three keys to these… gates. One, the manuscript, two, the cube. I was just wondering what key number three is.”

“Oh.” I blinked. “Starlight – the runes have to be drawn in starlight.”

“Why?” Fleur asked. “Why starlight?”

I grinned. “Because the explosion has to be strong enough to tear a hole between worlds.”

*~*~*~*      

A/N: This chapter could’ve gone on a whole lot longer (some 15,000 words), but a lot would’ve been lost in the translation, so I’m splitting it here and finishing the battle to come in the next chapter. A lot of it is already written, so don’t expect that much of a wait.

Okay, so what have we learnt this time? Harry’s being ravaged by time, he’s going to be maimed, and Atlantis is only a chapter away. What’re your thoughts, people, let me know in a review!

-Joe