Shadowflame

Remus was yelling something—probably about not doing anything rash or suicidal. But honestly, when you see your godfather—your only family—get sucked into an ancient, creepy archway, you're not exactly in the mood for a chat. So I did what any sensible wizard would do: I shook him off and bolted for the Veil.

"Harry, no!" Remus' voice was desperate, but I was beyond reason. I had to get to Sirius. I had to save him.

Before I knew it, I was diving headfirst into the Veil, half-expecting to find myself in some otherworldly nightmare. Instead, I got this weird, misty realm that felt like I'd stumbled into someone's really bad dream.

And then, like the universe hadn't done enough to me already, I wasn't alone. A twisted, shadowy version of myself was standing there, grinning like he knew all my worst secrets. Which, it turns out, he did.

"Well, well," the shadow me said, his voice oily and venomous. "Finally figured it out, did you, Potter?"

"Figured out what?" I snapped, because seriously, this guy was pissing me off already.

"That you've been a pawn all along," he sneered. "Dumbledore's little lamb, led to the slaughter. You never wondered why he kept you so close, yet so uninformed? Why he left you with those Muggles who hated you?"

I felt a pit open in my stomach. "Shut up," I muttered, but my voice lacked conviction.

"Oh, but it's the truth," the shadow continued, his voice dripping with malice. "He knew all about me—about the piece of my soul lodged in your precious little scar. He knew you'd have to die to defeat me, and he kept it from you. He raised you for one purpose, Potter: to be a sacrifice."

I wanted to shout him down, to tell him he was lying, but there was something sickeningly logical about what he was saying. It was all clicking into place, and that scared me more than anything.

"And the Dursleys," he went on, because of course he wasn't done. "That wasn't just negligence, Potter. That was strategy. Dumbledore wanted you broken, desperate, and easy to control. Every bruise, every insult—they were all part of the plan."

Scenes flashed in front of me like a horror film: Uncle Vernon's fists, Aunt Petunia's shrill voice, the cupboard under the stairs. Each memory dug deeper, each one reinforcing his twisted narrative. 

"Stop it!" I shouted, clenching my fists. "Just… stop!"

"Why should I? I'm just telling you the truth," he said, smirking. "Face it, Harry. Dumbledore never cared about you. You were just a tool—a means to an end."

For a second, I felt myself slipping, the doubt and anger boiling over. I could feel him, this piece of Voldemort, trying to take control, using my emotions against me. His voice grew louder, more insistent, whispering dark promises, trying to twist my thoughts.

"Give in, Harry," he coaxed. "Let me take over. It's the only way to end the pain."

But then, something snapped inside me. Maybe it was the thought of my friends, of the people who actually cared about me. Or maybe it was just sheer stubbornness. But I wasn't about to let Voldemort win, not like this.

"Yeah, you're right," I said suddenly, cutting him off. "Dumbledore is a manipulative old git."

The shadow version of me blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"But you know what? So are you. And you're worse," I continued, feeling a surge of strength return. "You're a murderer, a psychopath, and I'm not letting you take me down with you."

With that, I pushed back with everything I had, shoving him out of my mind, out of my scar, out of my life. I focused on the faces of everyone I loved—Sirius, Ron, Hermione, even Remus—and used that to fuel my resistance.

"Get. Out!" I roared, and the shadow let out a final scream before dissipating into nothing.

The misty world around me shattered, and suddenly I was falling, fast. I braced myself, expecting to hit cold stone, but instead, I landed face-first in sand. Hot, dry, and utterly endless sand.

I groaned, trying to push myself up. "Of course… it's a desert," I muttered, barely able to move. "Why wouldn't it be?"

I managed to roll onto my back, staring up at the impossibly bright sky. My body felt like it had been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs, and my magic—well, it was pretty much gone.

"Great," I said to no one in particular. "Out of the frying pan, into the… Sahara? Really?"

Just as the irony of it all hit me, the world tilted, my vision blurred, and the last thing I saw before blacking out was that vast, empty desert stretching out endlessly around me.

"Brilliant," I muttered to myself. "Absolutely brilliant." Then everything went dark.

—

Waking up in a chamber filled with gooey, transparent liquid wasn't exactly how I pictured my next adventure starting. I couldn't move—heck, I could barely think straight—but I could hear voices. Muffled, but close enough for me to catch bits and pieces.

"...found him in the Nevada Desert..."

Wait, what? Nevada? I was in London—last time I checked, the Ministry of Magic didn't have any Portkeys leading directly to Vegas. How in Merlin's name did I end up in the Nevada Desert?

"...barely alive... unique DNA structure... perfect for Project Chimera..."

Chimera? That didn't sound good. I tried to focus on the voices, but the thick goo surrounding me made it feel like I was underwater. My brain was working at half speed, and I couldn't even see where I was. This was bad, like, being-locked-in-the-broom-cupboard-for-three-days bad.

"...spliced Wonder Woman's DNA... still no idea who this person is... but the results are... unexpected..."

Wonder Woman? That sounded like something out of one of Dudley's comic books. And what did they mean by "spliced DNA"? I was pretty sure that wasn't something Madam Pomfrey would approve of. 

"...multiple creature DNA... anomaly... latent within him..."

Creature DNA? My sluggish thoughts started connecting the dots. It had to be because of everything that's happened to me over the years. Let's see, there was that time I got bitten by a Basilisk, which was fun. Then Fawkes decided to cry into the wound to save my life—definitely a highlight of my second year. Oh, and let's not forget last year, when a Hungarian Horntail tried to turn me into dragon sushi. 

I guess that explains the "anomaly" they're talking about. I've basically been a magical creature pincushion for years, so of course my DNA isn't normal.

"...Project Chimera... has potential... we need to monitor the subject closely..."

Okay, time to panic. I was their subject—not a student, not a wizard, just some sort of lab experiment. And this whole "Project Chimera" sounded like it was straight out of a mad scientist's playbook. If I didn't get out of here soon, I was going to end up as some Frankenstein's monster with a weird mix of superpowers and magical creatures.

I had to get out. Now.

Except... I couldn't move. I couldn't even twitch a finger. I was trapped in this goo, surrounded by people who thought playing mix-and-match with my DNA was a good idea. My thoughts were fuzzy, my magic felt distant, and the more I tried to fight it, the more the goo seemed to tighten around me.

I wasn't giving up, though. I'd been through too much to let a little thing like being turned into a human science experiment stop me. If I could just figure out what was going on, maybe I could find a way to break out of this nightmare.

"...need to proceed with caution... the subject's potential is... unpredictable..."

You're telling me, I thought grimly. Unpredictable didn't even begin to cover it. But if they thought I was just going to lie here and let them poke and prod at me like some kind of magical guinea pig, they had another thing coming.

Now, if only I could remember how to get my body to listen to me again…

—

I was floating in the goo again, which wasn't exactly my idea of a fun time. The voices around me had faded into background noise, but then a new commotion started up. There were raised voices, hurried footsteps, and the unmistakable sound of something getting smashed.

"...we're raising the lab..."

"Raising it? As in, lifting it up? What does that even—" 

The conversation was interrupted by a sudden burst of activity. The lab was in chaos, and the voices were becoming more frantic. I caught snippets of conversation that made me wonder if things were about to get even weirder.

"...Justice League..."

Justice League? Didn't sound like something that would be on the Hogwarts curriculum. I was starting to get the feeling I was about to meet some very powerful people.

A new voice, fast and sharp, cut through the confusion. "The subject—he's some sort of metahuman. Luthorcorp found him barely alive in the desert and started experimenting. Added your DNA to his—"

Before the voice could finish, another figure burst into the room. This one had a presence that practically screamed strength. I could just make out the silhouette of a woman, and from the snippets of conversation, she had to be the Wonder Woman they'd mentioned.

The Flash—he was the fast guy, if I was piecing this together correctly—was rattling off details at lightning speed. "—Project Chimera, they spliced your DNA with his. He's essentially your... son. Or as close as it gets. But we don't know what else might've been added to him."

I tried to piece this together. Wonder Woman was my... what now? The concept was so far out there it was almost absurd. But before I could dwell on it, the scene turned into a full-blown action movie. I felt a sudden jolt as the glass of my tube cracked, and the next thing I knew, Wonder Woman was punching a hole right through it. 

The gooey liquid poured out, and I tumbled out of the shattered tube, landing on the cold floor. The fall was dizzying, and my vision swam. I was barely conscious as strong arms lifted me. Wonder Woman's face was the last thing I saw before everything went black again.

"Easy, young one," her voice was soothing, and despite my condition, it brought a strange sense of comfort. "You're safe now."

As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I could just make out the figures around me—Wonder Woman's calming presence, and the blur of someone who moved so fast he was just a streak of color. I was still trying to wrap my head around everything: being in a desert, being experimented on, and now being told I was somehow connected to this superhero named Wonder Woman. 

In my half-sleeping state, I had no idea what was coming next, but it felt like my life was about to get a whole lot more complicated—and a whole lot more interesting.

---

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