Supernatural War: Game Plan (1/31)
Title: Supernatural War: Game Plan
Rating: T
Summary: First in the Supernatural War Series. After defeating Voldemort at 17, Harry Potter leaves the Wizarding World, trying to live a normal life under the name of Harry Evans. However, it soon becomes apparent that there are other things out there and people in need of saving. Harry becomes a Hunter, facing a whole new war, on a much larger and deadlier scale. Along the way Harry discovers that something else may have also been connected to Voldemort’s rise to power and that he is more involved in it, than he ever imagined possible.
Setting: Harry Potter - Post-Series. AU of Deathly Hollows (some events/info may have changed or have not happened at all). Supernatural - takes place during Season 2, but may have information pertaining to ALL seasons.
Masterpost
****
Chapter 1: The Second War Ends
Harry Potter collapsed onto his knees, exhaustion and pain emitting from every fibre of his being. He panted, gasping for air as he glanced at the remains of Voldemort in front of him. The recently deceased Dark Lord’s ashes were already being picked up by the slight breeze, which had swept over the battlefield, like dust in the wind. Taking his eyes from his foe, he gazed upon the rest of the battlefield.
It was a bloody mess. Bodies of both allies and enemies alike lay scattered in a bloody heap, their wands clutched tight in their stained hands, or else landed unforgiving on the ground.
The grief at such death was overwhelming. More blood then he had ever seen in his life stained the once lush green lawn outside the entrance doors to Hogwarts. He wondered briefly if it would ever come off. He could see the many injuries that the blood had come from, on both his allies and enemies.
So much destruction…
So much death…
Harry coughed violently, blood escaping his lips as he did so. He struggled to get up, to check for survivors, to check on his friends - the only family he had left. He only managed to rise half way before he fell back to the ground with a soft grunt. Blood dripped near his eyes and he shakily reached a hand to his scar. Surprisingly there was no pain emitting from the famous scar. It felt strange… almost. He had been coping with the near constant pain for several months as he gained more knowledge to face his prophesised destiny.
Footsteps approached cautiously and Harry opened his eyes, which he didn’t know he closed. The fuzzy form of Professor McGonagall came into view and his eyes slowly focused, due to his exhaustion.
“’fessor,” Harry mumbled, his eyes starting to close again of their own accord. He struggled to get them opened again.
“Yes, Harry,” McGonagall answered gently. “Come on, we’ll get you to the Hospital Wing.”
His Transfiguration professor helped him to his feet with surprising strength. Harry looked up at Hogwarts - the one place he could call home. Though that still remained to be seen. Too much had happened.
It was fitting, perhaps, that the Final Battle between Voldemort and him had taken place on the grounds of the castle that they’d both once called home.
Harry hesitated, wanting his enemy’s death to be confirmed. “’fessor… Voldemort… is he?”
McGonagall gave him a small smile that he had hardly seen on her face. “Dead, nothing left but ash, from the looks of things. You did it, Harry.”
“Good,” Harry muttered. “And ’mione, Ron?”
McGonagall’s face fell. She hesitated, looking to the left. Her eyes focused on a group of bodies lying in the distance. Harry followed her gaze with a huge lump in his throat. A feeling of uneasiness grew within him, but had to see what she was looking at. He soon came across the exact same bodies that McGonagall saw.
There were two bodies collapsed in each other’s arms. One was male with familiar red hair and the other was had a bushy brown hair. They were the bodies of his friends. They were dead.
Harry made a low keening sound, overwhelmed by the sudden revelation of his friends deaths. They were his family - they meant everything to him. Everything.
He felt sick. He felt…
Darkness appeared as spots in his vision, before he pitched forward and the darkness spread. He had a floating sensation before he passed into unconsciousness.
*****
Harry’s eyes fluttered open for a moment before they closed. He struggled to consciousness just as he’d struggled to his feet after defeating Voldemort. The slight warmth of the midday sun fell upon the right side of his body. It was oddly pleasant and peaceful.
At least for that moment.
It was warm and fuzzy, Harry decided. He felt strangely content and even, dare he say it, safe. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Suddenly, though, everything that had happened came flooding back to him, sweeping like a gigantic tidal wave of thoughts.
Horcruxes ……The Final Battle……the bodies laden on the bloody ground, dead ……… Voldemort…‘Only one of us will leave this battlefield alive, Voldemort, and it won’t be me!’……
Voldemort! Harry startled awake, oblivious to his own pain and still healing injuries for a few seconds, until they made themselves known.
“Ugh,” he groaned, feeling now the true extent of his injuries. It was better then he’d been straight after the fight - an improvement at least.
“Ah. You’re finally awake Mr. Potter,” an unmistakably familiar voice answered. It sounded like…
“Ma-Madam Pomfrey?”
“Yes, Mr. Potter. Who’d you expect? I’ve been patching you up ever since you came to Hogwarts. Although this time was the worst, I must say. It was touch and go there for awhile, before you were stabilised.”
“Yeah,” Harry mumbled, although it sounded like a groan. “Yeah…”
His eyes settled on Madam Pomfrey, determined to read her reaction to his next question.
“Wha’ happened? I-I was facing Voldemort,” Harry whispered, the events of the Final Battle continuing to flash before his eyes. “I finally did it, didn’t I? Killed him? He’s dead, gone?!”
“Yes, it would seem so. There was nothing left of him but ash.”
Harry managed a half smile, a smile he hadn’t given in a long time. Then, he remembered what he had discovered shortly after Voldemort death. The smile was replaced by a deep frown. “Ron? H-Hermione? I saw them, after the battle. They were- are they?” Harry was unable to finish the sentence for fear that it would make it seem true.
Madam Pomfrey sighed hesitantly. “Harry,” she replied softly. “They have passed away.”
Harry closed his eyes as he took in what he knew was true, however much he didn’t want it to be. His family was gone. He choked a sob. “Do-Do you know how?”
“Mr. Weasley shielded Miss Granger from the initial attack, but she too eventually succumbed to a dark curse,” she answered. Harry squeezed his eyes firmly shut at her answer. He flinched as he felt hands reach near him.
“Drink this,” Madam Pomfrey ordered gently. She gently lowered a potion goblet to Harry’s lips so he could take a sip. Grimacing a little at the taste, Harry gave into the potion’s effects and his world went dark, his mind and body finally getting a long awaited rest.
*****
During the next few days, Harry was in and out of unconsciousness, his body getting much needed rest and recovery, with the help of several potions.
The next time Harry woke for more than a few moments it was dark. He was drawn to movement in front of him. It was Madam Pomfrey. Harry hadn’t needed his glasses since a few months into the search for the Horcruxes, when Hermione insisted he get them fixed, with an advanced spell, as his glasses were a liability. Harry had grudgingly done so, but appreciated that Hermione was indeed right; and he was thankful for it in the end.
“Here take this, Mr. Potter. This is your last one, and then you can recover as you normally would,” Madam Pomfrey ordered.
“So, after this, I can escape this place?” Harry was anxious to leave. This place had so many memories, both good and bad, and he just wanted to not deal with them. At least for the time being and while they were still so fresh - and painful.
“No, I’m afraid not Mr. Potter. You still need your rest. It was quite a feat you pulled.”
Chapter 1b >>