Author's Note: Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I've been doing a lot of reading and I've redone the last part of the outline for this story. I'm going to end it a lot quicker than I planned because I'm taking it in a different direction. There will be a sequel and it will explain some of the questions that I will be leaving. Maybe 2 or 3 more chapters until the end. 

Chapter Eight

The King in Yellow

Plans were at the final stages of being carried out for the evacuation of the Palace of all nonessential personnel. By three o'clock, the hustle and bustle of everyday life ground to a halt. Armed security guards were stationed at every juncture throughout the Palace. From what Padma told Harry, the Byakhee were supposed to be made of mortal flesh and would die from a bullet just as well as a killing curse. Bullets might be, perhaps, messier, but the overall outcome would be the same.

Harry walked thorough the halls glancing at the priceless paintings that had been recessed into the wall and protected by bullet-resistant glass. Some of the more irreplaceable treasures were hastily stored away. But only those in the State Ballroom were cleared entirely for that was where they would make their stand, if needed.   

He contemplated bringing in more Aurors. If the nightmare or vision was anything to go by Harry knew that they would be in for a strong fight. But considering Padma's information he was confident that the Palace guards would even out the odds well enough.

Taking out the bottomless caldron, Harry stretched it arms-length apart and conjured enough water to fill it three-quarters the way full.

"Better safe than sorry," he said to himself before looking up at the Grand Staircase on the North wall.

Padma stood at the top step looking down at him.

"Well, she's still pissed," he whispered.

Her body was ridged and the frown that was on her face, before they left his room, had not been replaced as of yet. On a whim, he stuck his tongue out at her. Her eyes narrowed in response. That's when she descended the staircase and he was rewarded with a view of her new outfit.

"Tinkerbelle's tampon," he cursed to himself quietly.

Padma gave up her stately office-wear for something a bit more functional. He watched her slink down the Grand Staircase in a skintight black jumpsuit of some kind. Heavy boots were laced up to her knees with thick heels pumping up her height by at least two additional inches, making her legs sleek out, smoothing the muscles he remembered seeing in the room where he was anointed.  Her cloak was pushed behind her shoulders making it appear as if it were a cape instead of its more functional daily use.

"You know, trying to do battle with a raging hard-on isn't as easy as it looks," Harry said.

She returned a very satisfied smirk.

His eyes dropped to her waist and the numerous pockets that ran behind and out of sight. "Did I tell you how much I loved Batgirl when I was a kid?"

Padma's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What's a Bat-Girl?"

Harry's smile widened and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Keep that outfit around after we end this thing and I'll show you."

She rolled her eyes and looked at the large cauldron in the middle of the room. "What's that for?"

He shrugged. "Just a little back up in case things get out of hand." Before she could inquire further Harry gazed up at the ceiling. "It's about time to lay the repelling charms; you ready?"

With a nod they headed toward the lift. Harry punched the call button and then leaned on the wall to get a few more looks at Padma's outfit.

"You know," she said with mild annoyance. "If you keep staring I'm going to have to charge you."

He held up his hands in a gesture of harmlessness. "Hey, I'm not the one who went all Emma Peel." He tilted his head a little and gazed at her hips. "I think you might need a bigger belt buckle though."

The lift arrived and the doors opened depositing the head of security in front of them. "Ah, Sir Harry, I'm glad I ran into you." He held up a medium sized box and opened the top. "I have some communicators for you and your people."

Harry eyed the headset as the Security Chief handed one over. "Once the magic starts flying, these will be useless."

The Chief nodded. "This is an older model we've adapted with a shielded polymer coating that will hopefully extend the life. They've been tested in areas of high magical concentration and last a bit longer. The signal strength isn't as strong as we'd like, but it's better than nothing at all."

Harry slipped the receiver arm around his ear and adjusted the fit while he moved the transmitting stem along the curve of his jaw. The Chief held out one to Padma and used an additional one as an example. "There are four toggles here and here. The first is a mute, the second is an active, third is a separate channel dedicated to your team, and the fourth for everyone on a separate frequency. Once active they will stay on until returned for charging. A full charge should last about forty-eight hours."

"Thank you," Padma said as she fitted her own headset to her ear. "This should come in handy."

They boarded the lift. Harry winked and gave her a suggestive nod. "So do I look all secret agent man?" At her lack of response he tried a different tact. "If you would have been straight with me from the start I wouldn't have been so pissed."

Padma's lips pursed in mild annoyance. "We had our suspicions about what was going on, Harry, but that's all they were, suspicions." Crossing her arms she turned and looked him in the eye. "My family's secret has been held for almost two thousand years, and without any proof whatsoever I'm supposed to just lay it all out there for you?"  

Harry sighed slightly. "I think I've proven more than a few times that I can keep a secret, Padma."

An amused smirk came over her face. "Then how do I know that you are the Master of Death?"

Harry's eyes almost bugged and his jaw went slack. "I … how…"

"It's easy if you put the pieces together," she said with confidence in her voice as she turned back to face the doors of the lift. "Everyone knows that you possess the Elder Wand from your defeat of Voldemort. And it's almost common knowledge that you posses an Invisibility Cloak that was passed down from your father." She looked over her shoulder and smiled. "It took very little research to find out that the very same cloak had been passed down two generations before that."

Instead of denying the fact, Harry crossed his arms and tried to empty his face of emotion.

"Magical cloaks, even well made, do not last that long, Harry. They get damaged, worn, the enchantment wears off."

A chime announced their arrival to the upper most floor and the doors opened.

"I admit that the stone was the most difficult to figure out, and I still wasn't sure until you confirmed it just a minute ago with that wonderful secret-keeping face. But you have it, I'm sure."

They made their way down the hall and approached a duo of guards attending the roof access. After confirming their identification they were ushered through and shown the final door where Padma stopped.

"My family is very well connected, Harry. I can tell you a few things, generalities mostly. But like I said before…"

Harry nodded in annoyance. "I need to have the tramp-stamp from hell to know more."

Padma shook her head in disappointment. "We are a dedicated people, Harry. There is nothing more important than securing the Planar Gates and insuring that no Old One or Elder God return to play havoc on the Earth again … nothing." She sighed. "My life, my father's life, even yours is not worth one of their kind's return."

Harry grabbed her arm as she turned to walk out into the bright sunny day. "I disagree."

A smile softened her features and her eyes lost their competitiveness. "I know, Harry. You care too much. It's always been your biggest problem."

o_O

With the Muggle Repelling Charms and Notice-me-not Charms applied to Buckingham Palace they returned to Manspark's office to find him and another three elderly gentlemen in attendance.

"I thought all civilians had been escorted out?" was Harry's greeting as he strode into the office.

Manspark rose from his seat followed by each of the gentlemen in turn. "Sir Harry, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the remaining officers of the Order: the Registrar and Secretary, Sir William Remington, the King of Arms, Sir Alistair St. Brandenburg, and lastly the Dean, Sir Warrington Yates." Each of the gentlemen nodded in turn. "I thought it better if we were all gathered together, for better or worse."

Harry understood, but still felt it unwise to allow the monsters easy access to the remainder of their prey. He eyed each of them in turn. Noticing the pistols that were hanging from each of their belts he cocked an eyebrow.

Manspark cut him off before Harry could comment. "Each of us is retired military, Sir Harry. We know how to handle our weapons."

Harry shook his head. "I was thinking of something a little bigger, maybe of the shotgun variety." He looked at his watch. "We've got a couple of hours until sunset. Make sure they're loaded up and secure. I don't want them in the middle of things if we are breached."

Apparently Manspark had briefed them as to Harry's abrasive attitude for they looked equally constipated but held their opinions to themselves. Harry looked suitably impressed and somewhat amused but carried on with the day's business.

"The Palace has been charmed to keep wandering eyes away so nobody should notice anything is wrong."

The man he remembered named Yates, the Dean, clasped his hands together behind his back. "Do you really think that the Palace will be breached? Are there so many of them that we will be in significant danger?"

Harry glanced at him and then at Manspark who took his cue.

"I've learned in the last two days that if Sir Harry is this cautious then the situation is dire, Warrington."  

"See you in the Ballroom in thirty, Sir Rupert. I'll walk all of you through the situation." Harry turned around and headed out.

O_o

On the way back down the Ballroom Harry paused for a moment at one of the windows and gazed out to the street in front the palace. He became increasingly unsettled as his eyes tracked from the right of the fenced-in grounds to the left. Once he overtook the Victoria Memorial at the center, outside the gates, he saw a figure facing the Palace.  

His brows furrowed as he knew that Muggles shouldn't be able to stare in his direction, instead they should remember a forgotten appointment or be distracted by something other than what they were trying to stare at.  The first thought that came into his head after seeing the figure standing there was the image of bloated maggots; maggots lying in a pile of rotted meat festering in the noonday sun. The image triggered a sensory memory and the smell of the rotted meat made his stomach churn.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment to quell the sudden nausea, and when he reopened them he sharpened his vision and concentration on the figure across the street.  The clothes the figure wore spoke of a street dweller, a vagrant, a bum. They looked old and unwashed, hanging from the figure's body.

Dread crept over his consciousness and it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"Harry," said Padma mere inches from his ear.

"Gah!" he yelped and jumped back.

Padma's were shining with glee and a quick burst of laughter escaped her lips. "Bit jumpy?"

Harry gave her a dirty look and turned back to the window and the mysterious stranger. To his annoyance the figure still stood sentinel.

"Recognize him?"

Padma stepped up beside him and tried to find who Harry was speaking of.

"To the left of the memorial on the other side…"

"Oh … eww." She looked away and gagged in reflex.

"Friend of yours?"

It looked like all of her attention was focused on not losing her lunch in front of Harry. He glanced back to the figure and could almost swear that he or it was looking directly at him.

"I'm going to check this out." Harry said as he saw Padma's normally dark skin had paled noticeably.  

He quickly checked around and Apparated just outside the gates behind the Victoria Memorial to cover his sudden appearance. When he rounded the Memorial he caught sight of the figure which he could now tell was either male or Deloras Umbridge's better looking sister had made an appearance.

Harry checked for traffic and crossed the road noticing that the man was watching him at the same time. The nausea had returned along with a healthy amount uneasiness and it only increased the closer he moved toward the stranger.

Keeping at least five feet away, mainly because of the smell of rotted meat that the man seemed to radiate, Harry made his move.

"Hey there good lookin'," he cracked.

The man said nothing in return, and if Harry didn't know any better he'd swear that the guy was ignoring him while staring him straight in the face. His face was barren of any expression, his eyes clouded over and his skin bloated in a dirty grey pallor. The man's tattered coat hung down almost touching the ground and looked torn in several places.

"How 'bout I give you a few pounds and you piss off and buy a new coat, yeah?"

Without any warning, nor fanfare, a piece of the man's dirty yellow coat separated from the whole, tearing up the side and lashed out at Harry. It lengthened and whipped out, striking him across the face, cutting him almost thoroughly through the left cheek from ear to mouth. Harry was knocked backward and staggered. His hand snapped up to the injury feeling blood coursing between his fingers and down his neck while his right hand lanced out with his wand.

"Percucio!" He tried to yell but was hampered by the injury. "Diffindo!"

A clean silver sickle-sized hole was punctured through the man's heart and a large gash to match Harry's injury ripped through the left side of his throat. By the time Harry got his balance he stopped in his tracks.

"Oh hell," he gasped with dread for no blood rose from either wound.

The man stood as before; the only movement was from his coat which was splitting in several other places as before. Harry took two quick steps back to put more distance between them.

"Sectumsempra!" He desperately yelled. "Lacerate!"

A three foot gash tore through the man from shoulder to hip opening him up and loosed ropes of intestine down his front. Horror welled up to Harry's face at what he was witnessing; maggot filled flesh erupted outward where the Slicing Curse hit.

Several prehensile tendrils lashed out and the short distance Harry had put between them didn't seem to be a factor. One punctured him just under his left collarbone while another sliced through his jacket cutting him liberally across the chest, while still another jabbed straight through his right hip.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!"

He was lifted up into the air with absurd ease and held there as the man walked forward. Two more tentacles drove through the right side of his chest and his left leg. Unbelievable pain tore at Harry as he felt the tentacles moving inside him as they extended themselves even further through his body and out the back. The extra length trailed down and wrapped around his legs.

"Harry Potter," rasped the man with a low gurgling voice. "Hastur comes for you."

The tentacles inverted him in the air when Harry gathered enough energy and suppressed enough of the pain to reply. "Fuck you!"

"SEPERATUS!" Padma's voice yelled.

The man's head came cleanly from his shoulders and tumbled to the ground making a sickening hollow sound before it split open littering the ground with a mound of engorged maggots.

The tentacles dropped Harry and he fell, but still kept enough sense about him to tilt his head away and somewhat curl up before he hit the concrete below.

Padma send out a wave of flame encircling the man before he collapsed. Pure hatred showed on her face as the flame intensified and engulfed the body. Two additional cracks of Apparition sounded near Harry, but he was almost too far gone to care.

Su Li appeared in his field of vision looking rather panicked. "Harry!"

His throat constricted and his eyes widened as he realized he wasn't breathing quite right. That was when he convulsed and coughed up a mouthful of blood straight in Su's face.

Hannah's voice sounded behind him. "It punctured his lung! Hurry …"

Blackness took him.

o_O

"Mister Potter?"

Harry's eyes cracked open to see a healer standing beside the bed where he was currently laying.

"Ah good, Mister Potter I need you to sit up. I have a nice potion for you," she said with a little more energy than Harry was willing to take at the moment.

"Bugger off," he mumbled as he turned to the side.

A bright smile appeared on her face. "I'll make a deal with you. If you drink the potion I'll promptly bugger off, how about that?"

"Mmmph," he replied into his pillow.

"Okay, how about I discharge you today if you take the potion, and if you don't I'll keep you in here another week as I deliver it rectally via a nice large enema?"

He turned his head and glared at the healer. "What is it with women and my ass?"

Turning back he sat up with rather large wince in pain. Lancing pain shot up from his shoulder and hip.

"Still hurt?" she asked with concern.

A sharp nod was all that was returned.

She gave him a sympathetic shrug and held out the bubbling potion. "Drink it all up."

He reluctantly grabbed the potion and took a long pull from the glass. With a look of utter disgust he slammed the glass on the small table hanging over the bed and swallowed. "Ugh, should of have taken the enema; there's no way it could've tasted worse."

She held out her wand and encircled his chest area. "I'll let the Potion's Resident know your opinion. Now lay still while I do my examination."

He raised an eyebrow in wariness. "I though you said you were going to bugger off if I drank that colostomy bag of a potion."

She gave him a quick smile. "I lied." With a pronounced frown she pulled the sheet down and gestured to Harry. "Take off your gown, please."

"It's not a gown," Harry started as he leaned forward and untied the single string that held together what he was wearing. "Gowns are for formal occasions. This is more of a … well, it's like a negligee, a really cheap negligee that you have for unwanted guests." He sighed. "And now that we've established your penchant for wanting to see men in women's knickers, when are we getting to the fun stuff?"

Judging from her total lack of reaction to his charming wit Harry concluded that the healer was more than used to unruly patients.  

"Your wounds are healed but there will be a bit of scarring," she informed him as she traced each area with her wand. "You can try applying dittany morning and night for the next week, but I don't know if it will do any good."

She looked up at his left cheek and turned his head with a single finger so as to get a better look. Her frown reappeared, after which she conjured a hand mirror and passed it of to Harry.

"If you experience any lingering pain I want you to get yourself back here as soon as possible."

Harry held up the mirror and looked at the half-inch wide mark that ran from his left ear to just below his lips. Running his finger along the smooth scar he grimaced. "Why is it green?"

"It's more of an olive color, I think," the healer replied.

He gave her an impatient look in return, and she explained. "When you were brought in we concentrated on the life threatening wounds first. We had quiet the time extracting an unfamiliar toxin that was preventing us from closing the wound properly."

Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Toxin?"

The healer nodded. "We were informed the creature that attacked you did so with tentacle-like limbs, is that correct?"

Harry nodded.

"Well it's reasonable to assume that the creature also secretes some sort of venom or perhaps the toxin was indicative of its home environment."

His necked cracked as he stretched his head to the side relieving the tension. It was then that he heard a small knock at the door. Padma stuck her head through and gave him a tight smile. With a wave of his hand she entered and stepped to the side and allowed the healer to complete her business.

"What do you think, Padma," Harry said as he presented his newest scar. "Roguishly handsome or diseased Joker wannabe?"

She shrugged. "I think it looks like maybe you …"

The healer interrupted. "I'll get you the dittany to apply to your scar for the next week, three times a day. Hopefully it will reduce the width if not remove it altogether; we'll have to wait and see."

"In the meantime It'll look like someone ran a green Sharpe across my face."

The healer smiled. "I can always open up your cheek again. Think of the conversation piece that would be."

Harry brushed her off. "Nah, then I'll have two mouths and one of them will have green lipstick. Not really the kind of thing a virile man-type heterosexual like myself needs to project, yeah?"

The healer arched a thin eyebrow at him, turned and exited the room. Padma leaned forward and set her elbows on her knees. "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Like I got my ass handed to me by a really creepy razorblade tentacled coat. Which is to say …oww."

"The protections worked last night," she offered. "The Palace was never attacked. I suppose the King's Avatar was enough of a message."

Harry shook his head, mildly confused. "King? Oh, King in Yellow, right." He pursed his lips momentarily. "It said Hastur is coming for me."

Padma's face contorted in sadness and then she closed her eyes to cool her emotions.

"Care to enlighten me?"

Her eyes opened again but she failed to meet Harry's. Instead she looked over at the window. "The Unspeakable One has set his eye on you." After a brief pause she continued. "That is it's real name. I can only assume that one of the Old Ones have found a breach in the Planer Gate, and if that is true then we don't have long before others notice."

Harry tossed his bed sheet aside and sat up. He wavered for a moment to let a small bout of dizziness to pass and then took to his feet. Padma looked at him for a moment, rose as well and crossed to the door. After minute outside, in the hallway, she returned with a large shopping bag.

"You wouldn't want your old clothes. They were," she thought for a moment. "They were beyond yuck."

Harry smirked for a moment and then pulled off his hospital negligee. Padma glanced for a few seconds at his nude body and then reached into the bag to pass him a small package. He ripped the top off and donned a pair of athletic briefs.

"I'm normally a boxers kind of guy."

Padma busied herself pulling out the rest of the clothing. "I though perhaps that with what you have to look forward to that you might appreciate the support."

She passed him a pair of heavy jeans next. "Well, thanks for keeping the boys in mind."

A small smile, at his joke, graced her face. "Anytime."

He slipped the jeans on and then grabbed the t-shirt next and slipped it on and grimaced a bit at the tight fit.

"It's a protective undergarment. While it won't stop a sword, but it should deflect any small arms slashing. It needs to be form fitting, Harry. Get over it."

He let his face relax. "I could have used this yesterday."

Padma arched her head somewhat. "Well if you weren't being a total ass yesterday then I might have suggested it."

He returned her barb with a Gallic shrug and took the proffered shirt. "Anything special about this?"

She shook her head. "Unless you consider high thread count out of the ordinary, and judging from the way you normally dress I would suppose you do."

Harry held up is hand in defense. "No, stop … your razor wit is killing me."

A frown overtook her face at the inference. Harry backed off and waited until he tucked his shirt in and sat down on the bed to slip on the socks she had just laid down. She turned and stepped over to the closet to retrieve the only article of clothing that made it through his battle with the King of Yellow's avatar, his boots. When he tightened the last buckle the door opened a crack.

"Everyone decent?"

Hannah entered and gave a short wave. "Feeling alright, Harry?"

With a nod Harry took to his feet. "We need to make a stop at my flat. There's a few things I have to get, and then we're off to Ireland."