Jonquils And Lightning

A Shining World

Harry was aware of the distant battle that sounded behind him, but he couldn't stop the transfer of magic now. The shining figure that knelt in front of him, which would unite with the portal to Tom's world, was taking more and more of it.

And the more flowed away, the lighter Harry felt. The freer.

There are some things where I can't help being different from other people, but if I get to choose? Then yeah, I choose to be normal.

He could almost see features wavering into existence on the being's face now. A nose and mouth like Harry's, the eyes a brilliant blue like Ron's. It was similar to the figure that had formed when Harry gave up part of his magic to stabilize the portal back to his first world, but then the mouth and nose had been Hermione's, and the eyes had been Harry's own.

The figure reached out with a golden hand, rounded at the tips as if it was wearing mittens, and Harry smiled and flicked his fingers. More magic, this time shaped as if it was a row of shark teeth, sped across the air between them.

Take it. I never wanted it. I would have given it all for a life with my parents, a life without Voldemort.

Let him have just enough to still cast some spells and keep up with Tom, and he would—

Something crashed into him, knocking him away from the still-forming figure. Harry got his hands beneath him in seconds and stopped the roll. He came up snarling, honestly frightened by the sounds that were ripping from his throat. The figure in front of him wavered and vanished, and the magic twirled up, filling the sky like the Northern Lights. Some of it continued to settle around the portal, though.

Harry had no idea what would happen if the transfer of magic was interrupted. The portal to Tom's world might snap shut. It might gap open wider and spill dangerous things out of a rip into the dimensions between the worlds. It might suck Tom back into it.

Of all of those, Harry knew which outcome he would hate most.

He reached his feet and saw, in a quick glance, that Tom and Dumbledore were dueling. The air between them was filled with crackling fire and light and snakes made out of both. Tom seemed to be holding his own for the moment, which was the only reason Harry felt free to turn to face the hooded figure in front of him.

It chuckled. "I believe that your young man thinks I'm your cousin, based on the way he was glaring at me." Hands rose and drew the hood back, and eyes filled with hate glared at Harry.

Harry clenched his hands. "I could have told him that Jonquil would never do anything like this to me. But some of my other cousins might have, Calliope."

His cousin shook her head, her eyes fastened on him. "You have no idea how much I hate you," she said softly. "And then Albus came and told me more about you. How you're going to go to his world with this Gaunt person and start another war. Or maybe you're trying to stop Albus." She shrugged. "It doesn't matter that much to me. What matters to me is that you stand here and my son does not."

"I'm not responsible for his death," Harry snarled. He was speaking more harshly than he meant to, but all his nerves were jangling. She shouldn't have interrupted the transfer of magic to the portal. The aura that clung to it right now shimmered and spat at him. He wasn't sure when it would break.

"But you come here and you bear his name, and you're accepted by the family in a way that I've never been. Not since he died."

Harry didn't have time to debate the nuances of her grief with her. Tom was fighting Dumbledore. He might be dying, and Harry was standing here and chatting with his hateful cousin. He launched a blow at her, a flick of his magic, that took her off her feet and knocked her out, and then turned and ran towards the duel.